Jeremiah`s stomach churned from the moment he awoke the next morning and realized what day it was. He picked at his bread and cheese until Delilah arrived to collect him. She tried to display an air of confidence, but he noticed her expression settled into grim determination as they left the prison.

　　It was raining, slightly heavier than a drizzle. Delilah and Jeremiah were escorted through the street by a dozen heavily armed guards. At first Jeremiah assumed the guards were meant to contain him, but as they approached the austere courthouse, he realized they were just as likely meant to dissuade rash actions by the public. The street near the courthouse was packed with onlookers, jostling for a chance to glimpse the evil wizard on his condemned march. Some performed superstitious gestures meant to ward off evil, a few shouted obscenities as he passed. Most just watched.

　　One woman shoved her way through the crowd. "Necromancer!" she cried. "My husband, Necromancer! I need you to bring him back! Necromancer, please!" She was restrained by a pair of guards as Jeremiah climbed the courthouse steps.

　　Even under the circumstances, the Hall of Justice was impressive. Composed almost entirely of marble, the courtroom was cold and unyielding. A massive statue of a man with severe features and hopeful eyes dominated the space of the huge entry hall. He wielded an axe in one hand and a scepter in the other. Jeremiah recognized the statue as the god Jalus, with dominion over contracts, order, and justice. Jeremiah bowed his head in silent prayer as they passed.

　　A low murmur rose from the hundreds of well-dressed people crowded into the courtroom`s benches as Jeremiah made his way towards the front. There, seven podiums towered over a pulpit. Delilah directed Jeremiah to a closed-in area beside the pulpit, and he turned to face the crowd. His breath caught as he scanned the further hundreds of people who filled the balconies lining the upper level, less distinguished than those on the lower floor but no less eager for the trial to begin. All these people, just to see him sentenced. Then he spotted Bruno and Allison, seated on the bottom floor. They smiled when they saw him looking, and Bruno flashed him a thumbs up. Jeremiah felt a mite braver.

　　"All rise for the Seven Judges!" said the bailiff. The shuffling of a thousand standing feet accompanied the entrance of five men and two women through seven different doors, each one positioned behind a podium. The judges simultaneously approached their podiums, their black robes billowing out as they ascended the narrow spiral steps. They took their seats as one, and all seven banged gold capped wooden rods on their podiums three times.

　　"Justice. Order. Law," they declared in unison. The people of the courtroom sat down. One of the judges, an elf with thin golden tattoos stenciled around his eyes, spoke with practiced authority.

　　"Jeremiah Thorn. We have heard the testimony of your counsel, your friends, witnesses, and experts. We have found you guilty of the following charges: performing acts of necromancy, corpse tampering, public endangerment through use of magic, and destruction of property through use of magic. You have been afforded a chance to have others speak on your behalf so that we might know the measure of the man we are sentencing." The judge looked toward Delilah. "Counselor Fortune, you may proceed."

　　Delilah rose from her seat. "Thank you, Judge Lannis. I invoke the rights of Allison Allday." Her voice carried across the crowded courtroom with crystal clarity.

　　Allison marched to the pulpit like she had just been challenged to a duel. She glared up at the judges.

　　"Ms. Allday," said the judge on the end, a wizened gnome, "I hope we can expect proper decorum today, as befitting this house of law."

　　Allison continued to glare. "Yup."

　　Delilah made her way before the pulpit. "Ms. Allday, you served in the army of Dramir, did you not?"

　　"I did."

　　"Was it a particularly exemplary service?"

　　"That`s not for me to decide."

　　"Let me rephrase. Would you tell us of any awards, honorifics, or titles you received during you time?"

　　Allison recited, "I earned the rank of Master of Arms, I was awarded the Medal of Valorous Action, three Commendations for Exemplary Service, six Blood Chevrons, and the Golden Spearhead."

　　"Ms. Allday, can you describe what you are able to assume about Mr. Thorn given your observations of him on the night of the fire?"

　　"I certainly can!" said Allison fiercely. "I saw a man who knew he`d get jail or worse if he did what he had to do to save those people. I also saw him act without hesitation or regard for his own safety. I saw a man, who I previously considered to be a misguided but otherwise good person, make the hard choice to sacrifice himself to protect the innocent from a grisly death. Then I saw that good man—no, that hero get his name dragged through the mud—"

　　"Thank you, Ms. Allday," Delilah interrupted, but it was like trying to stop the tide.

　　"—and laws created just to punish him! For stopping people from burning to death! Have any of you ever been burned so bad you thought the pain would never stop!?" Allison pointed towards the judges` podiums, ignoring Delilah`s waving for her attention. "I HAVE! If you had, you`d be honoring this man for saving children from a grisly death!"

