Grimdark Future - A Trial of Loyalty by Dillon Olney
Tsanyao passed beneath the boughs of a blossoming tree as he entered the Royal Guard training ground. It was surrounded by beautiful gardens and lush pools.
This may be my last visit to this place, thought Tsanyao, but he shook the thought away.
Contrary to his accusers’ beliefs, Tsanyao had not violated the trust of the Royal Guard or the Sages. Although he had a deep love for his clan, he would never have sold confidential information to them.
“How could the Royal Clan think so little of me?” He shook this thought away as well.
His promotion in the Royal Guard now stood on shaky ground after the intensely political trial that he had undergone over the past several days when these accusations came to light. No verdict had been reached: the trial had ended in a deadlock.
Tsanyao had a choice before him that would require deep thought, and his best chance at calming his mind was to spend some time meditating in the training grounds, surrounded by his fellow guards.
Tsanyao looked around the grounds: A few guards were sparring in the garden, a few sitting in careful lines with legs crossed and eyes closed in meditation. Among those seated, he spotted his old friend Neming, with a furrowed brow, deep in thought. Tsanyao afforded himself a sad smile. It touched him that his own troubles would affect Neming.
He walked over to his friend and knelt beside him to quietly ask, “Might I sit next to you?”
Neming only grunted and shrugged his shoulders slightly. Tsanyao took a seat next to him, beginning his meditation.
The troubling thoughts rose in his mind like an unstoppable tide over and over again. Meditation was going to be extremely difficult today. Instead, he turned to Neming, looking forward to some friendly conversation.
“I can’t focus,” Tsanyao confessed, but Neming barely stirred - slightly shrugging his shoulders and shifting slightly to turn his body away from Tsanyao.
Tsanyao frowned in confusion, “I had hoped perhaps we could talk. It would ease my mind, though I do not wish to trouble you. It seems you are struggling with a burden as well, Neming.”
Neming let out another grunt and shifted again to turn his back fully on Tsanyao.
“Please… I could use your companionship, Neming. Why won’t you talk to me? Only yesterday, I was expecting to be promoted but now I am facing charges of treason. Is there nothing you have to say to me?”
“Your clan has led you into a difficult place. The charges of treason against them have fallen upon you as well. Now, would you have them fall upon me as well? Surely you would not want to see me named a traitor?”
Tsanyao frowned, confused by his friend’s response.
“Neming,” Tsanyao spoke carefully, “My clan and I are loyal to the Dynasty above all else. The Dynasty has chosen not to press the case against my clan, as they could see that we were innocent. Their wisdom will see my name cleared as well.”
Tsanyao saw his friend soften and the tension in his shoulders fell.
Neming turned to face Tsanyao, and said, “Forgive me, Tsanyao. It has been a troubling time for me as well.”
“I have faith in the Royal Clan. I have served them loyally and now; they will see that justice is served.”
“Yes, you have always been loyal,” Neming stated, but he didn’t seem fully convinced, “I hope that the Sages see this as well.”
“They have granted me the chance to face my accuser. Trial by combat. I am eager to prove my worth, Neming, but I do worry. I suspect the accuser is a fellow Royal Guard. ”
Neming was silent for a moment before responding, “You must do what you think is right.”
Tsanyao nodded, thinking for a while. “Trial by combat is my best chance. If I refuse, even my friends may doubt me...”
Tsanyao said with a concerned, sideways glance at Neming.
Neming stood, nodding slowly.
“Do what you think is right,” he said, lifting himself up from his meditations to leave the garden.
Tsanyao watched him go, saddened at his friend’s stiff response. After a few minutes of attempting to meditate, he stood and walked out of the garden. As he did so, he approached one of the Royal Guards.
“Tell Sage Fyefaong that I will face my accuser.”
The Royal Guard nodded, and Tsanyao felt his burden lift. He had made his decision; soon, he would face his accuser.
The next morning, Tsanyao sat in the mess hall, eating alone. A few other Royal Guards were eating and chatting as well, but Tsanyao noticed all of them gave him a wide berth. They were polite when he hailed them from across the hall, but Tsanyao could tell that they did not want to approach the “accused.”
Neming entered the hall with his meal. Upon seeing Tsanyao, he walked to him and sat down without a word, eating silently beside his companion.
“Morning, Neming. If you want some of my breakfast you are welcome to it- I don’t feel like eating today.”
Neming chewed his food silently, stone-faced.
After a moment, Tsanyao turned back to his food.
The pair sat in silence.
Usually, it would have been a comfortable quiet between them, but it felt different now.
