Heartsease had been said to have taken one life, and that was the life of the man he called brother, Adagio—one of the Five Founders. It had struck a chord with him that he had hurt someone he loved, despite that person being the cause of much suffering. It stayed with him, and he wanted nothing more than never to have to resort to such permanent means again. With peace coming from the fall of the Founders, and the people establishing their heroes as tribal leaders, Heartsease graciously took the role of Patriarch. His first step under the title was to lead his descendants to become more Christ-like—his way of negating the evils that had encompassed the world over the years. Helping others, giving to the less fortunate, and advocating for humanity. The leaders after Heartsease kept to their morals, and the other tribes and clans saw the children of Heartsease as meek servants. The Lamb's Guard would not have come into existence for that reason.

  Patriarch Jimin, Cian’s and Keegan's great-great-grandfather, was the first leader to challenge Heartsease's view of passivity. He thought it ignorant of his tribe to have no army and to be so compliant with relying on the other tribes for aid with bandits or criminals who caused them strife. So he scouted amongst his people for men willing to take up arms and brought them in under his guidance. A delegate from Marmor came to instruct the 1,114 chosen by Patriarch Jimin to become fighters, and from then on, Heartsease had a force, although small, named The Lamb's Guard. It should not have been seen as a bad thing that their tribe had its own protection, but by the time Patriarch Karna took leadership, he had come to detest the decisions Jimin had made.

  Where Jimin was practical, Karna was compelled by ideology. “He overcorrected,” Bomin told his sons. Not that Jimin was by any means wrong, but that is what Karna thought—and to put Heartsease on the right path, Karna made decisions he believed were right. The greatest of which was that he placed himself as Heartsease’s representative for Domino’s trial.

  —————

  The courthouse of Cadomir, a building situated in the small town of the same name, is between the tribes of Halo, Heartsease, and Noctura. It is a single-room structure, the room itself curved gently. At its heart stood a broad table, carved in a crescent, its arc facing outward toward the open floor. Three people sat at this table, each with their own seat, evenly spaced.

  Patriarch Karana sat on the left, his robes flowing in violet, white, and yellow. Strands of his off-white hair were tied in a high bun, and he wore an ornamental silver hairpin in the shape of a Wild Pansy. His eyelashes touched his olive skin as he rested his cheek against his knuckles. A picture of serenity, even with Karan’s advanced age, he always appeared more youthful than he seemed. In the middle sat the representative of Noctura—Janus—a woman of brown skin with a subtle bronze undertone, broad cheeks, and rounded eyes. She wore a high-collared dress that was close enough to show posture, not curve. Its colors range from pale hues to pink, with pink in the center. Her hair was free-flowing and combed back out of the way of her sharp eyes. On the right sat the representative of Halo—Renard—a man of peached skin, round eyes, and a long, angular face. His robes were yellow and deep orange, and his charcoal-gray hair had been bundled and hidden beneath a soft cap that fit close to the head, shaped almost like a shell drawn over the skull.

  Behind them, raised above the crescent’s center, loomed the seat of the judge from Nemesis—Pilot.

  In front of the crescent table, a single platform stood slightly raised from the stone floor. Those called to speak—whether to defend themselves or to cast blame—would step onto it, placing them on display before judgment. The space was bare beyond that. Yet along the edges of the room, set slightly back and higher than the main floor, were narrow benches for guests of high stature. These were seats of discretion—enough to grant a clear view while keeping the occupants in the shadow, and this is where Benaiah sat along with Nabu of Davar, the court scribe. Benaiah would be considered the spitting image of Cian, except he was older, lighter-skinned, and his hair was tied back by using two of the front strands to pull around the rest. He was also dressed in formal robes, the same color as his father, the top half more form-fitting while the rest flowed around him. Nabu, meanwhile, wore a fitted tunic and trousers of soft yellow and violet with an elegant overcoat, one leg over a knee as he scribbled away in his journal. His loose silver hair was kept tucked behind his ear, and his pale face was scrunched in concentration.

  “The accused may now be brought in,” Pilot commanded. His voice carried loudly within the room, with authority, yet it was not harsh. The man was burly, ebony-skinned, with patches of white and charcoal-gray hair woven into a tight braid. His robes were yellow, with white designs of birds’ feet. He played with the strands of his long beard as he looked through the glasses on his nose.

  The double doors opened to reveal Domino, his clothing more opulent than the ones he would later wear, with an amaryllis sewn on the back. One might have thought he would walk into the court with an air of confidence befitting the supposed importance of his clan, but it was the opposite. He looked like a beaten dog, head lowered, and body trembling. Benaiah’s initial thoughts were that the man was a pathetic sight, someone scared of what the future held for him, but then he caught a glimpse of Domino’s eyes. The crimson in them was swirling with emotion, yet not the emotion he was outwardly portraying. This man was a liar, and Benaiah became intrigued by what tale the man would string.

  And what a tale it was.

