A lone figure laid upon a bench of pure white stone. The bench was cut marble and it curved into itself to make a full circle in the center of the room. It was nigh invisible against the backdrop of the chamber, as the walls, floor, and ceiling radiated the same pure glorious white. Three small arched windows stood just above arms reach on the back wall. With the noon sun shining through them, the whole chamber gave the an almost overbearing radiance of light.

The one who rested upon the cold marble that day was a woman. She was a fair skinned woman with a tangled mess of joyous red hair. She tossed and she turned upon that stone, trying to get comfortable. The woman had been drifting in and out of sleep for hours yet never quite reaching that welcoming embrace of deep rest that her body and mind clawed at so fervently. The marble was as hard and cold as ice upon her exposed arms.

She couldn’t shake the longing she felt for her coat. The coat they had stripped her of before tossing her in this pompous hole. For a hole this was, she remembered thinking when they snapped the iron gate closed the night before. Complete with one way in and one way out. Only this way out wasn’t some desperate height just above her fingertips, taunting her with her freedom. This was a gate of fine crafted and diligently polished iron bars that made up the interior wall of her chamber. The gleam of silver from the cell door whined a piercing contrast to the calmness the rest of the room provoked.

She had laughed when they tossed her in here. It had amused her to know that the stories of the capital’s white prison weren’t exaggerated in the slightest. Come see the grandest city in Gavaea, the capital Alianor’s Fold! Now with new beautiful torture chambers!

Her name was Hyde, and that might’ve been the most grandiose prison she’d ever been lucky enough to inhabit. However, it certainly wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last, she was sure of that. For Hyde was a criminal. A thief, a rogue, a bandit, even occasionally, a murderer. Murderer. She had reeled in disgust the first time that word had been used to describe her. Hyde always considered herself an intellectual thief, never debasing herself with the likes of those that take indiscriminately, innocent lives or otherwise. However, she was a seasoned criminal now, and that naïve child within her was extinct. Still, she despised the act, and only treaded that line when all other circumstances were lost. Fortunately for her, her alleged crimes on this day did not contain this word. One must adhere to all victories they can in this world.

The touch of the marble stone had evolved from a nipping chill to a frigid pain. The extravagance of the capital had gone well into the realm of overindulgence in recent years. Hyde shuddered to calculate the sheer cost of such a prison. She was no stranger to the mines, or the trading of fine metals. Her line of work had led her to many avenues of business. Some less lucrative that others. The transport of such minerals like this marble being one of her less than fruitful endeavors. Seeing so much of it in one place, and used for such a barbaric purpose, was almost impressive. Seeing hardened criminals ache and reel against the cold stone prison might’ve gotten a smile from Hyde under traditional circumstances. Fools for getting caught in the first place, she would tell herself. She had no tolerance for the particularly violent and the deranged that wound up in these cells. She’d heard tales of many poor souls that were forced to call these chambers “home” for months, even years. Hyde remembered a story of one fool who’s mind broke against these marble walls, both metaphorically and literally. He had split his skull open with a sprint and a dive against the edge of the circular bench. What a sight that must’ve been to see the lake of red against the unblemished sea of glistening white. The people of this city do cater to a certain flair for the dramatic, after all.

Drama. Theater. Parties. The only thing the aristocrats of the Fold love more than accumulating money is spending it. Hyde knew this, it’s why she came back to the city. When you spend your life jumping between the receding shadows of the world, it’s impossible to ignore the light for long. The capital being the brightest of them all.

This humble thief found her light walking though the upper east side of the Fold. The east side of the city was what rested upon the lake Ascension, and it was a humbling place. The rich had claimed these homes as their own, the view had been simply too wonderful to pass up. Houses with tall windows, and even taller ceilings. Each with handcrafted doors as worthy as any other display of art. If one could only find their way through those doors, the bolts, the locks, the chains, and the many servants in attendance, one could retire with what could be snatched from the foyer alone.

It was luck she even managed to step foot in that corner of the city. People of her position and makeup are generally chased out of the peripheral vision of the wealthy by brooms and sticks before even getting close. She could’ve scarcely hidden among them any more than a dog can walk on his hind legs and say things like; “My handmaiden had the nerve to spill a drop of wine on my new silk sheets this morning. I had it cast out the window and sent for a new one. Such a dreadful waste too, she was wearing an exquisite evening gown I had given her when she fell. The new handmaiden claims the blood won’t wash out. Two tasteless tragedies in one day.”

