Jazmee27 
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“Apologies, Felix,” the doctor told me, “but I’ve got a full load of cases. No end of patients walking through my door, and a few house calls.” But he did tell me there was someone who might be able to help. “If you can find him, he’s a Healer.” Nobody knew where to begin to look, as none in this area had seen this mysterious man. Thanking the doctor for his help, I turned and started walking. Where, I didn’t know. My feet just kept moving onward, and I had no heart to stop them. Maybe it was the Protector, guiding my steps in order to save a child’s life. I certainly hoped so.
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Reply #1421. Jul 01 12, 9:42 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
Back home, Mother was doing the best she could to bathe the boy’s injuries. He was completely dehydrated by now, and suffering from a raging fever. She held him while she poured sips of water down his parched throat, and sat with him as he slept. Occasionally, she rose to fetch more cool cloths to place on the reddest areas. She listened to his tortured breathing, and prayed constantly that he not succumb to his weakened condition and die. He was just so young, she told me later, and even though she didn’t know the child, her heart went out to him.
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Reply #1422. Jul 01 12, 9:44 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
I walked for about two days or so in search of someone who could help. I pushed on even after I began to tire. “That little boy is going to die if I can’t find help soon,” I kept repeating over and over.
Finally, I came to a strange little building set back from the road. There was no sign, no lettering of any kind, but somehow I knew I’d arrived. There was a tiny gate, and it squeaked as I pushed it open. As soon as I reached the other side, the door of the building opened and a kind-faced young man came out. “Come in,” he said, smiling real big, “you must be tired.”
“I am, sir, but I need to head back home so I can—“ The man cut me off with a hand gesture, and motioned me to sit down on a comfortable-looking chair in the middle of the room. “But I—“ I began again, and again was cut off by a silencing gesture.
“You need to rest,” he told me, “and when you leave I’ll go with you.” I was about to voice a protest, but he held up a hand. “Your mother will tend to him until we return,” he said, “and the boy will recover.” From then on, I just stared at him. Who was this man, that he knew so much?
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Reply #1423. Jul 01 12, 9:45 AM
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Jazmee27
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After I’d sat and rested for a bit, he gave me a cup of water and some round pills. “These will give you energy for the return journey,” he explained. While I drained the cup and swallowed the medicine, he packed a small bag with supplies he’d need. It looked like he was some sort of doctor, though I’d never known one quite like him.
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Reply #1424. Jul 01 12, 9:46 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
Somehow, the trip back home didn’t take nearly as long as the journey out, and I was relieved to find Mother and the boy in the hut right where I’d left them. “The fever’s a little lower each day,” she told me with a tired smile, “and his breathing’s a bit easier.”
“You’ve done a good job, Mrs. Katreynso . I jumped, startled, for I’d not given him my last name. Was there no end to what this guy knew about us? About people? As if hearing my mental monologue, he smiled at me. “It’s my duty,” he responded simply. I didn’t understand him then, and I can’t say I ever will.
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Reply #1425. Jul 01 12, 9:47 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
The boy regained his wits the following day. He was a quiet sort, with brooding eyes, the kind that have seen too much. He told me he’d be seven in a few days. His friends were doubtless worried sick about him, as it had been a few weeks since they spoke. “If you tell me their names, I’ll be sure to get word to them.” He’d have liked to give them the news in person, but he wasn’t sure exactly where he was, and besides Mother didn’t want him going anywhere alone. She felt, as I did, that the Universe was becoming more and more unsettled all the time, and that absolutely anything could happen. “You walk out that door,” I told him, “and the Dark could grab you just as they did before.”
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Reply #1426. Jul 01 12, 9:48 AM
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Jazmee27
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Mother wanted to know why the Dark had chosen Sajivreya, but he just shook his head. “Before I got so tired, I asked myself that many times. What did I have that set me apart from others? It can’t be They see me as a threat, as I’m no wizard. Mama used to tell me magic ran in my veins, but I’ve got none.” Mother and I suggested he did, but it hadn’t activated yet. “Maybe,” he replied, “but I doubt it.” In the end, we gave up as this argument was getting nowhere fast. Instead, we listened as he described how things were when his parents were still alive, and spoke of his good friend Sikradu. “He’s got a brother my age, but Mehnyana and me just didn’t click the way I did with Sikradu. We used to spend hours playing, sometimes indoors, sometimes out. His Mama, she treat me like I were her own son.” He paused, then glanced down self-consciously. He was dressed, since we didn’t have anything smaller, in some of my old things. “I miss my family,” he said quietly.
