The collective shock of thousands was something to behold, most had never seen the powers of an Archon on display before. What followed was an exhale of air filled with amazement.
The judge, his face now the color of milk stared in jowly faced horror. Marx's expression went from one of predator to confused prey. Beside Creed, Carson looked like he was about to vomit up his own soul.
Valerius paid them no mind. He moved in his usual fluid grace to the witness stand and seated himself. He placed his hands calmly on the table before him.
The silence stretched.
The judge opened his mouth but only a dry croak escaped.
Then, Valerius's own voice interrupted the silence. It was smooth and soft, yet filled the colossal space as if he were whispering in every ear.
"I swear upon the Weaver's eternal thread to speak only what the Tapestry reveals as truth, so help me goddess."
He had recited his own oath, his black eyes sweeping across the court as if looking for an objection. Silence returned.
Then the judge flinched, as if slapped.
"Archon, I… we…"
"Will you not begin your questioning, Prosecutor?"
Valerius's head tilted slightly. He wasn't addressing Marx, he was looking directly at Carson.
Carson went as pale as a ghost. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. He looked at Creed, his eyes filled with panic, accusing him for the situation he had found himself in. Creed met his gaze and gave him a short, almost unnoticeable nod.
'This is it. The only move left. Play it.'
"I uh… Yes. Your Honor… I mean Archon."
He stuttered, papers trembling in his hands.
"Archon Valerius… you were present during... the incident?"
It was a stupid question, but Valerius answered it nonetheless.
"I was."
"And the defendant… Creed, he used a weapon? The sphere?"
"He did."
Carson was struggling. He took a shaky breath, trying to remember his desperate theory.
"Do you believe, Archon, that a boy of his status could, on his own, come to such a destructive conclusion about life, about the Spire, about you?"
Here it was. The moment they would call him crazy and laugh him out of the room.
But Valerius tilted his head thoughtfully.
"It is unlikely."
The answer was a lifeline. It confirmed he was a pawn, not a king. Carson seized it.
"So he was influenced? Manipulated? Perhaps by this very weapon?"
He turned and gestured to the weapon as all eyes followed him.
Valerius's words began to weave a new narrative.
"The Spire faces many deceitful threats. Forces that often prey on the lost and isolated. It is not outside the realm of possibility that the boy was a victim before he became the aggressor."
The crowd murmured, their hostility shifting to confusion mixed with a little bit of consideration. Marx was on his feet.
"Objection! The Archon is speculating!"
Valerius didn't even turn to look at him.
"Am I?"
The judge, who had been watching the exchange with terror in his eyes, like a mouse trapped between two snakes, slammed his gavel weakly.
"Overruled."
Carson, now fueled by wild hope, took one final gamble.
"Archon Valerius."
His voice was gaining strength with every word.
"You are the victim here. More than anyone in the Spire, you have the right to demand justice. So I ask you, what do you believe should happen to Creed?"
The entire colosseum held its breath.
Valerius didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his unnervingly beautiful face towards Creed, their eyes locking. The weight of his gaze was enough to make Creed's shoulders hunch slightly.
"Creed. Do you wish to live?"
His voice was soft, a seemingly private question in a public forum.
The murmur of the crowd, his isolation, the years of failure. It all melted away. Creed's throat was dry, only able to croak out one small word.
"Yes."
Valerius gave a slow, satisfied nod, then turned his attention back to the court. His voice was filled with power.
"Verdia's Tapestry is a complex thing. It is woven with threads, threads of loyalty, strength, and yes, of failure. A life is not defined by a single mistake."
He paused for a moment.
"This boy faltered. He was pushed to the edge by forces he did not understand, and he fell. But the Spire is not a place of Execution. It is a place of guidance. Of redemption."
His gaze swept over the silent crowd. "To destroy a life that strayed too far is easy. To guide them back to the path… now that's to follow the true tapestry that Verdia weaves."
He rose from the witness stand and gilded back to the center of the marble floor.
The judge watched him, his expression shifting from one of awe back to stern faced duty. The old man wasn't quite convinced.
Then, in an instant, the old man's expression changed again.
His eyes went wide with terror. The color drained from his face, turning it milky again. He gasped, choking for air as if an invisible hand was wrapped around his throat.
In that same moment Creed also witnessed Valerius turn slightly, his feet never seemed to leave the ground and he moved at a speed so impossibly fast it looked like he teleported. To any normal person this might have just looked like a case of your mind playing tricks on you. But Creed knew what it was. Valerius had moved, and he had done so while everyone else was frozen. Whatever he did in that time was enough to cause pure terror to the unconvinced judge.
In the next moment, Valerius was gone from the floor. He was back in his high booth, seated calmly as if he had never even left.
The judge stared at the empty space, then at the Archon high above. His whole body was trembling.
"The… the court…"
He was fumbling his papers.
"The courts… find… considering the circumstances… and… and the Archon''s wisdom…"
"Objection your Honor, the process–"
Marx was yelling, his face one of complete rage.
"SILENCE"
The judge slammed his gavel down with enough force to shatter the wood.
"THE DEFENDANT, CREED, IS FOUND NOT GUILTY!"
Silence.
Then applause, a confused applause spread through the crowd. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't for Creed. It was for Valerius and his display of power and wisdom. Standing near the middle of the marble floor, Carson's legs gave out. He collapsed to the ground, his career had been saved. He lowered his head and his shoulders began to shake, droplets started to cover the ground beneath him.
It was over.
"We did it," Carson whispered, and somehow, Creed heard it across the arena. "We actually did it."
After a short while, as students and staff continued to file out of the arena, Carson got up from the ground and walked over to Creed. Flashing him his first genuine smile in a long time. Creed himself felt a hysterical laugh rising in his chest.
"I tried to assassinate an Archon and got off scot-free."
Carson let out a shaky laugh.
"Not exactly scot-free. This trial was just to decide if they were allowed to execute you. You'll still be punished. Expulsion is still on the table, a lesser court will decide on that later."
A short silence fell between them.
Then they laughed.
It started as a quiet chuckle by both of them, but it grew, filled with the relief of avoiding execution and maintaining a hold of a career. It turned into a hysterical laugh.
But their fun was cut short, just as they had finished their hysterical activities, two figures appeared at their table. They were guards, but not the ones from before. These guards were dressed in thick black robes that buttoned up down the middle, black veils obscuring their faces completely. They moved without a word each taking one of Creed's arms, pulling him to his feet.
"Hey, where are you taking him?" Carson demanded, scrambling up.
The guards ignored him, marching Creed away from the table and down a corridor different from the one that led to his cell. Carson's protests faded in the background as they got farther away. This corridor was dark and unmarked. The further they went, the deeper the darkness grew, until barely any light penetrated inside.
Then, he felt it. A sharp prick on the side of his neck.
Before he had the chance to react a wave of dizziness washed over him. His knees buckled, and the dark corridor began to spin. His consciousness was dissolving like salt in water. As he tumbled down to the cold stone floor, the last thing he heard was a quiet exchange between the veiled guards.
"Who ordered this?" A rough voice asked.
"Valerius. It seems he's found a new dog."