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Warning - contains some violence.

Icon art from the Mermul reference by Billie/FeatheryFlukes

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Chapter 7 - Verdict

After checking his messages, Fardon woke Mermul early and they made their way to the palace ahead of the appointment. Fisk had been told to wait in the park again, and was obviously displeased, but had complied reluctantly.

Mermul had painted his claws red and bounded along happily, but Fardon seemed preoccupied and distant, and it gradually dawned on the frost-dragon that his protector had once again been ordered to perform some duty for Lord Varl, one that he had misgivings about.

"Wait here, please," Fardon said, and disappeared into a nearby building, the guards outside keeping an eye on the newcomer. Mermul wondered what would happen if he wandered off, and decided against taking the chance.

When Fardon returned, he was in ceremonial platemail again, complete with tail-blade. Mermul looked at the keen-edged weapon and gulped.

He became increasingly nervous as he was led to the palace courtyard, where a crowd of smaller races and a number of dragons had formed. Mermul's heart sank and he let out a low moan as he saw that this was, indeed, going to be an execution.

Lord Varl presided, flanked by his advisors, Lord Olson, Lord Farar and the local Bishop as well. A teal-coloured dragoness stood at one end of the courtyard, wings bound around her waist. She was the same species as Mermul, a fact that was not lost on him.

"Oh no, no," he murmured, and glanced at Fardon for reassurance, only to find that the knight had gone, replaced by an unfamiliar red dragon in similar attire, who was watching him suspiciously.

Mermul looked back at the dragoness, and saw that Fardon was in the centre of the courtyard, standing besides a large guillotine with multiple lunettes that was clearly designed for the sole purpose of beheading a dragon. Tears began to well in his eyes.

"Fercia," Fardon announced, "You have been found guilty of violating the Pax Draconica through an act of terrorism that has taken dozens of innocent lives. You have been found to be an agent of Lord Thurr, and for these foul deeds, you must pay with your head. What say you?"

"That I regret I have but one head to give for my Lord!" the teal dragoness retorted loudly. "What I did, in his service, I did for the good of dragonkind, and I would gladly do it a hundred times over that we may once again reign supreme... As is our birthright! What is my death compared to that future?"

"The sentence is confirmed," Lord Varl decreed. "Let justice be done."

The dragoness struggled and clawed as Fardon and one of the other knights forced her into position, snorting as she tried in vain to use a breath weapon, dampened as it was by the magical wards around the courtyard. They closed the lunette closest to her body first and locked it down, before wrestling her meters-long neck into the other restraints and finally pinning her head into place. As the last lunette finally dropped down around her neck, she opened her mouth wide for one defiant yell.

"Devourer take you all!" She screamed. "Long Live Lord Thurr!" Mermul shut his eyes and sobbed, but it didn't block out the sounds of her death, nor the smell of blood and fresh meat.

There was not a sound from the crowd.

"Justice is done," Lord Varl intoned. "May the Great One forgive her. And us."

The blue fluff-dragon opened his eyes, swaying slightly in shock. He stared fixedly at a small patch of ground until he realised Fardon was waving a gauntleted paw under his face.

"Mermul... Mermul...? Lord Varl wishes to see you now," he said. The blue fluff-dragon stared back at him, uncomprehending.

"Why...?" he whimpered. "Why did you make me watch this...? Isn't it bad enough that you had to kill her? Why make me see it?"

"I think you know why, Mermul," Fardon said grimly. "...Or should I say, Mirmjolnar the Slayer?"

* * *

The hall had taken an ominous look as Mermul was led into it by Fardon and the other dragon knight, who turned out to be Sir Darving. Guards stood at every exit, watching the fluff-dragon suspiciously, and there was no mistaking Fardon's grim look and reluctance about the whole affair.

"Mermul," Lord Varl began, "You stand accused of being Mirmjolnar the Slayer, a known war-criminal, violator of the Pax Draconica and loyal general to Lord Thurr."

"N-No!" Mermul squeaked. "Why would you even think that?!"

"You went to pray in the Temple of the Great One in Tarnover," Lord Varl said in a matter-of-fact voice. "There, you left a coin in the offering plate. A coin with Lord Thurr's head on it."

"Ohhhhhh...." Mermul keened, deflating. He collapsed to the tiled floor, sobbing profusely.

Fardon broke away from his position and inspected the prone dragon. "He is not acting like a war criminal," he pointed out.

"Is it a feint?" Lord Olson asked. "Is he faking this?"

"No," Fardon said, glancing at the human advisor. "I can smell his terror... And... he hasn't denied it," he added sadly.

"See?" Sir Darving said. "He is Mirmjolnar. And now... He must pay for his crimes!"

"No," Fiskul interjected defiantly, landing in front of Mermul.

Fardon gave a croak of dismay at the small dragon's sudden intrusion. "Devourer take all this," he muttered, before realising the absurdity of the statement.

"No," Fiskul continued. "Mermul is not Mirmjolnar. He may have been once, but he isn't now. People change... Usually for the better. Mermul came here seeking sanctuary, and you are going to give it to him. Or else."

"Who are you to defy Lord Varl, child?" Sir Darving snarled.

"I am the Dark Destroyer," Fiskul said. "And I do not like bullies. Now, I'll tell you what we're going to do. We're going to listen to Mermul explain himself, something which you have just made a lot harder by reducing him into a blubbering mess," they added with a snarl.

"Once you have heard his story, then you are going to come to a sensible decision. And if you decide that my friend, my lover, is to be put to death, then we are going to have a bit of a problem on our claws."

