“Justin. Why do you think that is all going to happen?” I normally would ignore the ramblings of a daydreaming child or a drunkard, but Justin didn’t have any detrimental status effects, according to Robin, whom I trusted to get that much right. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I can see the future.”

“That’s not how prognostication works.” I answered automatically, having had years of people not understand the very same thing. “Try again.” 

“No, yeah. You’re right. I am not a seer. I was going to unlock Enchanter as an occupation but I need to get to Scamarand to do that.” Scamarand was a large port town east of here, three days by horseback. “I mean that…” He paused as if preparing himself to let me in on a big secret. “I literally know the future. I’ve been reincarnated into this- this universe. I was born outside this universe, where this is a… a story, and I know what terrible things are bound to happen, because the-”

I shook my head again, and he trailed off, “That’s not what I mean. Justin, tell me, how do you know your delusions are real? Can you provide me with some evidence or context that couldn’t possibly be faked, imagined, or be a result of memory alteration?” In my limited experience with people who are seeing unreality, it is sometimes sufficient to challenge their defined beliefs with reality. 

“Well, I snuck out of Sanctum in order to stop a bomb that was going to interrupt my and my co-years’ Initiation ceremony made by Red Dawn Cruxists. That was… four days ago? You might have seen something about it? I, ah, didn’t really defuse the bomb. I just set it off early.”

News from Sanctum had arrived yesterday that something big had happened, but I didn’t concern myself too often with issues outside of Sumar City. Yesterday was also my day off for the week. 

“You cannot verify your ability to see the future by confirming your past events.”

Justin’s eyes grew wide, as he came back to the bars, sticking his hands through again. I watched them warily. I did not forget his hand-to-hand skill rank. “Wait, Sca- Officer Fortuna. If I can really prove I know something I couldn’t possibly have knowledge of, would you help me?”

“If you can prove you have true knowledge of future events, I will consider making a recommendation that you get removed from maximum security. I don’t have the ability to free you. You could obtain the services of a solicitor in a different cell.”

“That’s… not ideal, but it’s better than being here. I’d forgotten how cold Kobolds were. Sanctum elders always said they didn’t have souls.” My feather crest flattened again, just as I’d started to assume I might be treated with some respect. Justin seemed to pick up on this, and quickly said, “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Officer. I think your kind are fine. I didn’t mean to… ah. I’m sorry.” 

I looked at him again, baring sharp teeth in a mock grin that usually disarmed Human thugs faster than polite words and a mace.

“You are not forgiven presently until you stop doing that. And if you fail to prove your true knowledge, I will suggest you are not only deceptive but also intend to sow discord within the royal family via malicious lies. You will be placed in an isolation chamber for ten days without food at a minimum. If what you say will happen is true, I suspect you would be forgotten in the chaos for weeks.” He looked paler, even given his pallid appearance. “I still feel I am being generous, Justin. So tell me, what are the events that precede your nightmarish Coronation that prove your innocence.” 

Justin paused long enough for my ongoing dictation to catch up.

Justin pulled open his own Deities’ Guidance, his menus glowing a deep purple, almost black. He seemed to be scanning through an impressive list of poorly sorted notes. Of course, I could not read them, but everyone’s notes were messy compared to a Scribe’s. “Um, well, I know that City Governor Dameron’s husband didn’t abandon him, he was called away on a secret mission and couldn’t tell him where he left a love letter and memoir. It’s been in the Library of Dreams for the past five- no, three years, along with a Necklace of Presence, which is a sweet midgame boost to your stats if you keep it. It’s in the fifth floor red tower reading room behind a loose white stone in the wall. In the game, you meet his husband, Seravin in the Mines of Derint, when you become an indentured prisoner-”

“Justin, let me remind you that while this sounds both unbelievable and very detailed, something being planted three years or three days ago does not count as foreknowledge. It also has nothing to do with a new war between the Drakengard and the Sumar Empire. Focus on the future, not the past.”

