I ran away from the courtroom... and wandered the streets alone…

The "miracle" never happen. Maybe it was never meant to.

Because a "miracle" is something that doesn't exist.

ON BROKEN WINGS



***

“Well,” purrs the assassin, “seems Mr Wright has stepped up to save you.”

“Nick?” I choke. Or would. I’m bound and gagged, so I can’t form the sounds.

“He has indeed achieved Mr Engarde’s full acquittal. So our business transaction is, I believe, over. It’s likely my contractual obligation to release you.”

Acquittal? No…

Then again, he could be lying.

“Then release me!” I snap. But fighting the guy is hard. I’m so weak I fear I’ll pass out again - he’s been withholding water, too, the past few days. The assassin seems to get the type of thing I’m saying though.

“Oh, I can’t just release you. My obligation is to return Mr Wright’s precious item to HIM. Surely he’ll come to collect it?”


I’m not sure Nick even knows where I am now. I can’t channel Mia to tell her. She’ll be asphyxiated.


I think I’m underground, or in some kind of sewer or stormwater drain. The air is terrible – I can barely breathe. There’s an artificial light. By now it hurts my eyes. I have no idea if it’s day or night anymore and I can never sleep, anyway.

***

Some hours have passed. I’m not sure where Mr DeKiller is. He ungagged me and let me have a tiny sip of water, but I bit him, so now he’s just left a radio here instead of talking to me directly.

“Ms Fey?”

“What?” I snap. It’s not as forceful as I’d like. My throat is parched again already and I think I’m still dehydrated.

“Oh dear. It seems you aren’t as precious an item to Mr Wright as I had thought.”

“WHAT?”

***

It’s a while, but the radio crackles again. “Well, seems your ‘handsome price’ has arrived to save you after all.” He elicits a mechanical, grating, laugh. “He’s coming in now.”

“Nick?” I cough eagerly.

I recoil in confusion at the subsequently appearing figure.

“W.. who are you?” I enquire, just a little intimidated. That toaster mask is freaky, and for all I know, he’s just another kidnapper or assassin.

“Godot.” He smirks. “But your sister, Mia Fey, knew me as Diego Armando.”

“Um.” Is this a trap? The name is familiar. Mr Armando is slashing through my bounds with a knife.

He senses my incredulity. “Good. Less gullible than your mother - NOW, anyway. Kittens fall prey running to paper tigers! (Or maybe a wet sock.) I hope this has taught you discretion. But – you can trust me.”

He flashes something from his pocket whilst still slashing the ropes with the other hand. “I’m with the Justice Department, I’ve just qualified as a public prosecutor. And,” he continues, “I was a practicing defense attorney at Grossberg Law Offices, along with your sister.” My hands and body are now free, and he extends a hand to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mystic Maya Fey.”

My arms are totally numb and lack all feeling. Severely irritated I’m too weak to even lift them to reciprocate his gesture, I just snarl “Mr Grossberg betrayed us all.”

But Mr Armando just smirks again.

“Ah! The little kitten has picked up something from her sister, and wants evidence!”

He’s showing me a photo. He and Mia have their arms around each other. It all looks very intimate and happy. Vague memories are coming back. “But she just stopped talking about you! Did you..” He’s already shoving another newspaper article in my face. Something about how he was poisoned working on a case, and fell into a coma…

It’s all too much. Suddenly I can’t even care. I have other things firmly on my mind.

“Nick? Where’s Nick?” I just repeat. I still don’t really believe it. “Is he okay? Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Phoenix Wright.” My voice wavers. He wouldn’t really just abandon me, would he? Of course not! DeKiller was lying.

“Ohhhhh. Trite.” He laughs denigratingly at the name. “Well, that cowardly farce has at least had the sense to see he doesn’t have the right to face you, after what he did..”

“No! Nick was going to save me! What did they do to him?”

“Nothing. He simply betrayed you and your trust and ran away. I’m sorry, Ms Fey. You yourself reminded us of the sorry saga of Mr Grossberg. The mud in the coffee mug turned to dust, choked you, and blew away!”

“NO! Nick wouldn’t betray me! You’re lying!” I can’t walk, so Mr Armando is now carrying me. It’s such a relief to get out in the fresh air, I have no will to fight it. “Nick wouldn’t betray me. I trusted him…” Damn it. I think I’m going to pass out again. How long was I locked up anyway? Mr Armando is shoving another article at me. It’s a newspaper article about how Phoenix Wright forced the obvious murderer’s acquittal with every dirty trick in the book.

“If you need better evidence, we can watch the tape of the court proceedings at the Justice Department.” He’s matter of fact. A second article is proclaiming how another woman’s been sentenced to death, despite controversy of her being clearly innocent.

It’s my fault. I know it.

“I trusted him. I want to know why…”

“Coffee?”

It’s such a relief to get something into my stomach. I gulp it down in one go, uncaring of the scalding of my throat. The hollow gnawing of my stomach is replaced with a comforting warmth. But now it’s no distraction from the hollow gnawing of my heart.

“Nick…” I just choke. I can’t hold back the tears. It’s a little pathetic, but I soon pass out.

***

I feel myself waking up. Maybe it was all just a bad dream. I’m in a strange bed. Maybe I’m at the hospital. The police found me in time, and Nick is coming to see me…

No, this is somebody’s apartment. That guy from yesterday, Mr Armando, is sitting in a chair beside me.

It wasn’t a dream.

I panic. I’m in a strange man’s apartment, worse, in his BED?

“NICK!” I panic again. Maybe parts of yesterday were just a dream?

There’s a phone near the bed. I seize it, and dial Nick’s number.

No answer.

I dial the law office.

No answer either.

Wirth that mask, it’s hard to read Mr Godot’s expressions, but his mouth is deadpan.

“Mr Trite has disappeared. I believe he abandoned his phone in the courthouse.”

I want to run and escape the apartment, disappear too, but my legs annoyingly don’t seem to work properly.

“Let me see those articles again,” I demand, managing with effort to keep my voice steady. They’re just as bad as I remembered. Worse, actually.

“They’re probably LYING. I want to hear it from Nick himself.” I remember what happened with Mother. Not exactly, of course, but Mia was furious about it for the rest of her life…

“Well, he doesn’t seem to have the respect to do so. Isn’t that enough?”

“I’ll wait. Maybe he’ll come back. He’ll come back!”

Suddenly I flash back. It’s a bad memory. Mia and I would talk about how Mother would come back soon, and when she did we’d…

Then one day, Mia stopped talking about her coming back. Since I was too young to really remember her being there, it made little difference, but in hindsight, I could see it hit her hard. Then she started going to the city, studying stuff other than spirit training…

I’m crying again. Worst of all, I know I’m being childish. Mr Armando offers me more coffee. I’m relieved he’s not tactless enough to comment.

“I want to see the court proceedings.” That’s what Mia would do. But even knowing this, somehow I can’t bear to see that… that…

“I want to see State vs Andrews,” I amend.

***

It’s been two days. I keep my phone with me at all times. I check for new messages obsessively. I’ve left a note telling Nick to call me at Wright and Co. in case he decides to go back there. I feel sick constantly.

I’ve watched State vs Andrews a second time, hoping it will somehow change. (It doesn’t.) I’ve watched most of State vs Engarde. It’s almost unbearable. Mr Armando declares we need a break, and takes us to the café for coffee and cake.

I didn’t want to believe it, but it’s exactly like in the papers. Nick’s using every unethical trick to get Engarde free and pin the crime on Ms Andrews. It’s so obvious, the crowd even can see it, and is furious.

Watching Ms Andrews’ trial is possibly even worse. There’s not much her defense attorney can do (perhaps DeKiller or Engarde also paid him off?) Ms Andrews breaks down and cries at her guilty verdict. I cry too. I know she’s dying in my place. I almost feel like a murderer myself. Why was I stupid enough to follow the guy with the phone? Why did I *ever* make Nick think I asked him to rescue me? Why didn’t I force DeKiller to kill me, when I knew what was happening?

I’m still holding out hope he’ll send a message, but hope is waning.

Nick wouldn’t betray me.

But then I remember. I knew Aunt Morgan didn’t like me, but I never thought she’d betray me that way. Mother thought she betrayed us, and then she just disappeared and abandoned me. Even Mia left, even if she didn’t really abandon me. And Mother trusted people, and they just betrayed her.

Ms Andrews is going to be executed, and I feel it’s all my fault. I would have died to stop that, even. To stop Nick having to do that. I would have died for you. I guess it meant nothing to him.

“It’s my fault. Ms Andrews..” I can’t help gasping to Mr Armando. Maybe Nick was too dumb to read my message properly? Maybe I should have spent less time demanding rescue. I should have told him over the radio instead of crying for help.

“No,” growls Mr Armando. “It’s all that coward Trite’s fault. He was only using you.”

I face him, shocked, incredulous.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about Mr Wright,” he continues. “I’ve known him since before he even began law school. And he’s had some VERY dubious associations. But don’t feel bad. Even your sister was deluded. Mr Trite knew all about Mr White’s little plot against Mia, but he failed to lift a finger to stop it…”

“No!”

I refuse to believe it,

“Nick’s a clueless idiot he had no..”

“Couldn’t have expressed it better myself!”

“But…”

“He knew all about her project against White, and he knew the phone was being tapped. But he just blindly sat there and answered them anyway.”

“He didn’t know!”

“Then what exactly did that idiot do at his little desk all day? Adjust his hair?”

“Mia thought he was great!” I defend. “She told me he was a genius!”

“Do you think he’s a genius?”

“No,” I’m forced to admit.

I have a sudden idea.

“Maybe the phone wasn’t tapped until just before the crime.”

I get the sense if he could, Godot would roll his eyes. “No. And maybe he didn’t get a known murderer acquitted. And maybe he didn’t date a mass murderer and help her hide evidence.”

“What? Of course he didn…”

“I take it you have never read State vs Phoenix Wright [2013], take 1, Ms Fey?”

I have a feeling I’m about to.

“It’s probably overwhelming. More coffee?”

I could swear I’m becoming addicted.

***

I’m relieved it should still be a few years before Mother is officially no longer Master, because my own Master feelings are a mess. I’ve tried locking myself in the Channelling Chamber when nobody’s around and channelling spirits, but it scares me every time and I can only bring myself to channel Mia. Some stupid part of me is always expecting a gunshot, or an assassin to grab me, or… who knows what. Even being locked in the small space brings on a kind of panic. When I force myself not to think of Dr Grey’s murder, I instead just remember being locked up by DeKiller, and I always think of Nick.

Whenever I think about Nick I get mad, and I force myself to get more mad over how he betrayed me. And I know this is because it’s preferable to and can block out the pain of that other feeling. He abandoned me. That HURTS. But maybe I was wrong to think he ever cared about me, that he felt the way at all I felt about him. Maybe he only ever wanted me around to channel Mia. But why did he lie? Was he just tricking me, then at the train station? Why did he take my case the day we met? Why did he lose it when I claimed I was a murderer over Dr Grey?

It’s much better to just get mad, and I whip it up again. How dare he betray me!

The remains of Kurain’s reputation was in tatters over the Engarde thing. It was the talk of Oh!Cult and all the tabloids.

Mr Armando wouldn’t let me read most of what was said about me, but it was pretty terrible. He was the one who bailed me out, again. Master? I can’t even look after myself. But they’ve finally got the idea from him and whatever resources he uses that I was just an innocent victim and everything was Nick’s fault. I have a horrible feeling all those stories aren’t true either, but I can’t bear to read them. I just hope Nick doesn’t have to either.

Nick’s just gone. The office is abandoned. Mr Armando gave me the money to pay the rent, because I have a stake in the business too. I didn’t like accepting money from him, but I don’t have much choice. Kurain’s finances are a wreck. Because of the fiasco, this exhibition of its sacred objects has been cancelled, and we lost money.

Pearly’s so upset, I don’t know what to do with her. For some reason, Nick’s ‘betrayal’ seems to have hurt her even worse than me.

Mr Armando’s offered to employ me in the Prosecutors’ office. If I can learn to make acceptable coffee. He’s really picky, though. So far he just spits out all my attempts in disgust. I can’t tell the difference. In my apartment, I just keep the cheapest kind of instant stuff – and I have to, ‘cause now I get withdrawal if I don’t have 5 cups a day minimum.

And if I don’t get employed by him, I’ll just have to move back to Kurain permanently, because I can’t afford the rent on my apartment. Well, I guess I could move into Wright and Co. but what if Nick comes back and is mad? And I’d have to pay the rent on THAT next month, anyway, and I… haven’t decided on that one. Besides, if I lived there, I’d think of Nick 24/7. That would be unbearable.

I tried applying for jobs at the supermarket and café, but they all look at me like I’m insane, and won’t give me an interview. I’m not sure why.

***



I’m not sure my new job as Mr Armando’s assistant is going too well.

I only ever got to go on one crime investigation. Now I always just have to stay back at the office and file. Mr Armando spent the whole time yelling (“Stop touching that, it might be evidence!” “No, that’s NOT what happened!”) and chugging coffee, alternately.

I get the sense he doesn’t find me very helpful. Practically everything I do seems to break one of his 'rules'. I can't help thinking I actually create more inconvenience for him that I solve.

And a lot of the time, Mr Armando gives instructions and talks in weird metaphors, and I do what he said, but he doesn’t like it. I guess I didn’t get it right, again. But I did what he said….

He doesn’t seem to like any of my suggestions to improve things around here, either. (But why can’t we have a TV? How boring!) Or any of my suggestions when I’m trying to help him with crime cases. He just looks at me like I’m insane. I don’t get it. Then he tells me to shut up, or go make coffee, or file in a different room, or something.

On many days, he ultimately just decides to send me to the thankless task of re-sorting the old, dusty files and evidence from long ago cases, in the Resolved Minor Cases records room. Pointless since nobody will ever look at at least 99% of them again – half of them aren’t murders, but minor crimes like shoplifting or severe traffic offences. And I’m supposed to weed out and discard files past their expiry date, and move the others along, to make space for new ones.

I know this is a waste of time, so I think he just does it to give me something to do, away from him.

He doesn’t bother checking very hard, so after I’ve sorted for about half an hour, I usually spend the remaining time reading old murder cases and looking at evidence. Most of them are really boring and straightforward too, nothing like the cases I worked on with… before. I wonder why?

I used to play Samurai Warriors™ on my phone instead, but then I got the phone bill, and it must be charged for time or something, because it ended up being more than I get paid as Mr Godot’s assistant.

***



Of course he doesn’t make the same kind of oversights on my other tasks, however. I try, really!

“I’m sorry! They don’t have photocopiers in Kurain!”

“Doubly reason for you not to attempt to change the toner yourself! How could it possibly run out already anyway, the maintenance staff changed it just yesterday!”

“Uh…” I’m caught in a beam of alien death glare. Now I know how Mr Armando corners and breaks down criminals.

He marches me to the crime scene, infinitely reminiscent of a murder site, save that the splashes and pools of blood flooding the scene, dripping down the walls, and smeared in unfortunate fingerprints are pitch black. Somehow this evidence-spoiler did not reach to the overflowing recycling bin. Mr Godot fingers a few pieces of this, clenches and unclenches his fists, then gulps three mugs of coffee in frenetic succession.

“MEEKINS!” he barks.

“Sir!” Meekins strangles himself in eagerness.

“Clean this up. NOW.”

“But Sir, I was just doi..”

“Do you want another salary review recommendation?”

“But M…Maya…”

“Ms Fey is otherwise occupied with our performance review meeting.” He drags me roughly around the corner. ‘My office! In one hour!” he hisses, jerkily releasing his grip and turning his back as if he can no longer stand to look at me.

The hot water and soap after I’ve scuttled into the Department restroom aren’t very good at making the toner budge. I’m in so much trouble anyway, I figure it won’t make things worse to sneak off and run home to change my clothes. Peeking in upon return, it seems the only toner successfully removed has been transferred onto Meekins, and his inky fingerprints have smeared together with my own.

I trepidatiously enter the office. It’s not quite as bad as I’d feared.

Mr Armando’s obviously trying to control his anger, but I can sense a worse tirade may be building.

“What exactly did they teach you as this ‘spirit medium’ thing in Kurain?”

“Oh! How to channel spirits!”

“I take it you aren’t up to, uh, full competence with that yet either?”

“Hey! I can channel, easy! Watch this!”

***

When I regain consciousness, I’m back in my apartment, a note from Mia beside me.

“I’ve convinced Mr Armando not to fire you. I think he considered today productive.”

The next day, when I arrive (only 18 minutes late!) instead of sighing in resignation, Mr Armando greets me with a genuine grin. He tells me he’s going to give me a pay rise.

***

Damn it, I’m getting sick of the prosecution assistant thing. It’s wearing me out.

All I’ve been doing in my spare time lately is trying to learn coffee techniques. I even borrowed books from the library on coffee. Maybe then Mr Armando will want me to channel Mia less. It’s getting awkward. Sometimes Mia just ignores my calls. I do have the powers to force reluctant spirits, but it’s not like it’s an emergency or anything.

Oh well, at least there isn’t deception like… that other person. I do know for sure that Mia is the main reason Mr Armando keeps me around.

***

I don’t know, for some reason with Nick, I used to feel almost superior, like I was actually worth something to him. I guess he was pretending to keep me by him. But with Mr Armando, I often just feel like the stupid little sister, who can’t even survive without him and Mia to protect and support her.

And worst of all, all the evidence just reminds me it’s true.

Case in point. I’ve just spent ages slaving over the coffee and snack (Mr Armando suggested mini-omelettes, but they sort of didn’t work out, so I heated a store-bought cake in the microwave.)

“Ha….!” greets Mr Armando. (Catchphrases, I’ll never get them. ) “Here’s the Master-elect’s mail. I took the liberty of pre-sorting out some of the junk.”

I’m a bit irritated. Can’t I handle the mail myself? “What kind of junk?” I demand.

“Oh, hate mail.”

I cringe. “I can handle the mail MYSELF!” I snap, but then I remember – I can’t. They re-routed all the Kurain business mail to me after Morgan was jailed, and after the Engarde fiasco, there was piles more. The tragedy of Adrian Andrews was in every gossip page and magazine and I received tons of hate mail and even death threats. They depressed me so much, I really did miss some of the important mail, and Mr Armando was happy to bail me out, again, even though I didn’t ask.

He smirks, then takes a sip of Godot Blend #1337. Or failed attempt at Godot Blend #1337, judging by the way he spews it out. “Oh, get back in the kitchen and learn to make proper coffee.” He’s joking, but it still rubs me totally the wrong way.

I snatch up the mail, brushing stray flecks of coffee off myself. Why is Mr Armando the only way I can ever see myself managing to begin any kind of financial security? I’m so bad at this Master thing. Even Mia seems to consider him indispensable to me. Besides, every time I get too upset, he showers me with gifts and doesn’t ask me to channel Mia, like he’s desperate to keep me around. And I can’t afford all that stuff otherwise, and then I feel I kinda owe him…

***



I’m jerked back to consciousness from a channelling. I rub my eyes and stare up at Mr Godot in confusion. He seems pretty irritated.

“Mia wouldn’t do anything unless you agreed to it in writing. Actually, she drew up a giant contract. Here it is.”

It’s a huge legal document. The law jargon is making my head spin, but Mia’s annotated explanations in the margins.

I seem to get a huge amount out of it.

Money (a lot of it), unlimited advice, ongoing legal services, access to classified Justice Department matters…

I just have to agree to…

“I thought you were already,” I admit.

“Good, so that’s a yes then?”

“NO!”

He seems confused. “Well, wasn’t that the arrangement you were doing with Wright?”

I tear it up.

I grab several sacks of luxury coffee beans and throw them around, incensed.

Godot seems taken aback. He didn’t predict this.

I dump a sack of coffee on his head.

“You’re acting like a child,” he observes, again unflapped.

Suddenly I feel very tired. I won’t even be conscious anyway, does it matter that much? It’s not like I’m any good at much other than channelling Mia. I channelled a harmless, recently deceased Mystic in the privacy of my own home, but I’m still scared over another disaster professional appointment. And Mr Godot is the only person of power still friendly to the Kurain cause. I can hear Aunt Morgan’s schoolmaster voice scolding me now. “Do it for Kurain.”

Shut the hell up.

“I’m leaving,” I announce. “I resign. I’m relocating to Kurain permanently. I’m looking after Pearly.”

Mr Godot’s mouth jolts open in horror at the mention of ‘Pearly’. Good. I’m out the door.

***



I fire off a furious letter to Mia and channel her. I want answers! How dare she!

The letter that comes back is deeply apologetic. I can almost believe Mia really does feel terrible.

It seems she had the impression I’d already agreed to all this with Mr Godot ages ago, and she was setting me up with a good deal instead of a bad one. She’s sorry. It’s hard to communicate when we never actually see each other. She thinks maybe Mr Godot had the wrong impression too, since I accepted all his help and gifts. “Sometimes some men can be dumb.” She’s supportive of my vow never to see or channel for him again. No, she and Nick never did anything unprofessional, just in case I was wondering. (‘I always thought he looked a little odd, actually.’)