"If he's in league with the Evil One, it stands to reason that he's guilty!" Bishop Ferdinand said. "If nothing else, he is a heretic and must pay with his neck!"

"Don't be a fool," Fiskul growled. "That is not the law in these parts."

"It is an old law, but it is still on the books," the kangaroo retorted smugly. "Those who have had intercourse with the Evil One must die."

"Seize the intruder!" Sir Darving yelled.

Fiskul threw up their head and roared, tendrils of interstellar void flickering around their gaping maw.

"Stop it!" Fardon roared. He looked particularly strained.

"Sirs, please tread carefully around this creature. We have enough problems already. Do you really wish to provoke the ire of one who could destroy the world if they chose? Let us listen to Mermul's story and then decide what must be done."

"We will listen," Lord Varl promised. "Stand down, Sir Darving."

"It is true," Mermul said dazedly. "I... I was hatched in Lord Thurr's domain. I did lose my parents in Lord Thurr's attacks... but they fought on his side. I was taught - indoctrinated - to believe that we dragons should reign supreme and that all who opposed us were traitors to our race and must be crushed."

Fardon shook his head sadly.

"I lived by that code for centuries," Mermul added distractedly. "I am not heavily-built like Fardon, so I was trained to be an assassin. Mirmjolnar the Slayer, people named me. I killed people who my Lord felt posed a threat, dragon and small race alike, and I thought nothing of it. No remorse, no empathy. Lord Thurr considered such emotions to be weakness, and I believed him. Killing and dominating... those were the emotions he encouraged. And I did not know better. It was all I knew."

"See? A spy for Lord Thurr!" Sir Darving crowed. "Another saboteur... Like Fercia!"

"Quiet!" Fiskul snapped. "Let him finish!"

Mermul did not seem to notice, and continued speaking in a trance-like voice. "One day, not so long ago, my orders were to attack an outpost bordering Arcaia," he said. "I was to kill all within, to demonstrate Lord Thurr's ire at some perceived slight. This I did, but they had the modern weapons of the Hunters and I was hit. I remember falling... Feeling fear for the first time... Crashing to the earth near the ruined tower, and then..."

"And then what, Mermul?" Lord Varl asked quietly.

"Then I was somewhere else," Mermul said vaguely. Fardon and Sir Darving looked at each other uncertainly.

"I remember... the sky," the blue dragon continued, eyes widening. "It was like dawn. It was beautiful. I was flying so high I couldn't even see the ground below. But then someone flew alongside me, and looked me over. A golden dragon, like Alkrash in the temples. It was like he was staring deep into my soul, and he looked sad.
"And I knew that I had failed. That I would face damnation and torment. But then another dragon, a silver one, drew up and said that... that I couldn't help it. That my mind was addled by Lord Thurr's conditioning... and I deserved another chance.
"They argued, and then the golden one relented. And I woke up.
"I was inside a large white building, bound up and there were people doing things to me. I panicked and tried to fight back but they calmed me down. They had been healing me. Later they told me that my heart had stopped after the crash..." he lapsed into silence.

"A near-death experience," Fardon said. "I have heard of these."

"No, this was an actual death experience," Fiskul said, looking impressed. "You're very lucky, Mermul. Dad isn't easily swayed.... not many get another chance. But if you want my opinion, you'd probably pass the bar next time. You've learned from your mistakes. And as long as you can keep to that path, your soul should be safe."

Fardon cocked his head questioningly and his eyes narrowed.

"What are you saying...? You've been to the dawn land too...?"

"You may recall that I got a new piercing recently," the black dragon reminded them. "A brain piercing. Think that was my first death...? Hah! I've lost count. But I have a job to do, so I keep getting sent back."

"We are digressing," Lord Varl said. "Pray continue, Mermul."

"Once they had healed my body, they tried to heal my mind," Mermul said, looking more animated. "I had killed their men, but they... They showed me that Lord Thurr's creed was flawed. And... I began to feel remorse. Empathy. Guilt and regret. I couldn't control it. I still can't..." he sobbed.

"And beside all that, I knew that Lord Thurr would discover my betrayal. I can't change my past, but I could change my future! I took an alias, and I tried... I tried to start over, and help people. And I did, I really did!
"I helped rebuild the tower I had destroyed, and new buildings as well. I did train as a courier, flying messages and small goods between Arcaia and Forwyn. I really did want to become a medic to try and save lives instead of taking them. I was happy there, but I knew that Lord Thurr would eventually send others to find me. I really am fleeing from Lord Thurr... but as a defector. The Elders concurred and sent me to Taria, believing that I could find sanctuary here.

"I guess... I was wrong..." the blue dragon sobbed.

"There!" Fiskul said defensively. "Happy now? Mermul has had a chequered past, but he's on your side now. He hasn't strictly violated the Pax Draconica, because Lord Thurr never agreed to it. Mermul has tried his best to start over and do what is right, with the help and support of the people he wronged. So he committed atrocities in his youth... Well, he's already paid the death penalty for them. What more do you want?!"

"Normally I would accept this," Lord Varl sighed. "Unfortunately, we also have the problem of his association with you, Dark One. If Mermul is one of your so-called 'friends'..."

"What are you saying?!" Fardon and Fiskul asked in unison.

"Mermul," Lord Varl intoned, "You have had commerce with the Devourer. I find you guilty of the crime of heresy. The sentence for which is death by beheading."

The blue fluff-dragon made a strange noise and flopped to the ground, unconscious.