Trials and Tribulations

My eyelids slowly opened and closed, giving me an unfocused, fuzzy vision of where I was. My head was splitting, like a tree struck by lightning. I felt how a drunkard the morning after looked. The light, was blinding; made it hard to see, or think. I squinted as the rest of my senses focused in. My back was cold, and sore beyond belief, against something hard. My legs hurt. My arms hurt. My whole body was aching. The light started to dim to my eyes, as I realized it wasn't so bright after all. I looked down to see my hands, finding the source of their pain. The skin was broken and torn at the knuckles, healed just enough for some scabs. They were also shackled, and tied up by a grapple rope at the wrist. I followed their lengths that led up to and through a ring on the ceiling and back down, to a wooden, metal-lined, barred wall.

Where in the hels am I? Was this the doing of those restless elves Tarwyn told me about?

My head felt as though it was firewood after being split by an axe. Between that, and the mental fog, I couldn't remember anything, not what I ate or did yesterday, or what I must've dreamt about. I saw a barred window in the wall above me, and a bed to my left, letting me realize I was sitting on the floor. I was wearing plain, tan linen pants and a shirt I didn't own. My boots, cloak, bow, armor, and clothes were gone.

Was I kidnapped? Where's the girl? I need to get up.

I tried to lift myself up, but my body was exhausted, and far too sore to do anything right now.

Fuck.

I heard two sets of footsteps, vaguely familiar. The fact I could hear them told me they wanted their presence to be known.

I started wrapping my wrist and hands with the chain, preparing to fight if I absolutely had to. I waited, planning for the worst, ready for something even worse than that.

Of all people, Tarwyn stepped into view from the right of the bars. His head was covered in bandages, his hair messy, his clothes the lightest I've seen him wear. I could see his torso was bandaged up.

"You're finally awake." He stood like I had something to say or confess.

The other person didn't step out, though I knew their scent.

"Why am I in here? What's going on? Did I do something?"

"Did you do something?" He gestured to himself. "Well for starters you nearly killed me, Inowyn, Kalyn, Laryn who's just recently left the critical stage, the girl, and several other guards."

"What?! What the fuck are you talking about? You know me, don't you?"

"Wish I could say."

"Brother!" A whisper hissed at him.

"What?!"

"Inowyn? Is that you?"

She slowly stepped into view. She was also bandaged up, though she looked less injured, but more exhausted. "Hi…" She waved nervously.

"Is what he said true?"

She nodded, barely holding eye contact.

"You really don't remember anything? Not even a little bit?" Tarwyn asked incredulously.

"Is the girl okay? D-did I…" Uncontrollable tears pushed their way up.

"She's okay," he answered. "She was the least injured, but she's not exactly the most healthy."

"Tell me everything. Every detail. Please."

"First…" he spoke in an incredibly serious tone, "you need to tell us everything you can remember."

I took a breath, partially to let myself think. "I think… I remember tree striding. I think she was there." Suddenly some things came to me. "Kalyn, and Laryn too. I felt a… a—prick—in my neck. I think I succeeded right?"

"Yes, that's all accurate. What do you mean a prick?" he asked.

"I don't know. I… I think I was nervous; just feeling things."

"Ladon," Inowyn finally spoke.

"Yes?"

"We think you were poisoned."

"What?"

"After you succeeded, you kind of… got all weird, like you were sick, and you passed out. Bile and blood came out of your mouth. Then suddenly, you woke up, in a rage, attacking everyone. We tried to restrain you but it didn't work. Even the reinforcements struggled."

"..."

"You beat the ever evil hels out of all of us, me especially," Tarwyn interrupted. "We were like pieces of parchment against you. throwing us around and punching us multiple meters away."

I couldn't respond.

"You… uhm," Inowyn continued. "You… choked the girl. If it wasn't for Tarwyn, she would've died."

I immediately stood up as if all the constant pain wasn't there. "What do you mean. I-I wouldn't! I'd never do that!" Suddenly a flash, less than heartbeat, of the girl's eyes, my hand around her neck. "...I'd never…"

"Well you did," Tarwyn answered, as cold as could be.

"Why would I… I couldn't have…"

"We think it was the poison," Inowyn said.

"How would I have gotten poisoned?"

"Prewana thought it had something to do with what you ate. But that prick… it may be a clue."

"How many poisons can make a person do what I did?"

"I don't know. Prewana's been investigating; hopefully something will turn up soon."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"About this time yesterday," Tarwyn answered.

"There's something else you should know, Ladon," Inowyn said.