I really wish we could talk in person, but Pearly refuses to channel or even train properly since the Engarde thing. It’s like Pearly wants to not train her powers, so mine look better. Mine are stronger anyway, but I’m a lot older, see. People still talk. I hate the whole thing!

Well, I’ve already decided. Pearly is my priority now. And I can look after myself!

***



It’s been a few months.

I don’t leave Kurain unless I have to, and then I go to a different city. Some of the other Mystics can channel, so we still have appointments, even though neither Pearly nor I can bear to.

But things still suck. I’m not good at any of this paperwork, and I’m not even the Master, so I have little authority or access to control or information. Mother still has all the reserved power and authority to actually do most things around here, even though she’s… not here. I didn’t think it was possible, but Kurain’s finances seem to be getting worse.

Mr Armando sends business letters. He claims he’s highly apologetic about our ‘previous misunderstandings’. He knows so much about Kurain affairs it’s scary. It’s like he has insider info I don’t or something.

So I take the initiative to write my own contract and I channel Mia to translate it into watertight legal-speak for me. The agreement includes stuff like I will never have to channel in Mr Armando’s presence, and he’s never allowed to touch me, regardless of what spirit I may or may not be hosting. If he breaks it, I’ll get Mr Edgeworth to take it up with him.

(I haven’t heard from him since he left overseas again ages ago, but I think he’d still do me a professional favour.)

Well, at least it should stop Mr Godot from thinking he can push me around, so maybe it’s safe to have a business-only meeting. The Kurain Board’s noticed how things are even worse since he stopped ‘advising’ me, and they keep actively demanding it.

***



Jan 30 2019

Pearly is really excited over the idea of this spirit training course she heard about.

I was so pleased to see her excited over something – it’s rare these days. And I figured the Ultra Course is just what I need. Maybe the spirit power boost will knock me out of my stupid fear of the Channelling Chamber.

In fact, I decided. I’m not helping anybody, least of all Pearly. I should just forget Nick, and concentrate on preparing to be Master. Next month, I won’t pay the rent on Wright and Co. Nick’s gone. It’s over. I’ll just pretend it never happened.

…No. I’ll just pretend he was nice enough to help me out, just doing his job, when I was twice wrongly on trial, but that’s all that ever happened. It was a business transaction. Nothing more.

This training trip will be the start of my new beginning!

“What do you mean you have to be accompanied by someone over 20?”

Seriously, I thought 18 was the adult age. “I’m 19, isn’t that close enough? I’m REALLY mature for my age,” I wheedle. It’s true, right?

“Um, maybe we can make an exception,” the lady folds quietly.

Yes!

“NO!” booms a forceful woman’s voice in the background. There’s a sound like the phone being grabbed. “No exceptions! There was an, um, INCIDENT once, we can’t do it for insurance purposes.”

“But I’m a FEY!”

“Even worse. What if something HAPPENED, the Family would sue?”

Ha. Somebody’s not quite up on recent events.

I suddenly remember seeing something where Aunt Morgan’s spent the last something years pretending to the outposts Kurain’s still rolling in power and riches. Maybe not all her ideas were bad?

I give up. How am I going to tell Pearly? And there goes my only plan to turn over a new leaf.

So somehow, I find myself mentioning it in conversation with Mr Armando over our half-hourly coffee break at our business meeting.

For some reason, he seems VERY eager to accompany us. It’s a little weird, but I find it hard to refuse. I’ll be extra sure to make them book us separate, lockable, rooms…

***

Feb 06 2019

I was so excited! Pearly had an amazing smile on her face. The snow was awesome, and I was feeling on top of the world, like I could be an awesome Master and channel any spirit, forgetting anything that ever happened in the past, and we’re just going into this breathtaking hall to see…

And then I see…

Him.

It can’t be. It’s a delusion, or a nightmare. Maybe a spiritual trance like some weird old elders have sometimes.

That person is… is gone. And he certainly wouldn’t be here.

He’s coming over. It’s a mistake. He doesn’t recognise who we are…

Then our eyes lock.

***

Mr Armando, I notice, is suddenly by my side. He shifts even closer, possessively, shoving himself right into my personal space. Nick notices, and winces slightly. He doesn't back down though, and is opening his mouth as if to speak.

Then the two women who greeted us earlier are coming over, one boomingly loudly. For some reason, this elicits a kind of panic in him. "S-sorry," he gasps in my direction, before reaching some kind of critical mass overload as they descend upon us, and he suddenly diffuses into a nearby doorway.

All too late, I'm realising what kind of impression and vibes Mr Godot was probably giving him over me. I'm a bit annoyed. Hey! That's not how things are at all! I can't chew him out now, though, because Sister Bikini is here, all friendly and eager to make conversation – on a very interesting topic.

"Oh! 'Brother' 'Mystic' Phoenix! What a character!" She leans closer in a hiss. "We think he's mentally ill, or not quite all there, but don't tell him that." She reverts to her normal voice. "He turned up one day begging to be some kind of monk. And he's the disciple of our long-time esteemed guest, Elise Deauxnim. She's a picture book author, but she's been doing a research trip here. He draws pictures too, though I think they're rather awful, myself… As soon as he saw her he went quite insane, claimed he was drawn by 'a magic force'. And he reads her book, 'The Magic Bottle’, constantly. He cries practically every time he reads it too. Elise doesn't seem to mind though. I'd think such a devotee creepy, but she seems to understand him, somehow… I don't at all. He runs away half the time. For some reason, he's really scared of Sister Iris, can you imagine? Actually, now I think – he was scared of you, too, wasn't he?"

"What does he do as a, um, monk?" I can't help being curious.

"Oh, he's obsessed with the Kurain Technique. There's a lot of silly rituals we do for the health of the Master's Family – we get sick of them, but some amazing medium, Morgan Fey, required them – I let him do a few of them and he's so obsessed. He claims he has terrible sins on his soul, so I taught him a few penance rituals to Ami Fey. He has an actual Magatama, though I have no idea where he got it. Maybe he stole it and that's the big sin he's so scared of? …Well, I shouldn't pry. He mostly keeps away from us… He lives in another part of the mountain."

"Where?" I have to know.

"Oh, we called it the 'Loser's Shack', but that's mean, isn't it now…"

Sounds appropriate.

"Here, have a map… but he's often out following Elise like a dog, whenever she doesn't come near us, anyway."

***

[Several days previously…] Feb 1 2019

PHOENIX:

I was scared out of my wits when I saw Dahlia Hawthone. At first I thought she might be a ghost, or zombie. Maybe Ami Fey was punishing me somehow? I mean, I didn't used to think that kind of stuff happened, but then I didn't used to think ghosts were real.

But I'm beginning to think it's not Dahlia Hawthorne at all, unless she got reincarnated. Maybe it's her sister, or another relative. But I don't really care. I still get freaked out every time I see her, remembering.

I had some silly idea once that that Dahlia was a fake, but even if that was true, I don't want to know the real one. Deceiving me, betraying me and just running away and abandoning me. The worst kind of coward! That kind of stuff shouldn't be forgiven… Which reminds me, it's past time for another flagellation ritual.

I sent Maya a few letters of apology, but I haven't heard back, so she probably is still mad. Or at least, doesn't want to see me – why would she? I never told her where I was after I moved here – guess it was for the best. I'm debating whether to send another letter…

I still have nightmares. I don't know what Elise thinks of me. Once, when she came by, I woke up screaming "MAYA!!!!" and she got really, really freaked.
I was scared I scared her off, showing myself up as so disturbed, but I guess she felt sorry for me, because she paid me a lot more attention after that.

Ms Deauxnim is an enigma to me, and we really don't talk, but on some weird level, I feel we connect. I guess it was after reading her book, even though it hit me where it hurt. Too much of my life has been spent chasing a magic dream; a string of magic dreams. And the only things that weren't illusions? I stupidly lost them too.

***

Feb 06 2019

MAYA:

Of course, I want to look for Nick.

I can't tell Pearly what I'm doing. I don't really trust Mr Armando to look after her, but thankfully, Elise, Bikini and Iris seem besotted with her and agree they'll keep an eye on her. In fact, Elise insists on babysitting her the entire night while I do the training and look around. She's some kind of childrens' author, so I guess she must love children. I'm grateful this frees me to look for Nick alone, so I don't pay it much thought. Destination: 'Loser's Shack'.

"N…Nick?" The door is closed. I peer in the small, dusty windows, but I can't see anyone inside.
I knock a few times.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I wrench open the door. They don't seem to have locks here… not ones which work, anyway.

I scan for clues about Nick and his new life, but there's not much to see. There's a traditional futon with a few extra blankets (unmade, heaped in a mess), a few heavy old wooden cupboards and chests of drawers. There's a small electricity generator, so he's evidently not without power, but it only seems to run a few lights and a small stove. I guess he washes and gets water from the river right out front.

From the fishing gear I tripped over in a corner near the door, I assume this must be what he catches and eats.

An ancient desk is strewn with haphazard piles of paper, pencils and charcoal – I remember Bikini said something about him making pictures as Elise's fanboy.

Long ago, painful conversations spring into my head – before he switched to law school, he was also studying art…

I grab a few papers and eye them critically. I have to admit, they're not so bad. Scenery, fish, the beginnings of a courtroom scribbled out and half-crushed…

Some kind of instinct seizes me. There's a nearby cardboard box, overflowing with waste (what a mess!) I pick a few supposed artistic fails off the top.

A picture of the Judge with red eyes, holding a giant gavel. A spikey haired corpse being impaled with a Nickel Samurai Spear…

Something about looking at them hurts. Suddenly, I feel very weak.

Dammit. I must need coffee.

I'm sure Nick doesn't have any, but I sift through the cupboards just to check. Nope, just boring things like sacks of potatoes, and dried peas and lentils and onions. Ginger roots, maybe for that boring ginger tea they have in Kurain…

Apart from the electricity, really the only thing here which seems to have graduated the 1800s are the hair products.

Well, Nick doesn't seem to be coming back, and I can't wait all night. Should I leave him a note? But I really haven't decided what to say. We'll be here several more days. I'm sure I can pin him down tomorrow or something. I decide to head back.

***

I'm fast approaching the main building complex again. Is Nick still in there, hiding in that maze of halls? Dinner will be served soon, (and it smells far better than fish stew,) will he appear? Probably not, the way Bikini was talking.

And then I see him – lurking in the shadows, furtively peering out from under his monk robe's hood.

"Nick!"

"I… I'm sorry."

"Well, it would've been nice if you'd had the courtesy to tell me earlier. Oh, you were 'too ashamed to face me', yeah, I've had that one before. Or maybe you just didn't care?"

"Maya… I-"

"It's okay. I was wrong to think it was more than what it was."

Nick's clearly fighting for words. He then gulps. "Um… That guy you're with… w-who is he?"

"I think that's none of your business, Phoenix Wright."

"No," Nick concedes sadly. "No, it isn't."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I did. He, um, just spat coffee in my face. Well… look after yourself, Maya."

"Oh, I will," I reply. "I HAVE to."

For some reason, raising the topic of Mr Godot, along with the memories flooding back of everything I thought I had with Nick [and didn't] suddenly makes me very angry.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"W..what?"

"I thought you were different, but you just abandoned me like everyone else did!"

"I'm sorry!"

"It was only about Mia, wasn't it. You only wanted me there to channel!"

"N—no! No!"

"When you took my case when no one else cared, I thought maybe you gave a damn about me, out of the kindness of your heart. But I guess it was because I was your boss's sister. Wasn't it?"

"No!"

"I could have faced the truth. I knew I failed you after I couldn't channel. So why did you lie to me? Why did you make me think you wanted ME around? I would have been happy to just channel Mia. Just for you to be straight with me. Why did you trick me, and make me feel… feel…"

The anger is charging up again, thankfully to displace the cursed tears.

"Then you defended me again. You came back. But I guess it wasn't about saving me at all. It was about the fact I could channel again, wasn't it!"

"N…no! I wanted to save you!"

"I would have died for you! But I guess that meant nothing to you. *I* meant nothing to you!"

I'm pleased when he visibly flinches at my venom. I'm so furious. I was so gullible and deluded by him that I was captive to my emotions – would have died over betraying our fake partnership. The fact it's my own naivety at ever trusting him which is as much responsible for this mess makes me even madder. So stupid, sitting there drawing on that card, believing in a fantasy… that never really existed.

Nick seems to be fighting for breath. I know I've made him cry, and I don't really care. Suddenly we hear Sister Bikini gabbling in the distance, the sound and multiple footsteps coming ever closer. "Iris, sweetie, why are you so scared of Mystic Brother Phoenix? I know insane and retarded people are a little odd, but he seems quite harmless… why, is that Maya over there? Maya, is that you?"

I can't let Bikini see me like this. As she steps around the corner, Sister Iris in tow, I dive into a bush. Nick's feelings are evidently similar. He's pulled his hood right down over his eyes, and melts away into the night.

***

It’s some time later. I’m feeling much better since my coffee hit (best of all, I could get it without Mr Godot even there to supervise, wonder where he is?). I’m trying to push the exchange with Nick out of my mind, to clear my head for the upcoming meditations.

Setting off to the training course with Bikini, suddenly we see him, still skulking around.

“Oh, hello sweetie! Still here? Did you want something? I’m afraid we’re just leaving.”

“N-no. Don’t let me delay you.” He’s not looking at me.

“Mystic Fey,” he murmurs respectfully, and gives a quick ceremonial bow the way trainees, monks and nuns do to the Master – if we’re HAVING a traditional ceremony, that is. Maybe I should tell him I’m not the Master yet, so that was a severe indiscretion – but of course I don’t. Anyway, he’s already dissipated off.

“Oh, how cute,” thrills Bikini as we walk off, “usually he just hides away when we have guests. Why,” she digs me in the ribs, “I think maybe he LIKES you, you know.”

“Uh… no. I’m sure it’s not that.”

***

PHOENIX:

Who the hell is this guy?

He seems to think he’s chaperoning Maya (or.. worse..)

Damn it, I don’t trust him. No, actually I don’t trust any man with Maya. …Okay, maybe I am jealous. But he’s like, at least 15 years older than her! I decided I’d just have to do a little undercover investigation.

I’ve tailed him a lot of the night. He probably knows – a lot of the complex is not designed with discretion in mind. He successfully lost me for awhile, and when I find him again, I see he’s meeting with Elise, and … that scary Dahlia copy. I’m petrified of Dahlia II but… this is for Maya.

Why aren’t they talking to Maya? Sure, she’s off doing that training thing, but really…

But by the time I’ve inched closer without them being able to see me, all I get to hear is Godot and Dahlia II agreeing to meet at a certain site at 10pm.

I j..just hope it’s not about getting or receiving poison. Oh, I know I’m paranoid. And petrified for Maya.

Dahlia II was addressing him as ‘Prosecutor Godot’. Is it true? Is this some kind of police operation? I thought Dahlia had been executed by now – but maybe the police also suspect this is her undead zombie reincarnation? I just don’t know what to believe any more…

I’m sure of two things though. 2: I have to leave before anyone sees me. 1: I have to be there at 10pm, to find out what’s going on!

***



Godot’s swearing. “Where the HELL is Iris?”

A bolt of lightning illuminates me. I’m scared of thunderstorms, and what with the current tension jerk in terror, blowing my cover entirely.

“TRITE!”

“What’s going on? … What have you done with Maya?”

“You!” He spears me with a finger, Objection-style. “There’s a killer on the loose, targeting Maya Fey, we got a tip off. Her name is Dahlia Hawthorne. I believe you two have met?”

I feel I’m going to vomit. “Maya!” is all I can choke.

Then, grasping desperately for sanity, I flail onto a contradiction. “She wasn’t executed yet?”

“Then maybe she was channelled, Trite? I’m patrolling this side’s area. You! Work your way around that side. Hurry! Don’t be too late to find her!”

I don’t know if ‘her’ means Dahlia or Maya, and I don’t care. I know I’m looking for Maya.

Wasn’t Maya in the cavern, doing the training?

I ignore Godot’s instructions and try there first. There’s a psyche-lock on the cavern. Closed. I can’t unlock those things.

“Maya? Are you in there?”

No reply.

Well, you jerk, maybe she just doesn’t want to talk to you.

“MAYA! There’s a murderer on the loose! Tell me you’re okay! Please!”

After a while, I give up. I return to Godot’s instructions. Combing the whole area seems a waste of time… neither one would be in all this empty snow, right?

Suddenly I hear noises, and screaming, and notice flashes of red light…

I run.

“MAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

***

It’s dark, hard to see. There are two people on the ground, but I have eyes only for Maya, flinging myself down next to her. “No. No!” Is she dead? “Maya…” I touch her gently. Warm, alive. I can hear her breathing, though it’s shallow and erratic. Even in the darkness, I can feel and smell she’s bleeding copiously. She gives a little whimper. Terrified, I take her injury-free hand in mine, desperately trying to recall first aid….

A flash of lightning illuminates the hideous scene. Elise – I’m sure it is Elise – is sprawled on the ground in front of us, already with the unworldly look and feel of a corpse, a knife stuck rather precisely deep into her heart. Maya’s broken, injured body is possibly even more disturbing. My eyes are adjusting to the darkness and the main damage is revealed to be predominantly on one side and area of her body. I ease the rest of her into my arms, concentrating on her still-present heartbeat. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, stroking her good side, trying to reassure myself as much as anything.

Maya’s drifted into consciousness. Tears fill her eyes. ”Mother! She’s dead. Why?”

“Maya…”

“Nick!” I’m scared she’ll pull away, but she sinks closer to me, apparently seeking comfort. She passes out again. I’m sure it’s from loss of blood.

She’s been stabbed in two places. There’s a huge amount of blood. I know I’m supposed to stop the bleeding, fast. I don’t care if I freeze to death. I tear a whole lot of my monk robe into strips and bandage her up as best I can.

“Please don’t die!” I beg. I cradle her in my arms, and palpitate in terror at how laboured her breathing has become. Oh god, will I be able to remember C.P.R.? A nearby storm has begun to steadily illuminate the sky.

“Elise!” I exclaim, horrified anew as her sad fate comes into stark focus. But a flash of lightning illuminates something else askew on her body. It’s a talisman with the Kurain Master symbol on it. I see her and Maya together, and along with Maya’s seemingly delirious comment, something is making horrible sense….

Why I was so drawn to Elise…

Maya looks so small and pale, her uncharacteristically haggard face emphasising the disturbing likeness. I have to get help, NOW, but I can’t leave her. Can I carry her without hurting her worse…? I’m relieved when I then hear footsteps charging toward me.

“Trite, you idiot! Why did you take so long! You’re TOO LATE!”

His eyes flit to ‘Elise’. “Did YOU stab her?” he snarls accusingly.

“No! It wasn’t me!”

“What, you mean Maya did it herself? I don’t think Dahlia or Elise would just stab herself in the chest.”

“No! Maya wouldn’t!”

“Oh, was there a third person? I didn’t see them.”

“N-not that I saw..”

“Maya is innocent. Either way, it’s clearly your fault. Trite.”

“Shut up about that! She needs a doctor! NOW!”

Godot’s already dialling his police phone. “The paramedics and police helicopters will be here shortly… What the hell are you DOING? You’ll likely make her injuries WORSE!”

I ignore him. Maya had started making these little whimpering noises – she’s near unconscious, but maybe she was scared by all the yelling. Automatically I found myself holding her hand, stroking her non-injured shoulder, crooning that it’s going to be okay, the doctors are coming soon. I squeeze her hand in a pathetic attempt at reassurance, and am rewarded with the faintest of pressure in return.

***

08 Feb 2019 06.00am

MAYA:

“Nick? Where’s Nick?” I mumble. ‘Nick?”

I open my eyes. It’s not Nick. It’s Mr Armando.

But I’m sure Nick was there…

I’m so confused? What happened?

I remember stuff, but it’s so disjoined. Was I dreaming?

I wince at two pretty nasty apparent wounds. That was no dream.

“Where’s Nick?” I demand again, knowing it will probably irritate him.

“Oh, Mr Wright has been arrested. So have you, I regret to inform you.” He gestures to two police guards, one on either side of what looks like a hospital room. “You’ve been charged with the murder of Elise Deauxnim. You’re recovering well since your surgery, so the trial will be in a few days. Wright’s a suspected accomplice or accessory, I believe. The prosecution office doesn’t think he’s the killer, which is ludicrous…”

“No!”

“They claim you stabbed the victim. You didn’t, did you.”

“No!” Actually, the night is such a mess, I don’t know what happened. “I d-don’t remember anyway. I promise!”

“Your prints are on the murder weapon.”

I’m confused.

“It’s a knife,” he prods.

I try desperately to recall in better detail.

A confused cocktail of pain and terror, a realisation on some level a knife is embedded in me, relentlessly piercing some internals, wrenching it out semi-instinctively and holding it in my fingers….

