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The New Kid, part two
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The New Kid, part two |
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LadySofia Member
since 2000-05-16
Posts 238FL., USA 
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Beneath the layers of the mortal city, the round chamber's stone walls had been disinfected and prepared for the meeting of the Society. Red banners hanging behind him above the entrance were the only decoration. The consulate were seated in white, egg-shaped chairs around the room. Only one sat in the rear near him. He was considered unclean to even look at, but Jason knew one would always break taboo and stare with loathing or pity. The cloaks of the consulate were brilliant to behold; most were orange, some were blue or yellow. Only one wore gold with no hood. The one beside him was the only councilor in red. The lipless shade coninued his courtly monotone in his hissing accent. "Let the accussed risse for hiss chargesss." The shade hovered away from the podium, growling as it often did when no signals were being sent to it. It was so hard for Jason to stand. With a creak of his seat he attempted to rise again, but his vision began to blur and his legs buckled. He was so used to being a human that the change in skins had rendered his muscles useless. Or was it fear? He caught a swirl of red in the corner of his yellow eyes. The red cloak would aid him, again. The red cloak always helped those in need, and as a former mortal himself the lowest magi could see things in a way the others of the Society could not. Jason took the red cloak's arm and rose unsteadily, his legs threatening to buckle from beneath him. Under the hood covering the mangled Joktarian face the red cloak had somber eyes; he wouldn't help him. Now Jason was alone in the Council. The High Magi slowly ambled before the Council and took the marbled steps to the podium, his golden robes blinding against the backdrop of the gray stone. He eyed the throng with his distinct glowing orange eyes, then cleared his throat and spat on the floor. "Accused, did you or did you not continue to live when you should have passed on to the higher consciousness?" He asked, his thin grey lips never moving. Jason's own lip trembled. "Yes, my magi." "Do you understand the punishment for ignoring the calling to pass?" "Yes, my magi." Jason's eyes strayed to the stone behind the High Magi. The red blade, red with Joktar blood, hung ominousy above the magi's knobby green head. All he needed to do was raise his arm and run Jason through, expressionless, a trademark of the Joktar Society. Jason had seen too many sent into in searing agony when the blade was not tempered properly. He hoped for mercy, but he also hoped the blade was hot enough to severe his soul from his flesh without incident. One of those cloaked in blue spoke out. "Two more have asked for admittance since his mistake. He was seen defying death. We shouldn't give sanctum for all who knock on our door." Many of the others in the circle nod assent. The High Magi blinked, parting his lips as if to speak, but is interrupted by a councilor in orange. It is Ertum, the foul one. "Refusing to pass is one thing. Bringing humans to our sanctuary is another matter entirely. This mammal will bring death to us all." The High Magi nodded. "We cannot be known by the masses of mortals."-he pointed toward the ceiling, then pointed at Jason and continued-"You have broken code by defying two laws of Society. The penalty is mortal death." The Society all clapped once in favor. Not one refrained or hesitated. His death warrant had been signed. "The decision is final. You will be severed on the 'morrow. You will not recieve anyone beforehand. If there is nothing further to add, this session is now closed." He looked about, patient, waiting. Jason pleaded with the red cloak, his telepathic message jumbled but clear: save me from myself. The red cloak turned to look at him in curiosity, but said nothing. He knew his place. "We salute the Jok." The High Magi quickly dropped to all fours and ladled his spit with his long, sticky tongue. # The damp cell walls were closing in. He could feel the moisture seeping into his pores. Tomorrow he would die. Was it all worth it? Should he have gotten his revenge in another fashion? He stood and walked to the door, his claws clicking against the stone floor. Through the bars he could see down the corridor. No one. If he left now he might make it. The door was still open. No one had locked it as they had incarcerated him, nor when they came to give him his last meal of mushed worms. The slimey food sat on the floor untouched in the bowl he had been proffered. Should he leave now, before it is too late? Or should he continue to wait for his death? He had asked himself these questions too many times over the years; he must have etched them into his fate. He scratched the sore on his forehead where the bullet had gone through, wondering idly if he would see his brother and friend when he passed. With a creaking of iron gates someone enters at the end of the corridor. [This message has been edited by LadySofia (edited 12-04-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 Amanda Piatt - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Oh I like this...can't wait for more!  |
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