Dar-Klite: Two-Hearts - 1. Chapter 1

Jack awoken to the sound of bells, the unfamiliar stench of salt, and bob and weave of the ship's bow.

“Alright ya lot!” a large man moved down into the hold, ringing a tiny bell of his own, “We’re coming into port! Get up! Get up!” around him the many hammocks began unloading their refugees, Jack himself included.

“Don’t forget any of yer belongins, we split anything you leave amongst the crew!” he chuckled, still ringing his damn bell. Luckily for Jack he had practically nothing, minus the coin to get him on the ship, just barely enough to escape his home. He ascended to the deck of the ship, and his jaw dropped slowly witnessing the beautiful city, Tallisk capital of Sapphire, a city nestled within the Blue Isle, a place forever in summer, a stark contrast to Jack's origins of cold, bitter winters. As other travellers made their way up, he moved forward to the front of the ship, still gazing at the tall white marble buildings, one in particular stood higher than the rest, shining with sunlight bouncing off it’s crystal top, projecting a spectrum of colors, and spinning as if a lighthouse powered by the sun itself.

I wish Peter could see this, so incredible….his demeanor began to change thinking of Peter's fate, how the White Cloaks had dragged him off beaten and bloodied. His eyes began to water at the trauma.

“Um, hey,” Jack's mind shifted back to reality, another boy looking around his own age of twenty-three, tapped his shoulder, “Sorry, never really travelled before, you’re the only one here even close to my age.” he laughed nervously, his hood was up, but face was visible, the stranger seemed just as much in the same boat as Jack. Broke.

“It’s no problem, better to travel with someone I suppose,” Jack held out his hand out of instinct, “I’m Jack, I’m new at this whole travel thing too.”

“Do I look that conspicuous?” He returned the gesture to Jack, “I’m Leo by the way, Like the province.”

“I doubt we blend in too well with the rest of the passengers.” Jack turned looking at the various vagabonds, migrant workers, and even a couple of summs writing near the various corners of the deck.”

“We could pass for summs,” Leo protested.

“If we had better clothes.” they both chuckled.

The ship pulled into port, after various maneuvers to avoid various smaller ships and canoes, and threw their bridges over the side at dock.

“So why did you come here?” Leo asked as they stepped off the ship, Jack was hesitant to really say.

“Just running I guess.”

“The Crown.”

“Oh, no, no, no...guess my own life?”

“Ah,” Leo nodded “Plenty of that in the world.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Got tired of the constant wars in Onyx Head. Wanted somewhere new, somewhere warm.”

“Wars?” They bobbed and weaved through the mass of people, Jack nearly running into a one of many women with baskets on their head, selling various fruits.

“Yeah, they have these constant border disputes with those wolf freaks in Vellaris, unfortunately, my village just so happens to land right on the border.” They broke out of the crowd, moving down a wide channel leading to a courtyard, adorned with a tall statue of a woman Jack didn't recognize.

“Can imagine it being a rough upbringing.”

“Quite.” he nodded, as they carved through the courtyard, the fountain began to profound the pair, At first believing it to be almost blood, but instead, the sweet smell of berries filled the air, as they moved closer. Wine…

“By gods! Their water is wine?” Leo ran to the edge of the fountain, spouts, along ornate stands on the side, flowed their own wine. Leo held his hand under one and drank from his hand. His face melted into pleasure. Jack followed suit, as the various notes of red berries, and juniper leaves dancing in his mouth. It was the best wine he had ever had. His home never had wine, save for various rituals.

“It tastes incredible,” Jack beamed, “We sure this is even allowed?” Jack scanned the plaza, various peasants and strangers filled their own hands and flasks.

“I’d say.” Leo remarked, before, taking a leather flask of his own out and filling it at the spout.

“You don’t have one?”

“Hmm?” Jack returned from his sightseeing.

“A flask. That trip was almost thirty days.”

