THE THIRD TRIAL

[strangerpeople]

THE THIRD TRIAL

[Once the final clues are found, the unsettling chimes sound three times again. However, the Debate Hall doors do not open for the Titled. At least, not for a moment or so.

When they do, though, and the Titled descend the stairs, they will find that the desks have been completely updated, up through the deaths of the previous night. It is...unsettling. Have they truly lost half their numbers in such a short time? But, what can they do about it?


The logs are on the desks, and the Intercessor finishes up the final touches of the evidence they made, placing it on the desks.

There is no chanting on the stage. The dragon, also, seems to be gone, leaving only traces of arms and legs and goo. So, the Intercessor simply goes and sits on the stairs, looking at the remaining survivors. They sound tired as they speak.]

All right. Everyone...do your best. Take your time, and...good luck.


[The trial of Raphtalia, the Dreamstrider, and Farkas, the Outcast, has begun.]

Comments

[poorlovefool]

[He's hesitant to say anything. He never really saw what the others saw in the Intercessor, but...]

...Hey, don't get like that. Farkas believed in you.

[If all of this is true, there must have been a great reason. Then maybe this information will be key to escaping with their lives. And speaking of which.]

What the hell is the key?

[intercessing]

And he is dead. And even now I do not know him.

[And yet it's like their stomach is being ripped from them, again and again, from a grief they cannot fully explain or even comprehend. Who were they to them?!]

[poorlovefool]

[Eric swallows hard, but then gets in their face a bit, serious.]

He's dead because there are people who are worth dying for. And you're his, and Babette's. Right now, isn't that all you have to know?!

[intercessing]

And what makes their lives worth less than mine?! Because they claim I am Dragonborn, their lives - your lives - are they all worthless in comparison to mine!?

[poorlovefool]

Of course not!

[Would he sacrifice his life for this person, hell no. ... He should probably smooth that over though.]

But... people do crazy things for love. You know?

[intercessing]

I wouldn't, I don't remember any of this...!

[poorlovefool]

So what! Damn, are memories the only things that mean anything?! Why do you think he wrote you a letter!

[intercessing]

How am I to understand, if I don't remember...

[They bring their hands to their face.]

How can I mourn what I do not know...!?

[poorlovefool]

...I don't understand anything like uniting nations or saving the world....

But grief? Mourning? I do know that.

It takes time. Time that we aren't going to have if we all die here.

[intercessing]

.............

[Odd noises come from the Intercessor as they slump further down, burying their head into their hands.]

[poorlovefool]

[...He'll just grip the Intercessor's shoulder for a second, but... there's fear creeping up on him as they break into sobs. He thinks he's probably done enough for now.

There is at least, a little ways that he can give them that time.]

... Let's get back to solving this case.