Game Master in Another World

A sharp knock on the bathroom door shattered the quiet. "Cain’s here to see you both," Sera called through the wood. "He’s waiting downstairs."

"I guess that is it for our bath, then," I sighed.

"Unfortunately," Illara replied, her tone brightening. "But at least we can have another one later."

We got dressed and headed downstairs, though Illara was a little slower to pull her clothes on—she was too busy watching me.

Downstairs, Cain was seated in the armchair. Faie was at the desk buried in more books, while Sera and Ash sat together on the floor in front of the hearth.

"Greetings. Sorry to bother you both, but I wanted to discuss Barnabus’s trial," Cain said plainly.

Illara perked up at the mention. "Is it happening soon?"

"Yes, tomorrow morning, actually. Lord Raven will be holding the trial for Barnabus and his accomplices."

Faie visibly winced at the word accomplices.

"He will need Ash’s testimony. Is that something you can do?" Cain asked, looking in Ash’s direction.

Ash swallowed, then gave a firm nod.

"Great. He is fairly convinced that with Ash's account and the evidence of the attempted cover-up, we may have enough to convict him."

"What fate will befall him if he is found guilty?" I asked.

"Immediate execution," Cain replied without hesitation.

Illara’s expression fell. "Can’t we show him mercy? Just a life sentence?"

"No, unfortunately. He has too many ties in the city guard. If he lives, he may use his connections to escape."

"Okay," Illara said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"With that settled, I’ll come to collect you all tomorrow," Cain said, standing up. "The trial will be first thing in the morning. I look forward to seeing you all there."

Cain left the house, and the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him. The relief of knowing that this nightmare was finally coming to an end felt amazing. But it was also unbelievable. Surely something could still go wrong to stop it.

For now, I could only hope for the best. I needed Barnabus to be found guilty tomorrow, so this bloody chapter could finally be closed.

The rest of the day was spent playing games with Sera and Ash, while Faie used the time to read everything she could get her hands on. Come evening, all of us except Faie headed out to a tavern for dinner, eager for a night where we didn’t have to cook. We decided to return to the Goose’s Gander to see what Harry had to offer.

The tavern was lively. Several patrons were already drunk, singing along to the bard, stamping their feet, and sloshing booze over the rims of their tankards. We found a quiet seat in the corner, out of the way of the revellers, and I went up to the bar to talk to Harry.

“Hi Harry. I don’t suppose we can get four of today’s special?”

Harry looked over at me briefly. “Sure. It’s been a while, Drisnil. Will you be singing for your food today?”

“No, I’ll pay this time.” I handed over the coin and headed back to our table.

“We have four of today’s special coming,” I said, sliding into my seat. “Not sure what it is, but I’m sure it will be good.”

Sera gave me a skeptical look. “You are gambling with our tastes a bit there, Drisnil…”

“Heh, I’m sure it will be fine. Illara and I have eaten here before, and the food was quite serviceable.”

Illara smiled at Sera. “If you don’t like it, I’ll eat yours for you.”

“Fine, I’ll eat it. But if it's awful, you're cooking for a week,” Sera pouted.

“You must be happy that this is all going to be over soon?” Sera asked after a moment's silence.

“Yeah, it has been a long journey,” I replied. “I’m happy for you, Ash. You might finally get justice for the family you lost twenty years ago.”

Ash nodded slowly, his eyes shining as he fought to hold back tears. Sera, noticing, gently reached out and grabbed his hand. Ash looked at her and smiled.

A barmaid brought out our complimentary beers, but Sera refused hers, asking for water instead.

“Why don't you want a beer, Sera?” Illara asked.

“I just don’t feel like it,” Sera said flatly.

“Are you sure there isn’t another reason?” Illara pressed.

“Don’t pester her, Illara. Let her keep her secrets, even if they are obvious,” I said with a smirk.

Both Sera and Ash blushed furiously.

The food arrived shortly after. It was a seared trout stew with chunks of mystery meat, but it tasted surprisingly good. Despite her earlier complaints, Sera didn’t leave a single scrap on her plate.

We finished our meals and headed home ready for a comfortable night’s sleep, after the day’s travel we were quite exhausted.

I followed Illara to bed and fell asleep quickly, holding her in my arms.