That was something she heard out on the street the other day by a fat woman in the back of a carriage. At least, that’s probably what she said. Hyde discovered she seldom listened to the drivel these debutants spat out with the air they so carelessly stole from the rest of us.

At least the rant caught enough of Hyde’s attention for her to notice who the fat aristocrat was talking to. It was none other than the baroness Necole Fayette. A lady who’s lavish reputation extended far beyond the depths of her own family’s gene pool.

The Fayettes had been a ruling family from the city Teville, in Haern. Alianor’s Fold was a long way from Haern to be sure, but the capital was a melting pot of the rich and powerful. The eldest daughter of the “great” Theo Fayette. Necole had recently married her cousin, Simon Fayette. Hyde assumed her arrival in the capital was to formally receive recognition of the marriage, and to be formally introduced as lord and lady Fayette to the king.

The whole business made Hyde nauseous. She stole a glance at the baroness’ perfectly powdered face through the open window of the carriage. One look was all that was needed for Hyde to assess the woman. The eyes told the tale. The baroness stared blankly at her compatriot and nodded enthusiastically when it was appropriate to do so within their conversation. The fat lady went on and on about her day, but the baroness said little. Generations of inbreeding may have kept the beauty of the Fayette line pure and unblemished, but their wits had rotted away faster than a dead rat on a hot day.

Still, brains or not, Necole was stunning. Beauty in the most traditional way. Porcelain skin smoother than cream, lips of deep red, and eyes deeper and bluer than any clear day Hyde had ever dreamt as possible. She stepped from that carriage just a few feet from Hyde. The crowd of devotees had yet to be gathered around her, and for a brief moment, there was only Necole and her. The disheveled, messy haired thief was within arm’s reach of royalty, and she was speechless. To the credit of the baroness, she quickly picked up on this commoner’s stunned demeanor, and offered a curtly wave.

Hyde would’ve responded to the kind gesture, if she had but noticed the wave at all. Instead, she was staring unblinking at the jewel dangling from the baroness’ neck. It was a chilly blue sapphire the size of an apple, attached to a chain of shimmering gold.

She could almost feel the weight of that jewel in her hands. The weight of such a stone wouldn’t have been that much. She could’ve held it comfortably within her palm, but she felt it would’ve been the gravest of sins to not to cradle it delicately with as hands as she could find. Even now, in the lonely white prison cell, Hyde twirled the imaginary jewel above her head like a pendulum.

She wanted to bite it. To feel the weight of that much luxury between her teeth. Was sapphire as cold as it looked? She pondered. Did it taste like the ice it resembled? She’d never held one before. Hyde always fancied emeralds, or malachite. The green ones. She had a weakness for the green jewels that matched her eyes.

Years ago, she had seen the most perfect emerald around the neck of some duke’s daughter out in Grace Harbor. Hyde remembered the exact moment she saw it, as it came mid sprint to catch a ferry out to Haern that was now guaranteed to embark without her. White gold was cradling that one, another weakness of Hyde’s. Such a rare treat to see white gold. Only a recent fashion trend, most saw it as a mistreatment of pure gold; a blasphemy. That was why Hyde liked it, of course. She identified with that mentality. Loving the unlovable.

The duke was furious when his daughter lost it. He punished the guards on her detail furiously. She didn’t see this first hand. Hyde was eavesdropping on the gossip of a local inn the following morning. She sat, enjoying a cup of ale with breakfast, twirling the jewel within her jacket pocket. Apparently, the necklace was to be the start of a new family heirloom. A pity. The daughter should’ve had a better watch upon it when she slipped her body guards and snuck into the stables to meet the boy. The throws of passion, there exists no better blinder to a young woman’s judgement than Hyde had ever known. If only all heists could be so simple.

That stone did not taste like ice. It tasted of grapes, the purple ones, not the green. The goblin she sold it to gave her a troubling look when she told him that tidbit, but he paid her a good price anyway.

Hyde wondered if she could’ve even found a buyer for Necole Fayette’s sapphire. She doubted the goblins up in the Points had ever seen such a jewel like that. If she was ever fortunate enough to find one, she’s sure an early retirement was a possibility. Not that she ever would. Buying a house in some quiet town and spending all her time tilling crops, sewing clothes, and discussing the latest fashion trends coming from the capital with her equally pathetic neighbors. Hyde shivered and fought back the bile rising in her throat. Goddess knows she couldn’t stain such a spotless prison cell with vomit! The shame! They’d never invite her back.

