Ch 2, reg 7: Casual Vacancy

_______________________________

Chapter 2 - The Legislature

Regulation 7: Casual Vacancy

If the position of a Senator becomes vacant before the expiration of their term of service, a replacing Senator shall be elected from the eligible candidates in accordance with that domain’s method of election.

________________________________

Madame S stared up at Him, bitterness distilled in its purest form within her clouded gaze. Through a hoarse voice, she answered.

“If you think that there is any universe in which we yield to your barbarism, then your delusion is truly complete.”

“You would refuse our joint destiny? Your father’s vision of ruling the Other Side through the Old Ways?”

“We have never wanted anything less. Just kill us and be done with this, so that our memory may haunt you for the rest of your doomed attempt at salvaging your legacy.”

The man in the white suit stared at her. There was a flicker of something in His hard eyes, like a crack in a stone. Then, it settled, and he shook his head as if to refuse the betrayal of insight into His hidden emotions.

“Very well. If that is how it must be.” He said finally, as if remarking on the change of weather. He raised the blade, its keen edge kept eternally unsullied through its own minor magicks, and he thrust it towards her heaving chest. A flash passed in the space between them, followed by the wake of a quick brush of air, and the blade ceased its momentum. It tremored in mid-air.

The two-faced man stood before the collapsed Senator, both faces red with exertion as his hands gripped onto the man in the white suit’s arm, keeping the trembling blade from falling and dealing its terrible justice. The man watched the receptionist with an odd expression, regarding the figure who was very small before him with an expression caught somewhere between bemusement and disgust.

With a strained yell, the receptionist pushed His sword hand to one side, letting its blade plummet into the ground a metre from Madame S’s head with an explosive burst of earth and soil. They used the movement to place themselves properly between the two battling Senators.

“Left!” Higi called and they ducked below His oncoming haymaker, the giant fist shredding the space between them and atomising the flakes of ash that had begun to fall from the sky upon them. The receptionist quickly recovered, stepping back while dragging Madame S out of immediate danger.

“What are you doing?” Madame S coughed through gritted teeth. “You cannot beat him.”

“We know.” Midari said.

“But we can buy some time.” Higi said, through a forced smile.

“For what?” Madame S asked.

“For help to arrive.” They stood, staring at the imposing figure of the invading Senator.

“You have disturbed a sacred ritual, boys. It is forbidden.”

“Oh, how fascinating. Do you…?” Higi asked, trailing the question off to his partner.

“Nope. Yourself?” Midari answered.

“Not at all.”

“Well,” Higi said, “it seems we’ve come to a consensus that we don’t care.”

Their battle began as He charged.

—---------

Gemma groaned, taking off her glasses to rub at her temples in a vain attempt to massage out the migraine that was assailing her senses. Miniature characters of scrawled script blackened the parchment that sprawled across the desk. She placed her glasses back on and continued to read from the place she had left.

“We're running out of time.” Eve added, which was returned with a hard glare from Gemma.

“Thank you, Eve. May I add how fortuitous for our chances it has been that you’ve chosen to be incredibly helpful.” She looked pointedly at Eve who was reclined back in the chair, and was kneading the soles of her feet with her knobbly knuckles. The effect of her stare was unfortunately lost on account of Eve’s eyes being closed.

“Just doing what I can. Though, all this legal language isn’t good for my brain. And all that running wasn’t good for my feet.” She said, waving her hand as if swatting a fly. Gemma tried to keep herself from thinking about her waste-of-space colleagues back home. She tempered the moment of seething anger that bubbled up as she imagined that they were probably letting her caseload pile up unattended in her absence. She shook her head in a valiant attempt, that almost worked, to shake loose the realisation that her fantastical sojourn into this new world had somehow resulted in her doing the exact same thing that she had been so desperate to escape.

“What are you, hmm, looking for exactly?” Eve asked, through small hums as she worked the knots from her muscles.

“That dodgy attendant said, rather specifically, that this document,” she pattered about the pile of documents, peering beneath them before finding and holding up the domain’s rules, “does not limit the qualifications of a challenger to the Senator.”

At the mention of the attendant, Eve shuddered and sat up, focusing her eyes upon the table.

“Yes, I recall.”

“The wording of which would suggest that there is a chance that some other document does.” Gemma looked across the collection of paper and parchment that had continued to arrive with each request she had made to their attending archivist. The skeleton currently lay still on the floor by the door, staring at the ceiling in a daze, worn down and exhausted by the constant demands.

“So, we’re looking for the document that would exclude Him from challenging Madame S to a Contest.” Gemma bristled at the collective pronoun but coughed to hide it.

“Exactly. But whoever wrote these statutes has written them in a way that truly boggles the mind.”

“That would be the Council for you. Ask for one simple thing, and they’ll give you three complex ways to get something else.”

“Most of these have inter-referential links to completely separate pieces of legislation, none of which are provided with any context and all of which link to even further documents. Like this one.” She said, her finger following each word on the section of parchment as she read it. “It says that section forty-two, which pertains to the rights of the Senator, operates to the natural exclusion of section twenty-three-point-two of the Transitional Domain Rules, which…” she switched to the paper by her side, “stipulates the exclusions of the powers of a Senator to be contained in the Appendices of Direction number twenty-one, subtitled Rules of the Senate, which…,” she flicked through the parcel of paper before her, “we don’t have.”