The next morning, we got up and had a quick breakfast. Faie sat at the table looking as though she was trying to read, but her eyes kept tracking over the same page again and again.

“Are you all right, Faie?” I asked.

“Yes, just fine. Why do you ask?” she responded quickly, not looking up.

“Well, that one page must be intensely interesting. You’ve read it maybe twenty times now.”

“Well, that is because… it is just incredibly complex, that is all.” Faie hurriedly flipped to the next page and began staring at that one instead.

I decided to leave her be. The tension was getting to all of us.

After a short while, Cain arrived to collect us, and the entire group headed to the courthouse. The building appeared to double as the town hall, and a massive, restless crowd had already gathered outside. The Wurmworst guards, recognizing Cain, motioned us through the heavy main doors.

Inside, the room was vast and gothic, built with cold stone floors, high vaulted ceilings, and large, imposing stone pillars. Thick wooden benches filled the gallery, packed tightly with townsfolk.

Seated at the front of the room, bound in heavy iron chains, were Barnabus and the captured guards—including Joan.

Faie’s expression pinched with fear as soon as she saw Joan seated among the accused.

We were motioned to a row of seats near the front. Jenna was already there, waiting for us. The room was chaotic, buzzing with the noise of hundreds of people all trying to get a glimpse of the proceedings.

Eventually, a side door opened. Lord Raven entered, followed by four other men dressed in expensive, tailored attire. The crowd fell dead silent as the five judges took their seats at the front, facing the room.

Lord Raven stood. “We are here to hold the trial of Barnabus for the crime of murder, and the trial of the guards seated here for the crime of accessory to murder.”

A low murmur rippled through the crowd, quickly quieting as Lord Raven raised a hand.

“The format today will be as follows: first, we will present the evidence. Then, Barnabus will have a chance to defend himself. After which, the five of us here will vote. If found guilty, the penalties will be carried out immediately.

“First, I would like to present this notebook into evidence.” Lord Raven held up Norman’s journal. “I have allowed the four other judges here to read this notebook prior to today. It details a converse with the fallen miracle cast upon the victims of the massacre. I’d like to call up Illara to witness to its veracity."

Illara stood up, her hands trembling slightly, and walked to the front of the room. She sat down in the lone wooden chair facing the gallery.

Lord Raven handed her the journal. “Could you please verify that this matches your recollection of the results of the spell?”

Illara scanned the familiar notes. “Yes, I can confirm. These all match my recollection,” she said nervously.

“And you swear on Solvarn that you are telling the truth?” Lord Raven asked.

“Yes, I do,” Illara responded solemnly.

“Thank you. Does the defendant have any questions?”

Barnabus stood up, his bound hands resting on the table before him. “Yes, I do.” He looked directly at Illara. “These are not your notes, are they?”

“No, they are Norman’s,” Illara responded.

“Where is Norman?” Barnabus sneered.

“He died.” Illara’s voice hitched, tears springing to her eyes.

“If he isn’t here to present the notes himself, how can we be sure that these are truly accurate?”

“I was there!” Illara cried, a sob breaking in her throat.

“Judging by your inability to keep calm under pressure, those could easily be false memories,” Barnabus dismissed her coldly.

A hot rage began to build in my chest. Barnabus was being entirely too cruel. Beside me, I could see Jenna’s jaw clench in anger.

“I have no further questions, my lord,” Barnabus said with arrogant confidence.

“You are dismissed, Illara. Thank you,” Lord Raven said kindly.

Illara practically ran back to the seat beside me, burying her face in her hands.

“Next, I call Drisnil to the stand to verify the authenticity of this document.”

I stood up, leaving Illara to weep, and walked to the front. I sat down in the wooden chair, my posture rigid. I was not going to break like Illara did.

Lord Raven handed me the document. I read it quickly.

“Does this match your recollection?” he asked.

“Yes,” I responded simply, glaring straight at Barnabus.

“Any questions, Barnabus?”

Barnabus stood up again, picking up a heavy tome from his table. “Your race is Nhalyri, is it not?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m not sure how that is relevant, though,” I responded, a little confused.

“Well, according to this book—” Barnabus held the tome high in the air. I recognised it instantly. It was the book Norman had written about my race. “—your people enslave and torture others for pleasure, do they not?”