Then it’s just a blank. Nothing. Even more empty than a channelling. Can I just not access the memory?

“I t-think I pulled it out of me. It’s just nothing after that. I c-can’t remember. I think maybe I blacked out or something?”

“It’s okay. I’m sure you are innocent. I will act as defense attorney for your case.”

“Who’s the p-prosecutor?” Maybe it’s Edgeworth, then I and Nick might have a chance…

“Von Karma.”

I’m still trying to recall.

“The next thing I remember,…I see my m-mother’s dead. And then I notice Nick is there. He’s holding me – “ That part is coming back.

“I was so scared, do you think he came to save me?”

“We’ll discuss this again later,” Mr Godot replies tersely.

***

IRIS:

Iris had started to feel she’d paid off some of the sins on her soul. But then a nightmare happened.

One day, Feenie turned up here.

Feenie was clearly insane, like his life had been ruined somehow. Iris couldn’t help feeling it was all her fault. But worst of all, her only refuge, where she could forget the tortures of the past and feel useful to Bikini, was now just another part of the nightmare. Feenie really had no idea who she was, but there was always the chance he’d find out. And every time she saw his broken face, it was a reminder.

She’d tried to forget Dahlia, but then she heard her sister had been executed. Had sensed it, actually - her E.S.P. was weak, but Dahlia was her twin, so she could get the intuitive sense her sister was now dead, even though they couldn’t connect. Oh!Cult magazine had needed someone to make a trip to the city, and she’d contacted the Justice Department there and received confirmation, explaining she was a ‘distant relative’.

Why was Feenie here? She’d tried so hard to pay penance, but Ami Fey just seemed to be punishing her worse for this transgression. It made her even more lonely, and she happened to comment to a visiting medium she’d had a twin sister, who had recently died.

The medium saw she was upset and offered to do a private channelling. Bikini didn’t know.

It had been just like old times, before they had to leave, before Mother got mad they had no spirit powers. Iris showed Dahlia all around where they took mediums to train. Dahlia was so proud of her, and so interested in all the things she did here. She said she was so smart – wow, how did she set and unset those locks? Iris wished things could stay like this forever, but the medium wasn’t very good, so after about half an hour the connection faded.

Iris knew she shouldn’t try to contact Dahlia again – the Order had strict rules and moral guidelines over ethics of spirit contact, to avoid too much disruption of spirits’ destinies in the afterlife and interference in the mortal world – and mass murderers were certainly NEVER to be channelled without an extremely good reason. If Bikini found out, she’d be mad – no, Bikini would forgive her, since it was her sister, but she’d be very clear Iris was NEVER to do it again.

So when Iris had seen Dahlia again that certain night, it was almost too good to be true!

***

DAHLIA:

Dahlia still couldn’t feel she’d done anything wrong by killing those worthless, disposable people.

She took sadistic pleasure in taunting them with the ultimate lie.

Human relationships were only ever really about exploiting others to advance your own agendas and desires. If they were no longer of use to you, they should – and would – be discarded or ignored at will.

If people like Terry, Dougie and Feenie were too idiotic to know this, and still held out a fantasy things could be otherwise, that was their own problem. Was it really her fault Feenie kept believing in a stupid bottle fairytale she knew was a baby story before she was 3? She gave him plenty of time to come to his senses and give the bottle back before she had to kill him. As for Terry, she delighted in the power she had over him, but it wasn’t like she’d forced the poison down his throat.

The only reason stupid Iris went around forgiving and praying and doing anything for other people was that her silly sister seemed to be overwhelmed with unpleasant guilt or fear otherwise, so really, she too was just being selfish. And of course, Iris was way more interested in her own safety that other people most of the time, when it came down to actually doing anything. It was incomprehensible how some people held out the delusion that you could ever trust or think you could rely on another person.

Dahlia had many years previously numbed herself of normal human emotions until they were exorcised entirely, but she still couldn’t help feeling anger about Pearl. A child created from before birth with the sole intention of fulfilling her mother’s insane narcissistic desires, nothing but an object, a pawn, an extension of herself.

That bitch. Dahlia’s head filled with a immense stream of unrepeatable expletives.

***



06 Feb 2019 10:02 PM
[NIGHT OF THE CRIME]

IRIS:

Nostalgia is flooding back, Dahlia is wearing a hood and nun outfit, just like her! If only Dahlia could have stayed at the shrine too back then…

Iris’ heart lurches in thrill as Dahlia hugs her. She finally seems to have forgiven her over the Feenie incident and the rift that divided them then. [Maybe because Dahlia has seen that she and Feenie are not together, even though he’d creepily come to haunt the mountain?]

“But why are you here?”

“Oh, Iris, it’s terrible! Mother found out about a plot against our half-sister, Pearl! You know that whole stupid Master deal – the Main Family, Aunt Misty probably, are planning an assassination attempt on poor little Pearl tonight! I was helping her to stop it, but I think things are going wrong!

“Pearl? That cute little girl?”

“Mother planned Pearl to channel me, to keep her safe from the attacker, but I think she’s been somehow prevented from doing so. I can’t find her, but I heard her screaming somewhere. Oh, Iris, we have to find her! Would anyone know where she might be? Who else is here?”

“M-Mystic Maya came with her..”

“Oh yeah, her. That Main Family girl. Mother said she doesn’t know about the plot against Pearl – but best not to tell her, she might turn against us.”

“Oh, Maya seemed very nice, I’m sure she’d never. But if she doesn’t know – we’d better not worry her!”

“Hey, what was that?”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you hear it? I thought I heard a girl screaming. Iris, we HAVE to find Pearl! Would Mystic Maya know where she might have gone? I’m going to ask!”

“But we shouldn’t trouble Mystic Maya…” Too late. Iris is panting by the time she catches up with Dahlia at the cavern. Dahlia’s clearly had no success at untangling the lock – there are a lot of possible configurations which can be set.

“I don’t know this one. You’re so clever, Sis!”

They peek through the entrance.

Mystic Maya’s deep in her meditative trance, eyes closed.

“Um, maybe we shouldn’t worry her?”

“But this is an emergency!” Dahlia charges into the cavern. “Mystic Maya! Mystic Maya! Sorry to disturb you, but do you know where Pearl could have gone tonight? Pearl is missing. She might be in trouble – we thought we heard her screaming!”

“Iris? Pearly?”

“Pearl’s missing, do you know where she might be?”

“PEARLY! We have to find her!”

“Do you know where to look?”

“No! Oh, I have to find her! PEARLY!” Maya leaps off the ice, tearing off her hood. Iris cowered in the shadows as Dahlia and Maya tore out of the cavern. It was instinctive to cover for her sister --- Maya thought Dahlia WAS Iris, and there was no time or reason to want to explain.

“I’ll search this way, you search THAT way,” Iris hears Dahlia direct. Maya charges off, and Iris ran back to Dahlia’s side.

“But didn’t you say there was a killer looking for Maya too,” muses Dahlia. “I know! You get back in the cavern! Then the killer will think Mystic Maya is still locked inside, instead of tracking her and putting her in danger. A decoy. And you’ll be safe too!”

“Um, shouldn’t I look for..” Dahlia is already enthusiastically dragging her back into the cavern. Iris was secretly grateful -- it would be much better in here than out there with scary murderers on the loose, and acting as decoy was helping protect Mystic Maya, wasn’t it? It’s too late now, anyway, Dahlia’s already locked the cavern [maybe with the trick lock configuration Iris showed her last month?] It can’t be opened from the inside.

“I’ll protect you! I’m already dead!” And Dahlia’s gone. [And, unknown to Iris, quite sure she knows where Pearl is ‘hiding’.]

***

When the police removed her from the cavern, Iris claimed she knew nothing. She assumed Dahlia had stabbed Misty, and of course she would protect her sister.

Somebody had been channelling Dahlia - Iris wasn’t sure who. But then she figured out it must have been Pearl, that little girl, just as Mother had planned. Maybe Dahlia didn’t know then, since she said Pearl was ‘missing’. Of course Iris would never tell the police Pearl stabbed Misty while channelling. In hindsight, that was probably Morgan’s real plot all along – have Misty stabbed as vengeance. Iris offered a prayer for her Mother’s tortured soul. [And knowing how things were, maybe Misty was the one originally plotting to kill Pearl, like Dahlia mentioned?]

The police didn’t do too much questioning. Since she was locked in the cavern most of the night, and never met Mr Godot at 10pm, they soon believed her claims she knew nothing, and let her go. Somebody, apparently, had claimed she and Godot had planned a meeting at 10pm, but since it never happened, and her and Mr Godot were so both able to convincingly deny its existence they evidently decided the third party was lying, and seemed to drop any suspicion of her knowledge or involvement.

She certainly didn’t tell about how she’d cowered, petrified, as Feenie had yelled and banged on the cavern doorway – they might demand to know why she was too scared to answer him!

***

Iris returned to the mountain and tried to ignore anything to do with the trial. When Bikini mentioned [panicked] that ‘Brother’ Phoenix was on trial for murder in the city, she blanked this evident deja-vu. It was just a recurring nightmare, a delusion. It was over, not really happening again. Feenie was gone from the mountain for good, and the nightmare was finally closed.

***

11 Feb 2019

MAYA:

The trial is a nightmare.

It’s my third murder trial, but I don’t seem to get any less petrified with experience. Mr Godot was supposed to have been an excellent defense attorney, back in the day, but I find it hard to trust him the way I could.. could..

I can only feel sick as right from his opener, he unveils the predicted tactic of pinning the murder on Nick. For once I’m pleased it’s Ms Von Karma and her obsession with a ‘perfect win’ – me not being guilty of the murder would be a ‘loss’, and she’s still seething over me getting declared ‘innocent’ last year, so if there’s evidence to show Nick’s innocence, hopefully she’s found it. But Godot’s a pro, and he already has the Judge and audience captive to his ‘trite’ tale, hanging out for more.

I wince. I hope Nick doesn’t think Mr Godot’s stance was any of my idea. I crane my neck to see him –far away in a distant part of the courtroom, surrounded by police and guards. I can’t catch his eye.

Of course, I’d lain awake at night, knowing what Nick’s ‘saving me’ this time might have meant. Apparently, he was willing to get a killer declared innocent [and risk Ms Andrews’ murder by proxy] in an attempt to save me. But that was then and… even if he’d kill to protect me, somehow I can’t picture him doing it so…. precisely. The other reason I’ve lain awake at night…is that I can’t help thinking Ms Von Karma’s theory of events…. is the real one. I’ve seen that kind of stabbing before - On Samurai Blood Moon III, just for starters…

The audience falls silent as Ms Von Karma begins the proceedings in earnest, with her presentation and reconstruction of events in conjunction with one of her witness investigators, Officer Meekins. Officer Meekins is very flighty. The entire duration of his testimony, he keeps his eye on Ms Von Karma’s whip, rather than the judge or courtroom. Whenever she considers Meekins’ explanation not up to par, Von Karma butts in with her own explanations, simultaneously adding to a tally on one of the papers on her desk.

Things have gone into a kind of defensive fog and I can only force myself to concentrate on events unfolding right in front of me, as if it’s a kind of TV show. Maybe a horror movie. I’ve fallen into a kind of numbness. The whole thing is hazy, like I’m watching a movie in a bad dream.

TESTIMONY:

“The investigation very clearly showed what happened.”

“The victim was stabbed through the heart, a perfect blow with clear intent to kill.”

“The knife – the murder weapon – was still buried in the victim’s chest.”

“Examining the wound showed it was the death blow – the weapon was not exchanged later. There are no other major injuries on the victim – this is the cause of death.”

“The accused – Maya Fey’s –prints were all over the murder weapon, very clearly and cleanly, evidence she grasped it in her right hand. A few prints from the victim remain, but the accused’s cover or deface most of them.”

“No other prints are on the murder weapon.”

“The accused had been previously stabbed by the victim. This is clearly her motive to subsequently commit murder. The nature of the wound directly to the heart shows clear intent to kill, not merely cripple in self defense.”

“The murder occurred like this: Either the defendant, Maya Fey, or the victim, was armed with the knife. The victim attained the knife and stabbed Maya Fey in the left arm and side.”

“The knife became lodged in Maya Fey’s side, allowing Maya Fey to seize the murder weapon.”

“She then used it to stab the victim in the heart with clear intent to kill. Her motive – self defense, and anger at being attacked.”

---

Ms Von Karma’s presentation seems amazingly solid. She seems to have forced the investigators and forensics to pre-empt every possible contradiction – she must be even more incensed at her ‘loss’ at my trial last year than I thought. The rumours after State vs Engarde were, of course, that Nick somehow cheated, and my true innocence was a fluke. This is probably vengeance in her mind.

I glance over at Mr Godot, fearing he’ll be similarly intimidated.

But it’s Godot’s cue to thrill the audience, with a dramatic evidence presentation in tandem with a coffee slam. “This is the robe Phoenix Wright was wearing when he was found at the murder scene by police.” The audience and Judge all gasp – it’s spectacularly soaked and spattered with blood. “See how it is torn – clearly this occurred in a tussle with the victim! And Mr Wright did not sustain injury, so it is not his own blood. Really, does this look like the clothes of an innocent man, absent from the murder?”

The audience have drunk in his theatrics. It doesn’t matter if there’s possible alternate reasons for everything later – the impact of the horror-movie imagery has raised Nick’s guilt in the minds of the courtroom.

“Clearly Phoenix Wright witnessed the pursuit and/or attack on Maya Fey, obscured himself in the darkness, probably hiding behind the stone lantern. When Maya Fey passed unconscious, she dropped the knife. He saw his opportunity, seized it with the folds of his cloak, and leapt out and stabbed the victim. His motive – protecting Maya Fey!"

"As for the fact he executed a cruel, brutal killing blow, he was likely incensed Maya Fey had already received serious injury, and was out for vengeance.”

“Maya Fey clearly passed unconscious before the killing blow. When she awoke, she observed her mother was already dead – and Phoenix Wright was there with her! I assume this matches with her testimony to police, Ms Von Karma?”

“Maybe so.” Ms Von Karma is unperturbed. “But why believe the claims of a murder suspect? How convenient she ‘just happened’ to ‘pass out’ in time for the killing blow!”

Godot’s ready with explanation. “Maya Fey pulled the knife out of her side – perhaps this action lead to greater bleeding and injury, the physiological trauma causing her to lose consciousness!”

“That raises a point, Ms Von Karma,” decides the Judge. “Could Maya Fey have actually stabbed the victim in that manner after receiving such injuries?”

“Of course, Mr Judge.” She curtseys pretentiously. “Doctors examined Maya Fey thoroughly. Shortly after the injuries occurred, Maya Fey would have been quite capable of standing and using the right side of her body normally, including stabbing the victim. Her poor physiological condition on discovery was caused mainly by loss of blood as time wore on. The adrenaline rush from the situation – thinking she was about to be murdered – would allow her reflexes and instincts to quite competently protect her just after her injuries. Here is the medical report!”

“HOLD IT! This report merely says it’s ‘possible’ she retained consciousness for some minutes after the knife’s removal. It doesn’t say she did! That’s hardly conclusive!”

“Who cares. The report proves Maya Fey could well have performed the murder. And she is guilty until proven innocent! What evidence do you have to support your claim, Mr Godot? Nothing but the defendant’s lies!”

“Mr Godot also makes up foolish conjecture to compensate since his little story has no actual evidence to support it! He claims Phoenix Wright seized the knife in the folds of his cloak. Would he really go to all this ridiculous forethought in the heat of the moment?”

“Of course." Mr Godot tilts his mug in taunting relaxation. "An axe murderer will not cut himself with the axe! Mr Wright was a defense attorney until a year ago. Even in such an immediate situation, he’d instinctively know not to leave his own prints before committing murder. And if a third person’s hand grabbed the knife, the victim would likely notice. In the darkness, his dark sleeve would go un-noticed. Furthermore, Maya Fey was stabbed twice. It’s possible he observed –and planned- his attack for some moments before making his move.”

“None of your little theory is based on sense or conclusive evidence, Mr Godot,” retaliates Von Karma, smirkishly brandishing her whip. “It’s decisively proven Maya Fey was present at the time of the victim’s fatality, it’s decisively proven she handled the murder weapon just before it was stabbed into the victim’s heart, and decisively proven she had a clear and direct motive to such violence – the victim had attacked and twice stabbed her!"

“All your claims over Phoenix Wright are based on nothing but a foolish product of your imagination. Clearly, Maya Fey’s guilt is the only reasonable scenario. Case closed.”

“OBJECTION!” roars Godot, slamming his mug and spraying half the courthouse with coffee. "The entire premise is ludicrous. Elise was actually Maya’s mother, Misty Fey.” He enters the relevant police records and ID into evidence.

“Why would she want to kill or attack her only surviving daughter? It’s proven Maya Fey was stabbed twice so clearly attacked – and Elise received no notable injuries other than the fatal blow, so Elise was not ‘attacking in self defense’.”

Von Karma smirks and curtseys. “Of course I knew Ms Deauxnim’s true identity, Your Honour. I just did not wish to overly complicate the case unnecessarily."

I feel my stomach cringe at Mother's name. It's still so hard to accept the truth. Through the sickening tremours I can’t help wondering why Mr Godot’s raising this. I guess he’s forcing Ms Von Karma to come up with a motive, thinking she can’t.

Both Mr Godot and Ms Von Karma know about the Kurain Technique and channelling. I wonder if either will raise the topic to the court? Probably not unless they are forced to do so – it’s still considered a fraud, and the Judge may disregard their arguments.

Mr Godot knows I was chased and attacked by somebody being channelled – and that she is Dahlia Hawthorne, Morgan’s other daughter. “Somebody who looked a lot like Sister Iris but wasn’t,” I described her as. “I thought she was Sister Iris, right until she tried to stab me.” I think the questioning police thought I was making it up, which didn’t help my case at all.

Or maybe Mr Godot WANTS the channelling raised, thinking Ms Von Karma won’t be able to handle it? Surely he won’t claim Nick stabbed me as well. Nobody would ever believe that.

“Hmm, then why don’t we let Maya Fey herself testify? I’m sure that would greatly support your theory of Phoenix Wright’s guilt. She can tell us herself of why and how the fatal mother-daughter spat occurred, as she did in questioning. By the way, Mr Godot, I can enter her previous statement to police as evidence, so if it’s changed unreasonably, we will know she is or was lying.”

Mr Godot’s responding coffee-gulping suggests he’d prefer I did not testify, but to express this would cast more suspicion on me - what am I hiding? A suite of guards escort me to the witness stand again.

Somehow, I numbly force my legs to obey. The courtroom wavers up and down like a toxic ocean. I try to focus like in spirit training so I won’t just fall apart or throw up or something. I’m not sure why she’s so eager to have me testify, but all I can do is try to tell the truth, again.

TESTIMONY: Maya Fey

“I was doing a spiritual training course in the cavern, when Sister Iris unlocked the door and came in.”

“Sister Iris told me Pearl was missing, did I know where she might be? She said they thought they heard her screaming somewhere. I was really worried so I decided to help look for Pearl.”

“Iris and I decided to split up and look for Pearl faster. I ran away.”

“I searched around the complex. After a few minutes I noticed someone was sneaking up behind me. At first I thought it was Pearl.”

“Then the person appeared and I thought it was Sister Iris - they looked exactly the same as Sister Iris. I turned to greet her. She walked beside me for a minute. Then suddenly she leapt on me – I noticed she was holding a knife, and she tried to stab me.”

“I flung myself away and managed to roll out of the path of the knife just in time. I was confused, but I started to run away. I think I’d hurt myself avoiding the knife the first time. I soon found I’d been chased down a dead end.”

“The woman pushed me against this big stone pillar. I still thought she might be Sister Iris, but the way she talked and acted didn’t sound like her. She tried to stab me again, and I tried to move out of the way, but the knife stabbed my arm, and I fell down. I was confused about the talisman I saw fall out around her neck.”

“I think she then taunted me about how she was going to kill me slowly, and see me in hell, and I knew I was going to die. Then I felt her stab me in the side. I thought I was dying.”

“I realised the knife must still be stuck in me, because I could feel it piercing into some part of me. I got really scared. Sort of automatically, I pulled the knife out of me. I held it in my hand for a moment.”

“Then my memory stops. It’s just a blank. Probably I passed out.”

“The next thing I remember, I woke up later and I saw my mother’s dead body on the ground in front of me.”

---

Don’t think. Don’t think. I focus my attention all on Ms Von Karma, to blank out the thought and image of M..Mother…

“See?” My ears fill with von Karma's displacing jubilant cry. “Maya Fey is obviously guilty, because she is lying! She keeps testifying she saw Sister Iris, but this is proven totally impossible, as my next presentation will describe. Then she claims she was chased and stabbed by this ‘person who looked like Sister Iris’ but the only other fingerprints on the knife she claimed stabbed her belong to Elise Deauxnim! And as we can see, the victim looks nothing like Sister Iris, even in the dark! Furthermore, she testifies she saw the victim’s dead body shortly after, and identified it as her mother! ‘My mother was dead.’”