"Oh gods. What is it?"

"You have a trial tonight. At Trewari's hall. Unless Prewana finds something, it's really not in your favor. Especially since, as a guest, you attacked me and Tarwyn, let alone the guards. They wouldn't care too much about the girl."

"Fuck."

"If it means anything, I believe you're innocent," she said, her eyebrows raised with a worried, sad look, trying to console.

"I believe that regardless of the truth, you did what you did," Trawyn said.

Can't say I could expect much else.

"Thank you for your honesty, both of you."

I can't believe this is happening.

"I'll tell Prewana about the prick; see if maybe she can find anything on that platform," Inowyn said.

I could tell they were about to leave. "Wait. Can I see her? The girl I mean."

"I doubt she wants to see you," Tarwyn said, the words full of contempt.

Inowyn threw her hands down. "Tarwyn!"

"What?! You expect to just forgive him?! Like that?!"

"I expect you to give some respect! He just found out he tried to kill his friends, and the girl!"

"How'd you forgive him then? Hmm? It's so easy, right?"

"I…" She slowed down. "... I never said you have to forgive him. Gods! Why are you always like this, Tarwyn! Can you not stir arguments for a day?!"

I receded to my awkward silence.

"Well how do you expect me to act?! Just yesterday he was a friend, and then all of a sudden he tried to kill everyone! He…" he started looking vulnerable, maybe even sad, "he tried to kill you…"

"Tarwyn…"

"Let's just go. We need to prepare." He looked at me, both holding disgust, and guilt in his expression.

Inowyn looked at me. "I'm sorry. You can't leave your cell—not until the trial."

"What were they going to do if I didn't wake up?"

"The trial would go on without you."

"..."

"We better get going, Ladon. We'll see you tonight."

"Alright. Thank you for telling me all this," I said futilely.

She smiled, half consolation, half trying to be light.

They walked away.

Fuck! What in the hels am I supposed to do? My only defense is what I know. They're all just going to think I'm a traitor. That's how it always goes. Gods! Just when I thought things would get better! I should've expected something like this…

I layed on my hard wooden bed, one arm over my forehead. "Nothing's ever over." I repeated to myself over and over.

Hours passed in silence. I tried to take a nap, to have more energy for tonight, but, unlike the night, it never came. I had nothing to do, and everything to think about. It was hard not to be angry; to be frustrated.

I'll need to keep myself calm during the trial. If I let myself outburst, it'll only make things worse for me.

Heavy steps thumped from the right, gaining volume the more they impacted. Before long, a tall, wide mountain of an elf entered my view from the right. I had no clue elves could have that body type. He was covered in leaf-patterned armor. His helmet had a visor blocking sight of all but his serious white eyes. Without speaking, he grabbed the end of the rope and chain from tha side, then tugged, forcing me to my feet, my arms forced to stay high.

His voice exited his helmet, low, almost resonant. "Trial time. Walk to the gate."

I followed his command.

"Through the bars."

"What?"

"You're arms."

I put my arms through. He unshackled and untied my wrists, then pulled their chains and rope through the ring, then through the bars. He opened the gate.

"I'm going to restrain you again. Don't plan on any sudden movements."

I walked out of my cell slowly.

He shackled and tied my wrists again, holding onto the chain and rope. He shoved me forward.

I walked down the hall with him staying close behind. Eventually the hall led to a spiral staircase, leading up to another hall, the walls lined with the same bars. I only saw one prisoner here: a dark elf, with long bluish-silver hair draped over his face. He didn't make any motion at the sounds of mine. Not long after, we took a right turn and a door was in sight. The giant guard walked past me, bumping me into the wall. When we reached the door, he hammered it with the butt of his fist. It opened outward, letting the missing sunlight to beam in, giving me sight to the outdoors. As the guard pulled me out, I saw several fully-equipped guards on either side, funneling me straight to Trewari's hall, the same building where I met Borowyn and saw all those spirits. We were far off to the side of it, just barely in view. Behind the parallel crowd of guards were many, many elves, shouting, yelling, spitting all sorts of elven words, with the occasional human, or halfy being thrown at my ears. It seemed the guards were here to protect me from them, and them from me. I never thought this city could get so riled up. The peace and pleasentry was now anger and noise.

They're no different from humans. Pleasantries and prejudices, always a pair. I let out a small chuckle to myself. I sound like Abraxas. Gods, I miss him; miss home.

