The elders talk amongst themselves, and decide to send someone to retrieve the "token". I give them a description of the box, and a couple elves run off towards the forest. I guess they're going to see the, um, the creative nickname the goddess put on the box for me. How am I going to explain that?
The people in the audience talk amongst themselves while we wait for the two elves to return. The two male elders also walk down into the crowd and have a seat, listening to the various opinions, while the female elder stays up on stage. I guess she's keeping an eye on things. Her job is "accord", after all; it seems like she helps everyone stay organized.
As the minutes pass, I look at my surroundings, paying attention to details that just didn't feel as important when I was in imminent danger of being sentenced to execution.
The giant pine trees, not the typical trees you'd see for an elven community in movies and games, have a dark kind of majesty. Their tapered tops are swayed by strong winds, while the air here at ground level is still, except for the occasional soft tendril of wind brushing past, carrying the ever-present sweet pine scent.
My gaze returns to the forest floor, and I realize that what I had previously taken for sticks and twigs littering the ground were in fact giant pine needles. I give a small laugh. Imagine the pinecones.
I turn towards the arch on the stone platform where I stand. It's big enough that a moving van would be able to drive through it, if the driver was careful. It's made of large, square blocks of stone joined together in an uneven, naturalistic pattern. I realize the stone of the archway appears old, weathered, and cracked, while the stone of the circular platform it stands on is nigh-on seamless, with a dull shine. Is the platform newer, or just more durable?
And what's the platform and archway for, anyway? Is it symbolic of something? The elves seem to use it as an important meeting place.
If they let me go free, I hope they don't mind me asking a few questions about this world.
I hear the crowd starting to rise in volume. I glance over, and see two elves making their way towards the front, one of them holding a small bundle of cloth. The two elders sitting in the crowd stand up and head toward the platform as well.
The four elves step onto the stage and wait for the crowd to quiet. They sure have patience. If I were in their position, I might have snapped and just yelled at everyone to quit talking. I guess that wouldn't really mesh with their theme of "accord", huh.
Well anyways, the crowd finally quiets down and the bearded elder—I forget his name—speaks up.
"The trial shall now resume." He turns to the two elves on stage that I don't know. "Have you found the evidence?"
"Yes, Elder," one says, holding out the bundle of cloth.
The bearded elder unwraps the bundle carefully, revealing a small grey plastic box. Gee, couldn't Mariana have been more considerate of the fantasy setting? I mean, plastic, really? Ah, whatever. Remember, you're not a slug. Man, I'm really sick of thinking about slugs.
The elder is examining the box, using a corner of the cloth to turn it over, not touching it with his skin. He really seems like a real detective, avoiding fingerprints and all that.
Seriously, though, why isn't he touching it?
He finishes examining it and holds it out to me on the cloth. I carefully poke my hand out of my cloak, keeping it closed, and pick it up. I glance at the top of the box, the spot where my name's supposed to go. What did he think, seeing the word "Idiot" on the supposed token of the Goddess?
But it doesn't say "Idiot" anymore. It doesn't say anything, really—just loops of unreadable script. I blink. It hurts my eyes to look at, because the script is moving psychedelically, shifting and changing under my gaze.
Huh.
I pull my hand back under my cloak. I'll look at the box more closely later.
The bearded elder is talking to the crowd, and I tune in. It's a trial about me. I really should be paying attention.
"—with the name Mariana on the back, and it is entirely made of a strange silver-coloured material. Tell me, stranger, what does the shifting script on the narrow side of the box say?" He's turned away from the crowd to look at me. Whoop, started paying attention just in time.
"I don't know, sir—uh, Elder."
The crowd starts to murmur restlessly. I swallow. "Um, remember what I said about earning a name? The Goddess said that when I earned one, it would appear there. But I don't know what that weird writing is about."
The bearded elder's eyes widen. "Then you're telling the truth."
"I—what? I mean I am, but what do those squiggles have to do with it?"
"Those…squiggles... are Gods' Script. Gods' Script changes to represent the truth. The God I serve, Jican, created it."
"Oh."
That makes sense. Wait, but if Mariana's not a goddess yet, how'd she write in Gods' Script? Welp, no use worrying about it when it's going to save my hide.
The female elder steps forward. "In establishing the domain of the goddess, we have established several things. She saved you from death, and she saved you from your fate. She wields Gods' Script. And she wants you to earn your name. Let me ask one more thing. Why did she give you that box as her token? What does a box have to do with her domain?"
"The box has to do with her domain?"
"Yes. As I said before, everything gods do is within their domain, and speaks of their domain."
Really? I'm pretty sure Mariana just gave me floss because she thought it was funny how I died.
In response to the uncertain look on my face, the elder prods me with questions. "Does the box have a use? Or is it solely a symbol? What might that symbol represent?"
"Um, I'm not sure about it being a symbol, but it does have a use. Um, hang on." I carefully slip my arm out of the cloak again. I flip the lid open with my thumb.
"You see that strand of string? You pull it, and more string comes out, and you can cut off a piece using that metal bit."
The female elder leans closer. "Fascinating. And what happens when you've pulled all the thread out?"
"Mariana said it wouldn't run out."
