Chapter 2 - The Judgement

In the cold and dingy confines of the holding facility, My mind raced with thoughts of escape. The dimly lit cell reeked of despair, and the claustrophobic walls seemed to close in on me. My fingers traced imaginary patterns on the cold stone floor as I muttered incantations under my breath, testing the limits of my magic against the walls. They were sturdy, but even the sturdiest walls had cracks, I just had to find them. They had taken off my cuffs, but the bars of the holding cell I was in was made of deritium, I could not use my magic on it. I had to find another way.

As I plotted my escape, I couldn't help but reflect on the choices that had led me to this point.

I was supposed to be laying low, I was supposed to be out of sight, but I just couldn't help myself. I wondered if my insatiable curiosity had been a blessing or a curse, if my insistence on meddling in the affairs of others had ultimately brought my downfall.

But deep down, I held onto the belief that my actions, though unorthodox, were guided by a sense of justice, a desire to ensure that the magic I was dispensing was used for the greater good. Magic could be used for good and evil and I had tried to ensure that mine was at the very least used for good.

Later that night, after hours being in the holding cell, I found a crack. I applied the right amount of pressure and with a whispered incantation, the cell's wall gave way and crumbled. It was louder than I wanted it to be, but there were no guards in sight and I wanted to make a swift run for it.

However, my escape was short-lived. As I made my way through the dimly lit passages, the echoing footsteps of guards grew louder, and before I could react, I found myself surrounded by stern-faced officers, their weapons drawn. Everything they were holding was made of solid deritium. If I tried to fight them with magic, it would be futile. And unfortunately hand to hand combat would be impossible since I was grossly outnumbered.

"Give it up witch," one of the officer sneered, his voice dripping with triumph. "You thought you could outwit us?"

My chest heaved as I glared at her captors, my voice laced with defiance. "Well... it is worth a try, it's not like you're all that bright."

"You're relentless aren't you?! It's a good thing we'll have time to break you. You're going to stay locked up forever."

Forever?! The thought of that was scary, but I didn't let that show.

"Forever?! Won't I at least get a fair trial?"

The officer laughed, he sounded bitter and mocking.

"Fair trial?! You're known as the Wicked Witch of the Wild West. We have a long lists of your crimes, do you really think you deserve even a trial?"

Ah yes, the nickname that was the bane of my existence, the one that started it all, it was finally going to be my downfall. They cuffed me with deritium and took me away.

...........

RHYS'S POV

I sat in my office poring over documents. They were all bills that needed my assent or rejection before the end of the day and there were a lot of them to go through. Bills, bills bills, it seemed like everybody wanted something from me, everybody wanted something from the Governor. My special advisors would only give opinions and advises that would be beneficial to them, the lawmakers would make laws without a care for the citizens, and I was tasked in making sure the people were not forgotten in this battle of interests. And to be quite honest, it was an exhausting task.

I was exhausted and my mind was barely on the documents before me, other thoughts occupied my head.

In the luxurious expanse of my grand office, I sat behind an intricately carved desk, surrounded by shelves laden with books and books. Law books, government books, books about leadership, various maps and books outlining the territories and the whole continent.

My fingers traced over the important documents, my eyes scanning the words with an acute focus. At my side stood an old man named Gabriel, my Chief of operations, a venerable advisor in an impeccable black suit, whose silvered hair and wise countenance marked the passage of many years in service to the State. Gabriel had been the chief of staff to the last governor and had served him from the beginning to the end of his tenure, in fact, a large majority of the people serving in my cabinet used to work for the former governor, I had kept them because of the immense knowledge and the experience that I thought they had possessed, but I grossly overestimated their importance.

"Governor Amman," Gabriel's voice resonated with a hint of urgency, "the resistance in the Narvan region is growing out of control. The Narvan fighters have become more organized, and reports suggest they are gaining support from unexpected quarters."

I looked up, my stormy eyes looking at Gabriel.

"I can imagine... I saw the latest news, they set fire to one of one of our factories."

"And that's not all, they've been openly asking for recruits too!"

Gabriel exclaimed.

"I know you are preoccupied with many many things Governor, but this issue deserves more attention."

"Hnmmm...."

I murmured as I flipped the page of a file I was holding. I knew the threat the resistance posed, but I didn't see them as a serious terrorist group. They had existed for quite a while now and they barely made notable impacts, but now, they were getting stronger and they demanded to be noticed.

"Governor, we cannot afford to ignore this any longer. The unrest is spreading like wildfire, and the Narvan fighters threaten the stability of our empire," Gabriel continued, his tone laced with a mixture of concern and determination.

I sighed softly, my fingers tapping thoughtfully on the desk's polished surface. "You are right. I know the resistance is a menace and we just need to quell it before it gets huge."

"I've also been thinking of the best way to go about it..."

I said as I trailed off, deep in thoughts.

"I was thinking of creating a special task force to address the issue, especially since the resistant fighters are growing bolder and bolder by the day."

Gabriel nodded in agreement, but he looked like he was unsure of what I was telling him.

"And this task force, who would be in it?"

I shrugged.

"Don't worry about that Gabriel. I'll put the team together myself."

"And what of the marriage alliance proposal, Governor? Your mother's suggestion can resolve the crisis and benefit us. A marriage alliance with the Rusa Dynasty could bring us the support we need. Joining hands with them will open many doors for us."

"They also have a very impressive naval fleet and we know that Narvan is close to the water, the fighters would definitely be operating there... we can use the Rusa's Dynasty naval fleet to our advantage."

A wistful smile tugged at my lips, my thoughts briefly escaping the confines of my office. "Yes, Gabriel, my mother's suggestion had been on my mind all day. I will arrange a meeting with the Governor of the Rusa Dynasty to discuss this alliance and how it can benefit the both of us."

...........

GEMMA'S POV

I found myself trapped within a cell, a captive of my own circumstances. With a determined gleam in my eyes, I spent the next three days plotting my escape, my mind a labyrinth of strategies and contingencies.

I was lost in thought thinking about my escape plan when an officer, stern and unyielding, approached the prison cell, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. "Gemma Bracken," he intoned, his voice cold, "You will go to trial. Your case is one of the special cases the Governor would be handling himself. Since you're a repeats offender, he will decide judgement on you."

My gaze locked onto the officer's, defiance etched into every line of my expression. "And what does the illustrious Governor Amman have in store for me?" I retorted, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"The Governor will decide your fate," the officer replied, his tone heavy with implication. "Given his history with your kind, I wouldn't hold out much hope."

A flicker of anger surged within my chest, mingling with the bitterness that had taken root. If the Governor was deciding my fate, then I had no hope again.The memory of a witch's hex on Rhys Amman's father, seven years ago, loomed like a shadow over my new predicament. It was said that the Amman family had greatly disliked witches after that incident, going as far as keeping them far way from their environment and not employing any them to work in Governor Rhys Amman's cabinet.

"I think I'd rather be hanged than wait for whatever cruel punishment the Governor has for me," I shot back, my voice laced with a mix of defiance and resignation.

The police officer's gaze held a hint of sympathy. "Time will tell, witch. The Governor's judgment will be final."