Neming chewed his food, staring ahead.
Tsanyao tried tiny bites of his picked-at meal but mostly swirled it around on his plate.
With the trial looming in the forefront of his mind, no appetite was to be found in his stomach.
“Eat,” Neming broke the silence for a moment, catching Tsanyao off guard, “You will need your strength today.”
Tsanyao nodded and forced his breakfast down as Neming ate with him silently. At the same moment, a Sage named Fyefaong entered the mess hall, accompanied by a pair of guards. Tsanyao’s heart sank as the Sage’s eyes locked with his. The Sage motioned to the two guards to follow as he walked straight toward Tsanyao.
“Tsanyao. Neming. You are needed for the trial of the accused. Please accompany us to prepare.”
Tsanyao looked at Neming in confusion, why was Neming needed for the trial?
“Tsanyao, you have been accused of selling secrets to your clan. The evidence presented to the Royal Clan shows that the information could only have come from a Royal Guard. Furthermore,” Fyefaong paused for a moment, looking over at Neming, “Your companion here has confirmed you had access to this information.”
Tsanyao felt as if he had been punched hard in the stomach, but he quickly composed himself though he was reeling from the information. He turned to Neming, eyes wide, but his friend would not meet his gaze. Neming stared at the floor sullenly.
Tsanyao’s mind raced, How could Neming betray him like this? Lie like this? And why? Had someone pressured him into it?
Fyefaong said nothing but patiently awaited Tsanyao’s reply, “I have not betrayed the trust of the Dynasty. Neming is mistaken. I do not understand why these accusations have been brought against me but I am ready to answer them in a trial by combat, Sage Fyefaong.”
“Very well,” said the Sage as he turned to the pair of Royal Guards at his sides, “escort Tsanyao and Neming to private chambers in preparation of the trial. Each of you will find the weapon to be used in the trial there. Leave your personal weapons with me. You will not need them.”
“Neming,” Tsanyao whispered, Neming did not reply.
Tsanyao raised his voice, “Look at me, Neming!”
The Royal Guards escorting Tsanyao prepared themselves to restrain him. Neming stood for a moment in the doorframe, as if considering whether he wanted to go forward.
Tsanyao looked towards his friend.
After a moment though, he stepped through and closed the door behind him without glancing behind him.
Tsanyao looked down, and the escorting Royal Guards relaxed their stances as it was clear Tsanyao had no intention of starting a fight prematurely.
Tsanyao walked into his own small room. It was bare, save for a single spear hung on the wall. He strode the few paces to the wall while the escorting Guards closed the door behind him.
Now alone, Tsanyao picked up the weapon. It was cold to the touch. He would have to fight his friend soon. Friend. A friend who had betrayed him, had lied about him, fought beside him and even saved his life on more than one occasion.
The weapon felt strange in Tsanyao’s hands, as if weighted down with the knowledge of what he must now do.
Perhaps he could convince Neming to admit he had lied?
He did not wish to hurt his friend, but if Neming stood at the sharp end of his spear, perhaps he might finally have answers.
Tsanyao let out a heavy sigh, kneeling to face the wall, meditating with the weight of the spear in his arms.
As much as he wished there were other options, he had no choice in the matter now. He had accepted the trial and would have to face his accuser. Had he known his accuser was Neming, perhaps he would have chosen differently…
A knock on Tsanyao’s door signaled the arrival of the Fyefaong and a pair of Royal Guards.
“Are you ready, Tsanyao?”
“I am,” Tsanyao intoned, his voice sounding strange and far away. He hefted the cold, heavy weapon and strode out the door.
The Sage led him to the training fields amidst the gardens of the Royal Guard. Across the field, Neming stood, eyes downcast, weapon readied.
Fyefaong stepped between the pair, held his hands up toward both opponents, and called out in a loud voice that rang through the garden, “Tsanyao has agreed to settle this dispute through a trial by combat with his accuser, Neming.”
Fyefaong listed out the rules of the duel, “This fight may only end in one of three ways. My intervention and final verdict, an admission of guilt from either opponent, or death. If either party is found guilty, they will be at the mercy of their opponent, who shall decide their punishment. Before we begin, is there anything either of you would like to say to one another?”
Tsanyao stared across the garden at Neming, his eyes pleading for some explanation. But Neming only shook his head in silence and gestured for Tsanyao to speak.
A mix of sadness and anger flooded over Tsanyao.
He could think of nothing to say at first, but then he began to speak in a slowly building but shaky voice, “Neming, you have wounded me deeply. I do not wish to believe that you have done this by choice. Do you truly believe that I am a traitor, or is there something more at work here?”