Still, the money would’ve been nice. Hyde could pick pocket enough to make sure they never starved, but that wasn’t enough. They did work just as hard as everyone else in this world. They deserved better, even if their better was someone else’s first.

“Ain’t that right?” She asked aloud. The cell block had been quiet all morning, and that irked her.

“Damn straight, boss,” a voice answered back. It was high-pitched, but had a coarseness to it that clearly defined it as masculine.

It was Levy. As that was who Hyde was talking to. As if her faithful companion had been audience to all the thoughts in her head all morning. That was how those two worked. Many times without exchanging words, but always on the same page.

Levy was a goblin, and one of many that had worked under the tutelage of Ms. Hyde over the years. She had an affinity for the goblins, appreciated how their minds worked. Perhaps even more surprisingly, is how much they grew to appreciate her. No human had ever won the trust of the goblins before. This fact was something that Hyde never took for granted. Most of the time, anyway.

Levy had been a good little soldier for years now. Given their line of work, it was nothing short of remarkable he had survived this long. A feat his employer found most impressive. None of the others had lasted longer than six months.

“What do you think?” She asked.

“I think…” Levy paused, “we’re clear.”

Then Hyde was on her feet and walking towards the iron gate. Levy had been keeping an eye out on the guard’s rotation. She had been listening out for footsteps as well but hadn’t heard anything for hours, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. She noticed they liked to take post at the end of the hall and stay quiet and motionless for hours. The usual guards had left their posts a few minutes ago, but they had to be sure before making their move.

“You sure?” Hyde questioned him.

Levy had been lying on his back with his feet up on the wall beside the gate. Dirt and dust had been rubbed onto the white marble where his boots had been against it. His black trousers and grey wool tunic were leaving similar patches of dust around him like an outline of filth. Levy’s skin was always of a darker green tone than the rest of his kin. What was normally an olive-green tone now looked almost brunette with the dirt than adhered to his arms, neck and face. This was the work of the patrolmen when they caught up to them.

The goblin had put up more of a fight than the men were expecting. He kicked the teeth out of the first guy, then lit off a fist popper in the face of the next. The little pocket sized bomb singed off half the guard’s hair, and burned his cheek and ear black. Hyde also knew that poor guy would never hear with that ear ever again. He was screaming and cradling his head when two other guards had to pin down Levy to get the irons on him. There was something hilarious about watching a little green goblin, barely taller than their waist, put them through so much hell. That’s why she kept Levy around, after all. That and his bombs… mostly his bombs. The fist popper was a Levy original. Such a marvelous design.

“The mook was leaning on the wall for hours before he snuck away. My guess is he’s taking an unsanctioned leave for a few minutes to catch some shut eye.” Levy grunted as he made his way to his feet. It was a sad, slow process. He clutched his side as he rose. He winced in pain when he stood and hunched over immediately.

He noticed her staring, “After I lit up that poor bastard’s ear, they searched me real good. Got all my stuff. Got a few kicks in too when I was chained. Those standard issue greaves are serious business, boss. I think I still taste iron, or that might be the blood.” Levy spat and now the marble was marked with red as well.

“Picking on the little guy.” Hyde made her voice as condescending as she could. “Have they no honor?”

“Yeah, alright. How’s the lock? I can’t get a good look at my angle.”

“You mean you’re too short to see it?” Hyde teased.

No response. He really must be hurting. Hyde focused back on the lock. She was reaching through the gates and feeling it out. The iron’s impressive, as is everything else in this place. No wear, no chips, not even a touch of rust. She looked across the hall to Levy’s lock. It was the same as far as she could tell from where she stood. Hyde was now very grateful there weren’t any other prisoners in the nearby cells. Breaking out always caused such a ruckus, otherwise.

Hyde withdrew from the lock and instinctively ran her hand through her hair. It was greasy from a layer of soot that was so common about her that if it were gone she’d miss it almost as much as she missed her coat. A great many hidden pockets were sewn into that coat it that the guards would never have found all her tools. Knives, lock picks, sleeping powder, a few bombs, all meticulously hidden away in the folds. Instead they just took the whole damn thing and tossed her in here to freeze. Savages.

