A Gamer's Guide 380

“Sounds good! Great work, Hum. It’s amazing you were able to convince him without even—”

Ignoring whatever Lion was saying, Ester went over and burrowed herself in Gravy’s arms, who knew her well enough (because she had done this so many times) to just hold her instead of asking what was wrong and other ungood questions. He was good to hug for that reason, but he was also big and soft and cuddly, like a teddy bear. Since he was their healer, the most uncomfortable thing he wore was a chainmail, but it wasn’t as bad as Lion’s armor, so it was okay. She hugged him and she cried a bit but then after some time she felt okay again. Clambering out of his arms, she paused only to allow him to pat her on the back, which was fine even if he was a little too strong. 

“I need to talk to him more, but you guys should do what I said or else things might turn out bad I think,” she mumbled at them, heading for the door again. 

“Sure thing, Hum!” was Lion’s reply,

“Don’t overwork yourself,” was Ross’,

“Take care,” was Gravy’s, and…

“Okay,” was Kitty’s. She spent an extra two seconds looking at him, trying to figure out if she was doing the right thing. In the end, she didn’t figure anything out, and instead spent an extra five seconds wondering what the right thing was and if it even existed. But thinking more about it while staring intensely at Kitty might not have been great, so after a total of seven seconds looking at him, she turned around, knocked on the door, and entered too fast to the point where Mr Usher didn’t have time to open it for her. Mentally, she updated her internal times I disrespected Mr Usher today to five.

Inside, she found Mr Judge all alone in his study. Detective thought: the other two must have left through the door on the right that leads to the withdrawing room. Cruelty of life: she would never know. 

Now, though, the other armchairs by the fire were all empty, so she could sit in them. Her anxiety about presuming things flared up (what if he yells at me for sitting in them without asking like pappa) and she froze in place, forgetting even to announce her entrance, which was a big no-no. She didn’t know which internal counter to update though, since this could be an insult to either Mr Usher or Mr Judge. 

Both? she considered, briefly. 

But then the ever-nice Mr Judge smiled and waved to the chair opposite his. “Go on, Iester. I am very excited to hear for what you have used my voice.”

“Thank you, yes,” she said, going across the floor and over to the chair to sit. But it wasn’t as comfortable as it looked. The chairs and beds and couches in Purgatory never were. And now Mr Judge was looking at her with great big interest in his eyes. All of a sudden, her mind drew a complete blank. Which part of the story was supposed to go first? The part about how they hadn’t found the dragon, but that they had found a fellow human? Or did he need the backstory of the Hyrru-Ettric Archjudge’s letter? But he seemed most interested in what had happened just now, which was the final part of the tale. Thoughts spinning, she began to remember how violently she had disliked Memento because it was told in such a confusing weird way. 

“Begin wherever you’d like,” he said. “I am in no hurry to have the honourable Juriates back in here.”

“I see, okay,” Ester said, her unkempt thoughts briefly sticking out to question if what he said could be considered badmouthing and in such a case what moral ramifications her role as accomplice might have, but then she remembered that her actual troubles were entirely unrelated and she had to keep her head neat or else her thinking would spoil. “You received a message from Archjudge Reikes of Hyrru-Ettric.”

Halfway to sipping from his cup of margine, Mr Judge stiffened entirely, like he’d been abruptly replaced by a big Mr Judge-shaped rock. He lowered it from his lips, looked at Ester, and smiled in this weird strained way that he did when he was pretending not to be upset. “Oh? Please, do tell.”

“Okay, um, one moment…” It took a little time to find the message because she’d been too stupid and slow to remember to prepare in advance (stupid stupid stupid) but once she did she got to reading it aloud, as she was supposed to, translating it from the written Norwegian into Aetongue as she did. “Honorable Judge Ramthreig of Bramtown, it is my displeasure to inform you that the honorable Archjudgess Lilimum of Yoriette was correct in the predictions made regarding our current Emperor, Hark. Too young, yes, and too zealous. 

Now, both of these have come to a head as he has denounced all that is rational and just, calling for war with our southern friends and neighbors of Acheron in defence of a human presenting itself as a god—the so-called god of hope. As the venerable king Simel, Blessed of Three put it, we will instead call it anathema of hope, in ridicule and condemnation. The Emperor’s reasoning is ridiculous and lacks all proper veneration to the one truth that this country is founded upon: the sanctity of law. 

As you may recall, I presided as head Archjudge of the Grand Imperial Verdite at the trial of that abominable creature. I know its murderous gaze and slithering voice. You, too, must recall the moment when the mask it had made of the poor Princess Swee-Swee came undone, revealing it in its true, agonizing horror?

It was the opinion of the Grand Imperial Verdite, as approved by the Goddess of Law, that the only just sentence for the creature was execution. To now undo this sentence under the pretext that the accused can now no longer be holden to the laws of mortals is an affront not only to the ever-divine Goddess of Law, but likewise to the late Emperor and all others who have been made to suffer the inglory of finding demise at the hands of the creature. 

The Emperor has made himself an enemy of the Gods, blessed be Their multitude, and his people, whose common sense he now attempts to pervert. 

As member of the Shourum Regional Verdite and presiding Judge of Bramtown, you are hereby called to arm your people and join myself, the honorable Archjudgess Lilimum of Yorette, and the honorable Archjudge Gun of Limum in our divinely appointed resistance against the Emperor’s foolishness. 

I will expect your reply by nightfall.

