“One of these men murdered me.” The boyish voice speaks frostily. “This is my dilemma, Oslando. I will present you with the facts and you will enact my vengeance.”
With wide eyes he looks at the chained men, both staring at him with fear in their eyes, their mouths gagged so they can’t influence his choice.
“If you think I will just do this, you are wrong.” Oslando sounds determined.
“What’s wrong?”, Bruq asks him, tightening his grip around this spear-like weapon.
“The gem asks me to kill one of them.”
While the satyr keeps staring in disbelief, the other three members all react in their own manner:
“That’s not nice to ask.”
“Is there any kind of payment involved?”
“Just kill one and get it over with. Or kill both.”
The crystal speaks. “I was the descendant of a noble bloodline and I lived a rich life, filled with many people. One of those people is Marcus Pond, a servant of my family.”
One of the lights intensifies to show him more details, while the other dims. It shines on a human adolescent, probably in his early twenties, with a skin coloured by his work outside in the sun. He has short and curly black hair and wears clothes that are too big.
“He knows nothing else but servitude. He was born into a privileged life, as my father called it. He meant slavery. He has always served us well, but that didn’t stop my father from beating him senseless with his cane, a whip or whatever kind of cutlery was available.”
As Oslando listens to the crystal, he notices the scars and bruises.
“I always liked Marcus”, the voice says softly. “He is honest, works hard and never complains. He is a lovable servant and a kind man.”
The light’s intensity changes and puts the spotlight on the other man.
“Another person that was a very prominent person in my life was Balthazar Gheronimus Well II, also known as my father.”
The chained, elderly man is wearing a well-tailored robe of bright colours, has many rings on both hands and looks he’s from the upper class. His beard is trimmed and his white hair is freshly cut.
“As you can see, my father is a very rich man. He has pieces of gold and silver in abundanc. He also has some other qualities: a short temper, vileness, cruelty. After mother died… Dad never was the same again. He was haunted by troubling thoughts. Thoughts of pain and death. When he couldn’t handle the pain anymore, he would take it out on something - or someone - less threatening.”
The light returns to its original setting, shining down on both men equally.
“One of these two is my murderer, but they both claim they’re innocent. Marcus was sleeping in the part of the house reserved for our servants. No one can vouch for him, but I never caught him on a lie before. I would trust him on his word, making him the perfect murderer.”
The voice stops speaking for a second, as if it needs to catch his breath. Oslando can hear the sighing, moving in the same rhythm as the green light of the Enochian gems pulsates.
“My father, the notorious liar, has an alibi. One of his friends, who owes him a large sum of gold, says he was at his house, invited for dinner. He is capable of murder, I know he is, and that makes him an easy suspect. But what if this one of the rare occasions he speaks the truth?”
While the half-elf hears this monologue in his head, the others are just standing there, staring, waiting for something to happen.
“Well, the quest for this crystal is way less thrilling than the previous one. I’m curious what we are going to find in the Way of Treasure. I’m always up to find gold. Some booty… Some ducats… Some…”
“Please, Lyssa, shut up”, Bruq says with a subtle grin. “We know you are a pirate, no need to shove it down our throats.”
She looks at him with a face so sour she could almost taste the vinegar on her tongue. “Go play with your belt of toys, boy”, she snarls, overdramatically snapping her fingers multiple times in front of his face. As they playfully continue their nagging, Mero walks up to the cleric.
“Sometimes I feel like we should act as parents to those two”, Mero says. He looks up to the draconian with a serious expression on his face.
Dargothoth rolls with his eyes and sighs. “Sure thing, puppet.”
“This is all the information I can give you, just half-elf, and I need you to sentence one of these two men. An eye for an eye, murder for murder. Who is it going to be, Oslando? Show me how righteous you are.”
The half-elf slowly shakes his head. “I would like to hear these men speak for themselves.”
The light that casts down on the two prisoners turns orange.
“No, no, no. They can’t speak. This is all you need to know. You must decide now!”
He shakes his head again, faster. He fixates his worried eyes on the two men in front of him. “I don’t have any proof they did something wrong. Also, I don’t believe in death as a punishment. A long life in jail, that’s what he deserves. To die quickly is no punishment.”
The light turns into a deep red.
“What’s happening?” Lyssa sounds scared.
The voice becomes more angered, more hostile. It sounds deeper, louder and less youthful than before. “If you don’t choose one, I will kill them both! Or, maybe even better, I will punish you or one of your friends. I will show you the meaning of justice myself! I will kill you all!”
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