"Wouldn't run out?"
"Yeah. You can't pull all the thread out. There'll always be more."
The female elder looks back at her fellow elders. The one with the beard nods at her, and she steps back. The grey-headed elder has his eyes closed.
Seconds pass, and I realize no one in the crowd is talking. Everyone's looking at the elders, so I look at the elders too, and notice the female elder and the bearded elder are both looking at the grey-haired elder. His eyes are still closed. I guess he's contemplating?
Finally, the grey-haired elder opens his eyes. Did I imagine it, or did his eyes glow for a second there?
He speaks, and his voice resounds through the space in a way it hadn't before. "She saved you from fate, and she gave you a new fate. She lets fate choose your name. And as her token, she gave you an immortal thread. What could this token speak of but the immaterial strands of fate? Therefore, let us know and acknowledge Mariana, Goddess of Fate!"
The crowd responds with a solemn voice, "We know and acknowledge Mariana, Goddess of Fate."
The box hums in my hand. I look it over, and on the back, Mariana's name has changed to Mariana, Goddess of Fate. Well, that should make her happy. Fate, huh? That domain might be more accurate than the elves know. She certainly was cruel like fate.
I don't want to break the solemn atmosphere, so I wordlessly hold out the box for the elders to see the change. They peer at it, and their expressions change to something like relief. The grey-haired elder nods slowly, then turns to the crowd.
"The goddess has received our acknowledgement!" His voice is back to normal, no longer ringing out as far, but it still has an effect on the people. A sound like a sigh passes through the audience, and everyone visibly relaxes.
Gods are a really big deal, huh. I wonder if I'd have done things differently if I knew how much of an effect name-dropping Mariana would have. Ah well. I didn't have much of a choice.
The female elder turns to the crowd. "We still have the matter of Meg's branch to address. Unintentional or not, Meg was still injured badly."
Oh yeah. The reason I'm standing here.
A man in the crowd stands, and the female elder nods at him. He asks, "Has Meg received any medical attention?"
The elder glances at the tree-people on stage. Gore speaks up. "One of our dryads ran to fetch a wood mage. They've probably reached Meg's tree by now."
"Is it possible for them to reattach her branch?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
The elder with the beard thanks him, then turns to the crowd. "I believe the truth has been laid bare. Let anyone who has anything more to add, do so now."
Seconds pass. No one says anything. The bearded elder glances at Meg, but she shakes her head. I can't read the expression on her face. I suppose she's had a pretty big day. Especially for a tree.
After some more time in silence, the bearded elder turns to the grey-haired elder. The grey-haired elder nods and faces the crowd. "We have the truth. Now, we need a decision. I have a proposal for discussion, and I'm sure some of you do as well. Discussion is now open. Please give your attention to any individual who wishes to speak to the whole. If you wish to speak, Erra will direct you."
The female elder steps off the stage and stands just beside it. As conversations pick up and the crowd grows in volume again, the bearded elder joins the crowd to discuss, while the grey-haired elder comes over to the group of tree-people and me.
He looks at Meg. "All that remains now is deciding a sentence. Of course, you are welcome to stay and participate, but you are wounded. If you wish to recover with your tree, don't feel obligated to stay till the end of the trial."
Meg does look tired. Earlier she was standing as straight as…well, as a tree, but now she's sort of drooping.
"But…" she protests.
Gore puts a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Meg. I'll make sure the outcome is just."
She laughs weakly. "You'd do that whether I was here or not." She turns to her friend who came with her, and she smiles at Meg. "Alright. I'll go back with Kristin."
Gore nods at her. "Get a good rest."
She and her friend walk off, and Gore and the other two tree-men walk off the stage and into the crowd. It's just me and the grey-haired elder on the stage now.
I glance at the old man nervously. He's looking at me with a glint in his eye.
"Sir? I mean, Elder?"
"You said you know very little of this world, yes?"
"Um, yes."
"Well, would you like to know more?"
I blink. "Right now?"
He chuckles. "Well, I don't mind answering one or two questions before I join the family in discussing your sentence. That's not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" I'm not really sure how to talk to this guy. He's being awful friendly to someone who just committed a major crime.
He shakes his head. "I don't believe you'll get too harsh of a sentence. But we'll probably require you to stay here for a while, both to serve your sentence and to prove that you aren't dangerous. One of the things I'm in charge of is the education of our people. I was wondering if you were interested in learning more while you're here."
"Oh! Yes, please."
He smiles faintly. "I thought you wouldn't mind. Accidentally maiming people isn't something I'd want to repeat."
I gulp, and look at his face. But he doesn't seem mad. "Are you… teasing me?"
He smirks.
I let out a breath. "Seriously. Not in the middle of a trial about me, okay?"
"Are you telling an Elder what to do?" His face is emotionless.
"Um…" I don't know what to make of him. "I'm sorry."
He laughs.
Ugh, come on.
"That's what happens when you tell an Elder what to do!"
I'm not sure I want to learn from this guy.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. Now, I think I've spent enough time up here, so I'm heading down to listen to what people think. Sit tight up here, and soon enough we'll be finished and we can get you some real clothes."
He pats me on the back and steps off the stage into the crowd of people discussing my fate.