“Kinda just scorounged here and there...I’m surprised I didn’t see you on board.”

Leo scratched his head, taking a swig from his flask before turning and notioning Jack to follow.

“I wasn’t really a legal passenger, I stowed away, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Not even sure where to go at this point. What was your plan?”

“Don’t have one.”

The two, stopped against a stone wall, as the sea of crowds churned around them.

“Suppose it would be better if we stuck together?” Leo offered, Jack simply nodded in agreement.

“I have no coin.” Jack grinned, Leo, nodded.

“Me neither.”

Leo moved closer next to Jack.

“Well, what's the plan then?”

“A roof I suppose, I’m sure we can find a-” Jack was cut off by the screams of a man just down the street and the shattering of glass.

“Please, there's been a mistake!” The voice of desperation flew above the gathering crowd, Leo and Jack winded their way through the crowd, a window between some heads opened to the scene. A bloodied man, stuck with glass across his body, a man towered above him accompanied by two guards, his majestic white coat, stained with fresh crimson.

“You dare lie in front of these people?” He kicked the peasant across the face, as the noble, bent down and ripped a pouch from the man's tunic, presenting it to the crowd, “This man is guilty for the crime of thievery! Thievery of magical tools at that.” The man tried to crawl away, towards Jack's direction, but seemed to hardly have the strength.

The noble drew his blade, “Let it be known to all of you, this is merely the fifth wretch caught stealing from the Magisterium! I sincerely hope it will be the last!” As the beaten man tried to lift himself, the swoosh of steel would see his head severed, the crowd, backing desperately to escape the projectile red, Jack wasn’t so lucky. His face had gotten the majority, missing Leo entirely.

The two guards picked up the corpse and dragged it through the streets towards the tall tower Jack had seen on the ship, a red path following. The nobleman would soon follow, but not before glancing at the bloodied Jack and giving a snarky grin.

“That is common here I wonder?” Leo struggled to ask, Jack merely shrugged before slowly turning and sprinting to the nearest wall and hurled. Leo followed and patted his back.

“Get it all out, get it all out.” Jack struggled to catch his breath, the stench of death seemed glued to him, and it infuriated his senses to no end.

After a few minutes Jack simply fell back to the ground, his back to the wall and merely a few feet from his waste.

“Gods what have I done?” Jack asked himself, “Why am I here?”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, not often you get to see beheadings, anyone else would have gotten sick like that,” Leo held a hand out, Jack grabbed it and pulled himself on, still feeling woozy, “Lets just, try and put that in the back of our heads, same place we’re going to put the idea of stealing.” Leo grinned a little, Jack merely gave him a look, as Leo helped him down one of the alley ways.

“Plan?”

“Survive I guess.”

Miles away to the north, across the cutting seas and the jade grass and trees, near the base of the mountains held a small hamlet, a cold and frozen town known as Melim, a town at the edge of Capricorn, at the base of the mountains that filled Gemini. It was Peter's home, at one point at least. Now it was his hell, he sat on his knees, his wrists chained upward, just barely dangling him off the ground, he wasn’t sure how long he had been in the temple basement, but he was sure of his eventual fate. The creaking of a door echoed down the hall, and light spilled into the dark prison, splitting between the shadows of the bars of his cell as boots marched towards him, a torch nearly blinding him as it came into view.

“Your time has come, The Paramount shall hear your plea.” The cell door opened and shadows came in, and unchained Peter, who could barely keep his eyes open from the torch light. They escorted him through the prison, the whispers and murmurs of other prisoners and victims filled the hall, jeering and teasing Peter. A man charged the bars, startling the entourage, “Little brownies gonna get stuck like a pig!”

“Enough!” a guard shoved a nightstick into the man's eyes through the bars, Peter wanted to cry, but held true, following the men, he looked at his hands and wrists in the torchlight, dried and cracked with some open sores on his arms. His confidence chipped. The entourage brought him into what appeared to be the entry room, two heavy wooden doors holding many whispers and conversations, all about him he was sure.