When she ran her hand back to where her mess of hair was bound together she felt the absence of another lock pick. Hyde knew it was gone, the guards had looked so smug when they found it. Her own confidence had shriveled and turned to dust when they tossed away that pick. At least, that’s the part she played. It worked. When you find what you’re looking for, that doesn’t mean the search is done. A piece of wisdom nobody cared to share with the guards this day. Not that she was complaining. The thief kicked off her left boot and dug out the spare tools tucked under the heel. One can never have too many of these things. The irony of a little bit of knowledge, Hyde thought to herself, it can even turn the smart ones into fools.

“You ain’t gonna blow it up?” Levy seemed a touch disappointed.

“With what?” Hyde answered without looking up. She began working the lock. “You said it yourself, they took all your toys, and do you see my coat?”

“Ah right. I apologize, boss. My wits haven’t exactly come back to me just yet. I would’ve liked to have seen you light Chatelaine in here, though.” His tone was wistful, like he was looking up at the sky on a starry night.

Using Chatelaine in these walls would likely deafen them both for a week. Levy doesn’t think about that stuff though, none of them do. There’s nothing more divine to the goblins than the booms they make. Collateral damage hardly garners a second thought for them. In fact, a great few engineers in their history are remembered solely because of the destruction and body counts their booms caused, and if they died in the process as well? That all but guarantees their name on a plaque somewhere in the Points.

Hope lied with the lock pick, this day. Hyde was plenty experienced with this sort of thing. After only a couple minutes she heard the clink of the first pin being set. She counted three pins when she began. Normally, picking a three pin lock might take an average thief upwards of half an hour, an experienced burglar in twenty. Hyde was neither of these. The second pin clinked into position only five minutes after the first.

“You really don’t want to be here anymore, do you?” Levy’s voice barely broke through her concentration.

“What I want is obscenely large sapphires and patrolmen who stick to their fucking schedules.” She answered at barely above a whisper. Her attention began slipping, despite the circumstances. The jewel was in sight from the balcony. Shabby lock on the window. Just needed two minutes to make the grab. The guard had the attention span of a child. Why did he come back?

“Boss,” he was whispering, “someone’s coming.”

Her hook pick was resting on the last pin. One more turn was all she needed. The echoes of iron boots down the hall was misleading. Over twenty cells on this floor alone, that means a long corridor to walk from either end. Best she’s been able to guess, their cells were near the middle of the hall.

She could make it. However, there’d be no time to pick Levy’s door. Hyde glanced back up at her partner. His small dusty hand was bracing the iron bars for support. He was hunching noticeably to the left side, his other hand clutching his stomach. Got a few kicks in too when I was chained.

Hyde cursed silently and withdrew the hook and tumbler from the lock. The two pins slid back into their original locked position and made the tiniest of clicks. To her, it sounded like waves crashing on a pier.

#

The capital’s courthouse was no less glamorous than its prison. Though, instead of the bleak white marble being the only presence, now we get to be reminded of their creators. The justice’s raised platform sat in the wake of several portraits upon the back wall. Former lord justices, all dead and gone. Now looking down upon their predecessors, judging them, as they judge the rest of us.

“Does the accused have a name?” A heavy gruff voice asked out.

It was the fat one on the far left of the table. A big, burly man, with thin grey hair and a scratchy beard. He never even bothered to glance up at Hyde, at the accused. None of them did. Nine men in total made up the Justice Council of Alianor’s Fold. All clad in black robes, these men sat in judgement of all criminals that came to their city.

It appeared Old Grey Baldy, was to be the one to start the proceedings. That was probably why he sat on the left. Hyde smiled openly, she knew none of the justices were bothering to look at her and the small audience that was present was at her back. It was like a children’s reading lesson. Remember Timmy, left to right, ok?

In truth, she had only been in prison for less than one day. However, the excitement of the attempted heist before had dominated her priorities and she hadn’t stopped to eat that day. For two days, all she’d eaten had been a solitary plate of hard bread and cheese, with barely enough water to parch the tongue, as well. She had been walked to her post in the middle of the courtroom, chained to the floor, and made to stand for what seemed like hours while the audience, more guards, and justices all entered and took their positions.

Hyde was hungry. Her throat was dry, and her stomach ached in the unrelenting pain of deep, lasting hunger. The fact that her freedom had been so close, only to be snatched away at the last moment had soured her mood intensely.

“Diya Hyde, as it pleases you, Your Grace,” she answered proudly. As soon as she knew she had the attention of at least a few of the justices, she bowed. The act was illustrious and offensive, she even made a point to ring the chains on her wrists and ankles.