  It all seemed too coincidental, and it felt as though Domino was putting on a show. The man cried and became despondent when confessing his remorse for playing a part in Mina’s death, although he never explicitly stated that he was her undoing. Benaiah found it evident that Domino was guilty, and he almost scoffed at the formalities needed before Domino could be sentenced. He thought it pointless for the man to be sent away as the three representatives and the judge deliberated about the man’s fate. He knew what they would decide, or so he thought.

  “The tribe of Halo requests that Domino Adeola be released into the care of his clan,” Renard said before anyone else could speak.

  “That seems like an ill-fitting punishment for someone who has taken the life of an innocent young woman,” Pilot objected, furrowing his brow. “We can agree that he killed her. Such an act of blatant violence should be rewarded with incarceration at Rabvech.”

  “Rabvech are for souls that will be tormented with hard labour until death.” There was a smigen of disgust in Renard’s voice that caused Pilot to glare at him. “Your tribe claims that labour helps with reform, but Halo disagrees. We have made breakthroughs in the healing of the mind, and Mr. Adeola is a viable candidate to minister to. Under the care of his family, he will get the help he needs, and they will ground him in good morals whilst also protecting him from any vengeance that might come from Mina’s father. The man wants Mr. Adeola to pay with his life, but that would be a waste.”

  “I second this,” Janus said. “Halo is the tribe of healers, and such experiments aid them in their endeavors to better their talents.”

  “I’m also in agreement.” The representatives and the judge looked over at Karna. “If there is no need to execute a man, then why do so?”

  Pilot reclined in his seat. “If your tribe, Renard, wishes to take responsibility for Mr. Adeola, then that is up to your discretion.”

  “Then we are all in agreement?” Renard asked. In response, the others around him gave a nod of their heads. The matter would have been settled at that, but there was one person who could not believe what he was hearing: Benaiah. Only a matter of minutes passed before the court decided that Domino would be free, because that was what giving him back to his clan entailed. From what Benaiah had been told, and what Domino even professed during his testimony, the Adeola clan was an influential bunch. They were a clan of importance—a clan that did not dare hide their status, and Domino proved his spoiled nature.

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  Before Domino, the court had heard the testimonies of Neos, Domino’s aunt, and those not related to the Neos clan. They all corroborated that Domino was a covetous man, and his infatuation with Mina was beyond sinful. To return him to those who encouraged his foul nature would be disrespectful to Mina’s family.

  “A few words are not deliberation,” Benaiah argued. He left his shadowed seat as he went to stand on the platform; Domino had only moments before stood on. His crimson eyes were fiery as he stared accusingly at the court before him. “How can you be lenient toward a man undeserving?”

  “Benaiah,” Karna scolded. “You’re here to observe and not speak.”

  Pilot raised a hand. “Don’t be quick to reprimand, Patriarch Karna. I would like to hear what Son Benaiah has to say. Continue your thoughts, Young Scion.”

  “The law of the land that the tribes adopted is an eye for an eye, a limb for a limb. We don’t seek revenge and believe a person can repent, but the guilty party understands the consequences. Aid Mr. Adeola’s mind if that is what is in your heart to do, but he must also face repercussions. Perhaps he doesn’t need to die. I suggest you allow him to toil for his crime at Rabvech while also allowing Mind Healers to speak with him.”

  “He can toil under the watch of his parents,” Renard countered. “They will give him chores and treat him like a servant. The man is unused to strenuous labor, so the role of a servant will be enough to cause him discomfort.”

  “You just called him a man,” Benaiah pointed out. “Chores are for children, which he isn’t. I’m grateful for all that the servants of my house do for my family, but their work hardly qualifies as just punishment.”

  “It will be.” Renard’s face then scrunched up in indignation. “There is no reason for me to be arguing with you. We’ve come to a consensus, and what the court decides will be done.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with Son Benaiah,” Pilot said, his words causing Renard to whip his head around.

  “You cannot go back on your words, Pilot.”

  “I can if the accused is not present, as that means the court is still deliberating. It makes more sense to do as Son Benaiah suggested. Mr. Neos sought a death sentence, but he also would acquiesce to imprisonment at Rabvech.”

  “I suppose it does not entirely matter that you’ve altered your stance. Patrairch Karna and Janus stand with me.”

  “That is not entirely true,” Karna said. “I only care that Mr. Adeola not be sent to an early grave. Either outcome is respectable, so I will be abstaining from making a decision.” Renard was left with his mouth gaping like a fish out of water, and he could not string words together in protest. In court, the judge held two votes, while the representatives each had one. Should a representative abstain from voting and a tie occur between the judge and the remaining representatives, the tie could only be broken by the court scribe. “...What say you, Nabu? Would you agree with me or Pilot?”

  Nabu did not bother looking up from his journal as he simply responded—” Pilot.”

  Now, Renard was spiraling, unable to comprehend how the tables could have turned so abruptly. His lack of knowing what to do had Janus roll her eyes at him, her posture straightening.“Halo never birthed silver tongues. A Adoptore-blooded envoy might’ve managed your lie. You, however, only made yourself a fool.”

