The Virtues' Magecraft

Page 60: When Fate Begins To Move

Anastasia could hardly see past the bright light that shone into her eyes. A lamp was dangling from the ceiling, yet still aimed directly into her face.

Even as a suit-wearing officer sat himself down in front of her, across a cold metal table, she couldn't see his face.

"You do realize I'm sick, right?" she asked. "You've kept me here in this cold room for half an hour. It's boring. And I'll probably start sneezing at some point. I should sue you."

The entire room itself was murky. Water dripped and leaked from the sides of the ceiling, and with the weight of each step either of them took, the rotten wooden floorboards creaked and groaned.

Even the metal table before them was beginning to rust, its legs weak and already corroding. The same went for the chairs, with the only relatively 'new' object in the room being the table lamp that was aimed at Anastasia, which let off a loud hum that continued to crackle and permeate through the room.

Its light was pure and stark, burning a white glow in Anastasia's eyes.

"I do apologize for that," he said, folding his hands onto themselves. "We were interrogating Lumiel Solaire, the Virtue of Charity. And you are Anastasia Velda. Virtue of..." He paused and stared down at the file before him. "Patience, is it?"

She spat out a sigh. "That's right."

"Now... What do you know about Alexander Lane?"

"Everything. Be specific."

A sigh left the man's lips. He slid a finger through the cloth of his black tie, pulling and letting it unravel on his neck. "Where were you on March 9th? The date Mammon manifested in the World?"

"Home. I was sick."

"And-"

Anastasia interrupted him. "I saw about Alexander on the TV. My friends told me afterwards, but, of course, the first thing I heard was the propaganda that a Demon-Born brought destruction."

"But it's true. Your friend is the spawn of a devil. Your friend was responsible for the injuries of more than a dozen people. This question is more personal, so it won't go on record. But you, Anastasia Velda... Why do you think Alexander Lane should not be executed?"

Anastasia fell silent. For just a handful of seconds, she froze and paused, her eyes fixing themselves on the table before her.

"Alexander Lane..." she began to utter, still facing down. "...is a good person. You've probably only seen him after the incident, so you wouldn't know. You wouldn't understand what he's done for humanity, the extent he's gone for other people. And the anguish he's been through because of it."

And just like she did, the officer went silent for a moment.

The silence in the room was whispered away as he began to chuckle to himself. "Are you serious?!" he finally asked, amidst his chortles. "You want to prevent his execution, and you think your opinion on him will justify that?! You need facts, you need the truth to show what he is! Without that-"

He slammed his fists onto the metal table, and his laughs faded away with a sigh leaving his lips. "God, you're a funny one, I'll give you that. But with the way things stand, he will die. And for your information, I've been monitoring the Demon-Born for years. I understand wholly and completely. More than anyone else. More than you can."

"So then why do you want him to die?"

The officer kept moving and removed his tie, rolling it up over his hand before pocketing it into his suit jacket. "I never said I wanted him dead. I want to hear your thoughts."