“That’s very interesting, Ms Von Karma,” reasons the Judge appreciatively. “Could not this ‘Sister Iris’ have chased Maya Fey, and then Elise Deauxnim ambushed and attacked Ms Fey? Why is this ‘Sister Iris’ not a suspect?”

“Thank you for raising that, Mr Judge! The next part of my presentation proves it was impossible for Sister Iris to have been present at the murder, or to have aided in the final battle! All claims have been verified with decisive evidence and multiple independent witnesses and alibis.”

VON KARMA: Impossible for Sister Iris to be present at murder – events reconstruction

“During the evening, another guest, 8 year old Pearl Fey went missing. Naturally, Sister Iris and Sister Bikini were alarmed, especially due to the snow and freezing weather. By around 10pm, Pearl Fey still had not been found.”

“Sister Iris unlocked the cavern where Maya Fey was doing a spiritual training exercise, and asked her if she knew where Pearl might be, it being an emergency situation. Maya Fey demanded to help search for Pearl Fey, and Maya Fey and Sister Iris then exited the cavern.”

“Sister Iris suggested they could search faster by splitting up, and Maya Fey immediately ran off, out of Sister Iris’ sight."

“A few minutes later, Sister Iris decided she should not leave the cavern open and unattended. Sister Bikini would arrive shortly for her turn on watch, and would be alarmed to find it unlocked and Sister Iris and Maya Fey both missing."

“Sister Iris went into the cavern to wait, closing the door behind her.”

“A minute later, someone else arrived, and locked the cavern. It could not be locked or unlocked from inside.” Ms Von Karma here presents into evidence the Psyche-Lock in question and its properties. “Sister Iris assumed it was Sister Bikini, and went to ask to be let out, but there was no one there.”

“Police examined the lock for fingerprints. Apart from Sister Iris’ fingerprints, explained from locking Maya Fey in the cavern earlier that night, there were fresh prints from two individuals:

The victim, Elise Deauxnim,

and Phoenix Wright.”

The audience and Judge begin to gasp theatrically. I try to avoid just flattening my head to the... well there isn't much in the way of comforts near the defendant's chair.

“Seemingly unaware of Sister Iris," smirks von Karma in continuation, "Phoenix Wright testified to police that he went to the cavern looking for Maya Fey, trying to determine if she was inside, but the cavern was already locked. He did not know how to open it, and since Maya Fey did not reply, continued to search elsewhere. This was at least 5 minutes BEFORE the murder – clearly Sister Iris was already locked inside.”

“Sister Bikini arrived for her guard shift a few minutes later, unaware of the murder. She checked the lock, and it was secure at that point. She assumed Maya Fey was training inside, so she did not disturb her by announcing her presence.”

“Sister Bikini stood guard continuously at the cavern entrance until police arrived at the cavern around 30 minutes after the murder, and unlocked the cavern for police to find Sister Iris still inside, conducting a prayer meditation.”

“The evidence proves Sister Iris could not have taken part in the murder, she was locked in the cavern for the duration! Either Elise Deauxnim or Phoenix Wright locked her in!”
---

“HOLD IT!” Godot is ecstatic.

“Ha...! Doesn’t this just add to the suspicious body of evidence against Phoenix Wright – locking away a potential witness to his crime!"

“OBJECTION! No, Mr Godot. Nowhere in your foolish little theory have you claimed Phoenix Wright planned his supposed ‘murder’ in intricate forethought detail. Our interrogators drilled him quite thoroughly, and he genuinely seems to have gone to check if Maya Fey was inside and was distressed he could not unlock the cavern to find out. You yourself claim his motive to allegedly kill was protecting Maya Fey – so his motive to visit the cavern appears genuine. You must agree, to not do so would be contradictory.”

“And regardless, even if he did lock the cavern, it changes nothing! Sister Iris was inside, and locked in, BEFORE the murder. Perhaps, in the confusion, Phoenix Wright locked the cavern for security purposes, knowing it should be locked, on the off-chance Maya Fey still was inside?”

“But our investigation believes it was Elise Deauxnim. If she intended to pursue Maya Fey, perhaps she had observed Maya Fey and Sister Iris exit the cavern to search earlier, and then locked Sister Iris in to prevent her intervening in her subsequent attack on Maya Fey.”

“Well, that seems very conclusive!" appreciates the Judge. "It appears an unnecessary delay, but I suppose it’s within your rights to demand testimony from Sister Iris to verify matters, Mr Godot?”

“Indeed, I have Sister Iris present right in this courtroom, if necessary,” curtseys Von Karma arrogantly. Mr Godot glances at her whip’s direction. It’s probably not noticed by the court, but he then starts chugging coffee in his ‘hyper-agitation’ ritual.

I glance at Sister Iris too. I can’t really tell anything’s amiss from here, but he’s a lot closer.

“No, Mr Judge, I think that’s conclusive enough at this point in time. Maybe it will be required later.”

“Very well. I’m hungry, so I think it’s time for a recess…”

“HOLD IT!" The Judge blinks in recoil at Mr Godot's sudden volume. "Ms Von Karma has spent tedious lengths of time proving Sister Iris was not present at the murder. Yet she has failed to account for Maya Fey’s own repeated claims she saw ‘someone who looked like Sister Iris’ pursue and stab her! This is a clear and unexplained contradiction!”

“Oh, that is easily explained. Perhaps the defendant was still delusional, recently having come from her meditation trance, and since Sister Iris roused her from it originally, assumed in the dark her pursuer was the same.”

“Or perhaps she cannot consciously deal with the guilt of murdering her mother, or the trauma of her own mother attacking her, and her imagination has since altered events to make it seem this ‘imaginary person like Sister Iris’ was the one who pursued her and she stabbed as a psychological defense. She seemed to be unaware the victim was her mother until after she was dead – this would be a severe psychological shock.”

“Indeed,” muses the Judge, “a tragic case, but all this confusion or lying does seem to indicate Maya Fey’s guilt.”

My head could just split. I'd been keeping myself immersed in the present, shallow moment, trying not to think too hard about it, but suddenly the full tide of the prosecution's accusations stop delaying and punch me through the face. Maybe I did kill Mother. Some things are off, but too many of Ms Von Karma's main ideas make all too much sense.

I'd vowed to stay strong at the trial but suddenly I feel I'm about to just collapse.

Focus, Maya! Don't cry..

Under the waterfall, we train ourselves to just endure, and endure...

But some weak, stupid part of me keeps screaming that the physical assault of the freezing water is somehow different to this tourture of the courtroom. This could kill me - irrespective of how much I doggedly endure - in a very different way. And now I don't seem to be able to concentrate at all.

Worse, I suddenly remember who I used to think of to endure the waterfall tourture.

Hastily I remember the meditations to stay afloat. Clear. Your. Mind...

“OBJECTION!” I startle as Godot slams his coffee with greater-than-usual enthusiasm.

“Maya Fey is not lying, or delusional.”

"As you are aware, I know, Ms Von Karma, this was a training site for spirit mediums. Elise was currently channelling a spirit. From her description and family background, I believe it was Dahlia Hawthorne, who was executed last month. She is a relative of Iris of Hazakurain, hence the description."

Ms von Karma directs one of her underlings to search up some information in police records about Dahlia Hawthorne, and her own records of the Kurain situation from State vs Maya Fey [2017]

“And I believe this belief in Dahlia Hawthorne was also shared by Phoenix Wright, Ms Von Karma?”

I expect her to object, but she looks shaken. Clearly this is exactly what he testified to police.

But a second later she jerks back into vengeance.

“Just further motive to suggest Maya Fey’s guilt! This ‘Dahlia Hawthorne’ is the defendant’s cousin, and a potential threat to her succession as Master! Maya Fey was probably unaware of Ms Hawthone’s mortal status, and thought she was engaging in clan warfare to slay a clearly antagonistic rival to the Master position! She had no idea of the irony it was actually her own mother. The shock of the victim’s transformation back into her dead mother likely caused the defendant to fall into unconsciousness.”

Now the channelling’s out on the bench, Mr. Godot is hyper-cocky. I know he has some plan in mind around this. But Ms Von Karma seemed prepared. She whipped her subordinate into bringing up some files and information, and the way she is smirking, she’s also hyper-confident about whatever Plan B she’s switched to here.

“A dramatic story, Ms Von Karma. And all a lie. Maya Fey didn’t know who Dahlia Hawthorne was – she thought she was Iris! But yes, Elise Deauxnim was channelling the spirit of Dahlia Hawthorne at the time of the attack and murder. This accounts for the defendant’s supposed ‘confusion’ and continual description of her attacker and pursuer as ‘someone who looked like Sister Iris’, despite Sister Iris’ proven presence in the cavern.”

“And there was one person present who did know Dahlia Hawthorne –and had a clear grudge and motive to kill her in his own right – Phoenix Wright!”

“Phoenix Wright had a second clear and decisive motive to murder the victim – his proven pre-existing antagonism against Dahlia Hawthorne. Dahlia Hawthorne is Phoenix Wright’s ex-lover, who 5 years ago betrayed him, framed him for murder, and planned to poison him. I will prove it, with clear and decisive evidence!”

The Judge blinks in bug-eyed shock, the audience stands erupt.

“TAKE THAT! I present to the court, State Vs Phoenix Wright 2013. The trial video and transcript is there in total for the court’s examination. Now I will demonstrate excerpts from it illustrating Mr Wright’s clear dual motives to commit murder!”

“The murder Mr Wright was framed for and put on trial for was actually committed by his then girlfriend, Dahlia Hawthorne! Her guilt soon became clear to the court, his defense attorney and probably Mr Wright himself. Yet he continued to protect his girlfriend out of obsessive loyalty to her, even though this thwarted his defense attorney clearing his name and risked death to himself. The same insanity which leads Mr Wright to protect his ‘female interests’ from death in the courtroom – also leads him to defend – even commit murder – when she’s under attack. In State vs Wright 2013, he testifies how he violently shoved that case’s victim because he simply said a bad word about his girlfriend. Imagine what he’d have done if he’d come across someone stabbing her!”

“And we also have an even clearer second motive! Later in that same trial, Phoenix Wright discovered that Dahlia Hawthorne had not only betrayed his trust and relationship, but had planned to poison him!” [Godot plays a string of scenes from this betrayal revelation now, poor Nick a sodden, sobbing and congested mess.] “His reward for such loyalty to his girlfriend was that she was going to murder him!”

“5 years later, when Phoenix Wright finally meets Dahlia Hawthorne again, she’s in the act of attacking and stabbing Maya Fey! Naturally, Wright was outraged not only by the attack on Maya Fey, but seeking vengeance on the woman who betrayed him, tried to poison him, and framed him for murder. Strip the coffee of its sugar, and it's again bitter as hell!“

“Phoenix Wright observed Maya Fey being attacked by Dahlia Hawthorne, saw his opportunity, seized the knife, and stabbed the victim. His motives: directly protecting Maya Fey and vengeance on the woman who betrayed and tried to murder him. Case closed.”

From the chaos of the crowd, which the Judge spends a lengthy period slamming his gavel to eventually silence, I can’t help thinking they’ve been converted to Mr Godot’s story. I wilt in my chair; it’s all like a bad dream and I don’t really want to think any of this is happening at all. But the Judge is now speaking.

“This is a very interesting theory of the defense. But I have a serious qualm with this alledged ‘channelling’ of Dahlia Hawthorne. Mr Godot! Can we even prove this ‘channelling’ occurred? Might it not be a lie or delusion concocted by Maya Fey and Phoenix Wright? What if it didn’t really happen? Doesn’t that render your theory impossible?”

But Godot doesn’t miss a beat.

“Whether it occurred or not is irrelevant, Your Honour. All that is required is that Phoenix Wright believed the victim was Dahlia Hawthone when he decided to stab her. In the darkness, hiding behind the stone, perhaps he did not get a clear enough view of the victim to make him believe otherwise. Mr Wright himself testified to police he thought Dahlia Hawthorne was after Maya Fey – and acted accordingly. It's hard to drink an antidote for poison of the mind.”

“Ms Von Karma,” queries the Judge, “does this not support Mr Wright’s guilt over Ms Fey?”

“Of course not! As for Maya Fey, she had just been roused from a deep meditation and trance by the real Sister Iris. In the darkness, confusion, and subsequent recollection of such traumatic events, it must be difficult for Maya Fey to accept she was attacked and twice stabbed by her own mother - and then murdered her in instinctive retaliation. It’s quite likely, at the time or later, her imagination did perceive the attacker as someone else.

“As for Misty Fey stabbing Maya Fey – perhaps she was in her delusional trance where she believed she was channelling a spirit? It matters not if the entire exercise is fraudulent – the participants merely had to believe enough for their own confusion to occur.”

“An intricate, foolish theory by the defense," Von Karma continues in jubilance. "But you have failed to give any evidence Phoenix Wright was yet on the scene, and thus your theory of motive is still BASELESS CONJECTURE! Maya Fey was proven to be on the scene, and her prints are on the murder weapon. No evidence or testimony at all that Phoenix Wright was present at time of murder exist! In no way have you proven Maya Fey innocent!”

“I have to agree, you have a point, Ms Von Karma,” the Judge admits. “Mr Godot, your theory seems very solid, but without a shred of evidence to support it, I can only dismiss it and accept the prosecution’s theory as the reasonable one. Maya Fey’s prints are on the murder weapon. She herself claims not to even recall the moment of stabbing, but admits she handled the murder weapon just before. Most obviously, in the panic and confusion of the attack and ‘channelling’, she instinctively struck back in clear self-defense. A tragic case, but murder is illegal, even in such horrific circumstances..”

“OBJECTION!”

“Silence, Mr Godot. I’m ready to give my verdict.”

In spite of myself, I notice my body has begun to shake.

“I’m afraid there’s not enough evidence of insanity to rule manslaughter. I now pronounce the defendant, Maya Fey, GU..”

“OBJECTION!”

Something instinctively jars and surges through my body at the interruption from my fate. My mind catches up through the surrealistic fog, then returns to it. It's not the same as it was then.

“Who was that? New evidence, Mr Godot?”

“Bailiff, restrain him!”

“I believe that was Mr Wright over there, Your Honour. Maybe he wishes to testify – with a confession?”

“Very well. Bailiff, escort Mr Wright to the witness stand. What was your outburst, Mr Wright? I’m ready to charge you with contempt of court.”

“I wish to testify. I’ve withheld information from the police and court!”

“Then I’m charging you with perjury as well, Mr Wright. Do you accept?”

“OBJECTION!” Ms Von Karma whips the floor like a child. “Your Honour was giving a verdict! No further foolish testimony is required!”

“I believe it is – on the grounds Mr Wright is making a confession of significance. If not, I will rule Ms Fey guilty of murder immediately. Mr Wright must state something which proves Maya Fey could not have stabbed the victim!”

“Can I cross-examine..”

“No. I will only accept decisive proof, not more theories and inconsistencies. Okay, Mr Wright, you had better have not wasted our time!”

The contents of my digestive system had lurched themselves into a knot as soon as Nick had started leaping up and yelling. I temporarily cease to notice my own situation and turmoils as I’m consumed with watching his approaching figure. I haven’t seen him since… t-then. The CCTVs of the courtroom fill with his image as he ascends the stand.

The darkened eye rings and scattered hair spikes suggest someone sleepless and emotionally frayed, but Nick’s eyes are contradictorily set with a sort of jaded and resigned resolution.

Has he found a contradiction which will save me? Some stupid, naive part of me still flares with hope.

But no, those eyes are nothing like when he’d throw evidence and objections in peoples’ faces back then. But he hasn’t fallen apart either. His expression is quiet yet chilling. I don’t know what to think of it.



Testimony: Phoenix Wright

“I met Mr Godot. He explained there was a ‘killer on the loose, targeting Maya Fey.’ He directed me to go and search for ‘her’.”

“Since he was with the justice department, I obeyed his instructions.”

“Mr Godot went away to the other side of the mountain, I assume searching like he said he would.”

“I first went to the cavern. I thought Maya Fey might still be inside, doing her training course, but there was no answer. There was a lock on the door that I couldn’t open.”

“Then I started checking the area in methodical order as directed. Suddenly, I heard screaming and noises. I looked in the direction they came from and saw flashes of red light. I ran toward where the light and sounds had come from.”

“When I got there, Maya Fey was passed out near the stone pillar. I was almost sure she was unconscious, and she was badly wounded from Dahlia’s attack. A knife was lying nearby on the ground, I could see it because of one of the lights. I hid behind the pillar and grabbed it before Dahlia could. I grabbed it using the folds of my sleeve, both to obscure myself in the darkness and provide some slight protection from attack.”

“Dahlia was focussed on Maya Fey, and hadn’t observed me properly. I was able to leap out and stab her cleanly before she had properly registered there was a third person on the scene. Her brief attempts to fight back did little but tear and damage my clothes, which I was still using to shield myself. I knew I shouldn’t leave prints. I was unaware Maya Fey had touched the weapon previously, so I did not think to wipe her prints off.”

---

The courtroom falls into stunned silence for a moment.

This is surreal. It can’t be – isn’t – happening.

“Why, this changes things significantly!” concedes the Judge.

“OBJECTION!” To my amazement, Ms Von Karma is complacent and smirking.

“No cross-examination, Mr Godot? Because Phoenix’s Wright’s ‘confession’ is all a contradictory LIE! It does not correspond with the facts of this case. He continually testifies about lights, YET THERE WERE NO LIGHTS AT THE SCENE! And his own testimony of them contradicts his usage of darkness to facilitate committing the murder!”

“I see no reason that this is significant enough grounds to doubt his confession, Ms Von Karma. He has explicitly confessed!”

“Oh, but Your Honour, Phoenix Wright’s ‘confession’ should be ignored. He has a history of such criminal tactics to protect murderers. And I will prove it!”

“No, Ms Von Karma. Phoenix Wright has pled guilty to murder. Any discrepancies can be uncovered at his retrial. In light of this, I’m ready to give my verdict. Pending retrial, Phoenix Wright is gu..”

“OBJECTION!”

My body’s taken on an instinctive life of its own. I’ve leapt out of my seat, ignorant of the pain of the injuries, the security freaking out, my physical distress.

“DEFENDANT! Restrain her!”

“No!”

A guard is crushing me back into my seat. My muscles resist, but have no effect.

Ms Von Karma speaks up. “Oh, but the defendant hasn’t had an opportunity to make her own confession. Let her speak."

“Nick, why?”

“Why? Why.. what?”

“Why now? Why then? Why ever? State vs Engarde.. why did you do it?”

“I.. I couldn’t let you die. Not for anything.”

Nick…

“You heard him!” I yell at the Judge. “'I couldn’t let you die, not for anything.’ He’s only ‘confessing’ to protect me.” Nick’s eyes well with fear. But thankfully the Judge seems to be reconsidering making a verdict.

“And do you have proof to support this, Ms Von Karma?”

“Of course, Mr Judge! There’s a reason I charged him as suspected accomplice or accessory to murder,” she continues. “Ever since we’ve brought him into questioning, he’s suspected of protecting Maya Fey!”

“TAKE THAT! The evidence for Phoenix Wright's motive to lie has already been entered – State vs Phoenix Wright 2013! Phoenix Wright protects Dahlia Hawthorne, well after she is clearly shown guilty of murder in the courts, even though this means a guilty verdict and death penalty for himself – when he knows he is innocent! He is repeating that proven precedent behaviour here!”

“And I will enter additional evidence: State vs Matthew Engarde 2018! Let me explain with this evidence how Phoenix Wright is clearly lying to protect Maya Fey! Here is the trial video and transcript, should I replay or have read the relevant parts now?”

“Oh, I understand now!” exclaims the Judge. “Was he in love with Matt Engarde?”

“No, Mr Judge. Matt Engarde hired an assassin who kidnapped Maya Fey, with Matt Engarde’s acquittal the requirement for her release. Without a thought, Phoenix Wright attempted to get Matt Engarde acquitted, using every lie and obvious dirty cheat imaginable, and became the disgrace of the nation. Phoenix Wright had built and constructed a reputation and sure lucrative career as a promising attorney. Yet he threw it away without thought, exposing himself as the sham he was and forcing him to disappear from society in disgrace. All to protect Maya Fey!”

Now one of her underlings is playing a select highlight from State vs Engarde on the courtroom TVs. I never really watched this part properly with Mr Godot – I was too floored by this point, and he seemed to consider it unimportant.



de Killer: I think your cross-examination has clearly demonstrated

something to me.


de Killer: You... You must wish to break your end of our agreement!


Phoenix: No! That's not...


de Killer: That's enough! If that is your intention, then there is only one thing for me to do!


Phoenix: W-Wait! Please!


de Killer: Gentlemen, ladies, please excuse me. I have a matter that I must attend to.


Phoenix: *HOLD IT!* N...No... Please... Not that... Please wait...


de Killer: Mr. Attorney! Bring this trial to a speedy end, and I may stay my hand! Otherwise...