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Reply #1427. Jul 01 12, 9:50 AM
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Jazmee27
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ANOTHER EXPERIMENTAL DRAFT, THAT EIGHT
AND NOW, HERE'S THE LAST ONE TO DATE:
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He was small for his age, with intense brown eyes that seemed always to be smiling. That is, until his last year, when all smiles seemed to have been sucked from his body. Then again, that year was a very unhappy year for everyone. Dread and gloom hung in the air like toxins, waiting patiently to claim their next victims.
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Reply #1428. Jul 01 12, 9:51 AM
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Jazmee27
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The news services got it mostly wrong, not about how Sajivreya died, but about the other stuff. It’s all about the shock factor, creating the most sensational story. Very rarely does anyone care to delve any deeper for that yarn than the surface. What most people don’t seem to get is, not reporting the full extent of an issue does a major disservice to whatever’s being written about. In this case, the news services dishonored the boy’s memory with their shoddy reporting.
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THAT, AS THEY SAY, IS ALL SHE WROTE
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Reply #1429. Jul 01 12, 9:53 AM
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Jazmee27
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ONE OF THESE DAYS, I'LL DIVE INTO THE NINETEEN DRAFTS OF "The Tribunal," ASSUMING I DON'T WRITE MORE FIRST
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Reply #1430. Jul 01 12, 9:55 AM
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Jazmee27
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MAKE THAT TWENTY, AND LET'S START NOW:
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Reply #1431. Jul 01 12, 1:18 PM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT ONE
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One of the worst crimes in the Universe is known as Impersonation. I don’t mean pretending to be any old thing; I mean pretending to be one of the Protectors, who are collectively known as the Light or Forces of Light. Such a crime comes with a mandatory and instantaneous death sentence. And anyone can be guilty, because some Dark Hunters are quite adept at *hiding their true identities until… don’t ask me when—I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.
The only person who can overturn such convictions, those involving Impersonation of the Light, is the Universal ruler. This is where it gets tricky, too. You see, Caspian and Sheila Brandis once lived in this other Universe called Andromeda, which was utterly destroyed by the Dark. Don’t ask me exactly when or how, but there you go. Stars… planets… other celestial bodies… gone in the blink of an eye.
Somehow, Caspian and Sheila—along with their son, Preston—managed to escape with their lives intact. They came to this Universe, and are now doing the best they can to help the rest of us battle the Dark here, which is growing at an alarming rate.
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Reply #1432. Jul 01 12, 1:22 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
Facing death has a way of firming up one’s priorities. Things that seemed important once—even a few weeks or days ago—seem trivial. Only the things that should matter have the least meaning.
Over the years, my identical twin and I have suffered one betrayal after another; endured more torture than one can imagine; and somehow managed to keep our sanity through it all. But, this time, facing the Tribunal, I found my mind unable to formulate even the most basic of thoughts. It just all seemed so incredible, that two 13-year-olds should be charged with the most serious of crimes, and to know that our time in this Universe was fast coming to an end.
How did we get to this? Why us? These are questions which, staring at the angry faces of our condemners, I couldn’t articulate—but later, back in my filthy cell, came crashing down on me like a hundred-ton weight.
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Reply #1433. Jul 01 12, 1:23 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
I suppose I should start out by introducing myself. After all, that’s what all the books I’ve read indicate I should do. Not that any of that reading’s helped me much—it has, but there are moments it doesn’t seem like it.
I should warn you up front, my life can be *very confusing. I know other peoples’ lives can be also, but mine’s got to be the most difficult of them all.
First off, I have three names: one in the Universal dialect, one in Scenorian, and a third in Qiryntian. The first is Ontario Gonzales; second, Orseviyto Ordevahran; and third, Qodiehnto Voliyno, though everyone calls me Qodi.
Second confusing facet of my life: age. I have two—one in Universal terms, the other in Fairy years. The first means that I *appear to be a regular nine-year-old. Same goes for my twin, whose three names are Alonso Gonzales, Orelio Ordevahran and Qorteviyno Voliyno—his preferred nickname is Qori. Anyway, I say all that to say this: in actual years, we’re really *thirteen years old. This is because we happen to be pure fairy, not just wizards—oops, I meant warlocks. And that reminds me—we actually have another set of names, which is really rather confusing. Alonso’s Rhozeynta, which translates as He Who Overcomes the Darkness. I can actually agree with that, but me? I’m Rhozestheynta, which means the Sustainer of Hope and peace. *What? Sustainer of… **Excuse *me? Number one, I don’t feel either of those things—and I sure as hell don’t exemplify them. **Who in Universe’ *name came up with those?
Third, and most important, confusing factor, is the Dark—also known as Dark Hunters, Odomahratreyno, Evil Ones, Greater or Lesser Demons, Devil’s Spawn, Supreme or Ultimate Evil, O Dark Ones, or Evil Spirits. There are **a *lot of them. Seems like, the more you know, the more there are. The more you *think you know, the *less you actually do—except that the evil’s growing throughout the Universe.
