Garson will be hanged?!

Clyde puts his hands out for everyone’s attention. “Hold up, that's too much. Any father would want to seek justice for his daughter, especially if he thought someone had taken advantage of her.” He looks over at Garson, then Catherine. “I know I could have died, If Perpetua wasn't here, but to take a good father away from his daughter would not be justice in my eyes.”

“Hmm…” Aithne ponders. She sits back down in her chair, crossing both her slender legs and arms. “Well, Garson, apparently Clyde isn’t happy with this outcome. Justice requires the victim to be content with the punishment bestowed upon the offender. I will allow Clyde to suggest an alternative verdict; will you accept the fate Clyde chooses for you?”

Garson nods solemnly. “Yes, m’lady.” Raising his head to look at Clyde, he asks humbly “please, have mercy…”

Aithne also looks toward Clyde expectantly.

Racking his brain for all possible outcomes he could think of, Clyde muddles carefully over his decision. He glances over at Catherine, who is still just a shivering heep on the floor, weeping quietly as a small puddle of tears pools at her knees. It’s just the two of them… I couldn’t have Garson taken from her.

“Clyde,” Aithne says, as if to hasten his thinking.

“I know, I know. I’ve got it!” Clyde points towards Garson and in a passionate flurry of words, he yells, “Garson, you shall take me as an apprentice and teach me every skill you know!”

Silence yet again fills the room, though for an entirely different reason than before. Everyone, save for Clyde, looks at one another with sheer bewilderment plastered on their faces- eyebrows raised and mouths hanging open. A collective turning of heads takes place, and all eyes rest on Clyde.

Aithne blinks and shakes her head. “Are you sure, Clyde?”

Clyde, still pointing at Garson in his triumphant pose huffs out a “Yes!”

“You could literally have every possession he owns, his neck in a collar to be a slave to your every demand, even his life if you wanted to. But instead you ask him to give you an apprenticeship… For him to be your master.”

Nodding enthusiastically with eyes closed, Clyde responds, “I value knowledge and skill more than possessions. Garson is an excellent smith! To have his knowledge would benefit me tremendously, and as your slave I have my need taken care of my lady.”

She sighs as she looks down upon Garson . “Well? Choose Garson: death, or leading an apprenticeship with Clyde.”

As if he needed to say it aloud, Clyde thinks to himself, chuckling silently.

Garson bows down low once more. “Thank you dearly, Clyde, for your mercy. I will teach you all that I know!”

“Garson, Catherine, I hope you can fathom just how much Clyde has done for you.” Aithne stresses with her voice. “He has saved your house, and provided unparalleled mercy. Never forget his kindness.”

“We could never forget, even if we tried,” Catherine states as she wipes her tears and gives her father a hug.

“With that, this matter has been attended to and the punishment has been sealed. Hayden, Clyde, stay. Everyone else is dismissed,” Aithne says, motioning the others out with her hand.

Garson leaves the room with his head still low, and Catherine follows behind him. Before slipping out the door, she looks back and locks eyes with Clyde, offering him a gentle smile as she exits. Meri shuts the door on her way out, after all have left the room.

A brief moment of quiet swept through, and the tense air could be sliced with a butter knife.

“You two already know what must be discussed next, I’m sure.“ Aithne says. Clyde could very clearly sense the disappointment in her tone. “The matter with the smith is settled, yet the true crime from the events of yesterday must now be addressed. Perpetua, please go ahead.”

“Hayden, Clyde- you have both committed a grave sin that is unforgivable in the eyes of the church. You have resurrected a person who was deceased, despite the time limit being surpassed.” Perpetua explains. “This cannot be atoned for.”

Clyde slowly bows his head. “I bear full responsibility. The fault was mine, and mine alone.”

“It is only true that you convinced Hayden to commit such a grave error, Clyde. However, it was you, Hayden, that cast resurrect. What do you say Hayden?”

Through a grimace, Hayden nods. “I have committed this sin, and I will bear the weight of my sins.”

“But it’s MY fault, not his!” Clyde blurts out, stepping toward Perpetua.

Perpetua holds up a hand. “You will cease, Clyde.”

“But, she didn’t die! She lived, and she isn’t a husk!” he exclaims.

Provoked by his response, Clyde could feel Perpetua’s anger surface, even through her veil.

“The gods placed the curse of the husks upon us for a reason! We cannot and shall not resurrect those who have expired past the time limit; doing so is a grave sin- a blasphemy against the church itself! You should both be labeled apostates and hunted down,” the saint said furiously. But after a moment, her voice calms.

“But, as you say, Catherine is not a husk, and no evidence is present to suggest the contrary. As such, I’m in a predicament.”

She lets out a long sigh. “Are you prepared to take responsibility for your actions?”

Hayden and Clyde respond in unison with a “yes.”

