JUDGENENT'S MERCY

Azarel sat silently on the high throne, his eyes fixed on Lucian. The hall, once buzzing with whispers, fell into hushed stillness. The magical whip, glowing faintly in the judge's hand, remained suspended in the air. But then, Azarel stood slowly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Lucian is a really good and loyal person," Azarel said clearly, his tone resonating in every corner of the punishment hall. "He is my protector. He has always protected me, stood by me in times I didn't even understand myself. So nothing should happen to him."

The judge hesitated, lowering the whip.

"No further punishment," Azarel continued. "Lucian is a good person."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some guards looked uncertain. Azarath's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening, but she said nothing.

Just then, Evelyn burst into the hall. She had waited long enough, and now, with tears in her eyes and purpose in her heart, she rushed to Lucian. His back was bleeding, his body trembling, but he was still conscious. Gently, she supported him, her arms around his waist, guiding him out of the hall with trembling care. No one stopped her.

All eyes now turned to Velma.

Azarel's gaze settled on her. "And you," he said, his voice soft but firm, "what do we do with you, human?"

Velma opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but the words caught in her throat. She had faced monsters and betrayals, but this—being judged by the man she loved who didn't even remember her—was the most painful of all.

Azarel looked at her, deeply. There was still something about her. A scent, a feeling, a warmth he couldn't place. It pulled at him in ways he couldn't explain.

"We will send you back to the human world," he said finally. "In two days."

There was a silence.

"For Lucian to have protected you," he added, his voice thoughtful, almost distant, "you must be a really special gem and a good person. So we will send you back to the human world."

Velma could hardly believe what she was hearing. She swayed where she stood, the wave of relief nearly overwhelming her. But she didn't cry. Not yet.

From the side, Zamiel stepped forward, anger flashing in his eyes. "You're letting her go? Are you serious, brother? She's a human. She doesn't belong here. She knows too much. She must be killed!"

Azarath quickly backed him. "He's right. She's a threat."

But Azarel turned to them slowly. His gaze hardened.

"No."

The single word silenced the room.

He looked directly at Azarath. "Firstly, we have to make sure what the human is saying is true. If you and my brother are having a relationship..."

Azarath's eyes widened. "She's lying!"

"We will have to find that out," Azarel said coldly. "But for now, everybody must remain alive. That is my final judgment."

There was no room for argument in his voice.

Velma stood quietly, her heart thudding. She had survived. Lucian had survived. For now.

But the sorrow weighed heavy in her chest.

Because after everything, after all she had done and said… Azarel still didn't remember her.

And that hurt more than anything else.