A Shattered Confession:Part Four

     Sylvana watched intently as the white bruce motioned to Elijah, who hobbled over to the witness stand. His entire body shook as he slowly sat down, taking in a rather weary sounding breath.

     “Elijah Gawain, was it?” The kougra asked. “The Council of Meridell thanks you for sharing what you know.”

     The ogrin nodded wordlessly.

     “Do you know this kyrii, the one who calls herself Sylvana?” The judge pointed to the darigan kyrii.

     “Yes,” Elijah answered. “We found her in the stormy season of last year.”

     “We?” The zafara magistrate asked.

     “My wife Arya and I, magistrate,” Elijah answered.

     Both the zafara magistrate and the kougra judge eyed Arya, who’s eyes immediately darted away.

     “You found her? Where did you find her?”

     “In the fields of my farm. One of our Whinnys escaped from the pen, so I sought to find it in the morning.” Elijah’s eyes went to the ground. “It was a stormy day, but I couldn’t let it slow me down. But instead of finding the Whinny, I found her.”

     Whispers of shock and suspicion filled the room from the court goers.

     “She must be a spy for Darigan!”

     “There must be more of them!”

     “Then sentence her already! What are we waiting for?”

     The kougra raised her arm once again, and upon spotting the gavel, the courtroom gradually settled down.

     “What did she want from you, Gawain?” At her question, Elijah turned to Sylvana, and sadness filled his blue eyes, eyes that begged for forgiveness.

     “She wanted death to take her,” he answered quietly.

     The judge was silent as she processed his answer, her face devoid of emotions.

     “It was when lightning struck the fields that I saw her. She was barely standing and her fur soaked by the rain. When I approached, she collapsed, her body only staying together through sheer stubbornness.”

     “But she is a darigan.”

     Elijah nodded. “I am aware. But it was not just her wings and darkened fur that gave it away. She carried a large weapon, a halberd axe. It was the only thing that allowed her to stand. I know a Meridellian weapon when I see one, and upon seeing it, I knew her weapon was not of this land.”

     The judge paused before asking the next question, as if hesitating. “Gawain, sir, the Council understands that you and your wife sustained losses during the second Meridell-Darigan War?”

     “We did. We lost our son in the final battle of the war.”

     The judge nodded. “What did you do after she collapsed?”

     Elijah took in a deep breath. “I took her home to Arya.”

     Uneasy mumbles and murmurs arose in the hall, but not nearly as loud as the previous times. Sylvana watched as the court goers glanced to one another, mouths moving, asking questions. Though she couldn’t hear them clearly, she guessed that they were asking how someone who had experienced loss during the war could be so merciful to the main enemy. Even Sylvana herself had no idea why he showed such mercy to her. Noticing the unease in the room, Elijah glanced towards the crowd.

     “My son has been gone for years now. But my wife and I knew we could not let ourselves drown in grief.” He lifted his head towards Arya, and Sylvana could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “While we could never forget what happened, we could not let the past get in the way of our present actions.”

     “So what did you do, then?,” the kougra asked.

     “Seeing her in the rain, she showed signs of malnourishment and a fever. There was so much loss in the war, I couldn’t bear to see it claim another victim. So we took her in and helped her regain her strength.” In his mind, images of the weary kyrii flashed in Elijah’s mind from that stormy morning. Her ribs nearly protruded from under her skin, cuts tore all across her body, and her breaths were short and forced. If he and Arya had not taken her in, Elijah could only imagine what kind of fate she could have met.

     The kougra nodded. Just like the court goers, she had no idea how someone could show mercy to the enemy, one who could have taken their son away from them. She then stared at Sylvana, taking the kyrii’s rather muscular form, the scar that tore across her left arm, and her torn right ear. Imagining her as starved and weakened almost seem implausible, given her former status as a warrior.

     Watching the judge practically scan her sent an even heavier, crushing feeling on Sylvana’s shoulders. She was the enemy through and through, and even when in the face of her worst enemy, she was given mercy. Was it because of her inability to fight back or was it her giving into her own weakness?

     “It was tricky at first, getting her to recover,” Elijah continued. “She was so insistent on not eating, not regaining her strength, I nearly gave up on her. She was a stubborn child. But my wife...she refused to lose hope. Eventually, something in the girl clicked. She finally started to eat, and gradually, her strength returned to her.”

