Fantasy Justice: Incarceration
Chapter 40

Sunday, May 30th, 2060

Felorius, Unholy Alliance Territory

May sat despondently in her room. She had materialized her radio earlier as a distraction. It droned on about reports in recent inmate texts that Lillian Huntington had been arrested. May absolutely did not care. She finally disappeared the device.

The magical girls had arrived in the city the day before after an uneventful journey. At the cathedral, May had turned the body over to Bishop Bell. He had messaged Pari’s parents, and then had informed the party that the in-game funeral would be held at noon the next day. Sara had offered to give the news to everyone concerned.

May had then left the others behind and rode home. Once in her room, she had stayed there. Someone had knocked on her door at one point during the evening, but she had ignored this. Mostly she had just laid in bed, lost to memories and self-recrimination.

There was another knock. It was time to leave for the funeral. May materialized the same outfit she had worn for Death Legion’s service. It was the black suit from her plea bargain, but the red shirt had been replaced by a dark gray one she had bought for the occasion.

May joined the others out in the hall, who were also dressed as they had been that day. Clare was in a plain, gray dress. Sara wore her usual adventuring outfit, with the addition of a pillbox hat with a dark veil.

“May...” Sara said tearfully. The healer hugged her. May hated to see the other women in so much pain. Clare tried to be stoic as always, but the demon player could see through that facade. “We’re here for you if you need to talk.” Sara then finally drew back.

“What is there to talk about?” May asked bitterly. She looked away. “She died saving me, ’cause I wasn’t good enough.”

“That isn’t true,” Sara insisted. “If anyone failed Pari it was me—I could have fought the traitor by myself and prevented all of this. I ended up killing him anyway...so my decision that night accomplished nothing.”

“Stop it,” Clare said angrily. May and Sara looked to her in surprise. “You’re both wrong. The truth is, if any one one of the four of us had been just slightly better during that fight, Pari might still be alive. But we can’t blame ourselves for that. We pushed ourselves as hard as we could, and trained much more frequently than the other inmates. What little time we took for ourselves was necessary so that we wouldn’t burn out.

“And it’s useless to second guess our decisions. Maybe if we’d fought the Killers under different circumstances, there would have been a better result. Or maybe it would have turned out even worse—we can’t know for sure. All the decisions we made were justifiable with the information we had at the time.

“Whatever our mistakes, we all share the burden of them. Sara, you may be in charge during battle—but the rest of the time we have an equal voice. We understood the risks...and came to this horrible day together.”

“Thank you,” Sara whispered to Clare. May could not dispute the tank’s argument, and it alleviated at least some of guilt weighing down on her. Not trusting herself to speak without crying, she managed only a slight nod.

The trio left their building, and rode at a slower pace than usual for the cathedral. It was an absolutely beautiful day. She knew it was irrational, but May hated that the company had not had the decency to go with gray and overcast. ...But if they followed that logic, no inmate would ever see their virtual sun again.

They arrived at the cathedral to find a small crowd of inmates gathered on the steps, all facing Bishop Bell. He was standing in the doorway. John and Justine were present. The rest of the gathering were Rough Riders. May could not remember all the names, but she recognized the faces. These were all men and women the Magical Girls had trained with on many occasions.

There were angry murmurs among the tense crowd. But they parted to let the three women through. “What’s wrong?” Sara asked the bishop when she arrived before him.

“I apologize deeply. But Pari’s parents have just decided that no inmates are to attend the funeral, save brothers and sisters of the Church.”

“You have to know Pari wouldn’t have wanted this,” May said miserably. She felt too much despair to be truly angry over the slight.

“Yes. But I must respect the family’s wishes.” This further upset the crowd. May was concerned—Fantasy inmates as a group were not known for having the best impulse control.

Sara turned to address everyone. “I’m sure the company would like nothing more than for one of us to cause a scene—that would amuse the viewers at home.”

The people the healer had spoken to were all criminals. Many had committed truly reprehensible acts on the outside. But they were united in their resentment toward their captors. Everyone at last settled down.

“Bishop Bell, what time will the service end?” Sara asked him.

“It should be over by two. But I can’t know how long Pari’s parents might chose to stay.”

Sara again faced the inmates. “Let’s meet by the grave at four, and hold our own memorial.”

The crowd dispersed. Justine lingered to hug all three of the survivors. Clare had to belatedly lower her separation field. “I’m so sorry this happened. I’ll see you soon,” the tailor told them sadly before departing. They each nodded gratefully.

The bishop went inside his church, and only John remained with the women. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “And for my role in it. I advised you to leave the situation to the Assassins, and following that advice led to this tragedy.”

“Did the Assassins ever have so much trouble eliminating a target before this?” Sara asked.

“No.”

“Then you couldn’t reasonably have foreseen this outcome.”

John nodded gravely. “Thank you for saying so. ...I know it’s small comfort, but Pari died defending those she cared for most. There is no more noble death.”

“Only it wasn’t the battle that killed her,” May said bitterly. “Some corporate drone following instructions pulled the plug. And I doubt they lost any sleep over it—not over killing someone who plead guilty to murder.”

“I can’t deny that,” John admitted. “But those interpretations of her death aren’t mutually exclusive.”

May nodded sadly, and he continued. “If you prefer, I can wait here to inform any latecomers of the change in plans.”

