“Exile should be permanent. Once you are gone, no coming back!” An old man who had seemed to just follow the flow in the past exclaimed from his position next to the stern lady.

The lady gave a quick nod of her head, “I agree. Exile should not be taken lightly. If the world outside is safe, then they should go and not come back.” Her eyes glanced at me, clearly challenging me.

She could challenge me all she liked, but it was actually a decent suggestion. If I had stopped at the Wall and not come back into the city, my sister wouldn’t be dead. Leaving it open for Exiles to return just made it easier for the Spies to interfere further.

Richard looked at me, “And what does the Exile think?”

All the eyes turned to look at me. With a sigh I shrugged, “I think they are right. It is honorable to pick exile, but exiles don’t belong here anymore.” I’d spilled too much blood. My silly desire for honor, a better city, and a better life for the Dishonored just brought death and ruin to the people I cared about. Henry died in an effort to save my miserable life, Casia dead because I believed the people of the city would give her the option of Exile, and Dan a shadow of who he used to be in the service of my supposed cause. Numerous others I didn’t even know who I killed. “Exiles have too many rotten roots in the city to be able to come back without causing a stir. Let them cut their rotten roots off and grow a new life elsewhere.”

“You speak as if you are not an exile yourself,” The old woman gently scolded.

“I realize I do not belong here anymore. This place holds heartbreak and misery for me, and if I stayed I would hold a grudge against the people of this city.” The people cheering as Casia died boiled in my stomach, “I hate this city. I came back thinking it could be better, that there was a way to free the people of this city, and maybe it will be better in the future with the new system, but there is no future for me here. All there is left here for me is a past that burns in my stomach.”

One of the younger men, a man with tied back blonde hair, had the gall to look shocked by my declaration. “How could you say that and say you want to make the city a better place!” He exclaimed.

“I did want to. Then a war was fought on the city streets, and now I’m holding back my desire to completely run away from the mess I created. Figured it’s only right to finish what I started even if I don’t really care about any of it anymore.” I shrugged and focused on breathing in and out. I didn’t care anymore. I couldn’t care.

The woman nodded, “We must all push down our personal feelings during this process.”

“Do we agree that those who chose Exile cannot return to the city?” Richard asked.

The man with the long tied back hair shook his head, “I would like to amend that statement. I think there should be a difference between choosing to leave the city and exile. Anyone should be able to choose to leave the city without choosing exile and they should be able to return.”

“Who would want to leave the city if they aren’t choosing exile?” The bitter desenter, Michael, questioned the other man’s logic.

The long haired man’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the other man, “My sister Anna is leaving. She has no reason to except that she wants to see the outside world. She should be able to come back. At least to visit!” His voice sounded desperate.

A couple people nodded and a murmur rose from the crowd. Richard raised his hand, and the murmur quieted.

“If we want a distinction, how will we define exile?” He asked the table.

The table was silent. It wasn’t something they seemed to have thought about. They glanced around at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.

After the long pause, the long haired man spoke up again, “What if we said that criminals and Dishonored are Exiled, and anyone else is just choosing to leave.”

“Undesirables should be Exiled too!” Michael interjected. “I don’t want them coming back into our city!”

“Undesirables haven’t necessarily done anything wrong. We should make it attractive for them to be able to leave.” Richard Revacks stated.

What a stupid argument. I couldn’t help showing the folly of it, “With more than half the Dishonored being born into their caste or forced into it because a family member committed a crime, they have not committed a crime, and yet you still talk about the castes as if everyone in them is the same. The castes must go for the City to continue to exist or you will lose all your population to the outside world.”

A couple people looked worried, others shrugged. Mr. Revacks spoke up again, “And what would you have us call the criminals? If they are criminals they are still dishonored. The undesirables still do the hardest labor of the city.”

Richard Hongew raised his hand and responded, “We will figure out how we are dissolving the caste system and punishments for criminals later. For now, let us focus on the law at hand. It seems describing exiles as criminals who are choosing to leave the city is agreed on. Others leaving are not exiles. Exiles may not ever return to the City. Are there any more questions or objections to this statement?

No one said anything and stared at Richard waiting for him to continue.

“Then let us take a vote. All in favor, raise your hands.”

Everyone at the table raised their hand.

Richard looked over at the crowd watching, “Please record that under laws.”

A bald man in a simple gray uniform holding some sort of writing implement and a hard surface to write on nodded. “I am recording it.”

It was quite impressive how Richard managed to keep the work moving. I had to admit that the spies had picked the right person to ask to lead this effort.