The Grand Tribunal Hall of the Ozeroth Sanitarium was not built for justice; it was built for intimidation. Its vaulted ceiling, painted with stoic, judging saints, soared above an oppressive space lined with polished obsidian and dim, stained-glass windows depicting allegories of medical triumph. High-backed chairs, carved from petrified oak, formed a semicircular bench where three grim-faced judges sat. Below them, a single, raised platform held a long table. Tihana stood beside Rytis, whose pale face was stark against his dark, simple tunic. His remaining hand rested on Lovre’s shoulder, an anchor for the frail boy, who clutched a worn wooden toy. Danica and Ignas sat opposite, radiating smug confidence, Ignas’s spectacles glinting in the faint light.
Judge Vorian, a man with a face like a storm-scoured cliff, cleared his throat. “Tihana Vukoja, Rytis Baras. You stand accused of unlicensed construction, public endangerment, and acts of domestic terrorism. Scholar Ignas Ruzena, present your evidence.”
Ignas, preening, rose. “Esteemed judges, citizens, I stand before you today not as an accuser, but as a protector of Ozeroth. For weeks, my meticulous labor has been plagued by a saboteur. This man, Rytis Baras, a disgraced and embittered veteran, has engaged in reckless, unsanctioned construction, polluting our precious waterways in a desperate attempt to undermine my work and profit from the city’s misfortune.” He gestured to a large, corked glass jar on the table, filled with murky, blackish sludge. “This, your honors, is water taken directly from the Vyrn Ironworks. You can see its deplorable state, a result of Baras’s careless excavations, his conduits churning up sediment and toxins.”
Danica rose next, her silk gown rustling, her voice a practiced lament. “My poor sister, Tihana, has been manipulated by this… this opportunist. He filled her head with grand, impossible schemes, promising her wealth if she would only aid his destructive efforts. They sought to profit from the plague, not cure it. They sought to steal the credit for my fiancé’s life-saving tonic, when all they possess is peasant-level pipework.” She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a lace handkerchief, a perfectly staged performance. “They set the ironworks ablaze to destroy their own incriminating work, only to be caught in the act.”
Tihana smiled, a wide, empty thing that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, dear! Is that what happened? I was so confused by all the bang-bang-boom. I just thought Rytis was very clever with his big water-spout-thingy, putting out all the fire so quickly!” Her voice was light, airy, completely oblivious. “But Scholar Ruzena, you said your labor was ‘plagued’ by a saboteur. Isn’t that a funny word to use when the whole city is… well, *plagued*? Are your medical mixtures not working, then? Did someone spill something in your vials?”
Ignas stiffened. “My work is proceeding apace! My draft, the Aqua Vitae, is nearing completion. It will purify the body of the blight.” He indicated another vial, clear and shimmering with a faint blue luminescence. “This, your honors, is the latest iteration of my cure.”
Tihana tilted her head, her smile unwavering. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Scholar! So, if the city water is so dangerous, and your cure is so potent, why do so many people keep getting sick? My sweet Lovre, he’s been so ill. He even drank some of that bad water from the city pumps, just like many others.” Her gaze drifted to the jar of murky sludge. “I wonder, if we drank that, would your draft fix us right up?”
Vorian shifted. “A fair question, Lady Vukoja. While the potency of the Aqua Vitae is not on trial, it directly relates to the accusation of negligence.”
Ignas puffed out his chest. “My remedy is designed to counter the blight itself, not merely filter impurities. It is a nuanced, distilled solution.”
“Nuanced!” Tihana chirped. “That sounds terribly complicated. So, if someone drank that murky water first, and then your draft, they’d be safe?”
“Indeed,” Ignas declared, falling into her trap. “The draft would cleanse them.”
Tihana turned to Lovre. “Lovre, sweet pea, do you think you could be very brave for your big sister?”
Lovre, pale but resolute, met her gaze. He nodded, his small hand still holding his carved toy. The room fell dead silent. Rytis’s grip on Lovre’s shoulder tightened, but he said nothing, trusting Tihana’s strange game.
Tihana picked up the jar of blackish water Ignas had presented as evidence. “Master Ruzena says this is from the ironworks, and it’s very, very bad. But he also says his cure can fix anything after. So Lovre will drink some of this ‘bad’ water.” She poured a small amount into a clean glass, the fluid sloshing heavily. “And then, Master Ruzena, we shall see if your Aqua Vitae lives up to its name.”
A gasp rippled through the spectators. Danica stiffened, pale fear washing over her face. “Tihana, you cannot! That water is lethal!”
“But you said his cure works!” Tihana said, feigning confusion. “Isn’t that the point? To show how clever Master Ruzena is?”