When we made it to the building, the doubledoor opened outward on its own, a gust of cold wind blowing through, waking up whatever part of me that remained tired. The big guard shoved me once more, making me enter the building. I walked through the center path, the large, bisected crowds of elven citizens eyeing me every step. Surprisingly, I caught the glances of two who didn't hold any anger or strife in their eyes that everyone else had. Past them, to the right, stood the damaged and bandaged-up Inowyn and Tarwyn. Tarwyn was wearing seasonally-colored leafen armor, no doubt ceremonial as it had far too much of an intricate design for function. Inowyn was in a green dress appearing like a flower before the bloom on the bottom. A silk-like, semi-transparent, veil-like cape that wrapped over her arm, around her neck, pinned in the middle to not let it be too loose. They both looked uncomfortable.

Are these their official clothes?

On the opposite side to them, in the same open space, stood an old elven man, wearing an almost form-fitting, dark brown robe, inlaid with intricate golden lines, drawing a picture of the tree of life. He had quite the slouch, whatever of his hair that was left, hung down over his shoulders. He looked a little younger than Borowyn, though I could never know the exact difference. He looked like grumpiness was his state of being. Borowyn, like all the other times I saw him, sat on his chair, gripping his long staff with his right. He wore the most serious face I've ever seen him wear. Animal spirits littered the great hall we were in, some resting on the windowsills, others standing about, watching me. I couldn't find Prewana anywhere.

I stopped in the center of the open space, equidistant between the old elf and the siblings.

"You still see them?" Borowyn asked, hoarse and old.

"Yes."

"Interesting… Quite interesting… Let's begin the trial."

He planted his staff down, letting everyone know to not add their voice unless told to. "So…I was told in great detail what you did. For the sake of making sure everyone here knows it the same as me, I shall recount it. You were tree striding. My granddaughter, grandson, Prewana, Kalyn, Laryn, and the girl were there, correct?"

"Yes."

"You succeeded, correct?"

"Yes."

"Very good, very good. Then when everyone was busy congratulating you, you passed out, correct?"

"Yes."

"After that, you went into a rage, attacking everyone who trusted you, as well as Kalyn and Laryn. Inowyn sent her rabbit to gain reinforcements to incapacitate or restrain you, and everyone lost, until you passed out, correct?"

"So I've been told."

The old man to my left, lifted his left eyebrow a tad. "Interesting you say that. Do you deny it? Do you not believe you did it?"

"No. I do not deny it."

The old elf's eyes lit up. "Ha! He said it right there, Trewari Borowyn. He doesn't deny that he assaulted Tjalin Tarwyn, Tjali Inowyn, and the guards. I believe it is already a settled matter, waiting for nothing save his punishment."

"Don't be so hasty, Alfraed," Borowyn said. "There's more to be unraveled yet. Tarwyn, my grandson, do you deny that Ladon assaulted you?"

"No, grandfather, I don't."

"Inowyn, my granddaughter, do you deny that Ladon assaulted you."

"...No… But, I do not believe he did it consciously."

"Interesting you'd say that. Expound, if you could."

"He mentioned something this morning, when Tarwyn and I visited his cell. He felt a prick in the back of the neck, before he began his stride. After he succeeded, he was acting strange, like he was badly sick and exhausted, almost appearing as though he had a fever. When he passed out, bile and blood exited his mouth. Prewana was certain he was poisoned. She was going to take him into her study to figure it out right before he attacked."

"What kind of poison could make someone violent like that, Tjali?" Alfraed asked. "In all my years, I've certainly never heard of one."

"I… don't know."

"And is there any proof of this poison you speak of, or what pricked him?"

"N-no…"

"Then how are we to believe it wasn't an elaborate ruse, after a long con to gain your trust, to have an opportunity to kill you, and your brother?"

"He'd never do that!" she shouted. "I-it has to be a poison."

"It's not exactly possible for a needle to force-feed a beserker mushroom to a person, unless of course that's what you're implying, Tjali Inowyn, because I simply can not fathom how any poison, unkown to the oldest intelligent species on Adthera, could have done it, let alone exist."

"..."

She was beat. I could sense her urge to respond; to retort, despite having nothing to retort with.

"Ladon," Borowyn continued, "What do you say, about all of this?

"All I know is, I felt the prick. I felt sick; terribly sick, and I tried to hide it, but I passed out. I don't recall anything after, aside from a couple flashes, to know I did anything. I know, I'd never consciously harm anyone here."

"Then where's your proof, demidragon?" Alfraed asked.