She kept her head down, but Hyde could feel the contempt seething off the justices like a bonfire. Their grey eyes staring her down behind stainless bifocals.

“And this, good sirs,” She continued, “is my gentlemen associate… Levy, a goblin merchant from The Points.”

“Charmed,” Levy replied as he made a gesture of tipping his nonexistent hat. Pride forced the goblin to not clench his side as he stood beside his employer. Still, Hyde knew how much pain he must’ve been in.

Much to the surprise of everyone in attendance, the council seemed speechless. Their stoic faces remained resolute in their staring of the accused down. All except the squirrely one second to the left. He stifled a giggle. Drop me in the hole and toss away the key, at least I got a laugh.

Old Grey Baldy on the far left wasn’t amused. Turns out he just needed a moment to find his words. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat in a booming effort that echoed through the court. It must still be his turn to speak. Hyde saw no nod or passing of the torch that would prove otherwise.

“Young lady,” He began, “Do not presume to make a mockery of this court. You will find us all less than patient for your… distractions.” Upon saying the word “all” the giggling little judge at his side sat up straighter. “Now, Ms. Hyde and… ‘Levy’ is it? Does it have a last name?”

“Yes, indeed, your honor. It does,” Levy answered. His tone was jovial, as always. He wouldn’t take the offense of the justice upon his kind, he’d gotten over that prejudice years ago. “Yet, in my experience, I found that most of you people seldom ask for it, and those that do, seldom give a shit about it in the first place.”

The justice raised an eyebrow at this, “fair enough. ‘Levy’ then?”

“Short for Eleven,” Levy continued. “That’s what she called me initially. Of course, as we got more comfortable with each other-” the word ‘other’ sounded like ‘utter’ coming from his Points accent. “-she just started calling me ‘Leven’.”

“Yes, that’s terribly fascinating,” The justice interrupted, clearly in no mood to suffer fools in his court. “I just needed-”

“-Course, now she just calls me ‘Levy’.” Levy noted the interruption, and decided not to give a damn. “Which makes sense I suppose. Sounds better, yeah?” The question was rhetorical, he had no plans to wait for him to respond. “But, ‘prolly soon she’ll start calling me ‘Lev’ or just ‘Eee’. Damn humans and your lazy fucking-”

“That’s enough, goblin!” The man sitting in the direct middle shouted. He was the first to speak besides the bald one, and his interjection immediately stifled the laughter from the audience. He wore a hawk like face if Hyde had ever seen one. Big blue eyes glaring down a pair of round eyeglasses that perched atop a sharp angular nose. “The two of you stand accused of the attempted burglary of the Baroness Fayette’s sapphire gemstone necklace. Justice Carson, what was the appraised cost of the jewelry?”

The thin justice who appreciated Hyde’s performance earlier shuffled through some paperwork on the table. “Its, uh, approximately two hundred crowns, lord justice.”

Two hundred crowns! That baron Fayette was a lying sack of shit. Sapphires were rare enough this side of the Storm Bay, but to think he would shell out two hundred pieces for his new stick of a bride was ludicrous.

The lord justice laughed. A merrily laugh that spoke against the authority of the ‘lord’ justice. “That Fayette must think very little of us. Two hundred. Bah!” His laugh turned to a retching cough. Hyde realized then just how old the man was. It made sense for the lord justice to be the elder, but his laughter seemed so hearty that he looked far younger than his years. He wiped his mouth with a cloth hidden in his sleeve and motioned back to Hyde. “Ms. Hyde, what would be your guess as to the worth of such a gem?”

She took a moment to clear her throat. They asked her for the appraisal? This could be a trick. Although, the rest of the justices seemed just as confused as she did. Sell it good, dear.

She began, “I don’t know, actually. The gem looked so pretty and expensive, we didn’t think about it. The baroness has so many nice things. I don’t… Two hundred crowns… seems like a lot.”

A ruse. She could get maybe one hundred and twenty for it here in the capital, twenty more at Grace Harbor where trade is a bit less regulated. Enough for that cabin in the lonely village with the insipid neighbors. The lord justice was simply testing her knowledge, eyeing her experience. She wouldn’t fall for that. Hyde even turned to Levy and mimed ‘two hundred’ silently with her lips. He was appropriately shocked and responded with a good ole ‘wow’.

The lord justice rubbed his chin, “Yes it does. Tell me, Ms. Hyde, do you have any notion as to why the baron would wish the inflate the value of his wife’s jewelry?”