Your devoted friend and neighbor,

Veridum ipsu allt,

Archjudge Reikes of Hyrru-Ettric.”

Because Ester had good diction and had been praised many times for talking so well, she didn’t feel too worried that the look of absolute unbridled fear that was now twisting and shaping Mr Judge’s face into a lot of other faces was because she’d talked badly. It was probably something else. Since she was his only proxy, she also knew that it wasn’t because he was so upset that she hadn’t read the enemy-description thing at the end either, since that would require him to know it existed. At the moment, she didn’t feel like it was much needed. He seemed to have gotten caught on something else instead.

“Oh,” he said, very softly, like she wasn’t supposed to hear it. “Oh, dear Goddess.”

“So, um…” And now, she had to find a way to add the second part of the story to everything. The second part about how she had met the so-called anathema of hope and kind of sort of invited him inside because he honestly looked like a nice guy not a bad guy at all. In truth, though, she didn’t know why he was considered a bad guy. The message didn’t state it and the Emperor’s general declaration that she’d read to him earlier in the day didn’t say it either, so she didn’t know why anyone would be mad at him. It must have been bad for him to go on trial, though. The Grand Imperial Verdite was the big one, too. If she ever got to visit the imperial capital, she would love to visit. She only had to fix three Ps, so she felt pretty sure that at least one relevant church would be in the capital. Or maybe one of her friends’ quests needed them to go there? That would work, too. They had all promised to stick together and not split up in purgatory, so she knew they wouldn’t leave her behind all on her own. Though, if they did, that would be sad. Thinking about sad things made Ester sad, but then she remembered that she was supposed to be coming up with a way to tell Mr Judge that they had a new visitor, and even though she must have been thinking wiry things for at least a minute, he still hadn’t said anything. “Mr Judge?”

“Civil war,” he muttered. “War with Acheron we could handle. This city is too far from all of that. We wouldn’t have seen any of it. But civil war? This region borders Darum. The honorable Archjudge Benethic of Pieut e’Oma was not mentioned among our allies.” His hands were hugging together into a tight ball, knuckles turning pale and his eyes staring at them like they weren’t his. “They’ll destroy us. By law, they will end all of us.”

“Um.”

“And you,” he said, looking up at her, maybe now remembering that she existed (and had more to say) or maybe only that he wasn’t alone. “You’ll have to go. Take your friends with you. Go… go anywhere.”

“Mr Judge? Could I say something?”

His hands were trembling even though he was gripping them so hard. “Yes, Iester?”

“Okay so there’s kind of something I want to mention but first I sort of need to clarify something,” Ester said, trying her best to sort everything in her head even though she knew it was a practical impossibility. “How loyal are you to Hyrru-Ettric and, um, how much do you hate this hope guy?”

Though she couldn’t fathom why, Mr Judge cracked a smile. “What a time to be making jokes, my friend.”

“Right yeah but that isn’t really an answer?”

His hands stopped trembling. Leaning out, she watched in mild curiosity as a change seemed to come over him, altering the angle of his brows and adding an almost incredulous quirk to his lips. “If that’s the way you feel, then I would have to ask you to use your silencing spell.”

“Okay,” Ester said. Silence, silence… That was on her left index finger, yes. She recalled it. Sending a bit of divinity into that finger, she cast the spell. 

<Silence.>

An invisible membrane spread across the room, filling out every nook and cranny to instantly bring nice, lovely quiet. It even silenced Mr Usher, making it so that now neither she nor Mr Judge could hear or be heard by him. The wind had stopped whining outside the window, and the faint conversation from the withdrawing room had been entirely muted. Nobody could hear them, aside from the gods. 

It was one of her favorite spells because if she did it right then nobody would know she had used it and she could sit in a crowded room without having to hear all the nasty chatter going about like a big drone of bees and wasps and anything else that buzzed with a terrible din. She had used her 20th floor wish to the Administrator of the Easy Difficulty to get it, and it had been the best wish she’d made so far. Oh, and it was also good for secrecy.

Leaning forward, Mr Judge put his hand on her shoulder. Normally she would mind, but not with him, because he was okay. “Look me in the eyes, Iester.”

She didn’t like to do that, so she pretended to when she really looked at the bridge of his nose.

“I need you to tell me what happened. Can you do that, Iester?” 

In something of a flash, Ester recalled what Kitty had done earlier when Lion tried to touch him and had instead gone right through. That had been pretty cool, she decided. Being able to disappear seemed like a dope power. That had been her dream superpower as a kid: invisibility. That, and shapeshifting. As she recalled that, she started speaking, recounting everything that had happened. Then, in the end, she noted, very seriously, “But I really don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. Sure he was a little standoffish and looked like a wet weasel but he was nice.”

By the time she had finished recounting everything, Mr Judge had put his head in his hands and didn’t seem like was about to say anything at all. Maybe her silence spell had started affecting him? Sometimes it could do that when she wasn’t careful enough but it hadn’t been a problem in over a month. “Mr Judge?”

“And he’s in the lounge, right now?” came Mr Judge’s voice from down in his hands. It took a little moment for Ester to register it as his, since it sounded so strange. 

“Yeah, should be,” she said, once she remembered how to speak.

Abruptly to the point of spooking Ester, Mr Judge flew to his feet, reminding her of a puppet on strings being picked up. He looked as dead and odd as one, too. 

“Alright, then,” he said, his eyes flashing in ways she didn’t like. “Let’s go meet him.”