“Put these robes on.” one of the guards said, It was then Peter had realized he was naked, he did as he was told, a thin practically see through white gown. “When the doors open, you will follow us down the aisle to the altar, your case will be spoken to the Paramount. Your judgement will be passed after.” The guard nodded to the other two, and they went on either side of the gateway, before opening the doors, a pin drop silence falling upon the entire congregation. It was practically the entire town, all turned and staring at a barely naked, barely breathing Peter. Amongst the crowd his family sat at the altar near the paramount.

Peter swallowed, before being shoved forward, made to walk towards the Paramount, eyes digging into him, some head shaking in utter disgust. Peter arrived at the foot of the steps to the altar, where a long table had been set up in front of a stone statue of Helianos. The Paramount in the center, Count Leeris on his right, and a scribe on his left. The guard gripped Peter's shoulder and forced him to his knees.

“All rise for Paramount Lazus Krythem, twelfth member of the Magistrate Council, and Paramount for Capricorn.” The guard holding the boy down still as all but the paramount rose to attention.

“You may sit,” he gestured for the room, “Peter Honeyhall, only son to your father Charles Honeyhall is this correct?” Peter nodded, the guard went to smack the boy, but the magistrate simply held his hand up again. “You stand accused of browning by the county of Milem, a serious charge, and one that, unfortunately, holds execution as an acceptable means of punishment.” Peter's heart began to sink, he fought to not show it.

“Now Peter,” Lazus continued, “I’m going to ask you some questions, and we can work from there understand?” Peter nodded.

“Will you be honest with me Peter?” He simply nodded.

“Do you understand the ramifications of the charges against you today?”

“Yes si-” Peter's voice cracked and he coughed, specks of blood hitting his hand. Lazus began to write.

“Do you hold any knowledge on the whereabouts of Jack Leeris?” Peter glanced at the count who bore into Peter with eyes of dread and hate.

“No..” He could hear the sharp breath of the count.

“Lastly, are there any persons you wish to write should this court find you guilty of said charge?”

Peter shook his head.

“Very well. Lord Leeris, you may stand and speak on behalf of the people and county.” The count stood and cleared his throat.

“My son, he was corrupted by that man, twelve sols ago I walked in on him...forcing himself-”

“That's a-” Peter’s dry raspy voice was cut short by his handlers hand, nearly knocking his face straight into the stone floor.

“That's enough.” Lazus dismissed the brute, forcing him to, hesitantly, move to the side of the hall.

“Continue please, Count Leeris.”

“He forced himself upon my son,” tears began to well in the lord's eyes. “He was clawing his back and biting his neck even…” He looked down at the attentive judge.

“We ask you Paramount to extend the full power of the crown's justice upon him, he defiled my boy, it is only fitting for a beast such as him!”

He urged the count to sit, the lord accepted, his fists clenching in rage.

“Thank you for your testimony Count Leeris.” He took note down on his paper.

“Alright Charles Honeyhall?”

Peter turned to look at his young father hesitantly standing up, not seeming to look as angry as he looked before but more so melancholic, and conflicted.

“Yes Paramount?”

“Do you have any to say in defense or in tribute to your son's charges?”

Peter hardly wanted to lift his head up, feeling the shame and carving feeling of stares of condemnation. Despite this, his peripherals could make out his father's anxiety.

He simply sat back down.

Peter broke.

“Very well,” a simple dash with his pen across his page, “Now Peter?”

“What?” Peter began to choke, his eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“As a defendant you hold the right to call upon anyone in the room to testify on your behalf of your character. The whole town has been gathered.” the quietest whispers could be heard amongst the attendees, but one voice in particular, moreso, a feeling, turned his head slightly towards the left, in front of the crowd along the side of the temple, a man in a hood in between them, no one seemed to notice despite him standing in front of some of the townsfolk's view.

