Chapter 15: Chapter 15: Trial

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Time: 4:00pm-6:00pm

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The escort guided Artie to the market-like clearing. Its appearance was different from when he'd first visited, a large number of its shops were cleared, and a large wooden stage sat in their place. Around the scene was a mass of people; it looked like most of its citizens had been present. The layout of the whole thing reminded Artie of a graduation venue.

It was still bright out, but the sun was nearing its limits, and when that happened, the cold would set in. Artie hoped the event wouldn't take long; he needed daylight to travel if they were to kick him out.

As he approached, the escort walked closely in front of him, shoving aside the more " passionate" citizens.

"Don't ruin what we built!"

"We've been through enough already!"

"Kick him out of here!"

His keen hearing made it substantially worse. The many loud noises were distressing, and he couldn't block it all out since he only had one working arm. So, he used his free hand to cover one of his ears while the other was bombarded with harsh and violent voices. In addition to loud noises, the rich scent of food and human odor mixed to assaulted his nose.

As if things weren't already dreadful, the mob of thousands danced throughout his view darkening the path to the stage. No one person could be made out, just a colorful mesh of flesh and clothing blending to create an abstract piece of anxiety. And finally, because there was still one sense left to be harassed without consent. Countless hands reached from the crowd, feeling, pulling, and slapping him. He didn't hate being touched in a casual setting, but their aggressive manner was highly antagonizing.

"Get off me!" He growled, pulling away from hands in every which direction.

Artie was breathing heavily, trembling wildly, and lightheaded. Between his anger and his senses being overloaded, he was on the brink of having a panic attack.

"You'll bring disaster upon our town!"

"He's been cursed by a God!"

"No more death!"

"No more death!"

The mob eventually settled on a phrase to chant instead of yelling their individual taunts. There was more consistency with the noise, which helped, but the situation was still unfavorable.

"You're the WORST escort in the short history of Earth." Artie bluntly snarled.

While he meant it, the high volume of noise ensured no one could hear anything he said. Despite that, the man must have felt Artie's wrath because he turned around and noticed his unstable disposition.

"Stay back!" He shouted, drawing his sword and placing an arm around Artie to shelter him from the hostile horde.

What should have been a few seconds turned into two minutes of traveling to the stage. Artie thought of it as karma for the first day when he joined in and screamed at the guiltless scientist.

"Up the stairs!" Yelled the escort, giving Artie a push at his back.

 

<>

 

The stage was a rectangular platform about the length of a train cart. Once up the stairs, Artie saw six people. Three on the left side and three on the right side of the stage. After spotting Ryu and Sebastian, he could guess that all six were the so-called leaders of the town.

"I don't like this." Whispered Artie as he walked towards the center stage.

He stood anxiously, looking down at the ocean of people still chanting "No more death" repeatedly.

"It's ironic since most of you would be dead if it weren't for me." Grumbled Artie, pressing his hand harder against his ear.

"That's enough," Declared a woman to his right.

Her voice wasn't loud enough to reach the ears of anyone in the crowd, but turning his head, he could see her hand raised only as high as her shoulder. The reaction was the same every time she spoke or motioned; silence.

He recognized her as the shield-carrying woman that guarded him earlier that day. She lowered her arm, elegantly stepped forward, then took a deep breath.

"Good afternoon." She greeted.

The mass had gone completely quiet as if someone had pressed the mute button on a TV remote.

Before continuing, she slowly turned, faced Artie, and walked his way.

"I heard you only arrived yesterday." Said the woman, looking down at Artie.

Artie had seen them before, but up close, the woman's crimson red iris was intimidating and unnatural in every way. The more he looked, the more he'd hoped they were contacts or that he'd never need to reencounter her company.

"Heavy," He thought, not listening but watching the woman's eyes as she spoke.

"It's regrettable that it's come to this," Continued the woman, observing that Artie had spaced out.

She turned back to the crowd, inhaled, then spoke loudly for all to hear.

"Let's begin."

"We've gathered here today to discuss the fate of this man. He is guilty of no crimes; however, he does bring with him the threat of a God Type. We've named them so because these particular monsters are known to quickly create more of their kind. Moreover, they possess overwhelming power. "

"Out of the four God types we've encountered, we have not been able to kill a single one."

Her voice carried far and strong, and despite her volume, the woman didn't sound dreadful. Each word was neat and flowed cleanly from her mouth. The topic was displeasing, yet her tone stayed calm and consistent.

"I ask that you respect the decision myself and the leaders of this town settle on."

Artie stood patiently and listened to the woman's dialogue. He found the whole situation to be dramatic and unnecessary.

"Miss, there's no need."

Hearing Artie, the well-spoken woman turned her attention to him. Her expression was dignified yet ordinary, as though hiding her identity.

"Please, call me Wana." Requested the woman, lowering her volume to speak privately.

He seized the woman's gaze and became distracted, forgetting his vulnerability for her unordinary eyes.

"Do you disagree with our methods?" Asked the woman, her head staying perfectly still.

…

"Huh, what did she say?" Thought Artie as he slightly jolted.

"I can leave on my own; the people here clearly aren't a fan of me." Stated Artie.

He didn't think it was possible, but her face displayed genuine emotion after his remark. It wasn't sadness or pity, but she looked slightly disappointed. Her eyes narrowed, and her well-shaped brows lowered partially.