“Very well,” Perpetua says. “Clyde and Hayden, for rejecting one of the chief dogmas of the church, you are hereby excommunicated from the church of Amare.”

Taking a moment to look upon Hayden, Perpetua frowns. “Do you even regret what you did?”

Hayden’s eyes meet the saint’s. “I do not… and I’d do it again, especially to save a young girl's life. I'd reject the teachings of the church 1000 times, if it meant helping those in need of my power.”

Perpetua’s anger returns once more, like an inferno rising from the deep. “GO! Get out- both of you!”

She turns her back on them as the two walk out, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the large room.

Waiting to greet them on the other side of the door is Airi, who steps away from the wall of the corridor and approaches Hayden first.

“What happened?” she asks.

Hayden walks by Airi without a word, deaf to it amidst the sea of thoughts flooding his mind. He continues down the hallway alone.

Stepping up to Airi, Clyde answers, “well, we’ve been excommunicated. I’m not entirely sure what that all entails, though…”

“There’s not much to it,” Airi says. “It simply means that you cannot be affiliated with the church, nor receive blessings from it.”

Clyde facepalms, dragging his hand down his face to try and wipe away his worry. “I feel like I’ve just messed up, even though I’ve been trying to do the right thing.”

Airi crosses her arms. “Clyde… I don’t think what you did was morally wrong, per se. Would you do it again, even with the same outcome?”

Clyde thinks back to Catherine crying on the floor at the prospect of losing her father.

“Of course I would. How could I not? She is alive, despite the aftermath.”

“Then you did the right thing.” Airi says plainly.

“But I still don’t feel right. Everything that’s happened so far makes me think I’m just not right for this place. I fail in combat, which is the very thing I’ve dedicated most of my life to. Then managed to be accused of rape, and caused not only myself but Hayden to be excommunicated. I may have saved Catherine, but I just royally fucked up Haydens.”

Annoyed at his lamenting, Airi chides Clyde. “You aren’t even of this world! Your perception is not rooted in it. Even though you broke the church’s laws and became excommunicated, was it worth it? Based on your world’s morals, was it right?”

Clyde drops his shoulders, relenting a bit. “Yes, but-”

Airi shoves a hand over his mouth. “I know something to get your mind off of it.”

He shakes his head away from her hand. “What is that?”

Airi grins. “It’s a surprise!”

She leads Clyde to the garden in the back of the estate. After having him wait as she went into the shed, she comes back out with a large, cumbersome-looking scythe.

Clyde takes the scythe, looking up at Airi confused. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Airi sits down at the table. “Start cutting the grass. It will help,” she says, raising her feet up to rest on the chair opposite her.

Clyde grumbles under his breath as he walks over to the long, far outgrown pampas grass near the back of the shed. He begins swinging the scythe back and forth, cutting the grass at different levels with improper swings.

Airi watches him struggle for a few minutes before finally pulling herself up and over to Clyde.

“Can’t you do anything right?”

Airi grabs the scythe from his hand, and shows him the proper technique by holding the tool at her waist and sweeping low to the ground. She tosses it back to Clyde and returns to her seat.

“Go ahead, now,” she says, watching him closely. “Try it again.”

It took a while, but eventually, Clyde figured out the basic pattern. He spent the morning mowing the grass as Airi sat in the garden, her eyes closed to enjoy the sound of his work.

Doing such mundane, repetitive work allowed Clyde to let his mind wander. He thought of all the events that took place up to this point: the plane, the cell, the carriage attack, the bouts with Alistair, Aithne’s advances, job searching, and everything at the river. It was amazing how much seemed to happen in only a few days, yet Clyde realized he enjoyed the world.

My life has had more excitement here in the several days, than my entire life on earth. I saved someone, with my own hands, being excommunicated is my evidence of that. I’ve witnessed magic, real magic, and my love for combat has an actual purpose here, it isn’t just a hobby.

I might have been good in my world, as I was a big fish, in a little pond, he thought. But here, I’m a small fish in the ocean. I have so much room to grow!

Moving to the last patch of overgrown grass around the ornamental trees, Clyde thinks of Will.

He would have done the same. If Will were in my shoes, he wouldn’t even think twice.

Once he finished cutting, he began piling the tall, sharp grass blades next to the shed in small batches.

I’m sure he’d even tell me to “pull my head out of my ass!” … Dick. But he’d be right.

Finally coming to peace with himself, Clyde returns the scythe to the shed, then plops down under the shade of one of the trees. It wasn’t long before Airi was back in his face.

“Are you still sulking?” she asks.

Clyde smiles “No, I think I‘m good now; thank you. Apparently, I needed that.”

“You’re very welcome. You can mow down the grass now anytime you like.”

Clyde rolls his eyes. “You just didn’t want to do it yourself.”

Airi laughs. “Yeah, you caught me. Meri is waiting for you in the kitchen.” She pats his shoulder. “You still have your chores to do.”