“Yes, but—”

He didn’t give me a chance to finish. “And aren’t they renowned for being highly manipulative?”

“Yes, but—”

Again, he left me no room to talk. “And aren’t you an assassin?”

“Yes, but I am no longer an assassin!” I practically shouted.

Loud gasps echoed around the room. The crowd shifted uneasily.

Barnabus smiled, sitting down. “That is all I have to ask on the matter.”

Lord Raven dismissed me. I walked back to my seat, absolutely furious. He had weaponized my race and my past to expertly sully my testimony in front of the entire town.

Cain was summoned next. He verified the legitimacy of the document with a calm, steady voice.

Barnabus stood up again. “Illara is your student, correct?”

“Yes,” Cain responded.

“As such, you would do anything to help her?”

“Yes,” Cain said again.

“Including lie for her?”

“Only if it wasn’t serious.”

“So, you would lie for her, then?”

“Again, only if it wasn’t serious.”

Barnabus smirked, switching tactics entirely. “You spent a night alone with Drisnil while Illara was unconscious in the forest, didn't you?”

“Yes, we were travelling together.”

“Drisnil is very good-looking, and quite seductive, I understand. Did you have sex with her?”

Cain’s anger spiked instantly. “No! I would never cheat on my wife!”

“Well, those Nhalyri can be very persuasive, and are quite adept at using drugs. Who is to say she isn’t blackmailing you to get your testimony?”

“Those are lies! I have never had inappropriate relations with her!”

Barnabus smiled wider, sitting down. “That’s all I have, my lord.”

Cain was dismissed. As he walked back to us, he looked like he was physically restraining himself from marching over and punching Barnabus in the jaw. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder. I could hear people behind us loudly whispering about how attractive I was, and that Cain must have thought about it at least once.

Lord Raven then moved on. “Next, we have an eyewitness. Ash, could you please approach?”

Ash walked up, sat down, and faced the crowd.

“Now, Ash, you are mute, so could you please point to the man who killed your family?”

Ash pointed directly at Barnabus, his expression hardening.

“Was there another man taking part?”

Ash nodded.

“Is that man still alive?”

Ash shook his head.

“Was he Percy, Barnabus’s lieutenant?”

Ash nodded once more.

“Thank you, Ash. Barnabus, do you have any questions?”

Barnabus stood up and began to speak to Ash in a mocking, overly sweet baby voice, as though he were talking to a toddler. “So, you have been mute for twenty years now?”

Ash nodded, a flicker of fear growing on his face.

“Why can’t you speak?” Barnabus asked.

Ash simply looked at him, his jaw tight.

“Is it too hard to speak?”

Ash nodded.

Barnabus turned to the judges, his tone suddenly sharp and dismissive. “This boy is clearly too simple-minded to speak, so how can we trust anything he remembers? He may have even been coached by Drisnil.”

Ash began shaking his head frantically, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Barnabus cooed back at Ash. “That nasty lady can’t hurt you if I’m Captain. I can protect you.” Barnabus sat down, looking immensely pleased with himself.

“That’s enough!” Lord Raven scolded him.

“Then I’m done,” Barnabus said in a satisfied voice.

The crowd was practically unable to stay quiet now. I heard someone behind me mutter, “I bet that Nhalyri could have manipulated that poor simple boy.”

Sera looked absolutely furious. Ash stood up and retreated to his seat, looking utterly defeated.

Now, I really wanted to see Barnabus killed. Slowly, if possible.

“Finally, we have testimony from Joan, who was ordered to try and cover up the defendant's crimes.”

Joan walked up to the front, her heavy chains rattling with every step.

“Joan, what were your orders?” Lord Raven asked.

“To intercept a faction that was planning to attack Ravencrest, and wipe them out completely.”

“Who were the supposed faction?”

“Jenna, Sera, Faie, Illara, Drisnil, Cain, and Theo.”

“What actually happened?”

“We were defeated and ended up surrendering.”

“How many of your unit were lost?”

Joan looked down, her voice thick with regret. “Fifteen.”

“And what did you come to learn about your targets?”

“That they were due to testify in this very trial against Percy and Barnabus.”

“Thank you. Your witness, Barnabus.” Lord Raven sat back down.

Barnabus stood, his eyes narrowing. “Have you wanted a promotion in your guard unit?”