     The judge, surrounding magistrates, and court goers were silent.

     “When she finally grew strong enough, she offered to work on our farm. As you can tell, my wife and I aren’t as able-bodied as we used to be. We gladly accepted the help.”

     “But your voice suggests no fear,” the kougra interjected. “Were you not afraid of a potential betrayal for your kindness?”

     “Despite her color, she wants absolutely nothing to do with the Darigan Citadel. Just the sheer mention of it makes her flinch.”

     “She said this to you outright?”

     “No,” Elijah admitted, shaking his head. “If just the name of her homeland causes her pain, surely her past with it must be even more so. My wife and I both promised to never ask her.”

     The judge raised an eyebrow. “So how do you assume her feelings if you never asked her?”

     Elijah winced, something that Sylvana noticed. He looked conflicted, as if he had no right to speak of a girl’s past, something he had no idea about. But he quickly opened his eyes as murmurs and whispers arose again.

     “Just her reaction to the mention of that land was enough to understand. But...there was something else I noticed.”

     “What was it?”

     “The way she handled her weapon. The night I first saw it, it appeared as an ordinary halberd. But days later, while working in the fields, I saw her unravel a bundle she had hidden, and it was more than a singular object - it looked as if it was pieces of something. It was then I realized that they were pieces of her axe. Her weapon had been broken.”

     The zafara magistrate leaned forward, curious and suspicious. “What did you do next?”

     Elijah’s eyes went to the ground, almost laden with what looked like guilt. “I took the axe to Sir Aldrid. Stories tell that not only was he a talented fighter, he was also an expert blacksmith.”

     “And what compelled you to take it to him?” The kougra also leaned forward.

     “I thought…” His voice faded into silence as he glanced at Sylvana sorrowfully. “...that perhaps if the axe was mended, she would be relieved of the pain she had been carrying for so long. It must be such a heavy burden to bear, I wanted her to be relieved of it.”

     The crowd erupted once again in whispers and even several bouts of shouting, something both Elijah and Sylvana ignored. Both the ogrin and kyrii were only focused on one another, and soon, Sylvana’s felt sorrow in her chest that matched Elijah’s pale blue eyes.

     “Father…” Her voice was nearly inaudible.

     Both the zafara magistrate and the kougra judge leaned back in their chairs, realizing that Elijah had finished his testimony.

     “The Council of Meridell thanks you for sharing your story,” the kougra stated. “Your testimony is finished, correct?”

     Elijah nodded.

     “Very well. We shall continue.” The kougra’s eyes glanced at the table, where several open books and scrolls lay rampant across. One particular scroll she lifted close, her pale pink eyes scanning, until she placed it down and looked towards the bailiff.

     “Bring in the axe.”

     From the side doors, three knights came carrying a large bundle. A dark grey handle extended out, but only the top part of the weapon was concealed by the bundle. The knights then placed the bundle on the table before the judge and magistrates.

     “Remove the cover,” the zafara magistrate ordered.

     The knights did as ordered, slowly removing the tarp until the weapon was revealed in its entirety - a large halberd axe. Though the sheer size of the weapon was enough to draw gasps from the crowd, it was the blade that drew the most attention. The jagged blade was carved with runes unlike anything the judge had seen before. The axe in its entirety was large, surely much too large for even the strongest and most experienced of knights, let alone the young kyrii who once wielded it.

     But interestingly, the axe’s blade was practically shattered, as if Skarl himself had smashed it with his infamous mace. While the edge by itself was menacing by itself with its jagged edge, when placed back together next to its remaining pieces, it formed quite the imposing axe blade, one that paled in comparison to any size axe Skarl and his knights had.

     The judge looked at Sylvana, motioning to the blade. “This is your axe, correct?”

     In her heart, Sylvana didn’t want to acknowledge the judge’s question. She had wanted to get rid of it for so long, dispose of it so that she would never see it again. For Sylvana, it was a constant reminder of the one land she wanted nothing to do with, the one land she was born in, and the one place in all of Neopia she hated most.

     But against her feelings, she nodded.

To be continued…