"I—"

"How much of you is dragon anyway? You had two human parents, and one dragon soul, granted that soul is quite substantial indeed, but even then, that'd only make you a third dragon and two-thirds human."

"..."

"If my arithmetic is right, that'd mean you're majority human, and what do humans do?"

"Enlighten me," I said, in a cold, dull tone.

"Abuse, deceive, steal, judge, dismantle, destroy, and eradicate."

"And an elf never has? A dragon never has? Are you not judging me right now?"

"Who ever said I was judging you? I was just merely making an observation on your bloodline."

My patience was thinning like his hair. I looked back to the bisected crowd, to find many scowls and murmurs. They may as well have been standing behind him.

I turned back to Borowyn. "Look. I'd never do it. Never.

"And yet here we are," Alfraed responded.

"Are you done antagonizing me, Alfraed?"

"Why? Are you getting angry? You lost your temper too, when you fought Tjalin Tarwyn in a trial by combat did you not?"

I clenched my jaw.

"From what I've heard, you have quite the temper, and given your demidragon attributes, I could only imagine the kind of damage that temper could lead you to do; the people it'd lead you to hurt."

"ENOUGH!" I shouted. "I didn't do it!"

"Ha! There it is, right in front of us!"

I took one step toward him before the chain and rope reminded me to stay put.

"A prime example!"

I clenched my fists, trying to calm myself.

The crowd of elves started speaking amongst themselves louder and louder. I could only pick out so much from the ocean of noise, but none of it sounded good.

Borowyn's staff planted once more. "Enough! Silence, all!"

Everyone did just so.

"Alfraed, I believe that is enough antagonizing. You've made your point. Ladon." His eyes turned to me. "Do you have any proof at all, beyond your word; the word of one who broke our trust, that you did not consciously try to kill the Tjalin, and Tjali; the future Trewari and Gythya; my grandson, and my granddaughter?"

I exhaled deeply. "No. I don't."

"Then, unfortunately for you—"

The front door burst open behind me with a bang, disrupting Borowyn and distracting everyone's attention. I turned to see Prewana in the doorway, holding my right boot.

"Ah, the final perspective on the matter. Prewana, what have you brought?"

She walked down the aisle. "I've come bringing evidence."

"A boot is your evidence?" Alfraed asked incredulously.

"No, not the boot." she flipped it upside down. Pulling an almost impossibly thin, dark-brown, wooden needle, broken in half, horizontally embedded in the bottom of it. "This."

"Go on," Borowyn commanded, intrigued.

"I spent all night, and all day looking for clues, for evidence to what poisoned him. I knew he was poisoned; I just needed more than just bile and blood to figure it out. I found nothing in his food from the previous night. Earlier today, Inowyn told me he felt a prick in the back of his neck, so I searched the area for needles to find nothing, until of course, I checked his clothes. He must've stomped on it at some point."

"I see," Borowyn responded.

"But there's no poison that could've done it." Alfraed countered. "That needle means nothing."

"Thought the same thing, until I looked into it in my study. I was having a hard time figuring anything out, until I realized something. This needle is made of birch."

"What's your point?" Alfraed asked.

"Birch is not this dark. Not nearly. Definitely doesn't hold the same scent either. And that's when it hit me. It's not a poison at all. I was looking for the wrong kind of thing. Bile, blood, shortly passing out—these were all the unfortunate common side effects of the beserker extract; an extract that is ten times as potent as the mushroom; an extract we haven't used since the last war against the humans, in our most desprate hours, to trick them into fighting each other, and to force the most weakened of our own to fight."

"T-that's preposterous!" Alfraed shouted. "There is no more of the beserker extract left! The last of it was eradicated or lost after that war. It's been banned ever since. Even if it did still exist, how would anybody get it?"

"There are still some who believe the dark market exists."

"It was destroyed, along with the Shadow's Grasp, when the Great Cull happened."

"There are some who believe they continue to exist as well," Prewana countered. "Who else would use a needle like this, coated in the beserker extract, and never get seen or caught by any highly trained Álfari, including Tjalin Tarwyn himself?"

"W-well, even if they did still exist—"

"To top it all off, I took a little stop on my way here," she interrupted. "I stopped by the fengsel after Ladon already left it and entered this hall. I talked with the prisoner."

"Yes yes we all know of him. Get to your point."

I didn't really.

"I asked him, in exchange for some sweets, if he knew whether or not the Shadow's Grasp was still around, as well as the dark market."

"And?" Borowyn asked.

"His word could be lies or truth, considering his past line of work, so take it as you may, but he said, 'Oh, it's very real.' I'm inclined to believe him, because if anyone would know, it'd be him."

