HEARTHOLME Chapter 13: Trust and Tension

Halia's walk to the above level dungeon was tense. The words of Fabian cut into her like a thousand grains of sand sharpened into knives and cutting down to her bones. "I should escort young miss Iris and Kyrin to the prison for the night," Fabian had said. They don't trust her. Why don't they trust her? Is it because she isn't some old dwarf? Her fist tightens in fury.
"Sister," Iris asks. She is being escorted by Halia. Kyrin is with both of them. The Arbiter of Law for Heartholme is Halia. She had the ground to stand on to push back on Fabian. Trust needed to be built and the fact Iris is Halia's sister need not be a question. The town is too small to deal with conflicts of interest like this.
"Arbiter," Halia quickly corrects her own sister, "you address me as Arbiter Halia, Iris." Her words are hot blooded and harsh. Kyrin's wolvish ears fold back on his head.
"But, Arbiter Halia, I wish to speak to my sister. Sister Halia," Iris says as she practically drifts down the Heartholme streets towards her future cell. "Sister Halia is mad. Arbiter Halia is just doing her job. Nothing mad about that."
"Arbiter Halia has told Sister Halia about your request and Sister Halia wants you to know that you are in big trouble," Halia says, trying to keep all those persona straight in her response without stumbling over them. "What were you thinking?"
"Um, Sister Iris wants to tell Arbiter Halia to tell Sister Halia that she, or rather I, was not thinking about anything in particular. A friend had been assaulted and I wanted to help," Iris says as her eyes drift from left to right as she clicks in the different personas.
"This is hurting my head," Kyrin yowls at this roleplay of roleplay assuming situation. If they wanted to talk about persona of personas they should write it down. Make a book out of the situation or something.
Halia scoffs at Kyrin's situation, "It doesn't take much. If you can't follow along, then shut your yap and go home."
Kyrin's ears perk back up and he bears teeth in a growl at Halia, "Hey now. You could just as easily stop talking in the third person of a third person. Nineth person?" The druidic elf is making an honest attempt at following along with the conversation. The acts of misdirection are sorted around dishonesty in his head. It is made worse by the consequence of having to go home if he can't keep up. The thought of being left out is a cold stab enough, but the idea of going home is a topic that hasn't surfaced all day. Like Aaron, Kyrin lives in the forests on the outskirts of town. The murder being so recent, he could end up being next in line. "Also old man Ryan wouldn't send me back to a place where someone was recently," he starts.
"Stop," Halia says, quickly lunging to grasp the large wolf's yapping maw. It is late in the evening and no one is walking the streets, but the houses are still close. People listen and they watch. The last thing the Arbiter wants is to deal with panic and rumors. Kyrin makes a muffled sound. His eyes look to Halia and he blinks in understanding. "You can stay, but shut up. I won't tell you again. You may think this is funny or that laughing it off makes it easier to deal with. I don't care. It makes everything more difficult and its a cluster already."
The three walk in a somber march for several more minutes. It is broken with Iris saying quietly, "Im sorry for causing any trouble."
"We will sort it out," Halia says, tired of this ordeal already. She opens the door to the prison to find old man Ryan asleep at his old desk.
"Ryan," the woman says with wide, twitching eyes, "where is the prisoner?"
"Huh what," Ryan says as he stumbles awake, "uh. Huh. Guess he slipped out," the bleary eyed dwarf says as the two officers of law are staring at two empty prison cells. One should be occupied right now. It is not.
"What do you mean you 'guess he slipped out'?" Halia flies into a rage. "When? How? How could you let this happen, you stupid old dwarf?! You had one job." She points at the old man, hand and finger shaking, "One. Job. Not even for a long time! All you had to do is stare. Even Kyrin can look in one direction for a couple of hours."
"Thanks," Kyrin says proudly, shaking his mangy wolfish mane.
"Not a compliment!" Halia shoots back and it causes Kyrin's ears to fold back again. The woman stomps towards Ryan. "I could kill you right now," she says in frustration.
"Whoa now," the old dwarf says as he hops off of his chair, "first off, you should not toss that language around when there is an active murder investigation. Second, I'd love to see you try. Last I checked my old deputy is oh for four in brawls."
The woman's scarred face turns red with frustration. "Ryan." The rest of the words fail to form into useful sentences.
"Halia," Ryan, who is well rested and assumed some of this was coming, replies.
"Ryan," she says again.
"Halia," Ryan replies, tilting his head to the side.
"Iris!" the young girl speaks up with a smile, raising her hand. Halia turns sharply and the hand slowly lowers back down.
