The Mind Raiders
A cure for crime in a world of questionable utopianism
A nimbus of gold surrounded the torch, flickering across the empty road. The rain descended in the nightfall and clouds stormed across the sky, creating a broken underbelly. Yefel urged her horse onwards through the deluge. The spare mare between her and her fellow Mind Raider, Fabian, grumbled ungainly in its descent. Large crimson flags fluttered from their saddles. The insignia of the Lost Crown—roses twined in angel wings—emblazoned proudly on their sides.
Up ahead the road broke like a fork into three uneven trails. Fabian pulled on the reins, stopping short and gazing full in her face. He had a rugged strong appearance, cunning agate eyes and coal black hair. “Which place did they say it was again?”
“The Reice District. That’s across the ridge.” Yefel gesticulated to the right where a familiar village glimmered distantly over a rushing river. Once it represented the most extensive criminal domain of Wall Rose. Such was the state of felony that its residents were surely doomed to ignominy and perdition. Now it had a hospitable appearance; the streets were well-kept, a cathedral had been built to seat an episkopos, and the people civilised. Despite the face of calm, Yefel could sense an unruly mental energy pervade the Reice’s residents. Like a disturbing ripple across stilled waters. She gritted her teeth. He was here all right.
“I forgot you were originally from Reice. What’s it like?” asked Fabian, his face flaring scarlet in the cold.
“Dangerous,” she murmured after a moment’s thought, “At least it was ten years ago.” Yefel did not look at him as she spoke. Her eyes were miles away.
Ten years ago, Wall Rose—a stone barrier that outlined the various districts and capital—was ruled by a corrupt tyrant of a man known as Coltachin. He had indulged in spendthrift as his people famished. In desperation, common folk were reduced to thugs, assassins, and bandits on behalf of affluent merchants to survive. Yefel had grown up in the worst of the districts. When the vices of mankind were impeded in this small spot of the world and the streets beleaguered in chaos. The bodies of the dead flanking the boulevards, starved, or murdered with grave worms crawling in the folds of their flannels. These scenes of felony impressed themselves deeply into her mind, reminding her why her duty was so necessary.
That was before the Lost Crown had risen to dominion—the last Queen of the Crown lineage. Since her ruling she had developed the Pre-Offence System. Now, thanks to Mind Raiders like herself, they were able to detain lawbreakers before they had even thought of committing a crime. Now crime was a distant evil-far removed from the peaceful Wall Rose.
As Fabian and Yefel reached the village centre, a strange mental energy snagged softly at Yefel’s senses, elongating from the Headless Hostelry. Despite the lonely quietude of the street, the tavern bustled with noise: people dancing in merriment, the clatter of heavy boots and the wild, carnal passions of drunken laughter. The pair stationed their horses and entered inside. Keeping their hoods up they picked a booth as inconspicuous as possible.
“So, who are we after?” Fabian lazed back, the picture of ease. Yefel rolled her eyes. Fabian rarely prepared for any of their missions but always relied on her in his youthfully, carefree way. The two were an unlikely pair of friends; both different in nature and principles. Since the beginning, Fabian had found the Pre-Offence system morally unagreeable whereas Yefel considered it the best thing to have happened in Wall Rose.
“Regan Freir.” She passed him a small black notebook across the table. Fabian opened it and studied the information inside. He held up a picture of a paunchy man with elusive, owl-like eyes. “He was captured by Mind Raiders a year ago only he got away before they had imprisoned him. They say he had a mental reading of 160—the highest yet. Somehow, he managed to escape here from the capital.”
Since the Pre-Offence System it was custom for Mind Raiders to imprison any citizen with a mind reading above 90. This separated them from innocent civilians. Although many of them had not committed a crime their likelihood of offence was high. That was why the Lost Crown had deemed them dangerous.
“If his mental reading is 160 there’s a high chance he’s been Fire Marked,” Said Fabian. People that were Fire Marked by the Lost Crown had worryingly high mental readings. Mind Raiders who were able to capture such outlaws were usually awarded a hefty sum of gold by the Queen.
“What I want to know is how someone with such a high mental reading evaded us for so long. They have Mind Raiders on all the vital roads. Every gate is sectioned off. The only entry is if you have a psyche permit so how did he get here from the capital?—" she noticed Fabian’s gaze was elsewhere and glowered scathingly. “Are you even listening?”
Following his eyes, Yefel noticed a man standing by the hearth. The throbbing cores of fire danced in the darkness like living creatures, endowing him in a celestial glow. His back was turned. Nothing but the thick brown hair lacquered to his skull could be made of his features, and yet his form was engulfed in a gleaming red vapour. Those with dangerous mental readings always exuded a certain scarlet smog. To anyone else the vapour would go unnoticed. None but the trained eyes of a Mind Raiders could perceive it.
“Must be him.” As the pair approached him Fabian cleared his throat. Regan swivelled around at the sound and fixed the pair with wide, disconcerted eyes. Before he could run Yefel had shackled his hands in iron cuffs.
“You’re Mind Raiders. No! You can’t take me! I’ve committed no crime!” There were shards of frustration in the man’s voice.