Phoenix: Nnnngh...

Gnwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!


Judge: What in the...? Mr. Wright...?

Are you...?


Phoenix: ...



“All the assassin has to do is allude he might harm Maya Fey, and Phoenix Wright will perform any lying, unethical act in a court of law to save her!”

The Judge’s eyes bug. “A fascinating claim, Ms Von Karma. But isn’t pleading guilty to murder just a little too extreme?”

“Not for Phoenix Wright with his proven history, Mr Judge. I will show the court the relevant sections of the evidence. Here again is State vs Phoenix Wright 2013!”

Von Karma is buoyant as she directs the Judge’s attention to a part of the trial, with promise she’ll now assemble more to support her claims for the court to view. “Phoenix Wright has a proven track record of lying in court to protect his female interests. He does not have a proven track record of murder or violence! Maya Fey is clearly guilty, and Phoenix Wright is covering for her, in identical fashion to his covering for the obvious murderer, Dahlia Hawthorne, in State vs Phoenix Wright 2013!

“But is it proven he would protect Maya Fey to the same extent?” questions the Judge.

“Of course, Your Honour. You yourself presided over State vs Matthew Engarde last year. As I explained earlier, Phoenix Wright lied compulsively, used every dirty and dangerous tactic to get an obvious murderer declared innocent, and threw away a promising law career. All to protect Maya Fey, who was taken hostage!

“OBJECTION!” Godot’s throwing coffee now. “Does this mean you’re now retracting your earlier theory Phoenix Wright was absent from the scene at the time of murder, Ms Von Karma?”

“Of course not. Phoenix Wright will protect Maya Fey whether he saw the actual murder or not. He did not see the actual murder in State vs Phoenix Wright 2013 , but he protected his ex-girlfriend by default, blindly assuming her innocence in his insanity of loyalty to her! This is a clear repeat. And if he did see her commit the murder, it just gives him further motive to give a ‘confession’ to protect her, instead of letting the courts decide the truth! He protected Dahlia Hawthorne well after it was obvious his faith and trust was in error. He even ate evidence which threatened to conclusively prove her guilt!” [Ms Von Karma takes the opportunity to replay this unfortunate moment on the courtroom’s TV monitors now.]

“He only stopped protecting Dahlia Hawthorne when it was revealed she betrayed him – not because she was a murderer!”

Ms Von Karma brandishes her whip with the other hand whilst one of her underlings hastily runs up the relevant sections of State vs Phoenix Wright [2013] to prove her claims. As well as the existing entire video and transcription of the trial already in evidence, we now get Ms Von Karma’s latest director’s cut in addition.

“OBJECTION! Mr Wright never confessed to the murder in State vs Wright 2013. The prosecution’s parallel is flawed!”

Ms Von Karma is instantaneous in reply. “But Dahlia Hawthorne was not the defendant and Phoenix Wright was. All that was required to protect her was to fail to prove Dahlia Hawthorne’s guilt, not her innocence. He didn’t need to confirm his own ‘guilt’ to protect her. In this trial, he can only save Maya Fey from her deserved verdict by ‘proving’ her innocence!”

But the Judge is unmoved. “I’m sorry, Ms Von Karma. State vs Phoenix Wright 2013 still seems to support the Defense’s theory better than the prosecution. It gives Phoenix Wright a clear pre-existing motive for antagonism against the victim – after such loyalty, his ex-lover not only betrayed him but tried to murder him! And it confirms he will go to extreme lengths to protect his female interests – and given the situation and particular circumstances, it’s highly reasonable to imagine this would include murder in Maya Fey’s direct defense.”

“That’s right!” thrills Mr Godot. “A clear dual motive! I think the evidence just now speaks for itself. ‘I couldn’t let you die, not for anything!’ He’d kill to protect her! And who would NOT have a grudge against the ex-girlfriend?”

He treats us to yet another replay of part of State vs Phoenix Wright 2013 – Nick sobbing pathetically over ‘Dollie’s’ betrayal, being told she was going to murder him. I can’t help feeling a little sorry for Nick, having this most traumatic of skeletons from his closet shoved in his and the court’s face repeatedly – on such a bad day too.

“He’s had 5 years to stew over the betrayal. Then when he does meet Ms Hawthorne again, she’s in the act of stabbing Maya Fey, who he’ll do anything to protect. He was clearly seized by anger and performed the murder, probably unaware Dahlia Hawthorne was channelled.”

“Hmm, yes. Even I may be tempted into violence in such a situation.” The Judge brandishes his gavel, reminiscent of Nick’s artwork. “But murder is illegal in any circumstance, Mr Wright. Thank you for your belated confession.”

“Ms Von Karma claims he’s protected Maya Fey in questioning? Yet more to allude to his own guilt!”

Ms Von Karma’s falling apart. She’s bashing her desk futilely. “He’s insane and lying! His testimony is clearly contradictory!”

The judge ignores her. “I’ve delayed my verdict long enough..”

“OBJECTION!” I just fold at trying to think of anything reasonable to say – it’s all I can do to suppress being drowned in a useless stream of tears - so all that comes out is “Nick wouldn’t stab my m-mother…”

“Ms Fey,” Mr Godot is slow and almost compassionate. “Mr Wright didn’t know it was your mother. It was dark, too, remember.”

“What about the lights?”

“There were no lights. It’s proven the lantern wasn’t lit, and there were no lights in the area.”

“But Mr Wright testified he saw lights! Red ones!” I’m sure this is some kind of contradiction. It’s the only one we seem to have, but Nick would bluff with these to buy time…

Ms Von Karma appears to have regained some fight. “Exactly, Mr Godot! Explain this severe flaw!”

Godot seems unconcerned. “Mr Wright is probably lying. Anyway, how does the fact there were lights or not change the fact Mr Wright stabbed the victim. It’s already established he hid behind the stone lantern and his black cloak. A poisoned mug in a lit room is still poison. A ‘light’ would just make his brutal stabbing of the victim easier!”

“OBJECTION!” Ms Von Karma is back to her arrogant self. “If you claim he’s lying, is not the rest of his ‘confession’ an untrustworthy lie also?”

“Indeed. Both Ms Von Karma and Mr Godot raise important points. I fail to see how whether there were ‘red lights’ or not has any relevance to the actual murder. But this is also a discrepancy with Mr Wright’s testimony. Did you see these ‘red lights’ Ms Fey?”

“I..I can’t remember properly! Maybe I did!”

“Does the defense have any theory to account for Mr Wright’s claim?”

“Of course.” Godot seems untroubled. “It’s just more evidence Mr Wright indeed committed the crime.”

“Mr Wright was really at the murder scene, stabbing the victim, so he constructed a lying account of seeing the location from afar which makes no sense.”

“While Mr Wright was attacking and brutally stabbing the victim, he probably saw flashes from the lightning which occurred during the night.”

“A huge amount of blood was spilt during the tussle and murder, and Mr Wright was covered in it upon police discovery. Obviously, some blood dripped or sprayed in his eyes and line of sight. When illuminated, that would account for things seeming, well, ‘red’.”

“Indeed, that’s a very reasonable and solid theory,” muses the Judge appreciatively. “It well accounts for Mr Wright’s ‘confusion’. What about Maya Fey?”

“Ms Fey was in a poor physical state upon discovery, concussed, and testifies herself about losing consciousness. Vision disruption, including what might be interpreted as ‘red flashes’, are a common symptom of this.”

“Very well, that does seem rather conclusive. In light of the overriding evidence of Phoenix Wright’s confession, I declare…”

“OBJECTION!”

“Ms Von Karma! Stop interrupting!”

“But Maya Fey has not had an equivalent opportunity to make a confession, Mr Judge. It is only fair.”

“Very well. Maya Fey will take the stand. Did you stab Elise Deauxnim, or this Hawthorne person you may have perceived her as?”

Nick’s locked petrified eyes on mine. One word is emanating from them. No.

“I…I can’t remember anything. There’s just a blank. I don’t remember stabbing her. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think M-Mr Wright did it. Maybe something else happened?” I look to Mr Godot, pleading, but his eyes are, as always, not there to read.

“That’s not a confession, Ms Von Karma. It’s quite plausible Maya Fey had indeed fallen into unconsciousness or petrification during the murder by Phoenix Wright. Mr Wright’s confession is by far the most conclusive evidence we have in this case. I will accept no further interruptions.”

“ In light of the overriding evidence of Phoenix Wright’s confession, I declare Ms Maya Fey Not Guilty of the charge of murder, and Phoenix Wright guilty of the murder of Elise Deauxnim, pending retrial.”

***

"Nooooo! Please Mr Godot! How about more testimony? A contradiction?"

"The trial is over, little kitten."

"The lights! Nick said he saw red lights! I know they're important somehow!"

"Ms Fey, you're very traumatised and confused. The Judge has given his verdict. Mr Wright is guilty – you heard him admit it himself."

"He said he saw them! Maybe they're related to the crime somehow.." Mr Godot looks at me like I'm stupid. "I think we both need a nice cup of coffee and a lie down. This was all too traumatic even for a feisty kitten like yourself."

I give my best tiger snarl. Already the nostalgia is flooding back, as fast as the police are now descending on Nick. If I sensed something like that, Nick would be happy, and bluff with it to buy time while he figured out the real crime…

They're handcuffing him to take him away.

I leap out of my chair. "NICK!!"

"DEFENDANT!" The bailiffs charge after me. Since I was just declared innocent, they're not as overbearing as before, but when I close in on Nick they drag me back.

"Nick! No… I know you didn't do it!"

"I-It wasn't about Mia, Maya. I promise."

"I know you didn't do it."

There's tears in his eyes. "Thank you."

They've exited out a side door. I can't stop crying now.

If only I'd thought of something to say which could helped Nick while I was on the stand, but everything in the trial happened so fast, it's confusing and overwhelming. And somehow I couldn't plead toward guilty while Nick's fear was boring into me.

Nick will get a retrial, but it will be considered part of this case, and nobody will take it seriously after the confession, a formality more than anything. Nobody ever rolled back Mr Gant's 'reforms' or the initial trial system, and the verdict's as good as decided. The Bar Association almost certainly revoked his license, so he'll get one of those deadbeat state attorneys, whose main aim will be to get him 15 years instead of execution. I'm certain Ms Von Karma will never lose to one of them.

I trudge back to Mr Godot. Those red lights are the only contradiction Nick's given me, so it's all I can cling to. He can't have figured out what it meant though, if anything. Or did he? He didn't push very hard. Maybe they just mean something which makes it look like I'm guilty.

And if Nick didn't do it – then who did? A kind of gut feeling tells me Nick is innocent – but also that he wasn't there yet when the murder happened. It doesn't make any sense – but it makes me wonder if I really passed unconscious before the stabbing or if…

Apparently it was all so horrible that my memory blanked any detail, but maybe it's just like Ms Von Karrma said. I knew she was about to kill me, and in some kind of last-ditch instinct stabbed her in the heart like on Samurai Blood Moon III. Because I know I was holding the knife just before the memory stops. Who knows what happens when you let reflexive instinct take over to protect you?

I'm probably guilty. I can't let Nick die! I have to tell them I'm still a suspect, force them to keep investigating the crime instead of considering it a closed case and maybe turn up something proving Nick's innocence. Besides, it's the only way I might be called to testify at his trial – I doubt Ms Von Karma wants me there otherwise.

I'll tell them right away – the Judge and a lot of the courtroom are still here. Since I was declared 'innocent' the guards aren't preventing my movement as I sidle to face the Judge's bench.

"Your Honour! I have to question your 'innocent' verdict!"
Mr Godot, relieved the trial was over, had zoned into another coffee marathon.

"Is this a confession, Ms Fey?"

"I still can't remember what happened. I don't know if I did it or not. The police should still consider me a suspect."

"What the HELL!" On a caffeinated charge Mr Godot has levitated to my side. "What are you DOING? Please ignore my client. I think she's still severely traumatised."

"But Nick's innocent! I know he didn't do it! Something else must have happened. Oh Mr Godot, I know you can prove it for me!"

"Ms Fey, my defense just successfully proved and confirmed you as totally innocent."

"But… but… I think maybe I did it! And there's no other way Ms Von Karma will let me testify again. I bet the lights are important. They're a contradiction!" (Nick himself raised it. And that's all I have to go on.)

"Ms Fey, you're ranting."

"They prove I'm guilty, don't they. Is that why you're covering? I know you're hiding stuff from me!"

Mr Godot hurls his coffee to the ground. "Shut up!" He mutters, but I hear him. "Why do you make yourself so damn difficult to save?"

The Judge is still watching us with intent intrigue.

"If it's my fault, I can't let Nick die in my place! If it isn't, then PROVE it! Defend Nick at the retrial so we can figure out what happened. I'll channel Mia as your assistant, just one more time. SHE'LL figure out who did it!"

"No. I'm not defending Wright." He pulls himself back into re-ambivilance "A broken mug will smash your lips!" I'm not fooled.

"But you used to be so desperate to see Mia! I guess you think I did it, right? Your Honour, I have to question your verdict.."

Godot grabs me like an inanimate object with one arm, still swigging coffee with the other with apparent nonchalance. I'm incensed at this disrespectful treatment. I limpen momentarily to catch him off-guard, then lash out wildly. Coffee mug to the face!

There seems to be an explosion and he drops me. I scream in terror as my visual sphere fills with flashes of red light and induces a nightmare flashback. Is this some kind of trauma fit? I can't seem to stop shaking. "Mia! Nick!" I can only sob brokenly.

"Oh dear. That was rather violent, Ms Fey," murmurs the Judge. "Maybe you could stab.."

But I'm not longer in the courtroom, and I vaguely assume it must be the giant Judge from Nick's picture.

I don't know where I am any more. I think I'm back at the stone lantern, but I'm blinded by fear. I'm going to be killed!

"It's happening again! No! Nick! Where are you?"

"Mr Godot, shouldn't you attend to your client? I've seen cases like this before. I believe they call it P.T.S.D.. Or was it P.D.S.T… hmmm."

"NICK!"

Nick can't save me. I'm responsible for his impending murder. And probably Mother's as well.

"MIAAAA!!!!!"

She's gone too.

"I can't do it anymore! Everyone died and it's all my fault! Mother, Nick, Ms Andrews… Sis died.."

"That's ENOUGH, Ms Fey. Well, old man, I have something to discuss with the police department concerning this case. Confidential, mind you."

I'm shaking so much, I can barely seem to move. My only instinct is that I want to hide. I force my limbs to drag and crawl into a space which seems dark and quiet, and close my eyes.

Eventually, I realise I'm waking up – thankfully, I've stopped shaking, and I seem to be under the defense bench. I open my eyes to see an intense line of security surrounding me. It seems I'm under arrest, again.

"Why? You can't just detain me without explanation!"

"Yes we can." And it's probably true.

As if the usual handcuffing wasn't bad enough, seems there's worse to come.

"The magistrate has ruled that due to your state of physical and psychological health, you can only make statements through your defense attorney, for your own protection."

"No! This violates my rights!" I complain, having no way to delay them strapping me onto the stretcher. Damn injuries, forcing me to be compliant!

"You're entitled to a re-assessment at any time, but there's typically a cooling-off period of 3 days for your own safety."

***

I don't even have the regular 'comforts' of the detention centre in my new cell.

I was scared they'd send me to a mental hospital, but this seems to be a regular criminal facility. Visitors are screened more closely though – not that anyone but Mr Godot and maybe Pearly would want to visit me. I don't want to see Mr Godot anyway. How dare he play the 'insanity defense' behind my back!

I demanded that 'reassessment' they mentioned immediately, and channelled Mia for a nice little chat with the psychiatrist just to make sure everything would go okay. Still, Mia seems a little worried. Possibly the insanity ruling is blocking whatever charges are pending on me [I bet they were Ms Von Karma's idea.] But there will be several days before the ruling runs out.

By then, Nick's case will be over.

I have to attend his trial somehow! Maybe then I can do.. something…

I write several demands to testify, and beliefs I may be guilty of the crime, it's unproven. Surely they will raise Ms Von Karma's attention, and she'll be motivated to call me as a witness.

They're all ignored. The guard seems to feel sorry for me, and eventually tells me I'm wasting my time. "Your defense attorney managed to have you declared mentally unstable. You're unfit to testify for your own protection."

***

I'm prowling my cell. Suddenly, the guards direct me to one of those visiting rooms. Mr Godot!

"Hey! Did you do it?" I point my finger in my best impression of Nick.

"Oh dear, I see you're still ill, Ms Fey."

"I demand to testify!"

"That's up to Ms Von Karma. Anyway, I followed your suggestion and offered to defend Mr T.. Wright."

"Oh! And what did he say? Is Nick okay?"

"The unfortunate man was very suspicious and refused! I thought a message of encouragement from you might sway his hand."

"Oh, would I channel Mia to solve the case in the trial?"

"Why no, that's not possible. It seems you've been detained indefinitely."

He seems unusually cheerful over this, and it's really getting to me. And I have to question his motive to defend Nick, especially without the carrot of Mia – he hates him.

"You think I did it, don't you!"

"Of course not!"

"You're hiding something from me. Really you know I did it, don't you. The lights probably prove it somehow."

"Why are you so obsessed with these imaginary lights? Lights don't stab people. It's irrelevant if there were lights of not."

"But they're a contradiction! I don't believe Nick did it, and he said he saw them."

"If it's revealed as important, the court will discuss it during the retrial. But we're in general agreement they're irrelevant." He smirks relaxedly. "A minute chasing steam wastes a week of coffee breaks!"

I know something must have lit up the Master's Talisman, because I saw it so clearly after Dahlia stabbed me the first time. But maybe it was lightning. Still, it doesn't explain what Nick said he saw from afar.

"B..but we don't know everything that happened. You… you mean you think I did it, after all? Is that why?"

"Of course you didn't do it, Maya."

"Tell me the truth! I can't live with Nick's murder on my soul! No! Either I did it – or I'll find the person who did! You were there that night. Wasn't there anyone else you saw?"

"No."

"I'm a murderer, aren't I."

"I promise you, you aren't."

"I don't believe Nick really is. So I don't believe you. Let me make a confession!"

"Are you insane! You won't save Wright, you'll BOTH be charged with murder! If Trite wants to die for you, have the respect to let him!"

"What… did you say? So you think he's innocent too?"

"N..no. Of course not."

"Then I'm sure not telling him to let you defend him!"

Mr Godot spits coffee. I actually trapped him. But he soon gathers himself together.

"Naturally, I'd be going for the angle he was killing to protect you in your defense, semi-justified, so he wouldn't get the death penalty. Nobody else would want to touch his case."

"Go tell that to Nick. But I'm not helping you send him to rot in jail, so don't tell him I sent you."

No matter what's since happened between us, and how much of our 'partnership' was a lie or misunderstanding, Nick really did seem to believe both those times that I wasn't a murderer. Does he believe I'm not now? Did he see me do it, and is protecting me, since he thinks I didn't do it on purpose? But I think it's more likely he just didn't see the murder at all, and is protecting me because he thinks I'm innocent anyway. So I'll still believe in him too.

"Fine, I'll go convince Mr Trite on my own. The state attorney will let him drop like a lemming!" Godot drops his mug to illustrate his point, and it smashes dramatically. He seizes another from his magic mug supply, turns his back on me, and I'm escorted out of the visitor's room cell.

***

I think they gave me a sedative, but I'm waking up now. I can't let that happen again, it makes it hard to channel.

Nick won't get a proper hearing – in those types of trials it's just a formality, the Judge has already made up his mind. Especially with such a spectacular confession. Von Karma's prosecuting again. She'll do anything to get a win, I guess, especially since she needs to make up for my 'not guilty' verdict. It's just a numbers game to her. I bet even if I'm proclaimed guilty at Nick's trial instead of Nick, it'll still be a 'stain' on her perfection record.

If Nick really did see red lights then…
maybe Mr Godot was there, and saw the murder? He was around that night, somewhere. It's a long shot, but those are the only 'red lights' I can think of.

But if Mr Godot saw Nick stab Dahlia, he'd just tell police, as a witness, and testify.

That means – either he didn't see the murder, but thinks it's Nick, or he did see it and it was.. me.

Or if he was there… he could have done it, I guess.

Where'd that thought come from? I immediately feel guilty. I don't even have any kind of proof or remembrance Mr Godot was there, let alone at the time of the stabbing – and if he is trying to protect me because he thinks or knows I'm guilty, it would be the cheapest thing in the world to turn around and try to make the courts pin the crime on him. Yet another innocent person, dying in my place.

It's far more likely, if Mr Godot even was the 'red lights', he saw me stab the v..victim while I was semi-conscious, and is protecting me. I feel sick again. How am I ever supposed to know which one it is?

***

06 Feb 2019

[night of murder]

PEARL:

Pearl was so excited to be fulfilling her Mother's instructions.

She couldn't understand every word exactly, but it seemed to be something which would help Mystic Maya. And Mother would be proud of her, again!