The current Arbiter turns back to face the shorter, former Arbiter. "We have to go find him," she growls, "no excuses. No exceptions." The dull pang of fear smashes against her heart. She is on thin ice with Fabian and Sigwald. Her position is still new and could easily be taken away. It was a gamble and a test of faith to let her take her own sister to jail. The girl isn't in a cell yet and there is already a dilemma.
"I will explain it to Sigwald," Ryan explains, in no rush with this.
"There has been a development," Halia states, pointing to the second cell for Iris. The girl walks slowly like a shamed animal towards it. An actual animal walks beside her with a shamed, tail down pace to match. "Aaron was murdered. Iris is a suspect."
"What?" Ryan starts taking this more serious as he hears that murder is involved. "A murder? In all my time I have never heard of that happening. Heartholme is peaceful." It dawns on him, "The others from last night?"
"That is my theory," Halia says, "but working on the facts, we found Iris over the body. The weapon was right there." The woman rubs her own head as if she can coax out the facts in her current state. "So you have opportunity and," Halia looks to Iris as she closes herself into the cell, "motive."
"What motive would Iris have for harming Aaron? She is a sweet little girl that doesn't even hurt fireflies," Ryan says as everyone looks at Iris. "Is it because she is so beyond suspect that she is suspect? The whole 'the person you least suspect'? That would include half the town."
"No, you dolt, she was very close to the edge of the town limits. There was mist on the ground where we found them. It could have an effect," Halia says seriously. The mist itself is vapor. The local fable is that the mist can drive you mad if you inhale it. More than one mischievous townsfolk have used it during campside stories to entertain, but there is no proven cases.
"Thats ridiculous," Ryan debunks. On top of never seeing a case like that relate to the mist, his knowledge of what Heartholme is gives greater credibility to it not being a valid reason. Telling a stressed woman that everyone is in some weird wish town isn't going to help the situation, though.
"But people would believe it. They would make up an alternative truth to fill in the gaps of missing information to fit what keeps them living this painfully comfortable sweet life here," Halia says with venom in her voice. Ryan knows this to be true. It is a foundational issue with everyone remaining trapped in this town. "All the more reason for us to find the trio, get answers from them, and establish justice," Halia says with little faith in the last part, "whatever justice is, in this case." The woman heaves a heavy sigh, "Ok. I'm going out to look for the escaped prisoner. Can you manage to look over a 'sweet little girl' for the night or do you plan on leaving the cell unlocked?"
"It happened, we will figure it out," Ryan grumps back at the jab, "they can't go far with the town's boundaries. Murder makes it more dire." He strokes his beard. Jarvis mentioned that more bold action is required. Is this part of it? "I can watch the kids. Go and be careful."
"One of us has to," Halia says, tired already and the night is still young. She slams the door to the prison behind her.
Ryan walks over to Iris' cell. The short, old dwarf takes his time getting over there. He is closer to her height, but still needs to tilt his head up to get eye to eye contact with her. "Tell me you didn't murder Aaron."
"I didn't," Iris says in a quiet seriousness. "The man with the scythe did."
"Death," Ryan asks. Its a highly magical world. Are agents of death coming in to claim the souls of Heartholme? Jarvis mentioned that the gods were angry, but this is extreme.
"No," Kyrin says as he looks over towards Orion, "he called himself 'Gig'." Iris makes a brief 'oh' and nods. That is what he introduced himself as.
"Gig," Ryan says, tightening a fist, "he did this?"
Kyrin nods his head, "Yes." Iris makes a different observation, "do you know him?"
Ryan takes a deep breath. Does one really know Gig? He exhales. "Enough to say that he is dangerous and unpredictable." There is a pause, "No, I think there is a predictability in that he always seems to show up no matter what. If we went to the blasted stars he would probably still show up and backstroke through the darkness." Iris and Kyrin look at each other in puzzlement. "Don't make a deal with him," Ryan says seriously, "thats the one thing you need to know. Stay away if you can. No deals. They don't end well."
"Are we still playing tomorrow," Kyrin asks to break up the upcoming tense silence before it starts. "Because. Nasdamn's trial is up next." Selfish not selfish request is made.
"If Tywin is up for it, I sorta need him to be there for this part of the story," old man Ryan says, "you want to go check up on the Targryn brothers and let me know?" Kyrin grins as much as a wolf can grin as he heads on to the door. "On it." Stopped by a door. "Can you?" Ryan shakes his head and lets the dog, albiet bit and fierce dog, out.