“You avoided captivity by the capital, despite knowing that you are a latent danger to society. The act violates clause six of the humanity charter; to prioritise oneself over the safety and longevity of humanity,” Yefel spoke the words in a rigid, mantra like fashion. An unwelcome change stirred in Regan’s eyes. A fear had nestled into his thoughts, as if a parasite had begun encroaching on his brain. Yefel had long since learnt to cast her sentiments aside when it pertained to her work. It was necessary. Without such precautions the world would fall once again to chaos. By law they had no choice but to cuff Regan, bringing him out into the darkening downpour.
*****
A waning twilight threw their shadows westward, so that they became elongated and strange on the opposing embankment. The three rode their horses through the abrasive gale, Regan centred in the middle, his saddle attached to theirs by firm rope. They had scarcely left the Reice District before the prisoner indulged himself in melancholy pleadings, determined to convince Fabian of his innocence. Of the two Mind Raiders, he had more luck rousing empathy from Fabian then herself. Despite her innocent face and hair of youthful living gold, her expression was spoiled by a serious frown. Fabian in comparison glowed, without word or gesture of kindness.
“Please. I have a child,” Regan spoke with unsteady ardency. “My wife is grievously ill and will die surely soon. If I am to go to prison she will be orphaned. I can avow now that I will never commit a wrongdoing. Just please don’t separate us.”
Fabian started, a touch of pathos growing grave in his darkening eyes. Yefel had sensed that there had always been a slither of panic in him, deeply buried when it came to the tragedies of others.
“Fabian” she cautioned, “do not be swayed by your emotions. Remember why we are doing this.” Fabian scowled back at her reproachfully. “Oh have a heart Yefel. You can tell by his nature he is completely harmless. What if we were to tell the Queen we couldn’t find him and—”
“Are you suggesting treason Fabian?” Fabian said nothing, but looked, for the first time, a little discomfited . Yefel could sense uneasily that his mental reading was higher than usual. She had often considered this job didn’t suit his nature. He was too easily empathetic to the woes of others. She worried that sympathy of his would one day find its terrible outlet.
*****
For one week they journeyed to the Lost Crown. During that time, Fabian and Regan had formed a troubling camaraderie. One that could only invoke misfortune . Upon their arrival, she was not surprised that Regan was sentenced by the Queen for public execution the following morning. She had also awarded the pair twenty thousand in gold. While Yefel felt delighted by such wealth she could sense the guilt Fabian felt as he accepted the Queens prize .
When dawn came, the general populist, full of merchants, mind raiders and noblemen, gathered in the Capital square. The Lost Crown sat at the forefront of the crowd, swathed in a veil of violent rivulets. Upon her head she wore an ornamental headpiece of the brightest gold. Yefel had always admired the woman who had salvaged Wall Rose from corruption in its worst shape. Seeing Fabian’s expression however had dulled her reverie. A silent rage scoffed at the rim of his charisma and the shadows under his eyes, created an unsettling portraiture.
Regan was brought to the podium. He wore a yoke of hardwood with shackled legs and hands. As the executioner raised his weapon, and Regan’s last perishable breath struggled in the wind, she knew his death would forever haunt her.
“Stop!” Fabian’s voice clapped like thunder. Like a raging bull he had shouldered his way through the stunned crowd towards the Queen. Two Mind Raiders interjected his path, bounding his hands behind his back and roughly shoving him onto his knees before the Queen.
“Your majesty,” Fabian hissed “It is not necessary to continue the pre-offence system. Crime has gone down drastically in Wall Rose and yet we are risking imprisoning countless of innocent civilians—.”
“Wall Rose has become the ideal utopia” The Queen cried back in a provoked accent “but one foot outside and crime is unprecedented. The chance of occasionally imprisoning an innocent civilian is a small sacrifice for an extraordinary recompense—peace. I will not risk my citizens befalling such corruption again.”
“But you cannot excuse immoral actions for the sake of their ends!” Yefel had never seen Fabian this riled before. What the Queen was saying was perfectly reasonable. An overexpenditure of sympathy would lead them away from any rational discourse.
Fabian seemed quite unconscious of the effect he was producing in his mind, but the square full of Mind Raiders were bound too. The lucidly disturbing sight of red vapour emanated from him. In deadly unison the Mind Raiders uttered their motto. “Your Mind Reading is above the perimeter.”
The Lost Crown sighed genuinely at the scene. “Take him to the dungeons.” The Mind Raiders cloaks fluttered fervently as they escorted a raving Fabian away. He had snarled in their grasp, mouth contorting wolfishly, and cheeks flushed.
Yefel watched onwards incredulously. Reveries of the past had always strengthened her spirits while she pursued her job. No tear had ever moved her resolve. It had taken seeing her closest companion wrongly condemned to rouse the first seed of doubt in her principles. Yefel knew Fabian’s nature better than anyone. He was a person of endless kindness .
Yefel was silent for a long time, staring bitterly at the portcullis as it closed behind her friend and he disappeared into the encroaching darkness. The crowd dispersed. The capital returning to the humdrum of their lives. But not Yefel. She stood there paralysed. Her core a turbulent storm of emotions. Around her the world ticked its mundane mantra but to her eyes it had changed irrevocably.
About the Creator
Wonita Gallagher-Kruger
Hello,
I write Little Stories and Film Reviews. Please join me on my writing crusade. IG: wonita.gallagher.kruger
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