“I don’t know, your honor. Perhaps he wishes for the people to know how rich and powerful he is?” She answered. This one probably wasn’t a lie. All the royalty inflate their wealth. A dragon’s hoard is never enough for these people.

“The punishment for attempted thievery of such value is death.” The lord justice held no sympathy in his words. He read the nature of the world as simply as he saw it. His position held no room for empathy or emotion, and he seemed very good at his job.

Hyde was a mirror. Displaying just as much emotion as those in authority over her fate. This punishment was no surprise, for either of the accused. That was precisely why the baron had inflated the value. He wanted to see them hanged. The two had talked briefly about it last night in the cells. Was this to be the last hurrah? Had their reach finally exceeded their grasp. Perhaps. A daylight heist in the upper west side of the Fold, lifting a piece like that. They had grown too comfortable. A death sentence for sure. This was the unfortunate and inevitable outcome of their way of life. There’s no such thing as an old thief. Only dead ones, or retired ones. They had made their piece with that long ago.

The lord justice continued, “Have you anything to say on your behalf?”

This was it. What could she do?

“Esteemed justices, I can assure you, my friend and I had no idea the gem’s real value? Do you think us so foolish to try to steal something so expensive? We were desperate! We hadn’t had any coin in our pockets for weeks!” Wet, hot tears fell upon her cheeks. She didn’t realize she was crying. Could she have had the power to hold them back? She didn’t know. The line between act and reality was becoming blurred. Hyde had no desire to be hanged. “We’re just so hungry. Have you even been so hungry that you did something horrible just to-”

The lord justice raised his hand, gesturing Hyde to stop. “Young lady, you had been warned not to make any more mockeries of this court. Now, I’d threaten you further, but since the punishment of hanging has already been stated I don’t think it would make a difference.”

Hyde was reaching. She knew nothing she could say would dissuade the council from the duty. All she could hope for now was to be left alone in her cell once more. Perhaps the execution could wait until morning? She was on track to pick the three-pin lock in record time earlier, she could do it faster still. The threat of death is a fantastic motivator.

The members of the council began whispering to one another. Hyde couldn’t make out what they were saying but she understood all the same. The solemn nods of approval, the occasional stolen glance towards her and Levy. She felt a nudge against her boot. She looked at her partner. Hyde once enjoyed calling Levy her ‘intern’, but not anymore. He had once been her underling, never knowing any better to question her or her requests, just like his predecessors. He was different. Levy soon stood out from the pack, became her partner instead. Now when Hyde looked upon him, he was smiling. Levy didn’t need to say anything. Pleasure working with you, boss.

That struck her deep. He didn’t think they could make it out of this one. It came crashing down to Hyde at that moment. Why would they lock them both back up for the night? There were no other prisoners. She saw that earlier. Why waste the time? Just hang them now and be done with it.

She smiled back at Levy. Pleasure’s all mine.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and a small contingency of the legion burst in. The whole court began clamoring at once. The people in the audience gasped and began talking amongst themselves in an almost deafening manner. The legion was moving with great haste towards Hyde. Rather, that’s what it seemed at first, but soon they rushed past her and approached the justice’s table.

A few of the justices were on their feet and shouting at the gall of the legion for interrupting their court. The lord justice said nothing, his hawk like eyes took in the whole scene. He stood resolute in the chaos that erupted in his chambers.

The legion soldiers were out of breath. Their faces drenched with the sweat of urgent men determined in their mission. A scouting party, Hyde guessed by their light armor and small numbers. They stank of horse as they passed close by her. Whatever it is they found, it was urgent indeed.

“Sir justice,” The lead soldier called out. He was out of breath and when he stopped to speak, many of his comrades looked grateful and began to pant in their armor. Much to the surprise of Hyde though, the soldier wasn’t addressing the lord justice, but Old Grey Baldy. The one that began the court.

“Yes?” Baldy answered. His word was a demand of the intrusion. “What is it?”

“Sir, It’s captain Mathiall and the Third Legion.” The solider answered like a well-trained subordinate. “We found them.”

“Richard! My brother! Where is he?” Now the fat justice was shouting. Justice Mathiall he must be, she guessed.

The legion suddenly grew silent. The court was now ominously quiet as the same soldier approached the bench and speak to the justices in a hushed voice. The attention of everyone in attendance was rapt before the whispers of the legion soldier. If it wasn’t for these damn chains, Hyde thought, I could slip out without any of them being the wiser.