　　"Ms. Allday!" shouted one of the judges. "Your opinion of the process of law is not something we are—"

　　"FUCK YOU!" Allison said. She was red in the face and clutching the rails of the pulpit. "I will NOT stand idly by while a good man is persecuted. They were already dead! No one suffered from their creation! I swear by Jalus, if you—"

　　"Allison!" Delilah reached across the pulpit rail to grab Allison`s shoulder and forcibly turn her away from the judges. "Thank you, Ms. Allday, for your commendable service and for your time here today."

　　Allison growled, but stomped off the pulpit. Bruno, for his part, was in hysterics in all but sound. He gnawed at his fist while he rolled in his seat, tears in his eyes. Allison dropped back into the seat beside him, stone-faced.

　　The courtroom was dead quiet. Jeremiah realized his jaw was hanging open. To have heard from Deilah that Allison spoke in his defense was one thing, to watch her berate the judges to their faces was entirely another. If he was executed, part of him could die happy knowing Allison Allday was angry about it.

　　Delilah rubbed her eyes for a moment, muttering to herself, then took a breath to regain her composure. "I invoke the rights of Professor Gortanan."

　　A scholarly dwarf made his way towards the pulpit. He was old, but his movements were smooth and measured, a dwarf who would not be hurried by anyone else`s schedule. It took several minutes for him to cross the room, climb the steps of the pulpit, and turn towards Delilah expectantly.

　　"Professor Gortanan," said Delilah, "would you please describe to the court your area of expertise?"

　　Professor Gortanan bowed his head. "My specialties are the studies of law and philosophy. I have been a teacher for 98 years, and in this room I count four judges and one counselor among former students of mine."

　　Delilah betrayed a small smile at being included by him. "Professor Gortanan, my client, Mr. Thorn, has been charged of performing acts of necromancy. Can you provide the legal definition of necromancy?"

　　"I`m afraid I cannot, Counselor Fortune. There is no legal definition of necromancy."

　　One of the judges stood. "Counselor Fortune, this trial is an opportunity for you to provide accounts regarding the nature of your client, not to attack the laws your client is being tried under!"

　　"I understand, Judge Morton," said Delilah, "but I assure you I`m leading toward something important, if you will allow me to proceed."

　　The judge sat, frowning, but waved his hand to continue.

　　Delilah turned back to the dwarf. "Professor Gortanan, would you know necromantic magic if you saw it?"

　　"I certainly would not."

　　"Do you believe that any non-expert would recognize necromancy if they saw it?"

　　"I certainly do not."

　　"Interesting!" Delilah raised her voice, although it already reached every corner of the courtroom. "If, hypothetically, a law required an expert`s assessment at the very moment the law was broken in order to be sure it had, in fact, been broken, such a law would be very difficult to enforce, wouldn`t it?"This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

　　"Sounds like a tricky one, to be sure," said Professor Gortanan, his eyes twinkling.

　　Judge Morton stood, but Delilah raised her voice so that it rang off the walls. "That is particularly interesting! Professor Gortanan, you would think a law so circumstantial and so complex that only an expert could testify to it ever having been broken, would not only be nearly unenforceable, but would be considered ridiculous and irresponsible?" she practically shouted.

　　Judge Morton interrupted. "Counselor Fortune! You will not disgrace the court wit—"

　　"It is of my opinion you are correct, Counselor Fortune. However, Hubert is correct—this line of questioning is not relevant to the character of the accused," said Professor Gortanan. He did not raise his voice, but the very act of him speaking silenced Judge Morton.

　　"I now see that you are correct, Professor! Thank you for enlightening me. My apologies to the judges. It`s certainly not up to me or anyone else here to determine whether the law influencing my client`s sentencing makes no sense at all. You may return to your seat." Delilah turned towards the crowd. "I now invoke the rights of Mrs. Calis Jarraka."

　　As the aged Professor Gortanan plodded back to his seat, he was passed by a dwarven woman wearing a black dress and a somber onyx tiara. As the woman reached the pulpit, Jeremiah noticed her eyes were watery. She looked bedraggled and sickly thin.

　　Delilah`s tone became gentle. "Mrs. Jarraka, please share with the court how your late husband was involved with the events of this trial."

　　Mrs. Jarakka sniffed and produced a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes. "My husband was Natgrik Jarraka, and he—" she choked a little—"he died in the fire."

　　Delilah nodded solemnly. "Was he involved in any other way?" Mrs. Jarraka shuddered a little and looked at Jeremiah, but he couldn`t understand what he saw on her face. Revulsion? Pity? Anger? It looked like a mix of all three.

