Sentry of the Arcane: Engulfed

Chapter Thirty-Six: Fitz

The trial's tomorrow.

After all of the mishaps and delays, Jacob Grahams' case will be reviewed by twelve annonymous people making up a jury. A professional judge will oversee the entire thing. Jacob Grahams, for the first time with a while, will be seen by others in society.

Even worse, we'll be testifying against him. And everyone will know and judge all of us, not just him at that point. People make too make judgements, and in a court scenario, everything will only be more exaggerated, traumatic, and horrifying.

I lay back onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. What do people expect of me? Of all of us? We're merely children compared to everyone else in that room. Either they sympathise more or dispel everything that we try to tell them. Even though the latter seems better, it doesn't seem any better. Do I really want a bunch of adults treating me even younger than I already am? Despite feeling like I've aged at least a decade from the whole ideal, I hate the fact that at that age where you don't fit in a specific area. On the brink of everything but not necessarily falling in any specific category. Honestly, it makes life that much harder.

When I wake up, it's still dark outside, so I mentally curse myself for never getting a good night's rest. I flop down onto my bed again, praying that I drift off again to no avail. Groaning in annoyance, I sit myself up, not ready to turn any light on but also knowing that I can't do anything in the dark. I throw off my covers and turn the light on, immediately shutting my eyes in response. As I slowly adapt to the sudden change in brightness, I head into the bathroom to get ready for the day when, frankly, the day hasn't begun yet.

What has this world come to?

...

Downstairs, I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting both the male Sovereign and Altruistic already seated, chatting among themselves. When I walk over with a confused expression, the two are still engrossed in their conversation.

"It'll be awful if they let Jacob go," Benen says, shaking his head, "but your point still rings true."

The male Sovereign leans back in his chair, "Exactly! No one's going to believe us, so hate to admit it, but we don't have much of a-"

"Not so fast," I interject, seating myself down and startling them. "We technically have some things on him- we can pin the two murders and the warehouse incident on them." I don't miss how the two flinch at the latter, but I also don't blame them.

"But we don't know if the murders really happened," Benen starts after a moment of silence. "We don't have anything really against-"

"He used the rentia crystals to give Sophie the memories," I remind him, "I've also used them to share memories with her, so I know that they actually work."

"But what about-" The male Sovereign and I now go back and forth, asking each other our worries and defending different parts. Every question we ask one another gives us more anxiety than the last, and every answer we get gives us less satisfaction than the last. I can feel my thoughts beginning to race more and more, much to fast for me to grasp at them. This mindless trance keeps me quiet for a few minutes until Donovan speaks up:

"Guys, you forgot one thing. We can't tell them anything about the powers we have."

My eyes grow wider when I replay our conversation and realise that neither Benen nor I brought that one small yet extremely significant detail up. Those few words completely change what we can and cannot pin rightfully onto Jacob. "So... what can we even say?" I ask quietly, looking down at my hands.

"Very little," Donovan admits reluctantly. "I don't think that we have a case. Guys, I think that he may actually... you know?" All of us make eye contact with one another, falling into another solemn silence. Every so often, one would open their mouth to say something that could combat the conclusion we've come to, but it wouldn't work. A rebuttal or explanation against it would always arise, and we'd drop it.