“Thank you,” Sara said. John did his usual salute with a bow, and the women returned it. They then ambled slowly away from the cathedral with no direction in mind.

Once they were alone, Sara spoke. “I hate to say it, but a part of me is glad we were turned away. I don’t feel like I could take any afterlife talk right now.”

“I understand,” Clare said. “I’ve always been uncomfortable at funerals. I know religious speakers genuinely believe what they say...but I could never believe no matter how hard I tried.”

“I stopped believing a long time ago,” May admitted. “At first it was more like, I was mad at God because he let my father die. But then I realized how narrow that view was—thinking some deity who lets countless people die senselessly would suddenly get off his ass just to save my dad. The whole concept fell apart for me after that. ...And the only person who could’ve changed my mind is gone.” Sara placed a comforting hand on May’s arm.

The three adventurers passed the time that followed wandering aimlessly. They shared memories of Pari, but at other times walked in silence. May thought about what she ought to say at the service.

Eventually they turned back, and passed through the western gate. Many of the other inmates they had seen earlier were also traveling in that direction. They all headed for the section of the vast graveyard where new casualties were being interred.

By shortly after four, everyone was assembled. May noted absently that, because the natural environment in Fantasy repaired itself so quickly, grass was already growing over Pari’s grave.

No one was quite sure how to begin, so John spoke. “When I founded the Rough Riders, I promised myself that I would attend the funeral of every warrior I fought alongside or trained. I soon came to know how absurd that promise was—to keep it I would have had spend the last eight years traveling all over our territory, going to service after service.

“So why am I here, now? Not only was Pari Tehrani my friend, but she gave me renewed hope. When I first laid eyes on her, she seemed too scared to hold her morning star steady—or even make eye contact! I cynically thought she would accomplish nothing of note in this world.

“In only a few short months, with the help of her friends, she grew into a fierce warrior. And if someone who seemed so weak could prove to be so talented and bold, then I have to believe the potential to be so much greater than we are now resides in all of us.

“She achieved much in her brief time here. She set an example of quiet dignity and strength. All of you here who trained with Pari will carry what you learned from her for the rest of your lives. And had she not fought in that final battle, some or all of her party members might have perished in her place. For all the Magical Girls may go on to accomplish, Pari will deserve part of the credit for their deeds.”

After John fell silent, Sara gave her thoughts. Her voice was heavy with sorrow. “Even before Pari found her courage, she was a gentle and kind person. She was that way despite—or perhaps because of—the difficult life she had. It was her compassion that drove her to surpass her limitations. For every danger she faced, she did so because she wanted to prevent senseless deaths.

“It was a joy to see her come out of her shell, and I was privileged to call her my friend. She made this prison so much more bearable. And we’re all diminished for having lost her.”

May was next to the healer, but she was too choked up to speak. So she briefly touched Clare’s arm. The tank understood and spoke next. “I didn’t get to know Pari as well as I could have. And I regret that now. I was another who doubted her potential. The rest of the party had the dumb luck to be naturally talented as this game—Pari clawed her way up to our level with sheer determination.

“You all know how terribly I betrayed my party. But Pari was quick to give me another chance. Not because she was naïve, but because she saw that my regret was genuine. But I’d hardly spent any time with her—so the fact that she was willing to trust her instinct without truly knowing me was all the more remarkable.

“I came to believe in her as well. There were three people I trusted with my life. Now, there are only two.”

May would have never imagined someone so reserved could give such a heartfelt tribute. She burst into tears. Sara did as well. After some time, May recovered enough to share her thoughts. “If Pari was more scared than the rest of us, it was only because she had more sense. She was everything you all said, and more. She was vulnerable, and innocent, but she also had so much strength buried deep down.

“Even before she came here, there was so much pain and loneliness she survived. And it was so hard for her after she was arrested too. The day we lost Death Legion she was so terrified...but she still thought to bring their bodies home for the sake of their families. That’s how much concern she had for others.

“Sometimes she was quiet while everyone else socialized, but I was always so glad she was there. She helped me learn to forgive. I envied her for her faith—it gave her clarity in a world that’s so messed up.

“I’d never...” May struggled to keep speaking. “...I’d never been truly in love with someone before Pari. I wanted to share my life with her, to give her everything, to keep her safe...

“But during that last battle, when we fought side-by-side...it was Pari who sacrificed herself for me. Somehow, I’ll forgive myself for that. Because I know it’s what she would’ve wanted.”

May finally broke down sobbing once more. Sara put a comforting hand on one of May’s arms, while Clare did the same at the other.

There were no further speeches, and the gathering turned to conversations about Pari. The crowd slowly dwindled, with each inmate offering condolences to the party before leaving. John and Justine also reminded the magical girls to come find them if they wanted to talk. The trio were grateful, but preferred to deal with their grief more privately for the rest of the day.

Finally May, Sara, and Clare stood alone before Pari’s grave. “She loved you, as much as you loved her,” Sara told May. “She just couldn’t accept her feelings because of the circumstances.”

“Thanks,” May said tearfully. She then looked to the headstone. “Pari, I wish so much that you really were on some cloud with a harp, watching us. I’d want you to know that, whatever gold I don’t need for Invasion Day, I’ll give to the Church. I’ll try to do everything you wanted for this world.”

The magical girls then turned and slowly walked away together.

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