Pearl cringed in shame. Mother had guessed she wasn't training properly. She thought it would help Mystic Maya, so people would stop thinking she'd grow up better than her and should be Master instead, but then she'd overheard Mystic Maya discussing her with some other Mystics. It turned out Mystic Maya was only worried and upset. It was important to make it up to both of them now, with this important task!

Pearl tried and tried to locate the spirit in the picture, but she couldn't find it. Had the lack of training really made her powers too weak? She wandered the area, searching for somewhere with better spiritual radiation and less interference. This was a training centre – there were probably rooms like the Channelling Chamber somewhere. Over in that faraway complex Mystic Maya went to maybe?

How to even get there? Pearl was lost. She finally found a small alcove and altar obscured in the trees – run-down, but a few spirit attracting objects were build into its ancient carvings. She focused her powers with all her might but…

nothing.

Pearl began to cry. It was now snowing, and a freezing cold wind tore through her. The alcove wasn't large enough to protect even her from the elements.

She'd just have to accept she'd failed Mother and Mystic Maya, and try and find her way back to the main building.

But Pearl was totally disoriented in the dark and visibility-impairing sheets of snow. Even when it stopped, she had no idea where she was.

Suddenly, she smelled and then saw lingering trails of smoke. There was a little shack in the distance. Was that where Mrs Bikini said Mr Nick lived now?

Maybe Mr Nick would tell her how to get back. She was still mad at him, for betraying Mystic Maya and her love, but she could just threaten to channel Mystic Mia to yell at him if he tried anything funny. He wouldn't know she c..couldn't any more.

The door opened unusually easily. But there was no one inside.

She still saw the smoke, someone had burned something, but it was just a pile of soot now.

Pearl was tired out. There was a bed, so she curled up in it, grateful for the warmth on her freezing, snow-soaked body. She must have fallen asleep, because next thing she knew, a whole lot of police were rousing her.

Pearl knew she couldn't tell about her channelling failure. What if the police told Mother – she knew the police went to that jail she was in all the time. It was shameful enough as it was. And Mystic Maya –she would probably get upset! She'd already caused so much trouble and misery for Mystic Maya.

So she just told about how she'd got lost, and wandered around. That part was all true, and the police seemed to believe her.

They were suspicious about how she'd been found in Mr Nick's house, but that seemed to make them mad at Mr Nick, not her.

And they asked about the burnt objects, but they believed her that she knew nothing, so they got mad at Mr Nick for that as well.

Pearl was confused, but then the police told her to go. She was relieved nobody asked about the channelling –so maybe the police didn't know she'd failed. When the police went to visit Mother, they'd probably tell her that Pearl was a good girl, and the task went okay.

***

10 Feb 2019

PEARL:

Pearl was at a loss. The police had finally let her go – Mr Godot had said he would pick her up, but he didn't know how long he'd be. It was scary waiting so close outside that mean whip lady's office. The only other people she knew, Sister Iris and Sister Bikini, had already left for Hazakurain, so she was all alone.

From what the police and Mr Godot told her, Mystic Maya was in jail again, another one of those 'trials' where the mean whip lady yelled at Mystic Maya and tried to lock her in jail forever like her Mother. No doubt all this had happened because she'd failed in that channelling task to help Mystic Maya.

What had the letter said? Pearl really couldn't remember. She'd lost the letter, somehow, only remembered the part about how she was supposed to channel that person. Maybe it still wasn't too late?

Oh, she'd probably lost her powers, but Pearl focused harder than ever, pouring all her desperation over Mystic Maya's plight into her efforts. Contact! And…

***

When Pearl woke up, she was confused that she couldn't see. Then she realised it was something on her head – she pulled it off. One of those hoods, she thought she identified it as. She couldn't identify this strange room though, but after wandering into another room, and another, she began to think this might be the courthouse.

"Excuse me. Can you take me to Mr Godot?" she queried a guard. He was going to pick her up, before.

"Isn't Mr Godot in a trial?" The guard took her to another, and they both seemed confused over what to do with her – no phones in the courtroom, so they had to leave a message.

When Mr Godot eventually arrived, he seemed really, really pleased to see her.

Pearl hoped this was because Mystic Maya had been saved in the trial, but it still wasn't over, so she was disappointed when Mr Godot called the Mr Scruffy Detective to take her back to wait in his office. It was a very long wait.

***

MAYA:

I channel Mystic Mildred. She was a sweet old lady, but a bit crazy. I’m not sure what she’ll do when she wakes up on police detention, but I guess we’ll find out – sort of.

And when I come to, I find I’m definitely somewhere else. There’s a nauseating smell wafting from somewhere labelled ‘Dining Hall’. There’s some really old people sitting around in wheelchairs and cane chairs. There’s a few younger people with obvious tragic and disturbing disabilities. A few are chained or discreetly handcuffed, but many seem free to roam - though I notice the windows are barred.

However they’d chained Mystic Mildred to her wheelchair can’t have fit my different body dimensions very well, because I’m free. I climb out of the wheelchair as fast as possible.

“I’ve finished visiting Auntie. Can you show me out please?” I request to some kind of worker in the next room with my best smile. ‘Trainee’ is stuck on a badge on her collar.

“Oh! Um… why are you wearing that?” She’s suddenly suspicious. Am I one of THEM?

“Auntie likes to remember her time as a child in the olden days village,” I explain. “She gets confused otherwise. I think she only remembers the past.”

“Oh, how sweet. Okay, I’m opening now. Go out when the buzzer sounds - quickly, it’ll lock again after a second.”

I walk out, and down the path, trying to appear nonchalant. Even when I hear a commotion behind me.

“Where is Ms M. Fey?”

“Is she a g..girl about 20? Because…”

“No! She’s about 70! Blackish hair, weird outfit, the one who assaulted Frank with a walking frame…”

I continue to walk relaxedly until I’ve finally exited the complex. By then they’ve already contacted police, put out an alert – but the description of the escapee is going to be a very old lady, so I’ve surely bought at least some time - Nick’s retrial is tomorrow morning, anyway.

The description included ‘weird outfit’, so I roam a few carparks, searching for a clothing bin. Sure enough, I eventually find one, with superfluous ‘donations’ dumped around in garbage bags.

Just ditching my outfit seems dangerous – what if the police find it as a clue? And I have no way of burning it to get rid of it. Besides, it will be awkward to explain, if I’m recaptured or called to testify. And everything in here is ill-fitted and makes me look like a dirty hobo, which would also attract suspicion.

So I just salvage a long coat and a hat. The coat might have appeared respectable before it got those holes in it, and I think it will fit Mia a bit better than it does me.

***

None of Mr Gant’s ‘reforms’ have been rolled back. They’re still very strict about the ‘3 day rule’. Nick’s retrial is really considered part of the same case, and those things are supposed to last a maximum of a day, except in extreme cases. Since he’s confessed, and pled guilty to murder, this is a formality. It’s a waste of department resources to make it drag longer.

Another trial has been scheduled in the same courtroom that afternoon – they figure this won’t take more than the morning.

I’ve been channelling Mia since the previous evening, but I’m jerked back into myself, finding myself in a toilet cubicle for privacy, with Mia’s status update in my hand. Mia has managed to contact Nick’s state attorney, Hannah Fright, who was assigned last night. It’s her first ever trial, so thankfully, she was open to Mia maybe showing up to give her some ‘advice’. Apparently, she got really excited even at the suggestion Mia could help her get 15 years for Nick instead of execution, so things are pretty grim – or they would have been, if Nick didn’t have Mia on his defense team.

I droop, zoned out, for several minutes. Channelling is actually very tiring and draining, even if my soul is absent, it’s not exactly like a nice sleep – much the opposite. I’m not sure stretching my wounds was beneficial to their healing either; regardless, they’re sure hurting and I don’t get the scheduled medicine or painkillers since my jail break. I wish I had a better place to recuperate than a toilet, but a courthouse is sure to be swarming with security cameras and police – they probably have them even in the main washbasin areas of the restrooms.

Did I really k..kill my mother? It’s practically unbearable, and the only obvious answer. But somewhere, I realize, I’m clinging to a hope I somehow didn’t, almost what’s keeping me sane. Mr Godot promised I didn’t, but I don’t believe him. I don’t trust him.

Then it sort of hits me. I guess it's... Nick. He seems to think I didn’t do it. Somehow, I want to trust him, even now. Nothing makes sense.

But my strongest instinct remaining in this confusional mess - way stronger than any vague hope I might somehow be innocent - is that Nick didn’t really do it.

Nick’s not even allowed to be properly present at his own trial – von Karma doesn’t want to risk him meddling in proceedings, I guess. He gets to watch from some remote box, behind security glass, guess they upgrade security after you’ve pled guilty to murder. Mia didn’t get to talk to him.

Mia’s still mad at Nick, but I’m sure she doesn’t want an innocent person to die. I told her I’d never forgive myself, ever, if he died in mine or Mr Godot’s place. Problem is, Mia probably would still choose to sacrifice him in place of myself or even Mr Godot. I told her I think maybe Mr Godot was near the crime scene and the other possibilities. I can only hope she’ll uncover some new evidence or contradiction proving Nick’s innocent. I don’t know what else to do.

I know I have to re-amass the strength to channel Mia for the entire uninterrupted duration of the trial – losing connection, even temporarily, would be disastrous in the current circumstances. I will myself into one of those hardcore meditative trances we use when we’ve frozen under a waterfall for 12 hours and are about to collapse unconscious, and the pain slips away. Damn it, I then notice I’m hungry too – guess Mia forgot to eat, being a ghost and all – but there’s certainly nothing to rectify that in here, so I focus deeper, and the hunger leaves too.

It’s hard to get a precise appreciation, but I eventually get the sense some time has passed. I don’t know the time, but I can’t afford to delay any longer.

While scanning for Mia’s spirit, I focus the rest of my brain on picturing her image in my mind.

It’s essential to perform the visual transformation correctly, today especially. Sometimes spirits get called without executing the physical transformation properly or at all, and you’d never know, since you’ve already absented, or it can misfire, causing a grotesque half-transformation which will freak the general public out. These kind of accidents happen all the time to our mediums-in-training – of course, they’re not deemed ready for prime-time. You have to set the transformation in motion at the simultaneous instant to drawing the ghost soul into your body and throwing your own out, along with a psyche-swap – it’s a pretty complex task.

***

MIA:

Mia had little interest in bailing Phoenix out yet again. Let that idiot fend for himself!

But she still felt she owed Maya after the previous Diego misunderstanding.

And she at least owed Maya a better closure on the crime. Some things were still unsolved, even if Phoenix HAD done it. Maya didn’t seem to believe in her innocence either, not regarding Phoenix’s confession as any kind of believable proof. Mia didn’t want to even begin to think what it would be like for Maya to suffer a lifetime suspecting maybe she’d accidentally killed their mother.

As well as Hannah Fright, Mia had rung Diego regarding the case, grasping for answers, information and another perspective.

She had to admire his dedication. Maya had caused a lot of problems for Diego – she’d made a guilt confession to the Judge, even after the innocent ruling, and with the case still officially unresolved, that was more than enough ammunition to overturn the verdict and retrial her as suspected murderer. Von Karma had pounced and put this in motion immediately.

Thankfully, Maya had then had some kind of panic attack, conveniently for the Judge and most of the court to view. It was then fairly easy for Diego to enact the fact she was psychologically unstable, and medically unfit to make statements not screened by her defense attorney, for her own protection. The protection should last 3 days, by then the retrial of Wright would have found HIM guilty, the case would be closed, and Von Karma’s impending charges on Maya would not longer be relevant and her original ‘innocent’ verdict would stand.

Mia was slightly grateful she hadn't had the opportunity to face Phoenix in person; so far as she could discern, he’d somewhat regressed away from the productive ideals of his defense attorney career, back into a far more cynical and jaded version of the non-law defensive values she’d met at the original State vs Phoenix Wright 2013.

Although, as then, she could appreciate his good intentions of lying and obscuring the truth to protect Maya, in practice, it was as stupid then as it was now, even though protecting Maya was a cause she could fully support. Mia didn’t quite have the ability to grasp Phoenix’s [unknown to her] personal hell of no longer trusting the ability of utilizing truth or contradictions he himself or others sensed to achieve justice; it was a little alien to her so she really didn’t respect what she could see of it.



***

PHOENIX:

“Oh! G-good morning, Mr. Wright!” I attempt to disentangle a hand to meet hers’ outstretched, but the chains don’t permit it. Her fake smile slips. Awkward.

It takes all of a microsecond to discern my attorney’s fresh off the bar. Perhaps I was lucky to ‘only’ suffer The Butz… no. Not going to think of that. I notice myself hanging my head, averting my gaze from the imminent jarring of injurious recollection. But it doesn’t stab with the same anticipated fatality as usual.

I was so stupid, so naive and idealistic, so wrong all along. But it’s all over now. I can’t rectify the mistakes of my past, but I did, belatedly but maybe not quite too late, learn something from them. I can only hope – no, maybe ‘hope’ is the wrong word – that this works out.

Ms Fright eyes me tremulously. Oh yeah. I’m an admitted murderer, no wonder. Believing in my innocence would be silly, and I don’t want it anyway. Still, I wish I could manage to make her feel more at ease. It’s not like she’s hit a very rewarding assignment.

Actually, she seems just as nervous of the police guards here crushing me. Those guys never leave. No confidentiality whatsoever.

Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t make her feel too at ease. I don’t want it to be overly disheartening when I’m found guilty. I guess she’ll work on reducing my sentence. Life imprisonment, execution… it’s all one to me, really. Admittedly, I didn’t think too hard on the next step, but somehow living out my years in max security sounds worse than just ending it all. And what if Maya comes to visit me in jail? I’m more scared of that, really…

“Mr Wright, can I please ask…. Did you kill the victim? Or the, um, ghost?”

I inhale deeply. “It really doesn’t matter any more.”

A renegade part of me screams forth and tries to throw itself at her feet, still wanting to claim to her I didn’t do it, beg her to find the ‘real’ ‘truth’. But I can’t thrust that kind of ridiculous implied responsibility on her, something I was way too incompetent to manage myself, even when I was supposedly ‘experienced’. It was a .. bizarre act of randomness.. I managed to hit Mia in that trial long ago, and even Mia met with disaster in the sole case her client had pled guilty.

And how else can she get me free than pinning it on Maya again? I was the coward who ran away. I notice myself attempting to wipe off my sweat-soaked palms, to limited success.

…Okay, I admit it. I am petrified of dying.

But I think of Maya. That letter she wrote me in that irreconcilable case. The tears in her eyes when she realised her mother was dead. The way her body shook when they were going to hand down that farcical ‘Guilty’ verdict. I can’t - won’t - betray her a second time. The least I can do is be strong for her the way she was so unreciprocatedly strong for me!

“Oh. Uh… Are you conducting religious meditations, Mr Wright?”

I jolt.

“N..No, no, no, I’m….” I can’t tell her about Maya!

“What’s that you’re holding? It seems.. important to you.” Ms Fright leans closer, then squeaks in consternation. Oh yeah, I guess that green glow is mildly confronting.

“I need your clarification, Mr Wright. Did you really date this,” she flicks her eyes to her notes, “Dahlia Hawthorne?”

“Yes.” Avoid unnecessary lies, keep detailed info to a minimum, I figure.

“And you thought Dahlia Hawthorne was present and stabbed Maya Fey?”

“Yes.”

“Even thought Dahlia Hawthorne is confirmed deceased.”

“Yes.”

“So you do know Dahlia Hawthorne is deceased – and knew it that night?”

“So I was told.”

“Um, how do you explain her appearance then, Mr Wright?”

“Elise Deauxnim was channelling her ghost.”

“Oh.”

Now I know how it must feel when Maya tells the mundane world she’s a spirit medium.

“So you were in a trance and saw a, um, religious vision of a ghost?”

“Not exactly.”

Hannah’s confused.

Yeah, she can’t portray me as the poor, gentle monk when I’ve continually admitted murder, so she’ll probably have to take the angle I’m crazy and murdered at the mercy of my ‘religious vision’.

She’s trying to be tactful, but I know what her incredulous eyes are thinking.

Well, I admit I was still scared witless at what I had to emotionally relive and confront every time I saw the image of [?] Dahlia Hawthorne – and it extended well beyond that formerly-suppressed torture back in college. People probably do think I’m crazy, and I’ve ceased to care. From what they said in court, it seems like that Iris person might have indeed just been Dahlia’s relative or something, but I can’t find it in myself to care much about this revelation; other concerns are taking priority in my brain to point of its frequent obliteration.

I would have died for you. I flinch.

What will she ask next? It’s hard to anticipate. I carefully re-rehearse in my head. It’s essential to keep my recollection of events from becoming accidentally contradictory in a manner which could cast suspicion back on Maya.

Maya didn’t think I really did it.

A part of me flails out, grasping onto the fleeting glimpse of the solidarity we used to share. Her faith was misdirected. I know how that feels; I should have known better.

“Tell me more about your relationship to Dahlia Hawthorne.”

I heave a shuddered sigh. “5 years ago, she pretended to fall in love with me, and gave me some evidence from a crime as a gift. When she murdered somebody I was arrested instead. I had no idea about her past or present criminal behaviour until they told me in the trial. I was delusional and stupid. I never saw her again after that.”

“What makes you think Maya Fey isn’t the same?”

Oh NO. I was caught off-guard, Ms Fright is more insightful than she looks.
The familiar agony surges - and recombines with a searing urge to protect Maya at all costs. I diffuse reality into my best crazed monk expression, then set my eyes.

“Maya Fey did not frame me for murder.”

I’ve gotten good at disguising the actual objects of my distress in mystery. I never told them anything about what tortured me at Hazakurain, of course. But the same tactics might backfire here; practically every secret I ever held was torn open for the courts the other day.

I’d tried to disassociate from that time. I really did forget the whole thing… until that Dahlia double appeared at Hazakurain. I was such a gullible idiot back then. Still am – look how Engarde played me for a fool!

Before I ruined everything, I’d almost forgotten about Dahlia; I think the new focuses in my life were more than enough compensation for the imaginary ‘relationship’ and even the trauma. But I threw all them away, and every time I saw that… ‘Iris’, it was like a dual trigger. I was thrust back through the abyss of time to my distraught and helpless younger self, my absolute loyalty unrequited and so utterly betrayed, exploited, USED. But it’s worse than the original torture, because it reminds me of who I effectively treated in the same way. And just in case I’d forgotten any vestige of the distress I felt, the courts had to play the videos of it ad infinitum the other day.

“So…. This ‘Dahlia Hawthorne’ betrayed you?”

“Y…yes.” I only just catch myself to avoid cringing, hideous memories still rise to the fore.

“Why wouldn’t Maya Fey be the same?”

Maya’s eyes float jarringly into my mind, all those times they conceded that dogged trust and misguided loyalty, so unadmittedly reminiscent of my delusional younger self and the still remaining vestiges of buried longing.

Even the suggestion Maya is like Dahlia Hawthorne! There’s a pounding in my head and I notice every part of me has tensed; I want to leap out of my seat and scream in the way I can’t with the security arrangements. Oh great, I think I’m going to go crazy… Actually, maybe that’s not a bad thing.

“No. I betrayed Maya Fey… by killing her mother,” I finish.

“I thought you said it was Dahlia Hawthorne?”

“It was. Dahlia Hawthorne’s ghost was being channelled in Elise Deauxnim’s body.”

“Oh. I…see.”

***

[chapter 11]

MIA:

There was almost nothing to work with. Of course, Hannah and Mia hadn't been able to investigate and uncover new evidence, so they could only work with what Ms Von Karma deigned to present, along with the witnesses she deigned to present. New witnesses weren't even considered necessary by the Judge; the confession had been enough. Officer Meekins was back again, this time with a 'reconstruction of events' which matched Phoenix's 'confession'. A soap operatic account of his 'dual motives' were presented by Ms Von Karma, with video evidence support.

Mia grasped for alternate theories. Did Dahlia, knowing she was Misty, suicide? But wouldn't she have injured Maya a bit better before – it was hardly a stab which would be fatal if treated, just disabling? Did Dahlia frame Maya for murder by killing 'herself'?

Why was her Mother channelling Dahlia in the first place?

And of course, there was no way of explaining all this 'spirit channelling' stuff to Hannah. She seemed to be under the impression it was like a religious cult, and Misty was in a delusional trance where she thought she was 'Dahlia', maybe dressed up as her.

Understandably, Hannah had seemed reluctant to accept some strange lady she'd never met before to be her official aide in the courtroom – how was she supposed to explain who she was, exactly? "I used to be a defense attorney, but was forced to retire 3 years ago due to an injury," she'd told her, but there was nothing to prove it was true.

###

PHOENIX:

I never wanted to set foot in a courtroom again. Almost superstitiously, I was convinced I couldn't handle it, I thought maybe I could run from having to fully remember my former self and what I did. Somehow forget. And if I did return, it would emotionally destroy me.