The stranger's lips formed a slight smile, urging Peter to form one of his own.

“Peter, please call forth a witness or I shall move on with this trial.”

“Why?” His sandpaper-like throat coughed between what sobs his body could produce.

“Pardon?”

“Why should I bother? You made up your mind-”

“I bid for his release milord!” The voice of Peter's voice jolted him from melancholy and a teary eyed Jennifer stood, clutching his old blanket when he was a baby.

“He is a good man-”

“Jennifer what are you-” she shook off her husband's grip and continued.

“He was training to become one of your militia! Ready to die for his lord surely he can be spared the flame!”

“Please sit down ma’am, I will not be so polite next time.” The paramount gleamed at the woman, who defeatedly, sat back down.

“Does the accused have anything further to say?” Peter took a deep breath knowing and struggled to stand, the vanguard moved to apprehend before the Paramount, once again, simply raised his palm.

“I ask for judgement by the old gods lord Paramount.” he coughed, nearly sending him flat forward. The crowd began to stir amongst whispers and hushed tones, the Paramount slamming his palm into the table in the attempt to maintain order.

“Enough! Enough!” Count Leeris stood “He has held enough of the court's time, and now he demands a second trial!”

“The old gods judge different Leeris you should know this, now by order of the Magisterium remain silent for the remainder of this trial or I will throw you in the same cage as him and have it dealt with all around.” The count stubbornly sat. “It is clear to the court Honeyhall, after everything discussed, and amidst the disappearance of Lord Leeris with no way of finding him. I’m afraid this all boils down to you and your doings. It is, however, also clear your best interest is not shown by the majority of your peers, and in light of this I allow you to be judged by the gods of old. Your trial will begin at dawn, please escort the tribute to his family's home.”

The vanguard began immediately, guards surrounding the frail boy and escorting him out of a still silent hall, the eyes of the townsfolk piercing into Peter's heart. His death was earmarked but delayed, a delay Peter would allow, if not to see his family one last time.

They would waste no time, locking Peter away in his room, the sounds of chains being put onto his door, and the two guards posted outside his house would happen before Peter could even sit down on his bed. His soft, and warm bed, it had felt like months since he had felt such comfort, since he had felt the graze of the warm fire in his wood stove. His stove was already burning before he had come in, giving Peter some comfort in his parents having at least a little care for him. Knock knock.

“Peter? It’s mommy, are you okay?” Peter could still hear the sobs under her breath.

“Yeah, I’m-I’m okay mom,” he moved a little closer to the door, “You can come in can’t you?”

“The guards won’t let us, Count Leeris’ orders. No one can see you until tomorrow.” Peter bit his lip, one of his only motives for agreeing to an elongated death sentence gone.

“But, we can talk like this, the guard captain said.”

“Captain Sooyer?” Peter lit up just a little, the name of his teacher bringing him to his short, long days as a swordsman.

“Yes! That's him, that's the one, he also said he wanted you to know that, he knows you’ll survive tomorrow. He seemed pretty confident.” She sniffled. Peter smiled a little, for the first time in a while creating a slight whining pain along his lips.

“That sounds like him...Is father out there?”

“Your father is...taking some time...Peter?”

“Mom?” Peter slid down to the floor, his back against the door.

“Did you...do that to that boy?...Did you force yourself upon him?” Peter wanted to explain it, wanted to break down how it wasn’t forced how it was a mutual feeling. At least to Peter it was a mutual feeling, a feeling he felt even up to that point. Even when he ran away.

“I...It’s not what you think.”

“What am I supposed to think, Peter?”

“I want you to think about me before today okay mom? I don’t want you to think about what I did, just...remember me okay? Can you do that Mom?” There was pause minus the quiet sobbing, the feeling of scratching by Peter's hand turned out to be his mother's index and middle finger. Peter met his fingers with hers.

“As long as you promise to survive tomorrow.”

Peter silently nodded, before resting his eyes.