Neming shifted uncomfortably.
His eyes met Tsanyao’s for a brief moment, his stare one of stony determination with a tinge of sadness.
“All that I do is in service to the Royal Clan,” Neming replied, “I am sorry that I must be the one to confront you, Tsanyao, but my loyalty is to them above all else.”
Fyefaong stepped back, “Let the trial begin.”
Neming sprang into action almost immediately, sprinting across the open area to Tsanyao, swinging his weapon in a wide arch as he did so. Tsanyao, still stunned by his friend’s betrayal, was almost too slow to block the attack, bringing his weapon to bear and stumbling backward at the last moment.
Tsanyao gritted his teeth, pressing back and quickly taking the offensive. Neming parried expertly, but his spear shuddered under the force of Tsanyao’s attacks.
With each swing, Tsanyao’s attacks became more brutal, and he shouted out at his friend, “Why are you lying, Neming?!”
Neming gave no response, and stepped out of the way of Tsanyao’s attack, bringing his own spear to bear and forcing it through the air in a brutal jab. Tsanyao knocked the spear away, spinning and swinging his own for Neming’s head, but Neming was too fast, his own spear brought to bear.
The spears connected, both Tsanyao and Neming reaching out and gripping the other’s weapon. The two were locked briefly in a stalemate, pressing their weapons towards the other.
“Neming, tell me why you are doing this,” Tsanyao grunted through gritted teeth.
Neming still gave no response, thrusting away from Tsanyao and leaping back to regain his footing.
Tsanyao caught a brief flicker of emotion in his opponent’s eyes. Perhaps, he thought, he does regret this.
Tsanyao advanced, his swings becoming more desperate, his control over his emotions and years of training beginning to fall away as his friend gave no response to his accusations.
As Tsanyao’s attacks became more violent, Neming’s became more controlled. Tsanyao breathed heavily and exerted more and more energy with each attack.
Meanwhile, Neming waited for his opponent to tire. Tsanyao lept forward, swinging his spear down recklessly as Neming parried it easily and sent Tsanyao stumbling backward.
Neming gained the offensive and finally spoke, pressing the tiring Tsanyao, “You are the liar, Tsanyao. Confess it!”
Tsanyao’s chest heaved, his lungs burning with each breath, “I have only ever served the Royal Clan. I would never betray the Royal Guard. You must know this, Neming!!”
“This can all be over,” Neming continued, thrusting his spear at Tsanyao, who ducked beneath the well-placed strike. “I will grant you a lenient sentence. Your betrayal was misguided, but I do not think that it merits death. As your accuser, I can spare you that fate, old friend.”
“There is no worse sentence you could give me than to be called a traitor. I have faced death many times without fear, but never have I faced treachery like yours!”
Tsanyao spat, weaving his spear through the air to parry Neming’s attacks as he spoke,“You have driven a spear through my reputation, and wounded me in the eyes of the Royal Clan. It would be better that you finish the job than to betray me like this and leave me a life in disgrace.”
Tsanyao renewed his attack, enraged by Neming’s condescending offer. He swung his spear viciously from the side, Neming’s eyes growing wide as he recognized the speed and ferocity of the attack a split second before the spear struck his own, flinging the weapon from his hands.
Tsanyao mustered all of his self-control, rotating his weapon back for a second blow, this one expertly aimed at Neming’s shoulder. The shaft of his spear slammed into his opponent, and Neming was driven to the ground by the shuddering blow, forced to kneel in front of Tsanyao. One of his hands was planted on the ground to support himself.
Tsanyao, stood back, pointing the tip of his spear just above Neming’s neck. A small, quick thrust would be the end of his treacherous ‘friend’.
But Tsanyao hesitated and looked to Fyefaong, hoping the Sage would intervene. Fyefaong merely watched impassively.
Tsanyao looked down at the kneeling Neming, and his rage faded into deepest sadness.
His friend knelt before him, totally at his mercy.
“Neming…,” Tsanyao choked out, and he could feel his emotions gripping him, his throat tightening with every word, “Neming, please, I beg you to concede. Just tell Sage Fyefaong that you were wrong, you misunderstood... anything so that I do not have to go through with this.”
Neming remained silent. He gave Tsanyao a brief look, one that surprised Tsanyao: He saw sadness in his friend's eyes rather than rage. For a moment, Tsanyao could have sworn that he saw relief in his friend’s expression.