Of course, I was forced to revisit the courtroom, most nights. Though I wasn't usually dragged in in chains. (Or locked in the max-security version defendant box, the way I am now.)

And then, when the worst-feared scenario actually happened, it was every bit as hideous as my worst nightmares. But for drastically differing reasons.

I'm pretty sure that 'mirror' wall there is one-sided. With the instinctive panic of predicted discomfort, I feel myself flicking my head away – no use! The place is a regular mirror-glass prison. I cringe in trepidation as I feel… a minor irritation at my reflection. *My hair is all out of place!* Must… redeem it to re-spiked perfection, as best I can with the handcuffs chafing me, anyway.

…Wait. The deja-vu is casting me back to a distant but recent past, but I'm pretty sure my usual panic of mirrors isn't spurred by fear of a bad hair day.

I peer back through the little part which isn't reflecting, window to the defendant's sorry fate in the courtroom. I blink rapidly. I'm sure I'm seeing someone….. I never expected to see.

Months of paranoid waking nightmares rehearsed and panicked this moment. My rational mind knew it would never happen – as if I'd see Mia again! –but I expected it with delirious trepidation all the same. But now I am – I'm sure! laying eyes on her, confronting her and every torturous memory connected. No, I don't want to face her. Oh she wouldn't understand a thing. But the imagined fear isn't there. I know, for once, I'm doing the right thing, the option left to me in the circumstance. I'm not delusional this time. And I'm fully aware of the consequences.

So they must have let Maya go free then. I notice my fists unclench and somehow the hard wooden bench seems immediately softer.

Did Maya ask her to defend me? Or is she here because of her mother and wants to see due vengeance? I don't hold out too much hope; things are too far gone even for a lawyer like Mia and it's not like Mia or Maya had the opportunity to pull some secret weapon info or evidence. I have my suspicions, but it could just be my personal biases talking, and there's no way I could use evidence or testimony to expose them. I doubt Mia could either. A lot of things criminals do are outside the control of the courts.

But Mia's not about to re-incriminate Maya to 'save' me, and this is reassuring.

Mia was wrong to think I could be a lawyer like her. A masterful few are smart, competent and talented enough to work the system. But she was wrong to think I was one of them.

I guess we both misjudged, we were too idealistic, thinking we could win by uncovering the 'truth' in a court.

The powers of injustice still caught up with Mia and killed her.
The powers of total incompetence caught up with me; a victim of myself.

My own stupid incompetence. In the end I didn't save Maya either, I only saved Matt Engarde. I just betrayed her in every way possible. Oh, I assumed DeKiller would let her go free, but that was up to him keeping his word, not my actions!

Where did I get the crazy idea I could fix anything by defending Engarde in court? 'Exposing the truth'. What a joke. Naively hoping things will turn out and the forces of truth can win over, especially by my own hand? I can't believe I was so stupid.
I'll never forgive myself for throwing it away, for betraying her trust.

But I'm not blind and naive now. I've learned from my mistakes.

Thinking of Mia still inflicts painful internal avoidance, but for the first time since I last saw her, I've been feeling reassuring memories too.

"Phoenix, your greatest weapon in a court of law is your belief."

My only weapon.

I don't know exactly who the real murderer was, and I don't really care! It wasn't Maya. "Contradictions' or 'evidence'? What's the point. The real killer probably has the court in their pocket. Maybe a genius like Mia could expose them that way. As if I could, even if I was a l..lawyer. But Mia wasn't totally wrong about me. I finger the magatama. My main error was directing it at the wrong people, including myself. "I'll never forgive you, ever." No, I won't either. But I have no regrets on how things should go down today.

I guess I was lucky they elected to return the Magatama after the full-body search; it sure got me some weird looks. The Justice Department deemed it an essential personal 'religious object' and it would be classified unethical to force me to part with it.

My stomach still lurches in consternation at the prospect of facing Mia, but the outrageous panic is replaced by an oddly numbing calm. Oh, Mia won't understand at all, I know, but this time, for the first time, I'm totally secure I'm doing the right thing, have made the right decision.

Maybe I should ask? "Excuse me, Chief, but what's it like being dead?" …On second thoughts, that's probably tactless, in more ways than one. Particularly if she thinks she's supposed to be helping defend me.

###

MIA:

As predicted, Hannah made no leeway in helping Phoenix before the first recess –it was, after all, a virtual hopeless case. It seemed that Ms Von Karma had already pre-empted the 'problem' that Diego was patrolling the area and knew [or told Phoenix Wright] that Dahlia Hawthorne was on the loose, targeting Maya Fey.

She, of course, just used it as further ammunition to support that Wright had done it.

"I present into evidence: Retired Incident #633666825's final report, from the Justice Department."

Testimony: RETIRED INCIDENT #633666825

"In State Security Prison #6, a death row inmate, Dahlia Hawthone, was heard to rant to another inmate, Morgan Fey, how she was going to murder Maya Fey at Hazakurain in 2019."

"An incident was filed with police, and an investigation was conducted, which included Mr Godot on the investigation team, but there seemed to be no way for Ms Hawthorne to execute such a threat from her maximum security prison, so it was dismissed. Nonetheless, her execution priority was upgraded, and she was executed on 1 Jan 2019 to put an end to any murder plots she may have thought to have been planning."

"Since Dahlia Hawthorne was dead, the incident was considered closed."

"When Pearl Fey went missing, Mr Godot went to search for her. This situation caused him to recall Retired Incident #633666825. This site was a training venue for supposed 'spirit mediums'. Due to superstition or delusion, Dahlia Hawthorne – or someone believing they were 'channelling' Dahlia Hawthorne's ghost – might indeed resurface. Perhaps the planned assassination threat to Maya Fey should be taken seriously. If any of the spirit mediums present had heard of the planned incident, it might also 'occur' due to pure superstition and the power of suggestion."

"Mr Godot then heard screaming, and distant sounds. He thought it best to patrol the area, in his capacity with the Justice Department. Now superstitious, he feared the worst – this was a site with multiple people believing they were spirit mediums. And clearly someone was in trouble. He panicked, saw Mr Wright, and directed him to aid in his search."

"Mr Godot searched a different area to Mr Wright, not in direct proximity to the murder scene. By the time he arrived at the murder scene, the victim had been dead some time, and Wright was already there, having been present a while also, as Mr Godot didn't see him arrive, and there was only one entry to the dead end where the body lay. "

"Phoenix Wright's testimony to police confirms Mr Godot contacted police and paramedics less than a minute after his arrival on the scene, giving him a recorded time of arrival. Taking into account the condition of the deceased victim's corpse upon paramedic and police arrival, [adding the response turnaround] it does appear Mr Godot's phone call was at least 5 minutes after the victim's death. Phoenix Wright had arrived before Mr Godot. Therefore, Mr Godot only arrived quite some time after the victim was already dead."

Hannah could make little leeway in her cross-examination. She raised the possibility that maybe the recorded time of arrival wasn't the only time Mr Godot visited the scene, but without any evidence to support this theory, the Judge ignored it and she dropped it. Disheartened, she was more than eager to accept Mia's assistance following the recess.

But Diego knew that spirit channelling was real, so clearly he'd never consider the incident 'retired'. Mia knew there was no way to raise or prove that contradiction in court though.

He'd probably planned in advance to search for signs of Dahlia? But things had clearly gone wrong – he hadn't prevented her from stabbing Maya. This could be viewed as a Department bungle on his part – dismissing a legitimate murder plot instead of bringing it back to proper police attention – and as an embarrassing failure to his ego. Either of these alone would be enough motive for that arrogant individual to try to cover his involvement and pre-existing knowledge.

They didn't necessarily indicate he was at or near the actual murder.

And if he'd planned to prevent the plot, failed, AND arrived just in time to see or suspect Maya was driven into murdering Dahlia –this would be an even more bruising failure on his part, and could also lead to his both covering his own knowledge and involvement, and defending Maya, feeling guilt he failed to prevent the murder incident.

It would probably be more productive to draw information out of Diego outside the official court mechanisms.

###

Well, if Diego was at the murder scene, she'd somehow have to goad him into admitting it. Maybe by making it seem framed in a positive light?

"Your Honour, I don't believe Mr Wright was even present during the actual murder at all. He is covering for Maya Fey. I must say how impressed I am at his dedication. Quite heroic really!"

"Defense Aide! This is no time for subjective comments!"

"Ms Von Karma," shouted Hannah. "Might the victim have suicided, by her insanity or in response to stabbing Maya Fey in her insanity? Perhaps she thought Maya Fey was dead!"

"We already checked that. Haven't you read the autopsy report! Amateur! Here is the relevant page! 'The cadaver did not show evidence of grasping an object during death, and death was effectively instantaneous.' And see the report on the murder weapon. The prints from Maya Fey's right hand cover and deface the lingering prints from the victim!" Hannah rapidly deflated.

###

Diego wasn't defending or prosecuting, and had seemed reluctant to arrange a meeting over the phone, but as Mia predicted, he'd shown to the trial, and he could hardly resist her confronting him during the next recess. He was trapped anyway. She knew the courthouse well.

She may no longer be an actual defense attorney, but Mia steeled her mind into her defense attorney mindset. And the factual reality was that there was a significant possibility Diego had been at the crime scene, had acted suspiciously, and was almost certainly concealing information from the courts and everyone else.

Mia didn't necessarily like using dirty tricks to get a confession, but this was a special case.

"Maya says she saw you at the murder scene!"

It wasn't strictly true, of course, Maya had written about how Phoenix had testified about red lights he'd seen from afar, and how she thought maybe she'd seen them too, and how there were red lights on his mask. Diego had been searching the area that night, so…

"I only got there after Wright."

"But Maya knows Wright wasn't there yet when the murder happened. And she says she now remembers you were there before him – before or during the murder."

"Then she must be mistaken. I only arrived on the scene just after Wright was there –and the murder had just occurred. I was too late to intervene, perhaps she thought she heard or saw me coming from a distance?"

"Then why didn't you testify as a witness about Wright? It could have cleared Maya's charge immediately. As it is things are a mess, and Maya is still afraid she did it. So I know you're lying."

"Oh… kitten. You want the truth?"

"Yes?"

"Maya stabbed the victim while she was semi-conscious. A reflex reaction, she probably didn't know what she was doing. I couldn't bear to have her feel the torture of guilt or face death for her 'crime' so I have been covering for her. You understand, don't you?"

Mia was taken aback. It could be true. Perhaps Maya's reflexes really could re-enact a stabbing from a samurai movie? But then again, she'd gotten a mistaken impression from Diego last time. And, admittedly, she didn't want to believe it was true.

"I heard the commotion of the attack, but I was just too late – when I arrived on the scene close enough to see she was already stabbing Dahlia. But Wright arrived from the other direction"

"Oh. Then Phoenix must have seen the murder too! That's why he's even willing to pretend to confess his guilt and die for her. I must say I'm impressed. It certainly makes up for that unfortunate Engarde trial."

"Kitten! But that.."

"I thought he was a coward, but he's actually a hero! Somehow, we'll have to ensure his sacrifice is never forgotten! Dying for my sister… I think I'll go and tell Phoenix right now how much I appreciate it! …But the main problem is Maya keeps demanding he wasn't there at he time of the murder, and you were, so she still thinks she's guilty anyway. Any idea how we can fix this up?"

The recess was ending; Mia only hoped Diego's ego bruising wouldn't misfire and make things worse. She had to return to Hannah now anyway, with their latest tactic.

Of course, Mia didn't want to believe or even consider the possibility Diego was the true killer, but she forced herself to keep firmly in the professional mindset. The truth would come out. If he was innocent of the murder, it would become obvious. She also kept in the professional mindset to allay her significant emotional fears over Maya. She had to. Nobody could be helped if she fell apart.

###

Hannah Fright was excited to have an actual game plan, even though it seemed likely to fall apart and had scant evidence. But her client was pretty much a dead man walking anyway, so there was nothing left to lose really. Did she sound imposing as she shouted? That was a new feeling.

"One person was actively searching the area for 'Dahlia Hawthorne', the alleged channelling incarnation of the victim , just before the murder, who had NOT been properly accounted for! The defense alleges Mr Godot was present at the crime scene. Furthermore, at the moment of the murder! Mr Godot was confirmed to be present and searching in the general area. The red lights Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey testifying to seeing were Mr Godot's vision device!"

Mia knew they were taking a risk here. If Diego was called as a witness to the crime, he'd probably simply testify that he saw Phoenix do it. Along with the confession, the Judge would probably just hand down a verdict immediately, without a cross examination. If Hannah demanded one, and raised why he'd not testified this initially to clear Maya's name, he'd think of some bluff like not wanting to be a suspect to the crime, or afraid he wouldn't be allowed to defend Maya then due to conflict of interest, or some other thing which would be suspicious, but not the type of conclusive proof they needed that he was lying – and the suspicion would then all be cast back on Maya anyway.

With her prints on the murder weapon being the sole concrete evidence in this case, and the case having dragged to the 3 day mark, the Judge could still hand down a guilty verdict on her, or both could be charged with murder or as accomplices to murder.

GODOT Testimony:

"I searched around the area that night. Perhaps Phoenix Wright earlier saw my mask in the distance. I did pass by quite close to the lantern, but I wasn't close enough to see the murder. It took place in a dark dead end, remember, and I was at the entrance. With no other light, the mask's glow would travel."

Mia knew Diego was probably lying, and she told Hannah so. But neither could spot any real contradiction to prove it – not one supported by the evidence supplied by Von Karma. Hannah was no match for Diego in the 'pressing' department either. Mia could sense she was getting intimidated. Most of the state attorneys assigned to hopeless cases like this one were work experience students, and she suspected Hannah was one of them.

"D..didn't you hear the murder?"

"I heard sounds, but I couldn't tell exactly where they were coming from. There was a strong wind, and lightning. I looked down the dead end, but I couldn't see all the way to the end, and I moved on to check adjacent areas. I heard a scream, but I didn't know exactly where it came from. My senses aren't so good since my coma – that's why I wear this vision device, obviously."

"Badgering the disabled! Shame!" yelled someone in the audience – probably brought in to be Von Karma's cheer squad? Mia sighed as Hannah then dropped this line of questioning.

At least Diego hadn't testified he'd seen Phoenix commit the murder. He himself must have realised how suspicious that would seem, not raising it earlier to get Maya free.

Did Phoenix do it? If he did, Diego didn't witness the murder itself.

If Maya did it, Diego may or may not have witnessed it.

Mia's professional mind conceded she was just as suspicious Diego did it, but she and Hannah had no opportunity to raise any proper evidence confirming he was there, let alone tying him to the actual murder. And no matter what Maya insisted, nothing marked Phoenix as innocent of the crime. Going on his past insane quirks, Mia was wiling to accept the theory he was covering for Maya, though. Did he see her do it, or was he protecting her by default? Mia sighed, she'd possibly never know.

She still hadn't got to talk to her 'client'. Maybe it was for the best; he'd just sort of shut down in that terrible Engarde farce, right when they had that evidence he could maybe have turned things around with.

Mia wanted to believe in her sister. All she could do is hope that if she was truly innocent, she'd provoked in Diego the decency [?] to confess.

"Why were you not more forthcoming in explaining your presence before or during Maya Fey's trial, Mr Godot? It's a little suspicious," queried the Judge.

"I admit, I did wrong. But I made no secret of my presence to police following the incident. Furthermore, I did not see anything of momentous enough significance to testify over, as the police and Ms Von Karma correctly discerned. I could sense it was a departmental and personal professional failure that the incident was considered 'retired' instead of seen as the genuine threat it still was, and that this fatal related tragedy still occurred. "

"I see. Well your personal professional guilt does appear to explain matters – and your decision to defend Maya Fey. It's for your superiors at the Justice Department to decide if there's any professional censure over this unfortunate oversight. "

"But, " continued the Judge, "whether and how there was departmental failure in dismissing the potential threat last year has no bearing on the actual scene and moment of the murder!"

Mia had scanned the text of Retired Incident #633666825 's report, but there was nothing to shed much useful light on the murder – or that could really be used now. Only very general details were contained [or reported, at least] in Dahlia's prison conversation – that she planned to murder Maya Fey in Hazakurain in 2019, pretending to be her identical twin Sister Iris, who would then instead be blamed and charged. This just matched up with what had already been uncovered – Iris was proven to be locked in the cavern, and probably was not a genuine willing accomplice to a plan originally meant to frame her for murder. A search of Kurain was conducted, with and under Mr Godot's direction, but found nothing.

Still, some other things were contradictory.

"In the previous trial," challenged Mia, "Maya Fey testified she was chased down a 'dead end'. How could Phoenix Wright have got past the battle to hide behind the lantern unobserved?"

"An excellent point," agreed the Judge. "Ms Von Karma?"

"Simple. Apart from it being pitch dark and Phoenix Wright himself testifying he used his black cloak to conceal himself whilst Dahlia Hawthorne's eyes were on Maya Fey, there is a second method, which I will now demonstrate to the court!"

"The 'dead end' Maya Fey was chased down had a discrete but tall locked gate, requiring a key. Naturally, a body search of Phoenix Wright upon arrest found a copy of this very key on his personage. With his – and only his – prints all over it!"

[Some of the crowd gasp in unison as Von Karma enters Phoenix Wright's Key into evidence.]

"OBJECTION! Phoenix Wright lived at Hazakurain," countered Hannah. "He likely had a copy of the key legitimately – wasn't he some kind of assistant monk? Maybe it opened other doors on the site in addition?"

"How he obtained the key is irrelevant! His possession of it at the time proves he could have seen the pursuit, and gone around the back way, from behind the lantern, knowing he'd meet them in the opposite direction. He unlocked the gate, then hid behind the lantern. Perhaps he even initially intended to lead Maya Fey to safety? But by the time he arrived, the situation was worse, Maya Fey had been stabbed and fallen down, incapable of further movement."

"The victim was armed, and with Maya Fey semi- or unconscious and the knife on the ground, he likely reasoned it would only be a matter of time before the victim likely picked up the knife and stabbed Maya Fey again. So Phoenix Wright seized the knife, and was inspired to commit murder. The end."

"Then why would he lock the gate again? Or was it unlocked on police arrival?"

"The gate is a security gate. It locks automatically upon closure. Naturally visitors – such as Maya Fey and Mr Godot –would not be given access to such a key."

"How come Mr Wright didn't testify about a 'gate' in his confession?"

"Because, Hannah Fright, he merely explained he ran to where he heard the screaming and noises coming from. He knew the site. If the back route was faster and more direct, of course he'd take it without thought! It's as if you encountered a killer in your own back yard. Naturally you'd run away through your own back door, not thinking to explain why you didn't instead run the long way to the front!"

"A very soild argument, Ms Von Karma."

"Thank you, Mr Judge." Von Karma curtseyed like a puppet.

Suddenly, one of Ms Von Karma's subordinates rushed, panting, to the scene.

"What's that?"

"Oh. The defense will be pleased to note the embargo imposed on Maya Fey has just been overturned."

"What?" gasped Mia and Diego.

"Yes! That foolish lie Maya Fey was too psychologically disturbed to be charged based on her confessions was ruled now irrelevant and overturned!"

"And I have a very explicit written confession from her here! Why, where exactly is Maya Fey!" She smirked knowingly at Mia. "I believe I will prepare a summons for her re-arrest immediately."

"No! She's only doing it to protect Phoenix Wright!"

"SILENCE!" The Judge pounded his gavel, in jarring discordance with the pounding headache now descending on Mia Fey.

"I see," reaffirmed the Judge, studying an official document. "Ms Fey's repeated claims she may be guilty of the murder – even after winning an innocent verdict – should not longer be viewed as someone psychologically disturbed or fragile!"

"The defense wishes to view Maya Fey's confessional correspondence!" Perhaps there would be something – anything – they could work with here?

"No," smirked Von Karma, wagging her finger tauntingly. "these are classified Police Department materials. You can only view the example I enter as official evidence for the trial."

Which, of course, turned out only to be statements she didn't remember, and her innocence should still be considered debatable.

Diego seemed genuinely upset. Mia could only believe he really had wanted to protect Maya from the charges.

"The current defendant and previous defendant, Maya Fey, have both confessed to the murder. In light of Maya Fey's prints on the weapon being decisive evidence, I revert to my original charge of Maya Fey as guilty of murder, and Phoenix Wright as her deliberate and direct accomplice to murder, furthermore, actively obstructing justice by covering her crime from the courts!"

[chapter 12]

MIA:


“Nooooooo!” I’m too old for this. I’m dead. I think I’m past it.


There didn’t seem to be any decisive proof that anyone other than Maya did it. It’s not like they’d had an opportunity to go and collect new evidence themselves – they could only rely on what von Karma deigned to present to them, and the witnesses she allowed.


Sure, Diego had admitted he was there watching from nearby part of the time, but there’s no evidence or testimony to tie him to the actual murder, and both of those poor suicidal idiots had given ‘confessions’. Worst of all, Maya could well be guilty, and Mia sorely did not want to be the one who just uncovered more evidence to prove to her she did it. Perhaps if her defense attorney had her plead guilty to accidental manslaughter or justified self defense she would be charged with this downgraded offense….


