Title-- The Demon-God of Jubagh (part thirty-two)
Rating and Warnings-- G; mild language.
Cast-- Rai Gerring, defected black magician (human man); Brandon Styhan, exiled paladin-warrior (human man); Lhafa Softstep, blind voodoo warrior (baghan woman); two knight exemplars [Arista Reenla, Erick Glessen], two paladins [Gary Hallin, Theo Doreck], and a young priest [Father Joshua Krein] (human men and women).
Previously-- Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two, Part Twenty-Three, Part Twenty-Four, Part Twenty-Five, Part Twenty-Six, Part Twenty-Seven, Part Twenty-Eight, Part Twenty-Nine, Part Thirty, Part Thirty-One.



On the fifteenth day, the deadbolt twisted open and the door swung wide; Arista stood in the doorway, dressed in ceremonial armor and lacking her concealing helm. Erick stood behind her and to the left, dressed similarly with his brown hair braided, instead of hastily thrown into a ponytail. Rai blinked at the dazzling light streaming past the two knights and breathed deeply, then coughed. "...I didn't expect her to be a blonde," he murmured to Brandon in the baghan tongue, "and it strikes me as odd that she's wearing .. I don't know the word for it. The scent of flowers."

"It is time," Arista intoned, gesturing for the prisoners to rise. "We have docked within the Source of Light, on Eregged. I have already asked Father Krein to head to the nearest court and begin researching the undoubtably numerous charges against your name, mage. We will bring you three to meet him there, and then go through the checking station as a trial is being arranged."

"Can she get any more pompous?" Brandon muttered in baghan, climbing to his feet. "Yes, milady," he said in his own tongue, grinning widely when Erick frowned at him past Arista's pauldron. He bit back the urge to make a sarcastic comment about parading badly-dressed prisoners through the streets of a gleaming holy city. Barbs now could easily get him jailed for insubordination, and he had no intention of living a year in a real prison.

"Follow me. Styhan first, then the mage, then the native." Arista spun smartly on her heel and moved with an even gait towards the stairs to the top deck of the ship. Erick shook his head warningly at Brandon, keeping his hand on his new broadsword as the larger man strode past him. Rai murmured to Lhafa, then followed, trailed by the baghan herself. She moved very quietly, keeping her hooves from clopping noisily on the wooden flooring, tail dusting the floor before each step. Erick walked behind her, bringing up the rear of the strange procession.

Once they reached the deck, two paladins flanked Rai as Arista led them towards a long ramp that extended from the hovering warship to the dock. Most intersun ships were far too large to ever dock on a world, needing lifeboats as go-betweens, but in the Source of the Light, magic was strong enough to make impossibilities into mere difficulties. The Light's Hammer was suspended mid-air, its keel a mere fifty feet above a busy roadway.

The sun was almost blindingly bright in the sky, radiating a smooth warm and spreading golden ambience until the crystal-blue hue of the sky itself could only be seen on the edges of the horizon. Rai sucked in a startled breath at the gleaming splendor of the city he could barely see past the overwhelming luminance - all curving domes and high, graceful spires. The roads were busy with both hovercarts and the indigenous equivalents of horses.

"Ahh, the shining peak of civilization," Erick murmured behind him, letting out a relieved sigh. "It is good to be home."

Rai couldn't help but cringe as he reached out to shadows for comfort and found none. He slid his hands into his wide sleeves, deft fingers discreetly checking the many pockets inside his robe. Yes, he still had a few strands of Erick's hair and a chip of the knight's fingernail in that pocket. It made him feel better.

Arista led them all down the long ramp and into the streets. Though not all the passers-by were humans, they still recoiled at the sight of Rai's arcane tattoos and Lhafa's strange appearance. Rai gritted his teeth and kept his face impassive, trying to observe as much as he could. It was hard to imagine a clean, glowing place like this being Brandon's home - Brandon, who was wearing tattered leather clothing and moving with a faked swagger to hide his unease at being here. They were indeed both prisoners, and Rai felt oddly relieved to know that Brandon was as uncomfortable as he was.

It was a long walk from their dock to the chapel-court where Father Krein had been sent - long and silent. They were not permitted to speak, especially not in baghan. Rai huddled in his cloak, using the hood to try to keep the direct light out of his eyes; it was beginning to dizzy him. Soon enough, they wouldn't have to guard him so closely; he could feel his inner reserves of shadow-magic being drained by the inescapable brightness. No wonder the magic cults never mount attacks on worlds in the Source.

The tall, ornate doors to the courthouse swung wide when Arista paused and hailed the building directly. She led them into the blessedly cool interior, directing them to wait in the foyer while she went ahead to find Father Krein. Enjoying the comparable darkness, Rai was glad to be patient, knowing that she would come back with accusations. He was more worried how it would affect Lhafa than what he might have to endure.

Arista's face was strained, lips set in a thin line, when she returned and shoved past Brandon to glare at the mage. "Your name is in our records as a suspected threat, but there are no crimes attached to it," she grated out, struggling to keep her voice down. "You must have tampered with the records somehow, or gone under a different name when you were still with your cult. Give me your other name."

Rai spread his hands and shrugged. "Sister Reenla, I have committed no crimes against the Light. I have no other name, and you yourself know that I could not possibly change any of your records without being a god or a Lightworker. I am neither."

Her fists clenched as she leaned forward, too close for comfort. "You. must. have. another. name. It is impossible that you could be as old as you are without having registered half a dozen crimes or more."

"...I'm only thirty-five," Rai muttered, slightly offended. "I have no other name. Not even a nickname, actually. I invite you to perform a truth-test on me if you are so skeptical."

"Sister," Erick murmured from behind the magician. "Why can't we charge him with his crimes on Jubagh? He did summon a demon and slaughter many natives."

Arista sighed. "Jubagh is not a world policed by Lightworkers. It is outside of our jurisdiction. That's why it's vital that we never interfere with the native culture there," she twisted to shoot Brandon a pointed glare, "and why an exile was sent there in the first place." She shook her head, drawing back a pace and giving Rai breathing room. "Unfortunately, this also means that we cannot place his activities on Jubagh on record." She narrowed her eyes at the mage. "Fine. A truth-test. Father Krein will perform it. Come with me, mage."

Complacently, Rai followed her, still flanked by one of the paladin escorts. The other paladin, as well as Erick, stayed with Brandon and Lhafa. Rai was right, after all; she had indeed returned with accusations.