“Neming. I offer you a final chance, rescind your accusations.” Tsanyou pleaded, looking down into Neming’s softened eyes.
Neming looked away again, turning to the Sage. Fyefaong watched intently, but gave no sign of ending the fight, seemingly fascinated by and unwilling to intervene.
“I stand by my words,” Neming replied at last.
The Sage nodded, gesturing for Neming to continue. Tsanyao wavered, his spear inches from Neming’s neck. A moment passed, but to Tsanyao it felt like an age.
Slowly, he lowered his spear, decisively tossing the weapon onto the ground and offering a hand to Neming.
“Rise then,” Tsanyao replied, “You will have to fight until you rescind your accusation or you kill me. I will not slay a defenceless foe, let alone one which I once called friend.”
Neming took Tsanyao’s arm and rose. Neming moved to get his spear slowly, turning fixing his gaze on Fyefaong as if unsure whether to continue.
Tsanyao turned from his friend to face the Sage, whom he then realized was smiling.
Then, Fyefaong spoke, “Congratulations, Tsanyao.”
Neming’s expression dropped and he exhaled a long moment, before forcing a smile, “I knew that you would pass. Forgive me, friend... If you would still call me that.”
Tsanyao looked at his friend with all the questions of the past weeks filling his face. Fyefaong confidently strode onto the field.
“Thank you Neming,” Fyefaong said, clasping the Guard on the shoulder, “You were given a difficult role, but you played with great dedication. I appreciate your service in this matter.”
Tsanyao looked back and forth between the two, dumbfounded.
“My apologies for the deception Tsanyao,” Fyefaong said somberly, “I know how difficult this test was for you; but it was precisely that: a test.”
“So, you’re saying that,” Tsanyao stuttered, “the accusations and the trial were only…”
“A facade,” The Sage finished his sentence, “Your clan has recently faced serious accusations, escaping them in part by trading upon the names of reputable members such as yourself. They put us in a difficult position, Tsanyao.”
“Your service has been above reproach, but there were questions and suspicions over your head which would have made this decision far more difficult if not for our trial today,” Fyefaong continued, “You have proven your loyalty not only to the Dynasty but to the Royal Guard. Only when I knew you were willing to lose all you had for your convictions, could I be sure that you were truly worthy of your promotion and innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Tsanyao stood in silence, looking over the garden.
Neming stepped in, smiling and clasping him on the shoulder, “It was at my recommendation that you were to be promoted in the first place, Tsanyao. The Sages advised me that I would have to go to great lengths to prove your worthiness for the position, namely by serving as a false accuser.”
Tsanyao was speechless as he dried to wrap his head around this strange turn of events.
“But,” Tsanyao said, mortified, “What if I had not been as honorable as you presumed? I could have killed you!”
Fyefaong gave a wry smile, gesturing toward Neming, who strode across the field, picked up his fallen weapon, and strode back to the Sage, handing the weapon over.
“There was little real danger,” the Sage said, gripping the spear and thrusting it straight into Neming’s neck.
Tsanyao let out a gasp of alarm, but was cut short as the spear halted right in front of Neming. Neming stood perfectly still, before exhaling for a long moment.
“You may have noticed a strange weight to the weapon,” Fyefaong barely masked his pride as he pulled the spear back, “There’s an inertial dampener, designed to render the blades useless. You could not have harmed one another with the point of the spear if you tried.”
“Perhaps, you could have beaten him for a while with the pole of the spear,” Fyefaong’s amusement shone through as Neming winced, “But I would have intervened before you left any permanent damage on your friend. Besides, Neming, you believe your friend is above such pettiness, do you not?”
“He’s proven it now,” Neming replied.
Fyefaong nodded, “He had the opportunity and refused. You have proven yourself, Tsanyao, proven yourself worthy of elevation in the Royal Guard.”
Neming stepped forward and clasped his friend’s arm tightly.
“My apologies, Tsanyao,” Neming said, holding out his other hand to him with a wide smile splayed across his face, “I cannot tell you how hard it was for me to maintain this ruse. I only wanted to give you the chance to prove yourself, even in the face of your clan’s scandal. I hope you can forgive me.”
Tsanyao exhaled slowly, and nodded. He saw his old friend once more, rather than the silent accuser moments before.
“We are and will ever continue to be bonded by our honor, and… our trust, Tsanyao said, “You sought only to aid me and obey the orders of the Royal Clan. There are times when this is difficult, but you too have proven your loyalty. I am glad to be welcome at your side again.”
Tsanyao pulled Neming in for a strong, brief embrace, brothers in arms once more.
