A voice that seemed to come out of nowhere, projected itself very loudly as though broadcast through a public address system. It spoke several languages consecutively, including Angeloi, ending with a universal dialect that was plain enough for the Elves to comprehend. It went something like this:
"Daemon Man,
you have been summoned here for authentic scrutiny
that you may decide your value to Humanity, and its associated realms ...
"If it is found that you hold no great love for either Heaven or Earth, if you are no respecter of their destinies or have no care and concern, for their wellbeing then you will be freed of this district and sent hither to that sphere of another kind.
"It is with respectful sadness that we proceed.
"The Tribunal wishes you well.
"Go now, and follow Sirius as he will take you to each Appraiser to whom needs must you shall truthfully answer to."
The little dog had been lying upside down in Goober's lap, until hearing its name called. He sat upright and jumped into the air, sprinting over to where the very dazed Forsythe stood, greatly sobered.
The small animal tugged sharply on his pant's leg and then bounced down the stairs - Forsythe followed behind him obediently. He did not seem to recognise Nervina as he passed him by.
Sirius led him to the furthest of the judiciary, who had all been sitting motionless behind their veils, this entire time.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
The two plates were engraved with a language he did not recognize. The central portion was smooth like a mirror, but the outer rim was in-scripted all over. Nothing happened. The grey shrivelled organ just lay there.
A loud gong resounded, signifying the completion of that segment, and as Nervina turned to go back down the stairs. Forsythe materialised right in front of him - the heart must have compelled him to be present.
As ever, he was dressed impeccably, and looked almost proud to be invited. He was defiant, arrogant and peculiarly noble. Forsythe had all the presence and confidence of an actor out on stage.
Goober turned to Puck and whispered, "How can they judge him as being disincarnate, when he is still alive in the world?"
"Oh, he has been dead for a very long time - sequestering the bodies of those living, did not make their lives his own." said Puck emphatically.
"Oh" said Goober, who did not understand how this all worked, but was completely enraptured by this high society he now felt so very at home in. He looked down to see that the small golden dog had fallen fast asleep on his lap.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
Puck leaned over to Nervina and said solemnly "It is time now for you to go up and deliver the heart."
"Can't you do it?" asked Nervina in a very strained voice.
"No, it is important that you do it. You have been the keeper ever since it came to us. I am now in two minds as to who might have sent it. We always thought it was Marsden, but now I realize, it was verily a gift from the Gods."
"I shall start my reporting soon - that is part enough to be had." He continued "you see that silver platter up there on the dais? All you have to do is go over to it, walk up the eight steps (they get bigger as you rise) and open the box, to then tip the heart carefully onto the plate. Oh, and make sure it is the one on the left and not the right that you aim for".
"Left, not right" said Nervina repeating his instructions - it was obvious to him that there was an enormous hall of beings waiting for this next part to come, and it was now down to him.
"Will this redeem me?" he asked hopefully.
Goober who had been listening in, stuck his head in front of Puck's, saying encouragingly "I'm sure it will Nervina - they all look like a really friendly crowd here."
"Well, maybe to you they do" Nervina faltered. "Goober, were you being facetious then - sometimes I really can't tell if you are having a lend?" Puck elbowed him to get going.
Awkwardly he pulled the box from his satchel, drawing a deep breath. Mumbling something, he clumsily, yet importantly, took his stride with dignity.
Speckles of silver had infiltrated his boots and had become abrasive. He took to the steps with care and once at the top, drew open the box, letting it slip from his fingers.
Later he suggested that the heart itself had leapt out of its container, as though it had a life of its own - spilling squat bang onto the centre of the great silver disk before it.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
The booming sound of rhythmic gongs pulsed the air, and the crowd fell suitably silent. This was followed by a single voice singing in the darkness surrounding them. It was a pure voice - high and like a bell - and with it came a fine mist that wound its way through the enormous room. In the half-light now you could see the heavenly bodies forming and re-forming themselves in the particles of that curling mist - these were the angelic beings who had come to join them.
The air became damp with their presence, after which the single voice was absorbed by a many. The lighting slowly and softly returned and in the high domed canopy above them they could see angels in their hundreds now lining the roof, looking down upon them.
"Why don't they sit with us?" Goober asked naively.
"It would be too much to bear for them," answered Puck quietly - "hard enough as it is for them to be here at all."