Anticipating the request, the skeletal archivist rolled over to pick himself up slowly from the floor, his body shifting to a chorus of creaks and cracks. Eve waved him down, which he accepted with a sigh of relief, sliding back to the floor.

“So, it would be impossible to know where an exclusion might be included if there was one.” Eve said.

“Not impossible.” She said, though not entirely convincingly. “Just incredibly time consuming.”

“And time is something we do not have.” Eve said. “There has to be something.”

“I’m beginning to think that the only hope we’ve got is to find a legal justification that is so obscure and out of left-field that they’ll have-”

“Left-field?”

“Ignore that. Something so obscure that they won’t have prepared for it and they’ll have no choice but to cease the Contest, and spend time drafting submissions to find fault within our position and justify theirs.”

“Oh,” Eve said, “is that all? Doesn’t sound too hard.” She smiled. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Don’t let me distract you.” She leaned back in her chair, and continued to massage her feet.

Gemma stared at her, and restrained herself from imagining awful things as she snatched a quill and inkpot and set about writing on a new piece of parchment.

—---------

“Up!” Higi yelled. They jumped, bringing their knees high to avoid the slashing blow at their ankles. The blade sliced through the crops, which were strewn back in an instant by the squall generated by the strike’s momentum. The smoke and steam emerging from the darkened landscape swirled about the combatants. The man in the white suit dragged the sword back into a close grip, and unleashed it in a piercing thrust towards them. The point of the blade tore through the smoky haze with a shriek. They twisted out of the way, letting the blade slide past, and revealing an opening. The receptionist had a half-moment of hesitation as they twitched towards the gap in His defences, before they stepped back, and jumped out of his range.

“We could have hit Him there.” Midari said.

“Focus on defence. We're not looking to win this. Just trying not to lose.” Higi replied.

“Down!” Midari called.

The blade sang as it sliced through the air towards them, propelled in a twisting, spinning throw.

They dropped down at their knees, collapsing to the ground as it tore overhead and slammed into the ground behind them. The earth wrenched upwards in a blast of debris, heads of wheat bursting into chaff. The receptionist rolled themselves off the surface as He followed up with a chasing flurry of fists, each one exploding the earth it contacted, pockmarking the field with its impacts. The receptionist continued to step out of the way as they came back into a crouch. The man turned, with remarkable speed not disadvantaged nor slowed by his immense size, and launched a punch with His left.

“Step back!” Higi called.

As they went to step away from the meteoric punch, wiry arms wrapped around their legs from behind, arresting their motion and locking them into place.

“Gotcha.” cooed the attendant from behind them, as His fist collided with the chest of the receptionist. A wet crunch sounded in the domain, echoing about its space. Both Higi and Midari let out a pained gasp as they were launched from the strike into a crashing roll through the crops, sliding into a mound together with Madame S.

“You should have run, you idiot.” She croaked.

They let out a whimpering chuckle, as they attempted to bring themself to stand, collapsing into a heap as their muscles failed them.

“A bit late for that.” Higi said.

The man in the white suit strode across the overturned earth to their position. He reached down and grabbed them, pulling them up from the ground by their throat. They struggled, flailing their feet into his chest and pounded their fists against His giant hands.

“To interfere in the ritual of Contest is forbidden, and carries grave penalties.”

He thought in silence for a moment, hand unflinching as He gripped at the struggling receptionist's throat.

“How many witnesses are required for a Contest?” He asked.

The attendant called out, voice weaselly and thin.

“Only two, my Lord.”

“So, we only need one of you to finish this, then.” He said. He put His hands about the sides of their head. A moment passed before a flicker of light bloomed, and blue flames burst from His palms, enveloping the receptionist’s head in a terrible blaze. There was an awful scream that erupted from their joint lungs. One of pain, one of terror. After it was done, and the sound was over, He dropped the silent receptionist to the ground.

Madame S dragged herself along the broken earth, using her last reserves of energy to bring herself to the unmoving form of the receptionist.

“Treasure, can you hear me?” Midari whispered, their voice breaking upon the tides of the onslaught of pain and fear. “Higi, speak to me, please.”

There was no response. Madame S reached out a hand to her assistant and friend.

The man in the white suit picked up His blade once more, and approached the fallen pair. As if in anticipation for the tragedy to come, the sounds of the domain had fallen silent. The bubbling of the molten earth ceased, the shrill whistle of jettisoning steam calmed. All that could be heard was the slow breathing of the man in the white suit as He approached, readying Himself to deliver a final note to the symphony of chaos He had brought to their domain.

“Wait!” came a desperate cry from afar. The Senators looked towards the inn, where Gemma stood at the top of the path, gripping a torn sheaf of paper that fluttered in the wind. Both Senators, for very different reasons, released long sighs.

“You will wait, damn you.” She said, pointing with ink-splotted fingers at the man in the white suit. Eve reached her side, gasping through pained breaths. The man, grip still clasped about the sword frozen in its deadly motion, watched the two approach, as a hunting dog watches a rabbit. Gemma was storming down the path, bristling with anger. As she reached them, she gave a glance to Madame S and the receptionist, letting out a moment of internal rejoice that she wasn’t too late. She thrust the document out in front of Him. He glanced at his attendant who rushed over in small hurried steps to collect it. As he cast his eye to pore over its contents, she spoke in as clear and loud of a voice as she could manage.

“We, being the denizens of this domain, do hereby object to this Contest.”