　　"Natgrik was one of the people that was&changed."

　　Delilah continued to nod with sympathy. "Mrs. Jarraka, I understand this is hard for you, but I have to ask you something. Do you think your late husband would have been upset by what happened to him after he had passed? If we could ask him now?"

　　Mrs. Jarraka`s head whipped towards Jeremiah, and she looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes, "C-can you do that? Can you ask him questions? Can you speak with the dead?"

　　Jeremiah shook his head. It was a common misconception of necromancy, but he hated seeing the light of her hope fade.

　　"I`m afraid we`ll need you to speak on behalf of those who cannot, Mrs. Jarraka," said Delilah.

　　Mrs. Jarraka was quiet for a few moments. Jeremiah could see his own nervousness reflected in Delilah as the woman considered her answer.

　　At last, Mrs. Jarraka spoke. "Yes, I`m sure he would have been greatly upset! His body can`t be viewed by the family anymore. He`s only bones now!" There was a gasp in the courtroom and the blood drained from Delilah`s face.

　　"But&" Mrs. Jarraka continued, "he would have said it was for the best, to save those people. He knew the boy of the family, Aloomus I think his name is, and was quite fond of him. Yes, I`m very sure my Natgrik would have been proud to serve his friends, even in death. I`m proud as well! A dwarf that is able to be useful even in death? That`s indeed a noble thing!" There was a murmur from the crowd as many other dwarves nodded.

　　The color returned to Delilah`s face and she thanked Mrs. Jarraka before ushering her down and calling the next witness. "I now invoke the rights of Harwick Featherfall."

　　A tall elven man limped to the pulpit. His neck and hands were covered in recent burns. Jeremiah realized the man was one of the people his skeletons had saved from the fire. Harwick looked up at the elven judge, Lannis, and said something in Elvish that Jeremiah couldn`t understand. The judge repeated the same phrase back to Harwick.

　　"Mr. Featherfall," asked Delilah, "Can you please tell the court about your feelings towards Mr. Thorn?"

　　Harwick nodded and spoke confidently. "Mr. Thorn saved the lives of my family and me. That`s worth everything to me." He then spoke directly to Jeremiah. "Thank you, Mr. Thorn."

　　"Do you have any reservations about the method with which my client saved your family?" asked Delilah.

　　"I don`t care how he did it," said Harwick. "I was scared when I saw the, uh&" He glanced at Delilah, who nodded for him to continue, "when the, uh, recently departed entered the room we were trapped in, but I knew they were trying to help us. Well, I knew after a minute."

　　"Would you consider the actions of Mr. Thorn to be evil?" asked Delilah.

　　"No, of course not! The man saved my children! I`m in his debt from this day forward. Mr. Thorn, if you ever have need of a cartographer, you need only say the word!"

　　"Thank you, Mr. Featherfall," said Delilah. "You may return to your seat." She waited moment as the court digested the most recent testimony, then turned towards Jeremiah and mouthed, "Ready?"

　　Jeremiah nodded. Seeing a person he`d saved and hearing his gratitude had kindled a special glow in his chest. It filled him with confidence.

　　"I now invoke the rights of the accused! Jeremiah Thorn!"

　　Jeremiah felt brave as he approached the steps of the pulpit. All of those people had spoken in his defense. He felt righteous. Despite the pounding in his chest, he walked as tall as he could, showing the judges and crowd that he would face his sentencing without cowardice.

　　Delilah had no questions for him, she only invited him to speak. Straight backed and staring at the podiums with what he hoped was righteous indignation, he did.

　　"Judges of the high court," Jeremiah said, "I want you to know one simple thing: I do not regret what I did. I knew what would happen to me, but I will not sit by while people die if I can save them. If my sentence were to permit me to walk free from this courtroom, provided that I never use necromancy again, and I saw someone I could save on the very steps of this building, I would not hesitate. I will never hesitate. I will protect the safety and wellbeing of my fellows with every power at my disposal, whether or not people are scared of it. If that decision is to be punished, I accept."

　　There were rumbles of approval from the people the of the courtroom, but a few a hisses and soft jeers as well. He signaled he was done and Delilah gestured him back to his seat.

　　"Not bad," she whispered. "Concise, admitted no fault, framed it around helping people. Good job." Jeremiah smiled and thanked her, though he was glad to sit again. He thought his knees would soon give way beneath him.

　　"I`ve been practicing for days," Jeremiah whispered back.