“Yes, but—”

Again, Barnabus didn’t let his witness finish. “Does it benefit your chances of promotion having me convicted?”

“No,” Joan responded angrily.

“Percy told me that you desperately wanted at least the Lieutenant position, and you even offered yourself to me the other day to try and achieve it.”

Joan’s anger flared. “You are lying! I'd never sleep with a man like you!”

Satisfied, Barnabus sat down again. “That is all I have for that slut,” he sneered.

“Please watch how you refer to people in this court,” Lord Raven admonished him sharply.

The rest of the captured guards were asked to stand one by one. Barnabus tore into each of them, systematically arguing that they all had some ulterior motive for testifying against him.

“For my final witness, I’m calling on Percy.”

The crowd erupted into shocked conversation as one of the Wurmworst guards stepped forward and placed Percy’s severed head on the table, its unblinking, dead eyes staring out at the room.

“Jenna, could you please cast converse with the fallen?” Lord Raven asked over the noise.

Jenna walked to the front of the room, closed her eyes, and cast the miracle. A faint, eerie glow settled over the remains.

Lord Raven leaned forward. “Percy, did you and Barnabus murder a camp of civilians twenty years ago?”

A hollow, detached voice echoed from the dead lips. “Yes.”

“Did you and Barnabus order these guards to try and cover up the crime?”

The voice responded again. “Yes.”

“Final question. Were there women and children in that camp of civilians?”

“Yes.” As soon as the final word left its mouth, the spell broke, and the head crumbled entirely into a pile of grey dust.

“Any questions, Barnabus?”

Barnabus looked genuinely flustered for the first time. He scrambled for an angle. “Could you have cast puppetry on that head?” he asked Jenna.

“No, I don’t know of any miracle like that.”

He thought for a moment, his eyes darting toward me. “And you like Drisnil?”

“No. I would rather she lived nowhere near me,” Jenna responded simply.

Barnabus sank back into his chair. “I have no further questions,” he muttered, finally sounding defeated.

“If there is no more evidence to bring before the court, we will take a vote,” Lord Raven announced.

Each judge wrote their verdict on a small slip of paper and handed it to Lord Raven. He added his own piece to the pile, then began to read them one by one.

“Not guilty.”

Frantic murmurs began to erupt in the room.

“Not guilty.”

The noise swelled, panic and outrage rippling through the crowd.

“Guilty.”

People began hushing each other so they could hear.

“Guilty.”

Lord Raven picked up the final piece of paper, slowly unravelling it. The entire room held its breath.

“Guilty.” Lord Raven looked up, his gaze locking onto Barnabus. “By majority vote, you have been found guilty of murder. Your punishment will be death, to be carried out immediately.”

Barnabus began shouting wildly as the Wurmworst guards hauled him up from his seat. “I paid three of you bastards one hundred gold a piece! You traitors! I will haunt you all from the afterlife!”

He was dragged violently to the block, a wooden bucket kicked into place beneath his chin.

The executioner stepped forward, took aim, and severed Barnabus's head with one clean, brutal swing. It fell into the bucket with a heavy thud.

The finality of it all didn’t seem real. It couldn’t just be over, could it? I looked over at Illara. Her eyes were red from crying, but she simply smiled and threw her arms around me in a tight hug.

“We did it, Drisnil. We got justice for all those who couldn’t seek it themselves.”

Lord Raven commanded the room back to silence. “Now for the next vote. Whether these guards are guilty of being accomplices to murder, for which the penalty would be death.”

Beside me, Faie looked as though she was about to be sick.

Each judge wrote down their vote. Lord Raven gathered the slips and read them out.

“Guilty.”

“Not guilty.”

“Not guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Not guilty.” Lord Raven lowered the papers. “By majority vote, you have been found not guilty. You are all free to go.”

The Wurmworst guards stepped forward, unlocking the heavy iron chains. The moment Joan was free, she sprinted toward the gallery, grabbing Faie and sweeping her up into her arms. Faie was crying tears of absolute joy as Joan held her tight and planted a massive kiss on her lips.

Watching them, the realisation that we had actually succeeded finally began to wash over me. As I sat back in the hard wooden pew, I reflected on the heavy cost it had taken to get here, and asked myself the only question that mattered: was it worth it?

The answer, unequivocally, was yes.

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