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Reply #1434. Jul 01 12, 1:26 PM
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Jazmee27
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Fourth confusing thing, we have Powers. Sometimes our magic’s unreliable, sometimes it’s fine, but always there’s something new we can do. The Enemy (oops—that’s a name for the Dark I missed—have given up trying to drain our magic. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve tried, only to have one of us prove it didn’t work.
Fifth, I feel so many different emotions right now it’s not even funny. It’s impossible to sort them out. I keep remembering lines like “we’re only human” and “Superhuman Powers doesn’t mean Superhuman emotions.” And I keep thinking of how so much has been written in Prophecy, and how even that which is foretold can change in various ways. That each aspect of prophecy has at least two possible outcomes, and the first is the outcome which we all want but, for one reason or another, almost always never get.
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Reply #1435. Jul 01 12, 1:28 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
My teeth clench, as if that will keep the scream from erupting from my throat, or keep my liquid essence from spilling forth like a hurricane.
I’m lying in a puddle of my own blood, which suddenly becomes a lake, then a river. My hands, I’ve just noticed, are balled into fists, the nails digging furroughs in my hands. Silent tears cascade like a waterfall down my cheeks. Each breath is sheer agony.
No, this isn’t a nightmare, but the latest “interrogation” session. The guard, or whatever he calls himself, kicks me repeatedly, then jabs me with his needlelike fingers. No way to escape the lances of pain shooting through me. I want to sink into oblivion, and yet I know if I do that I’m abandoning my brother. I can just see his outline, a few feet away, just lying there. I can only hope the spell I used to induce unconsciousness lasts. They won’t hurt him so long as he’s in such a state. Some demons would, but not these, the “I’m too intelligent to go the cowardly route” kind, the “I want to see you fight against me and prove how helpless you are” kind.
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Reply #1436. Jul 01 12, 1:30 PM
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Jazmee27
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I just remembered, incredibly, that I’m not in the cell with Alonso, that They’ve dragged me into this torture chamber. They call it an interrogation, but nothing could be further from the truth—Xynorans don’t ask questions; They torture prisoners until there’s nothing left to torture.
I scream uncontrollably as first one, then another, of my bones splinters into a billion tiny pieces. Amazing the amount of torment one can suffer and yet remain fully conscious.
A well-placed spell, and my vision blurs. I don’t want to die, and yet I know I am. There’s nothing I can do…
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Reply #1437. Jul 01 12, 1:31 PM
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Jazmee27
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And then I wake up, in a Scenorian cell as opposed to a Xynoran one. A low moan escapes my lips, and a calming hand presses down on my forehead. I’m tired of sleeping, but I have no choice, and find myself slipping once more into a cool and peaceful place.
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Reply #1438. Jul 01 12, 1:32 PM
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Jazmee27
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I’ve discovered that, too often, life doesn’t make sense. That’s why it’s sometimes best not even to *try to understand—otherwise, there’s just a big, fat headache waiting at the end of it.
Like when I woke up in Scenorian prison. Oddly enough, I regained consciousness knowing exactly why I was there. I remembered being in this place in the Xynoran capital of Xaitora called the Criminal Cooler. It’s famous—or infamous, depending how you think of it—for swallowing people whole. Someone will wind up inside, for whatever reason, and never be seen or heard from again. The only exceptions to that rule are Alonso and myself.
A lot of the hardships and other stuff in mine and Alonso’s life is tied up in this Prophecy. It can be annoying, because Protector-forbid we should have normal lives. It’s nonstop excitement. No rest for the weary in our world!
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Reply #1439. Jul 01 12, 1:33 PM
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Jazmee27
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Anyway, one major difference between being prisoners in Xynor and being the same in Scenoria is how convictions are dealt with. In Xaitora, we could be—and were—tortured without any reason or justification given. I guess, if you want to be technical, their reasoning is simple—we still live and breathe; therefore, we deserve to be tortured relentlessly until we quit hanging on. One refrain I heard over and over during that time was, “you’re too stubborn for your own good.” This was always followed by some excruciating agony, the kind that made me want to sink into the floorboards or something—as if that would have helped me. If I ever blacked out, my “jailers,” or whatever they called themselves, would be waiting until I regained consciousness. Then the cycle would continue, the pain getting more intense with each passing minute. I never realized, but magic *hurts!
So, what was my point when beginning this? Oh, yeah—the defference between where I was and where I am now. In Scenoria, by law the guards—again, whatever they deign to call themselves—have to give some reason for our being confined here. Only after reading the “charges,” can we be tortured again.
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Reply #1440. Jul 01 12, 1:35 PM
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