Across the faces beyond, Puck recognized Yang sitting in the stalls east of the thrones. There were some empty seats around him and his presence was somewhat conspicuous - with his bare feet resting on the row in front, this casual charmer was a real standout amongst the celestial splendour.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
It was like a theatre before the curtains went up, until the Goddess of Truth made her bright entrance, illuminating the room, purely with her presence.
She stood over fourteen feet tall Goober surmised. He had fallen in love with her instantly. There were thirty-three attendants trailing behind, some who mimed a slow and oddly stepped dance, some who played music, and others to carry her dress. The shimmering fabric of it floated about her and changed its colour, shifting from violet to an etherial blue - and patterned all over were frothy clouds that moved, just like the panorama of a sky would do.
Pea-sized diamonds draped her fine white neck, as a cascade of stars - each, a compounded Planet - one that had passed away many eons before - now she wore on her person. Her hair was raven black and swept atop her head and from her bare shoulders bulged two small wings, folded in.
She carried a golden sceptre that had balanced upon it a diamond the size of a goose egg. It was shaped and polished smoothly, and said to be made from the carbon of those lost to the damning of the court - their sum total now remaining. It would throw a fiery light out from it here and there, flashing intrusively into the eyes of the bystanders who caught its glimmer unawares.
She sat not far from the three, beside a raised dais that held two enormous saucers of silver. Her attendants took places behind her. Peering more closely Goober could now see that they were only children.
No sooner had she sat down did her dress darken to black and once again and the hall fell to shadow.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
The three found that the walk through the court felt endless. "We should have come in from the other side of the pavilion?" Goober remarked in a hushed voice to Puck, thinking they had made their way the long way round. The little gold dog was trotting along behind.
"Shhh" came a cautionary voice, from a dwarf who sat with his family on the fifth row. "Typical" thought Nervina, already flustered by the ambience of this enormous hall.
Beneath their feet was a silver sand. This slowed the walking somewhat and got into the boots uncomfortably.
Goober was excited now, to him this was a pageant of sorts. Unlike Puck, this was his first time viewing the inner circle, and this depth of solemnity impressed him greatly.
Nervina was cringing with trepidation. He distinctly felt part of this Forsythe saga. He had no liking for the deeply serious, nor the superiority assumed here. Most of the company around him he found to be genuinely frightening and feared what they might see in his soul. He was finding it difficult to breathe and worried that he too might end up annihilated and lost eternally without ever having cake or friendship again.
They were seated just in time before the entire room darkened.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
Coming into the Hall of Judgement was daunting - it was the size of a small stadium and the power in the air bore a high velocity that the elves were unused to.
Goober had tried to text Pepper a message to let her know where they were and what they were up to - but the reception in there was non-existent.
A guide from the Old Sphere approached briskly and asked them to be silent as they were shown to their places within the court. He was a fine-featured spirit with a long pointed nose, and chiselled ears – ‘more elf than elf’, Nervina thought.
The rows of seats lay in semi circles and there were hundreds of onlookers already waiting in the amphitheatre looking down at them as they walked passed.
At the floor level there were forty-two tall thrones sitting approximately six feet apart from each other. Every one was carved in a polished onyx, detailed with intricate reliefs that displayed acts of sin and misfortune. They were specifically the deeds that incurred banishment from the earthly realm, artistically rendered into the furniture. Nervina wondered if these reminders were really necessary. Forty-two were a lot to have to walk past and view.
More disturbing still were the forty-two judges who sat high upon them. All were women, and each one was draped with a sheer black tunic and veil to match, as dark as midnight. It was impossible to see through them, save for a shadow of a bosom, or profile beneath this costume. But as to their age or expression, or whether they found favor or objection, the dark material concealed this perfectly.
This was the court of the Immortals. Humans went to Hell, but the Demi-gods and Demons came for their Judgement to this lofty place of perdition.
This was not a fate for the petty or transitory offenders. For most beings there is a karmic compass to reorientate the will and want. No, this was the end road for the indestructible spirits who foul the ethers without conscience, causing the gentle inhabitants of the earthly world unnecessary harm.
Here they listened to the final rants of the powerful, insatiable insubordinates, who defied the cosmic congenialities, overstepped authorities, blasphemed against the great and the Divine, caused death instead of furthering life; and above all, had declared themselves as God.
Marc-Marsden-Forsythe had breached these laws, taking license where he should not. The question was, would the conciliatory grace of the Angels now save him? Puck had hoped not. He was bitter and beyond consolation - tired of the games evility used, amusing only to themselves.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