Lovre, without hesitation, raised the glass and drank the foul-smelling liquid. A collective moan escaped the crowd. He coughed once, his small face scrunched in distaste, but otherwise remained standing, steadfast.
“Now, Master Ruzena,” Tihana prompted, her voice bright. “The cure, please.”
Ignas, visibly distressed, hesitated. “It… it must be administered carefully. The dosage…”
“No time for careful when you’re dying, is there?” Tihana’s smile sharpened, losing its hollow edge for a split second. “My brother just drank your ‘lethal’ water. Give him the cure, or admit it’s useless.”
Vorian leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Ignas. “Master Ruzena. Administer the remedy.”
Ignas, trembling, poured a small measure of the blue serum into a spoon from his kit. Tihana watched, her eyes narrowed, before turning to Rytis. “Rytis, dearest, could you show everyone your clever little water-box? The one that makes the yucky water clean?”
Rytis, still silent, retrieved a small, intricately designed portable filter from a satchel. He held it up for the bench to inspect, a miniature marvel of gears and layered charcoal. Then, he took a fresh vial of the same murky water Ignas had brought and, with a few precise movements, poured it into the device. Clear, pure water dripped from the other end into another clean glass.
“Look, everyone!” Tihana announced, her voice ringing. “Rytis’s little contraption just made the bad water good! So, Lovre, sweet boy, if you’re still feeling poorly after the master's cure, you can have some of Rytis’s clean water.”
Ignas, flustered, brought the spoon with his draft to Lovre’s lips. Lovre, after a moment’s inspection, swallowed. Tihana then offered him the glass of Rytis’s filtered water. Lovre drank it gratefully. Minutes stretched, heavy and expectant.
Lovre remained perfectly still, his breathing even. He did not cough. He did not sway. He looked at Tihana, a faint, proud smile on his face. Tihana’s empty smile softened into something real, a quick, almost imperceptible curve of genuine relief.
“Well,” Tihana said, her voice dropping some of its artifice, though the smile remained. “It seems Lovre is quite well. Perhaps the master's cure isn’t so bad after all. Or perhaps,” she paused, her gaze locking onto Ignas, “perhaps the water wasn’t as deadly as you claimed, scholar, and your draft didn’t do very much at all.”
Ignas sputtered. “It simply means my draft works!”
“Strong enough to melt things?” Tihana asked innocently. “I’ve heard some tinctures can be quite… corrosive. Presiding Judge, would you mind terribly if we tested a tiny drop of the cure on something else? Just to see how pure it truly is?”
The elder judge swept a sharp look over Ignas’s panicked face. “A reasonable request, Lady Tihana.” He gestured to a silver spoon from his personal tea service, which sat on the bench. “Here.”
Ignas’s hands trembled as he held the vial. Danica’s face was now pale, her earlier confidence utterly gone. She knew. She had seen this play out before, in a different life. She knew the corrosive truth of Ignas’s shoddy work. But this time, Tihana was not blind.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Tihana took the vial from Ignas’s shaking hand. She let a single, pearlescent drop of the Aqua Vitae fall onto the bowl of the elder judge's silver spoon. A low hiss filled the room. A faint wisp of acrid vapor rose. And then, before their eyes, the polished silver spoon began to darken, to pit, and then to visibly deform, melting into a dull, grey puddle right on the polished wood of the table.
A collective gasp, louder this time, shook the chamber. Vorian blinked, his brow twitching upward. He stared at the ruined silver, then at the untroubled Lovre, then at the clean water that had dripped from Rytis’s filter.
“The charges against Tihana Vukoja and Rytis Baras are dismissed,” Vorian declared, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. “Ignas Ruzena, your experiments are a grave danger to the public. You are stripped of your license and your notes are to be immediately impounded for guild review.”
Ignas collapsed into his chair, a broken man. Danica stared, her face a mask of furious, disbelieving horror. Her carefully constructed future, built on the stolen promise of his 'cure,' had crumbled before her eyes.
Tihana allowed herself a small, triumphant smile, quickly veiled. She had won. For now. But Vorian was not done.
“However,” Vorian continued, his voice resonating with cold authority. “While your conduit system appears to hold great promise, its construction, without the express approval and seal of the Royal Guild of Architects, is a breach of ancient charter. No public utility of such scope, however beneficial, may be legally connected to the city’s water network without that seal.” He fixed Tihana with a penetrating gaze. “That seal, Lady Tihana, is currently held in the private vaults of the Vukoja estate, under the direct custodianship of Lady Danica Vukoja.”
Danica, her face still contorted with rage, looked up. Her eyes met Tihana’s, a cold, venomous challenge passing between them. A cruel, knowing smirk twisted Danica’s lips. “Indeed, your honor. And I assure you, that seal will remain precisely where it is. Untouched.”