"You have been charged with Treasonous Abandonment of Military Obligations, how do you plea?"
I stare at the Arbiter as if he has two heads. My formal military tunic is so tight around my throat it feels like my eyes are bulging from my head. I have never been the center of attention like this, nor did I ever expect to be prosecuted for betraying the great nation of Dracon. It's hard to breathe, let alone speak. All eyes are on me, especially the Arbiter's snakelike pupils.
"Not guilty," I reply, my voice not really sounding like my own. Anxiety riddles my body in a way that separates my soul. It feels like I'm floating above myself watching this all unfold from a third person point-of-view. Dissociation, my greatest and worst coping mechanism.
"Let the trial commence then. Prosecution, you may open."
"May it please the Court. I am Baxter Grenadine, representing the great nation of Dracon against the defendant, Killian Vile. Members of the jury, this is a case about desertion in the face of oppression. In this nation, treachery is a crime that brings with it a presumption that a defendant is guilty until proven innocent. The burden to prove Mr. Vile's innocence rests on the defense. In order to prove this, they must overcome three key elements: (1) that the defendant had a legal obligation to the military to protect this nation; (2) that the defendant intentionally defied that obligation; and (3) that the defendant took action in opposition to that obligation. I am confident that the defense will not be able to convince you…"
Baxter's whiny voice drowns out as I stare at the guillotine that sits far removed from the Court's pavilion. The guillotine stares back at me, whispering a reminder that the punishment for treason is death. It's a damn shame. It's too beautiful a day to die. The winter weather has temporarily cleared to let the sun shine on my treacherous face. It's almost like nature is celebrating my pending death sentence. Never before have I seen a blizzard last five days just to cease overnight. Well, not until this morning.
Hadley stands next to me unexpectedly. In my daydream, the prosecution has already finished their opening statements and sat down. It is Hadley's turn to speak in an attempt to undo the slander Baxter slew on my name. I've known Hadley for as long as I can remember, but life took us in separate paths as we grew older.
She went to study law, and I went to enlist in the Draconian Guard, something which I now regret immensely. I, like so many others, was sucked in by the Guard's superior propaganda plan. After all, who wouldn't want to defend their nation from foreign threats?
And the best part was, we just passed the thousandth year of peace, so there isn't a person alive who has ever experienced a threat to our great Democracy. Because of this, joining the Draconian Guard is like becoming a farmer in a season of famine—there is nothing to do. It is considered one of the easiest jobs one can attain yet it endows its soldiers with prestige and honors to make a better life for themselves.
Hadley begins, "The prosecution would have you believe my client intentionally defied his obligation to uphold military defense, but this is the crux of their case. Today, you will hear testimony from the defendant himself explaining the horrors of what happened just days ago when Exodus was attacked by a terrorist organization, thus shattering the Thousand Years of Peace…"
Nightmarish memories flood my mind at Hadley's reference to the event. I've spent every waking moment trying to forget what happened, trying to dissociate from the chaos I witnessed. But what I've seen will never leave me, and the memories haunt me whenever I shut my eyes. Since the attack, I haven't slept, haven't ate, haven't spoken. I've been under strict surveillance to ensure I don't tell others what I saw that day. People in positions of power don't want my words spreading fear. They'd sooner see my head cut from my body so the truth can die with me.
But today the truth will be revealed. Today, the truth has to be revealed. My very life depends on it. My only fear is that revealing the truth will only temporarily postpone my execution—that it will trade the guillotine for an assassin's blade in the night. I know too much to continue living. My treachery is the sole reason I was the only soldier to survive that day.
The day Exodus was felled.
The day I saw dragons bleed.
The day terrorists proved we worship false gods.