“Ah okay, so um, in the game, the Ambassadors get killed en route through the Great Northern Valley pass, and no one in the city has seen the delegation so they can’t verify who is who. Um. Um.” Justin began bouncing in place, hands gripping the bars, looking quite like a rather tall brownie desperate for praise. “There’s a group of bandits that are dressing as scarecrows north of town who are attacking the Coverinth family farm but that started yesterday. I didn’t prevent it.” He looked at me and saw my rather unimpressed expression. 

Still bouncing, he elaborated, “What about the coronation? They are going to use red and blue banners lined in gold across the city. The platform is going to be assembled in the Center Sumar Greens, underneath the trees covered in orange flowers. They will have royal guards at each entrance to the Greens, but no one will notice the extra people coming out of the unused wells that connect to the undercity. I know more, can I use my knowledge of the coronation cutscene? Can you verify it?”

I gestured with a shrug, “As much as any city guard could. If you hadn’t tried to invade the castle then your intimate knowledge of the coronation’s plans and security protocol, if accurate, might actually have been verifiable to the royal guard themselves. They won’t trust you now.”

“Fuck.” He grabbed the bars but they didn’t seem to be able to contain his vibrations to jog his memory. “The main character, moving as quick as possible, gets in town the day of the coronation and might spot the event, but can’t stop it. I was able to shortcut a bunch of scenes to get here early.” I didn’t say anything as he yammered on. I wondered if he was just panicked at losing his chance to convince anyone of his madness, or always this rambling. 

“There’s a crier as you enter the town. He’s a Gnome, but not one of the evil ones.” I could have said something here, but I was stretching my patience long enough for Justin to finish. “He says the town guard was banned from going to the Coronation, which left security to the Royal Guard. It happens because… It happens because the city guard’s High Investigator had been caught and killed in a suspected smuggling ring a few days before. There were questions about how far the corruption might have gone in the guard and Talina’s Uncle used it to overtax the royal guard at the-”

“Smuggling? You are saying Captain Raim is a smuggler?” My voice was all growl now, barely contained fear and fury at this accusation leaked from every syllable. “Explain!” I nearly stepped within reach, but stopped myself short, hand on my mace. 

He barely seemed to register my reaction, “No, it was something illegal but good. I think the Inspector was found to be smuggling refugees into the city, like Goblins and Kobolds out of Drakengard and Daeric slavery. I think I remember in the novelization that the Drake imposters showed up to the meeting disguised as advance scouts. The investigator could see through their disguise and got killed when he confronted them. I didn’t bother with trying to stop this bit of the story because I didn’t know how I’d bluff my way into a meeting of smugglers and it doesn’t really come up in the game.”

“Where did this happen, Justin? When?” I was the one pacing now, barely able to keep from running back up stairs, but desperate for anything this probable liar could dredge up. It could be all lies, but if it wasn’t… it was just too close to the roost for my taste. 

“Um, I think some Dwarven or Gnomish bar in Pikakoser Square, during the day? I didn’t read the books that close- where are you going?”

“To verify that you are not aware of future events.” My [Discern] was good and he was a terrible, transparent liar. He’d been casting for memories, not believable lies. He had nothing to gain by getting me to follow lies, I already told him I couldn’t save him. He wasn’t magically ill, just young and manic.

Intuition seized me and told me not to ignore this, stronger than it had in years. I could stay and ask more questions, but if this became a real interrogation, then someone might call on me and question what I was doing.

Hadassah

One of the most pervasive, nasty ideas that has been part of High Fantasy since its inception and through its gamification is that some races are 'just evil'. Gary Gygax, maker of Dungeons and Dragons, was an invenerate racist and white supremacist. Killing foreigners and killing evil races were synonymous in his original design.

Dungeons and Dragons is only now just barely considering that maybe inherent racial alignments was possibly just carrying on in that legacy. I kind of hope that the rest of high fantasy starts to follow.

You might be wondering why this is a particular bugaboo I repeatedly poke at throughout the book. I'm Jewish. I was raised being told that I would always be Evil to a vocal minority. The unfairness of that sort of assumed racial alignment sticks with you.