  “What do your words mean, Janus?” Pilot questioned, his interest piqued by the woman’s audible mublings.

  “Patrairch Karna,” Janus said, ignoring Pilot’s inquiry. “The tribe of Heartsease is affluent and wealthy to a degree. Your altruistic nature means that at times, you rely on donations from your fellow tribes to continue the work you do. Noctura glady gives, but we still refrain from offering some services for free. Side with Renard and me, and I will guarantee that should your tribe come seeking mine for something other than monetary tribute, we will gladly answer without fuss.”

  Benaiah could not believe the audacity of Janus’ words. Such a deal should hardly warrant consideration, not when it perverted the course of sound justice, yet his father looked thoughtful. “I accept,” Karna answered.

  “Father!”

  “Silence, Benaiah,” his father commanded. “You've disrupted enough. Take your seat so that we can proclaim our verdict.”

  Benaiah opened his mouth to speak further, but his father looked at him sharply. It would not do well for him to show insolence toward the leader of his tribe, so Benaiah respectfully bowed in defeat.

  Domino was soon called into the court, and his sentencing was given.

  —————

  “The court then decided that my father should be the one to speak with Neos and tell him what was to become of Mr. Adeola,” Bomin said. “He was a patriarch and seemed only fitting, in their minds, that he should bear the weight, and my father had foolishly agreed. Neos had become angry, and my father’s words offered no comfort.”

  “Why would our grandfather sell his vote for a favor?” Cian asked. It seemed ludicrous that Noctura’s expertise was enough to sway the decisions of a court. They are a tribe of clever minds, yet even their advancements hold only so much appeal. He is mostly thinking about the lights the tribe gave to Adoptore—a marvelous invention that Cian believes should be shared —but they would not have been enough to sway him had he been in his grandfather’s place.

  “Before the two of you were born, Heatsease had no means of revenue. We relied solely on the kindness of our tribal brethren, who left us to oversee philanthropy. The market we have now, and the services we charge for, came after my father stepped down as patriarch and my brother took over. Our current self-sufficiency enables us to pay for Noctura’s services, but back then, we could hardly do so, and Noctura would allow our tribe to make a request only twice a year, which they would fulfill as part of their donation. Heartsease was constantly in need of Noctura’s engineers, so to garner a favor from them meant a great deal to our father.”

  “So, because our grandfather partook in what was essentially a business agreement, we gained an enemy?” Keegan asked for clarification.

  Bomin frowned. “It was the catalyst. What further added to it was when Neos came to speak with my father in Fallen Petal.”

  —————

  Despite Neos coming as a lone man, with no visible weapons on him, Benaiah could not help but feel tense. He is a man of solid, weathered strength, carrying himself with a broad-chested, thick-armed build earned over a lifetime of labor. Age has thinned him a little at the shoulders and waist, and there’s a frail stiffness in his movements, but he still stands with an old, disciplined posture. His silver hair is neatly pulled back into a high bun, two strands framing his square jaw, softened by age yet still defined. His skin is sun-browned, with a scattering of small scars, clothed in a woking man’s tunic, sturdy and well-worn, dyed in muted earth tones or faded blues, paired with trousers. On the back of his tunic was the insignia of his clan, a wild boar’s head.

  Warden is the first to greet Neos once the man reaches the steps to the mansion. It was a formality not typically practiced as Karna preferred to greet guests personally, but everyone was as weary as Benaiah. Letters filled with spiteful rants have been sent to his father by the dozens, and the sender was not hesitant to make his identity known.

  “Good tidings to you, Clan Leader Neos. To what do we owe the pleasure of you gracing us with your presence?” Warden greeted.

  “Good tidings to you as well, sir. I’ve come to speak with your patriarch.”

  “May I ask what for?”

  “You can, but I won’t provide you with an answer.” Warden did not appreciate such a response, but he kept a cordial smile as he continued to speak with their new guest. “Our patriarch is currently indisposed, but I will inform him that you came to see him. Perhaps later he will come find you, if you tell me which inn you’re resting in.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Neos replied, his voice surprisingly gentle in tone, yet no less gruff than his appearance. “I will wait here until he can see me.”

  “Please don’t burden yourself, sir. I’m unable to say when my patriarch will become open to speaking with you, and it would be unfair for me to have you wait for such a long period.”

  “Waiting is nothing to a man like myself. Even if the sun leaves me, or if I must wait days, I won’t leave.”

  Warden bowed his head, although Benaiah could tell he was displeased by Neos’ answer. “Very well, sir,” he said, taking his leave. Benaiah followed, and after him was Bomin, who had been standing with him to see the man who had been sending threats to their father. “Keep an eye on him,” Warden ordered in a whisper as he passed by Kumo on the steps. Together, the trio went in search of Karna, who was found in his room, attending to no business, as Warden had said he was. It had been a lie to keep him safe, as Warden determined Neos's emotional state before allowing the man access to his patriarch.