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"Don't be so quick to give up." Preached Wana.

Her words were intended as advice, but her presence shaped them as a command. Artie thought the woman was not asking but telling him not to give up.

"If you have anything to say in your defense, now would be the time." Explained the woman, taking a step back and raising her volume a level.

Artie took a moment to consider her advice; while he didn't hate the town itself, he'd begun to detest the people that peered at him from the ground. Arranging his line of sight from the far back towards the front of the mob, he returned tasteless looks to all the people below him.

"There's nothing for me h-"

Halting before finishing his sentence, Artie glanced over a familiar face in the audience. It was brief, but among the many furious citizens was the face of someone weeping; A young boy.

…

Artie raised his head towards the discolored blue sky and took a deep breath.

"Maybe I could persuade them to let me stay…."

"At Least until I heal, then I'll go find mom and dad."

Exhaling all at once, he yelled loud enough that anyone with ears could hear.

"Your loss!"

Exerting himself, he coughed and grabbed his wounded arm that now ached. His throat was dry from not drinking all day, and his head became light from the lack of energy resulting from not eating.

Wana, the woman leading the trial, too raised her voice and questioned him.

"Could you elaborate?" she asked, adjusting her footing to face him partially.

“I, I'm-” Stammered Artie.

He raised a hand over his throat. A burning sensation crept on his vocal cords, making any pronunciation extremely painful.

"Some water, please," Requested the woman, looking down at a girl near the bottom of the stage.

Within a minute, someone had run off, returned, climbed the wooden stairs, and handed Artie a full cup of water. Obviously joyed by the subsistence, he quickly threw his head back and consumed every droplet of water in the cup.

"Thank you…" Uttered Artie, speaking to Wana but avoiding her sights.

"You may resume," She stated, wasting no time continuing.

He handed the empty cup to the provider, cleared his throat, then continued.

"Your loss," he repeated, looking boldly at the crowd.

"I heard colored hunters were rare; maybe another town will welcome me."

Artie knew little about the moonstone and its usage. Still, it was clear the people understood what he implied because chatter erupted, filling the area with disorder and confusion.

"He's full of shit," laughed one of the voices on Artie's "Most-Hated List."

Turning, he matched the voice to the man he'd met not long ago: light gray hair, big ears, and a smug, mobster face. Laughing hysterically, he clenched his stomach and wiped tears from his eyes.

"I always knew there was something special about you!" Yelled Sebastian, grinning on the opposite side of the stage.

The conversation from the audience intensified, increasing more until Artie once again had to cover one of his ears.

"We should give him the benefit of the doubt." A man Insisted, his voice firm and honest.

The new stranger stood on the left side of the platform next to Ryu and the gray-haired man who was laughing away. Artie's first impression of him was that he appeared "Bright." His short hair was shiny blonde, and he had clear blue eyes, a white shirt, blue jeans, a light brown vest, and a polished sword at his waist. Even his voice was bright. It stood out among the many others, making it easy for Artie to identify him.

Aside from Sebastian, Artie had begun to think all the so-called leaders were troublesome. Yet to his surprise, the shining man had a courteous presence.

The dark-skinned woman nodded to an individual near the stage. Once again, a body rushed away, then returned with the item she wanted. Wana retrieved the smooth rounded object from the errand boy and held her hand outward.

After some time off the reins, the commotion settled once they noticed what was happening on stage.

"If you would," asked Wana, extending the stone towards Artie.

He began to reach but halted a quarter of the way there. He'd noticed earlier, but unlike medical tests, the so-called moonstone provided quick results. Within a second of Wana grabbing the stone, it began to light up.

"You too," he mumbled, staring at the stone.

If Artie's stone was as bright as a candle, Wana's would be described as a blazing fireplace. The stone was not faint in color nor radiance, growing brighter and brighter; The transparent pebble-like item became a warm crimson red, identical to her irises. Within, the number 6 clearly appeared.

"No wonder they respect her so much.…."

Artie grabbed the stone from her and raised it as high as his arm could reach. The stone changed from that intense crimson to glowing a dim, sad blue, just as before. The number, however, had increased from 1 to 2.

There was a sudden gasp, then stillness claimed the area. Startled eyes peered up at Artie, examining the object he held so pridefully.

Artie's arm grew tired quickly, and within half a minute, he lowered the stone to the front of his chest.

"This a joke?!" "How did he, a nobody-" "Ugh, this pisses me off!"

The same gray-haired man yelled and threw a tantrum. His temper signaled for the rest of the people to break their silence and babble. Artie expected more. Perhaps not a medal or key to the town, but their reaction was lacking. Even the length of the scatter was cut short because Wana quickly stepped forward and resumed control of the public.

"With this new knowledge, let's proceed."

She repositioned herself next to Artie and raised her hand towards him as if presenting a gift.

"Will we raise our weapons to the monster that threatens our home, or will we discharge this hunter, ensuring our longevity."

She turned and looked to the right, meeting the sights of all the leaders that stood there, then to the left doing the same.

"All in favor of allowing this man safe haven within our town, raise your hands."

Artie turned his back to the crowd and rotated his head left, then right, observing the leader's decisions and his fate.

It only took a second for them all to cast their votes. Once informed of the results, Artie looked sarcastically down at the lit stone in his hand, then closed his eyes. A slight smile crawled across his face, too vague for anyone to see.

"Thanks," Snickered Artie.

 

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