"I see."

"L-like you said, it could just be lies, baked to terror our city's people!" Alfraed said.

"Yes, but let's consider, hypothetically, they're still around. Someone would've had to hire the one who used the needle, whatever the price may have been. They used the beserker extract to make Ladon attack everyone around him. Even without the dark market or Shadow's Grasp, someone set Ladon up, to ruin his reputation in everyone's eyes, to get him killed, or banished."

"W-why would anyone do that?" Alfraed asked.

"Because he's two thirds human, and that very same person, who is majority human, met Tré af Líf, spoke with her, and may wind up being her champion in the future. Yes, I wonder as well." She turned her gaze to stare Alfraed in the eyes. "Why would someone do that?"

"Are you seriously implying— That's preposterous! I'd never stoop so low as to hire a member of the Shadow's Grasp!"

"Who said you did?" Tarwyn asked, out of nowhere.

"What?"

Tarwyn stepped toward the middle, by me. "Weren't you the one who denied their very existence?"

"Y-yes."

"Then why would you be afraid of her implications?"

"I-I'm not— How dare you insult m—"

"That is enough!" Borowyn planted his staff once more, almost breaking his voice with his shout.

Tarwyn halted as Alfraed shrunk.

"Alfraed."

"Y-yes, Trewari?"

"We have been friends and allies for a long time, have we not?"

"Many centuries, Trewari, yes."

"I've given you my trust many times, have I not?"

"O-of course."

"Now I ask you, from one friend to another, did you hire an assassin of the Shadow's Grasp, to force Ladon into a beserker rage, nearly killing my granddaugher and grandson just to ruin his reputation? Did your actions nearly wipe out my bloodline; the last of my family?"

"I-I…"

"Alfraed."

"I— Are you doubting the trust we shared for centuries Borowyn? Our bond?

"Do not use that name. Answer my question."

Alfraed was sweating, his jagged, paper-thin ears low to the back. "I…"

"Answer me, Alfraed."

Even if I wasn't staring, I'd still be able to tell easily how accelerated his breath was. I could practically hear his heartbeat."

"Alfraed!" He planted his staff once more.

Alfraed eyes darted around, as if he feared for his life. I heard a breath, above me, in the rafters. Without a moment's hesitation I looked up, seeing the black, cloaked figure of someone. I couldn't make out a face—just their white eyes.

"Above!!!" I pointed at it.

The black figure shifted, and instantly I felt a slight difference of pressure in the air, almost unnoticable even by my ears. My body shifted back instinctively, just a light thunk at the floor revealed a needle to me. Brambles came into my view, up high, heading toward the figure. When the brambles reached, the figure dissipated into a black, smoke-like nothingness.

They're gone, only the falling shadow left to let us know it was ever there. Screams and shrieks filled the room.

"Alfraed's dead!" I heared Prewana shout.

I turned to Alfraed, to see Prewana pulling a needle out of his neck.

"Fuck." I looked around the room, to find any more figures. There weren't.

I wanted to move, to go to Inowyn, or Tarwyn, to protect them, but the big guard still held tightly to my chain and rope. His resolve never changed.

I swear to all the gods, if the girl got hurt during all this, I'll—

Borowyn's staff planted onto the ground several times. The chaotic scramble of everyone ceased. A wall of guards stood in front of Borowyn and around his grandchildren.

The now-silent crowd was somehow even more silent.

"Considering what just took place, for all our safety, we'll continue this tomorrow, at midday."

A pair of guards took Alfraed's body away. Prewana followed beside them.

The big guard tugged, less harshly than all the previous times. He led me out the building, never letting me speak to anyone. Similar to last time, I was escorted by walls of guards. Even the crowd outside was silent. Many different faces held many different opinions behind them. I felt an odd sense of relief, though I could hardly say it made me feel better. A guard rushed out of the fengsel, the thick door already opened. He ran past us, straight to Trewari's hall.

"What was that about?" I asked, though I figured what the answer would be.

"..."

"Illuminating."

We entered the fengsel, took a turn, and immediately saw an open gate in the middle of the hallway. We kept walking forward. Whoever that prisoner was, he was long gone now, the cell left barren and alone, with only a wrapper left on the ground. We walked past it, down the spiral staircase, and back to my cell. This time, he left the length of the chain and rope out the gate, and not through the ring. Enough slack was given for me to walk the space of my cell. It had long since been dark, so I just laid in my uncomfortable bed for the night.