　　Judge Lannis banged his rod of office on the wood. "Justice, Order, Law. The Seven Judges will now retire to discuss a fitting punishment for the accused, taking into account all that has been said during the trial. The accused and counsel are to remain here until we have reached an accord. All others may leave should they so choose."

　　"All rise!" announced the bailiff. The Seven Judges descended from their podiums and exited through the doors from which they entered.

　　Time slipped by. Most of the crowd had remained, eager to hear the sentencing. They chattered excitedly. Jeremiah was growing anxious. What was taking so long?

　　Delilah, noticing his fidgeting, squeezed his shoulder. "This is a good thing," she said. "If they had decided in advance what your sentence would be, they`d be done by now. It means they`re seriously considering what to do."

　　Jeremiah nodded. Her reassurance made sense, but did little to assuage his sense of foreboding as the minutes grew into hours.

　　Enough time passed for his adrenaline to subside, only to surge again when the bailiff strode to the front of the room. "All rise!"

　　The doors of the courtroom re-opened and the Seven Judges returned, settling in their seats on the raised podiums. "Justice. Order. Law." Three bangs of the rod silenced the room. The sound lingered on in Jeremiah`s ears. The large room seemed to be closing in on him.

　　"Please come to the pulpit to hear your sentence," said Judge Lannis. Jeremiah walked to the focal point of the room. His legs felt like jelly and seemed to take an eon to carry him to the pulpit, but his head was clear and focused on the words of the judges.

　　"Counselor Fortune, please join Mr. Thorn at the pulpit."

　　Delilah recoiled at the request. She seemed tiny as she approached, and Jeremiah thought she looked more nervous than he did. She stood beside him meekly, with none of the presence that she`d carried during the entire trial.

　　"Jeremiah Thorn. We have discussed your crimes and the circumstances surrounding them. We are forced to admit that your situation is without precedent in our halls, and, without the wisdom of precedence to guide us, we are obligated to make our own. You have performed a noble deed, but in doing so have brought a corruption into our city that flies in the face of the natural order. That you are guilty of necromancy is without question, however the law falls short of suggesting the appropriate punishment for your actions in their entirety.

　　"It is therefore after considerable deliberation that we pass down the following sentence: Jeremiah Thorn, we are providing you with a period of one year and one day with which to prove to this court that you and your magic are of benefit to the city of Dramir. What you do with your magic is up to you, but you are to receive no payment for services your magic provides. Your abilities are at the service of the people of Dramir. It is at the sole discretion of the court which activities will constitute proof of your benevolence. If you are unable to convince the court by the end of the period provided,"—Lannis paused for dramatic effect—"you will be executed."

　　Pandemonium erupted in the courtroom. Jeers and hisses rained down from the balconies as people called for Jeremiah`s blood now. Even the gentry cried out their outrage. The phrases "corruption," "unholy magic," "mockery of justice," and "you`ve doomed us all," rang out among the uproar. The guards who had escorted them to the courthouse stepped forward to reinforce the bailiff`s control over the room.

　　Jeremiah himself was filled with a hurricane of emotions. Being executed later was not among the infinite scenarios he`d imagined. But today he was safe, for a year and a day he was safe, and there was a chance still to save himself. He could even continue to practice magic, an outcome he had not dared hope for.

　　The judge turned to Delilah, who shrunk under his gaze. "Counselor Fortune, you are well respected by the courts of Dramir. As such, the court is entrusting you with the safety of the city by requesting your oversight of Jeremiah Thorn`s housing and care. He will reside with you until the end of the described period. You will provide the courts with reports on his activities to inform our decision at the end of one year and one day." The judge looked to his contemporaries, as if trying to see if they were still in agreement.

　　"Counselor Fortune, you have of your own volition chosen to stand in defense of your client. You have attested and fought to restrain the hand of justice. Despite having prior knowledge of the particular magic of your client, you brought him into our city and into your own home, at inexcusable risk to the safety of our people. You had hoped he would escape the eye of justice, but he has not. It is for this reason that, if after a year and one day, Mr. Thorn has failed to prove himself to be a benevolence unto the city, you will be stripped of your Counselor status and be prohibited from future practice of law."

　　"What." Delilah`s mouth opened and closed like a displaced fish but no more words came out.

　　"From this moment, Mr. Thorn is under house arrest. He is confined to the Fortune residence unless on business pertaining specifically to his sentence. He is forbidden from leaving the city without express written permission from this court."

　　The Seven Judges together raised their gold capped rods and declared in unison, "Our justice is passed! Justice! Order! Law!" The final strike echoed around the room, triggering another volley of jeers.

　　The bailiff removed Jeremiah`s manacles. "Given the circumstances," he said under his breath, "you probably want to exit out the back."