“No, Damnit! Richard!” Justice Mathiall yelled and slammed his fist onto the table. He began to weep immediately. The squirrely justice next to him put his arm on his colleague’s shoulder

The shocked and hushed voices in the court began chirping again. Hyde never gave the legions enough attention for the name Richard Mathiall to have any resonance within her. She did her best to avoid the crusaders at all costs. The legion was the church’s military after all, and the clergy didn’t hold people like Hyde in high regard. If it had been the legion that had caught her in attempted burglary instead of the city guard then she would’ve been killed on the spot. The legion never spared the time for petty crime. Their directive was much higher than that.

“Please, everyone. If we could have your silence then we can let these soldiers speak.” The lord justice’s voice boomed through the turmoil. Quiet quickly became the court. He took his seat and addressed the legion. “What happened at Redstone, captain?”

The scouting captain introduced himself as Urban, then he told the tale. The entire population of Redstone was dead or missing. Evidence of a raid was present. The surrounding ground was trampled and bloody, the homes ransacked, but no bodies from the alleged raiders were found. The third legion was found in a clearing in the back of town, all dead. Each soldier was found near the body of one of the townspeople. The weapons that killed the soldiers were found in the vicinity of each villager. Then Urban grew quiet, and his gaze shifted back to his men. None could bring themselves to return the stare. Each one drifting their eyes to the floor.

“Captain Mathiall,” the lord justice spoke up, “his fate the same as his men?” His question directed at any of the soldiers who could answer it.

Urban answered his lord justice. “No, my lord, I’m afraid it’s worse. Captain Mathiall’s face had been burned. Something dark is at play here, my lord. The face was unrecognizable, we only identified him by the ranks on his armor and the papers he carried. What’s worse is… the skin was cold. Not just a corpse cold, I’ve seen death in my time, my lord. This was… unnatural. We could all feel the cold when we approached him. It was unnatural, I could feel it in my blood. I’d never felt a cold like that in my life.” Urban’s words brought nervous nods of approval from his men.

“What sorcery is this?” The lord justice demanded. He looked baffled. Something Hyde guessed as not a feeling he regularly feels. The legion scouts all fumbled for answers, but found none. None of them could explain what new nightmare scenario had just occurred to their brothers in arms.

Hyde knew. She was all too familiar with this madness.

“Necromancy,” Hyde answered to the panicked room.

The whole company of soldiers and justices all turned to look at her. They were speechless, locked in stunned silence. All except for the lord justice. He rubbed his chin and stared back at her.

“Nobody has seen a necromancer in thirty years.” He interjected, clearly not buying how some low brow criminal like Hyde could know anything about this matter. “The heretics have all been killed how-”

“-The face,” She motioned towards Urban with her bound hands. “It’s called the Winter’s Kiss. A favored mean to kill amongst their kind.” Hyde was talking fast and found that she couldn’t stand still any longer. She took several steps towards the men but was yanked back by the chains and left her alone in the center of the courtroom.

“The necromancer channels death. Death itself!” Hyde was shouting now. “The everlasting cold touch of death into his hands. They say it feels like a thousand tiny splinters of ice stabbing through your skin. It’s agony. Torture turned tenfold. A death too terrible than the worst of us deserve. For it is the worst of us that wield it!”

Hyde assessed the justices then. All of them were waiting eagerly for her next words. They gave her their undivided attention, despite barely acknowledging her existence as they were about to condemn her to the gallows just moments before. Now, they were hers.

“I know this because I’ve seen it before. In a remote town in the corner of worthless and unimportant. I found bodies that are exactly like the dear captain Urban is describing. I found the necromancer hiding out there in a cabin.” Hyde took a pause, she wanted the weight of the next few words to sink in. “I killed him and took the town’s purse as my payment.”

The lord justice nodded. “What is it you want, Ms. Hyde?”

“Simply to make amends for my sins, your honor. Take the chains off of me and my associate. Pardon us of this crime and set us on our task. If you do this, then I give you my word. I’ll find and kill this Necromancer myself.”

The clamor of the courthouse erupted again. Many of those in the legion and on the justice table were shouting for her release. Others called for her to be thrown back in her cell. Hyde just walked calmly back to her post. With her back to the chaos she looked down at Levy.

His devious little smile told Hyde everything she needed to know. Then he whispered, “Think they’ll give me my fist poppers back?”