Hannah looked to Mia in confusion. “What, isn’t this a positive development? Someone else confessed! Our client’s offense was downgraded!”


“Maya!!!!”


“Well,” continued von Karma, smirking at Mia pointedly, “the prosecution is just waiting on Maya Fey’s arrival. I believe you have already decided your verdict, Your Honour?”


“The defense demands to cross-examine Sister Iris of Hazakurain!”


“Ms von Karma?”


“I believe that won’t be necessary, Your Honour. Both suspects have confessed. Why would we need further superfluous testimony?”


“Very well, you make an excellent point. The Defense’s request is denied.”


“About how long will it take for Ms Fey to be summonsed, Ms von Karma?”


“That I can’t say, I’m afraid, Your Honour. I believe certain other people in the courtroom may have a better idea. “


“Well, this entire saga has run over schedule as it is. Technically, Ms Fey’s presence is not required to hand down my verdict, we already discussed her case for some days. I’ll call a recess, and if Ms Fey is not present after it, I’ll hand down my verdict anyway. Any objections, Ms von Karma?”


“Of course not, Your Honour.”


Mia decided to stall for time. “Would you please share your full reasoning behind the verdict, Your Honour?” Half the courtroom staff and some of the audience groaned. It’s a right, though a rarely exercised one. The Judge wasn’t expecting it either, and he began to scribble notes. At least it was forcing him to consider his verdict carefully.

“Mr Godot may have been present at the crime scene, but there is no evidence of when he got there.”

“If he had witnessed Phoenix Wright stab the victim, he would have testified this as evidence. So if Phoenix Wright is the murderer, Mr Godot did not witness the stabbing.”

[“How can we prove Mr Godot witnessed the stabbing?” Hannah hissed desperately to Mia. Mia was at a loss.]

“If he witnessed Maya Fey stab the victim, he may not be testifying because she is his client. Did Maya Fey bribe her attorney to stay silent? Or, alternately, he may have not seen Maya Fey perform the murder. So if Maya Fey is the murderer, Mr Godot may or may not have witnessed the moment.”

MR GODOT:

“There is no evidence tying him to the crime.”

“The only evidence he may have been present at the crime scene is vague indirect testimony by the two murder suspects”

“Even this does not establish he was present at the time of murder, if he was there part of the time.”

MS MAYA FEY:

“Maya Fey’s prints are on the confirmed murder weapon, concrete evidence that she handled it before the murder”

“It is clearly proven she was present during the moment of murder.”

“Her direct motive and opportunity to commit murder in self defense are clear and ‘reasonable’.”

“She herself continues to imply her guilt, even after an ‘innocent’ verdict. Perhaps this alludes Ms Fey does have the decency to have some level of remorse for her crime.”

MR PHOENIX WRIGHT:

“Phoenix Wright’s confession clearly pointed to him being the murder, but in light of Maya Fey’s own subsequent confessions and the possible motive of protecting Ms Fey, there is greater evidence pointing to Ms Fey being responsible for the crime. The possibility that Mr Godot – then called as her defense attorney –may have been present – just casts further suspicion on Ms Fey, rather than Mr Wright.”

“However, especially given his confessions and plausible motives, I’m far from certain of Phoenix Wright’s innocence, and he seems to be intimately intertwined with this unfortunate saga. Since there’s no proof that he, rather than Maya Fey, actually stabbed the victim, I’m ready to go with a variation of your original charges as my verdict, Ms Von Karma. Deliberate and direct accomplice to murder for Phoenix Wright, and murder for Maya Fey.

Mia desperately flailed for what to do. If Maya had pled guilty to manslaughter, perhaps it could have been downgraded to that charge – or maybe justified self defense? There’d be a strong case Maya was acting semi-instinctively. Should they try going for this now? But that would require the attorneys –and Maya – accepting Maya’s guilt for the fatality, particularly at this late stage. How can I tell Maya that I think she might have killed our mother?


Now what? She grasped and panned every recess of her memory, trying to decide what instructions to leave Maya with – there must be some way to force a delay of her verdict on a technicality! Everything she could think of would just require her to send Phoenix straight to the gallows. Maya wouldn’t do that. If Mia continued to be channeled after the verdict, she reasoned Ms Von Karma would just arrest her anyway… she knew where Maya was ‘hiding’, and didn’t really need to explain to subordinates to force them to follow orders.


But Godot caught her eye, and winked dramatically – as much as someone wearing a mask can elicit a super-obvious wink gesture.


“HOLD IT!”


“Mr Godot! I am giving my verdict. This had better be significant.”


“I withheld information from the courts and police!”


“You mean your have committed perjury?”


“That’s right!”


“And you now want to take the stand? Very well. If this doesn’t uncover something resolute, I will hand down my verdict regardless.”


Diego gave a long and dramatic account of his efforts to ‘heroically’ protect Maya Fey from the danger of Dahlia Hawthorne, culminating in his precise and clinical stabbing of Dahlia Hawthorne, in Maya Fey’s direct defense. Of course there were no prints, he was wearing gloves. He hid behind the lantern and saw his chance when Maya Fey had passed out and dropped the knife. He didn’t get time to then edit the scene to remove evidence linking the murder to Maya, because Phoenix Wright was running towards them, so he left.


Mia pretended to be grateful and impressed by Diego’s courtroom ‘rescue’ of Maya. It was best to stroke his ego rather than make him think he’d lost face – she hardly wanted him retracting his confession. Besides, she was grateful Maya’s life had been spared. And there was the vague possibility lingering in her mind Maya really had done it by accident. You just couldn’t predict what insane lengths Diego might go to to one-up Phoenix Wright.




###


GODOT P.O.V.

Godot’s plan to curtail Dahlia fell through after Iris failed to meet him at the arranged checkpoint. He delayed slightly, waiting for her. Knowing who she was, Godot had not trusted Iris enough to share specifics over the exact ‘murderer’ and plot. He merely told Iris that a murderer was planning an assassination attempt on Maya Fey tonight. He feared Iris’ loyalty to her sister might make her fail to co-operate with him if she knew the ‘murderer’s identity.

Unknown to Godot, this backfired as Iris was then even more easily deluded by Dahlia – she still had more loyalty and trust toward her sister than the mysterious Godot [who she’d only just met] any day. Perhaps Godot was mistaken, and Pearl was the one being targeted – or perhaps Godot was part of the murder attempt on Pearl Fey? Of course it crossed her mind that Dahlia was the ‘murderer’ Godot was pursuing, but decided to help her sister over Godot, maybe he was mistaken.

Godot hadn’t planned on committing murder, but he was willing to use Iris as collateral in some sense. Her non-arrival delayed him and derailed many potential plans.

He thought Maya was safely locked in the cavern, so there’d be time to capture Dahlia.

Misty and Godot had scoped the area previously, too. Once he realised Dahlia was on the loose, pursuing Maya, and seeing her general direction, he figured either he could trap Dahlia at this dead end, or Dahlia would chase Maya to this dead end. He hid behind the lantern, waiting.

Godot didn’t have his own weapon – plans had been made, but they’d all fallen through, which he blamed on ‘Trite’.

He couldn’t bring one with him to Hazakurain with Pearl and Maya travelling with him. Maya was very suspicious of him, and he couldn’t count on her or Pearl not to ‘inspect’ his luggage through curiosity. Godot can’t drive with his vision impairment, and he didn’t want to provoke Maya’s suspicions by going in a chaffered police vehicle.

Besides, he’d already promised to Misty not to involve the Justice Department in an official capacity, so Misty could continue to conceal her identity – she’d refuse to deal with or meet him otherwise. So Godot, Maya and Pearl took the train, with its associated metal detectors – no weapons allowed.

So he was supposed to collect the weapons from Misty, or where Misty left them for him, but the entire evening he knew he was being trailed by Phoenix Wright. If Trite saw him collecting pre-arranged caches of weapons, or, say, a meat knife from the kitchen, no doubt Trite would either call police, or take things into his own dubious hands, or take some weapons for his own unsavoury ends – maybe even try to kill Godot? Godot’s overinflated imagination of the demonised Trite ran rampant with embellishment.

Godot and Misty hadn’t counted on Phoenix Wright hanging around observing them at all, and he prevented them making all the final arrangements the way they had planned. In fact, it led to divisiveness – Misty wondered if they should let Phoenix in on the plan in some limited capacity, Godot totally refusing.

All Godot’s plans had fallen through, and he mentally blamed Trite for most of this. He’d hoped to have Maya unscathed, but his vision and body aren’t so strong, and he’s not sure how to overpower Dahlia when he has no weapon and she is armed with a knife. Before he’s figured out the best way to spring on Dahlia, Maya’s already been stabbed twice.

Godot is incensed, his heroism plan has already all gone wrong. Suddenly he hears the knife drop to the ground – sees it as he lights it up in his mask. Although he didn’t see it, Maya pulling the knife out of herself did indeed have the opposite of desired effect – now there’s nothing to stem the flow of blood. The shock to her body causes her to pass unconscious after a moment, as she does so her fingers limply drop the knife.

While Godot’s vision impaired generally, his mask gives him better-than-average night vision. Dahlia is focused on Maya and her ‘vengeance’ on Mia, [Dahlia’s even taunting Mia Fey herself under her breath at this moment] and the area is very dark, the storm clouds block the moon and no lights are on.

Godot can quickly grab the knife – Dahlia’s complacent since Maya is now unconscious. He’s wearing gloves - nobody would be suspicious, because it was cold.

Before Dahlia knows what’s happening, he springs from behind the lantern and stabs her through the heart. As Dahlia falls, her body morphs back into Misty, dead.

Godot saw only the woman who ruined his life. Now suddenly he hears and sees Dahlia Hawthorne’s lover, and the man who ruined the rest of his life, and his plans tonight, Trite. There’s not enough time to rearrange the scene or anything – Godot runs away, thorough the back gate’s passage at the back of the lantern, the opposite direction from Trite. Of course he too had a key – he requested it, and received it, from Iris.

He throws the key and his bloodstained outer jacket in the river where it will never be found, quickly cleans himself with snow, crashes and rolls around in the bushes to collect dirt, sticks and leaves to obscure any blood he may have missed [he was ‘looking in the woods, obviously’] and runs around the long way to ‘find’ Trite at the scene.

He mentally assigns blame to Trite for most of tonight’s problems, Maya’s stabbing, and Misty’s death, so he himself won’t have to feel crippling guilt or responsibility.

Then Maya’s prints are found on the murder weapon – his worst nightmare is coming true – he failed to save Maya, instead MAYA will be tried and possibly executed for Misty’s murder.

And when Maya wakes up, far from seeing him as her hero for saving her like he originally fantasised, Maya is whimpering about Trite, and seems to think HE somehow saved her. Even after Godot would even commit murder to save Maya! It’s not fair, and it’s ALL TRITE’S FAULT. Even Maya’s framing for the murder is Trite’s fault. If Trite hadn’t turned up, he could have removed Maya’s prints, and maybe even thrown Misty in the river.

Since he genuinely assigns blame to Trite, rather than himself, as really responsible for Misty’s death and the whole fiasco, he can lie convincingly to police and the court. Godot sensed correctly that Phoenix had lost faith in both his own ability and the court in general’s to perform a ‘miracle’ turnabout to uncover the true crime, so he was not as nervous as he could have been that Trite would somehow uncover his guilt in court, and felt no real threat from pinning the crime on him. He guessed correctly that Trite would avoid raising anything which might shift greater blame onto Maya to save himself – his hands were effectively tied.




DAHLIA P.O.V.:

Dahlia is channelled. She assumes it’s Pearl who channelled her as planned. Misty has left a ‘letter from Pearl’ in her hand, to continue the illusion.

Dahlia recalls her scoping visit a month previously. She’s already wearing a nun robe. She goes to the supply room and puts on a Demon-Warding Hood like Iris’ to cover her hair – she senses it will be beneficial to roleplay ‘Iris’ tonight.

Her initial plan is to just unlock the cavern as Iris, and go in and stab Maya while she’s in her meditative trance. It will be simple – Maya will be oblivious, and will have her eyes closed and senses shifted in training. She’ll probably be dead before she even comes to full awareness.

But when she gets there, she can’t open the lock. Iris taught her that visiting night’s configuration – but there are a lot of them, rotated randomly. She’ll have to trick Iris into opening it for her, somehow.

So Dahlia pretends she’s looking for Pearl, who’s in danger. Dahlia is secure in the ‘knowledge’ Pearl is channelling her, thus the missing Pearl will never be found. She’s totally unaware it’s actually Misty channelling her and her deception is, in effect, true.

Dahlia wants to kill Maya Fey for her own ends, not Morgan’s – she hates their mother. She doesn’t want Iris to have to see her stab Maya – why should she ruin her useful friendship with her sister for her mother’s own selfish ends? If she’s alone, without Iris watching, she can fully enjoy and revel in her vengeance on Mia Fey and be as nasty as she likes, uninhibited.

Dahlia hated Morgan, and she’d enjoyed her visit with Iris a month previously, triggering her desire to stab Maya without Iris watching. She was still mad over the Feenie fiasco, but Iris clearly hadn’t made a move on Feenie, even though he was living right here on the mountain, so the rift wasn’t as divisive any more. Why should she risk her relationship with her sister for the sake of their bitch of a mother? Besides, dumb Iris had helpfully let her scope out the entire area on her visit. Dahlia had memorised all the geography and dead ends. Maya had never been here before, so even if there was a chase, she could easily lead her down a dead end to stab her.

By the time Dahlia was channelled it was already late – Pearl must have been delayed. At first, Dahlia thought she’d stab Maya in the cavern, but Iris would know and fall out with her or raise an alarm, so she decided to just lock her out of the way.

Dahlia could RE-lock the cavern with the trick lock Iris had shown her a month ago. It couldn’t be opened from the inside, and she knew people other than Iris and Bikini [Phoenix, Maya, Godot etc.] did not know how to unlock it.

Then it was fairly easy to track Maya down again, pose as ‘Iris’ long enough to shepherd her movements walking beside her, and chase her down a dead end.

In Morgan and Dahlia’s original plan, Pearl was to do the Special Course with Maya, and channel Dahlia during it, to make an easy kill whilst Maya was in her trance. There were problems with this plot, and it backfired entirely when Maya elected to do the Ultra Course – Pearl would never be allowed to do that. In the variation, Dahlia was to seize the opportunity to kill Maya before, during or after the training.

***

NOTES: NOT anywhere near the end of the fic!

MAYA:

Nick and I are returned to the courtroom that afternoon for our final verdict. Innocent of murder, multiple counts of perjury and contempt of court. Mostly these will be punished by a huge fine. I think the judge is feeling a little sorry for us. Also, the fiasco's attracted quite a lot of attention and the tabloids are already claiming we're 'star-crossed lovers' derailed by the 'evil Toaster Face'.

Jarring as it is, accepting Mr Godot did it was not as extreme a revelation as it might otherwise have been, I guess since the alternatives were just that hideous. I feel myself immediately numbed into sick acceptance, the way I had to after Aunt Morgan was found guilty. I still have a vague fear I'm really responsible, but it's a niggling disquiet instead of an all-consuming devastation.

The trial is over. I'm not free to go, due to the perjury charges [and someone probably noticed the jail break], but the security is less restraining.

Nick's not going to just disappear is he?

I can't just let him leave again. Not after that.

"NICK!"

The security people still escorting me cringe.

"Please! I have to see him!" They relent, I was just declared 'Not Guilty' of murder after all. They follow at a distance, like they're kind enough to give me privacy.

"Please wait," I beg.

Nick turns.

"M..Maya. Um… I'm sorry."

"I… I forgive you." I'm not mad any more. How can I be? He didn't ever betray my trust, not really. Maybe he got it wrong and thought I trusted him to save me no matter what?

"…on the condition what you said the other day was true. It was.. wasn't it?"

"Yes." I'm sure he's not lying. Nonetheless…

"You still have my Magatama? Give it to me."

His eyes are immediately wounded, but he forks it over without protest.

I've since studied up on this spirit power.

"Why did you even want me around? You wanted me there to channel!"

"No!" I can't see any locks. "I wanted you there because… I liked having you around. And you were my.. p..partner."

"But I channelled for you."

"I would've wanted you there.. even if you'd never again channelled."

No locks.

"I just couldn't let you die," he's repeating again lamely.

"I'm more mad you just disappeared without explaining," I admit.

"I'm sorry." His eyes are helpless.

I hold out my hand. He looks confused.

"I SAID I forgive you. Maybe… we can be friends?"

We linger for a moment at the connection in the pressure of both our still-clammy, sweat-drenched palms, as if reluctant to again let go.

I wish things could go back to how they were, instead of just distantly friends, but maybe they can't. Not after that kind of betrayal. But of course I realise. Would I have let him die for me? What if he had been declared guilty and executed in my place? It wasn't quite the same, but…

"You're not thinking you can become a lawyer again?' I challenge.

"Of course not! How can I…"

"Good, 'cause I'm not supporting you to do that." Grossberg springs to mind. Ew.

"You're not going back to Hazakurain are you?"

"W..well, I'm not sure what else.."

"And abandon me AGAIN?" I snap, not bothering to hide the hurt.

He's taken aback. So am I. Now he's here… I really didn't predict how desperate I would be for us to again stay together.

"Maya.. I didn't know. I thought you'd never want to see me again."

"Well, maybe I thought you just didn't care?..." Suddenly, my irritation wilts. This idiot was that desperate for me not to DIE?

"Look, what if I suggested you might come and live at Kurain?"

###

I visit the jail, Magatama in hand. I am grateful to Mr Godot for saving my life, even after what happened. He tells me not to feel bad, he deserved his punishment, and it's not my fault.

There's no psyche-locks when I query him, so it's reassuring to confirm he, not I, stabbed Mother. I still do feel bad though. But I guess there's nothing I can do. [Except vow to send coffee to the jail.]

I still don't quite understand why she stabbed me. Well, Dahlia stabbed me. Why was she channelling Dahlia? Did Mother go insane and want to kill me? This thought has haunted me since the trial end, and much as I try, I can't hide my distress.

Perhaps provoked by this, Mr Armando finally comes clean. "Morgan planned for Pearl to channel Dahlia to murder you. That was the actual plot planned in Retired Incident #633666825. I contacted your mother about the plot – the police and government still kept track of her whereabouts - and we resolved to try and prevent it. But Pearl went missing, so Misty decided she would have to channel Dahlia, to make it impossible for Pearl to do so. I guess things went wrong."

I'd pieced some of this together, but it's still a jarring revelation.

"W..why didn't anyone tell me?"

"I don't know. We thought we could just prevent the plot by stopping Pearl. Your mother thought you'd be better off not knowing. And not knowing her. She wanted to remain 'disappeared.' I guess we both paid the price. "

Though our conversation's given reassuring closure in many areas, it's slashed open some old and not-so-old wounds in others. I suppose she mistakenly thought 'disappearing' forever was the best thing she could do for me, in order for me to have the best chance at succeeding her as Master. Ruining Mother, Mr Armando, Aunt Morgan, Pearl – was my becoming the Master ever worth any of this? I'm almost grateful when the guard informs me my visiting session is now over.

Mr Armando doesn't know about Psyche Locks, so he thinks Mia will still believe he confessed only to save me and he never lost face with her. I'm not going to let Sis continue with that impression, however…

I'll tell her I'm not the murderer, but I might spare some of the rest. For Mr Armando's sake.

###

I'm pretty depressed. Someone had the courtesy to hold Mother's funeral while I was still in jail – I suppose dead bodies can't be stored forever, and the Kurain population were unimpressed when they assumed I was her murderer. All I can do is visit her grave, on the outskirts of Kurain.

If only I'd known who she was, earlier that night. Why didn't she tell me? If things had gone as planned, and the assassination plan prevented, would she have just disappeared off again? Probably. Did she think I won't want to see her? I've searched for her spirit, desperate for some kind of belated connection, but it doesn't want to be found.

I sink to the ground, trying to control the painful, spasming sobs, the futility of caking myself with mud. Because of course I did want to see her – knowing her identity. Even once.

But I guess, in the end, she did come back to me.

Someone else came back too.

###

There's a vacant traditional hut where an old Mystic died recently, so Nick takes up residence there. At first a lot of the other Kurain residents were really suspicious, since they know who he was, but Sister Bikini demanded to take a holiday here. She gossiped away to the other Mystics about what a lovely guy he was, though probably insane or retarded, so they just assume he had some kind of breakdown after the Engarde trial and really is harmless. Besides, they soon found he was good at cleaning toilets and odd chores and even babysitting, so now they seem to like him.

###

I know I'm supposed to be 'moving on', concentrating on taking over as Master, but a jarring kind of unresolution and grief lures me to creep off secretly, under the guise of other activities, to futile silent vigils at my mother's grave. I suppose it's pretty pointless, she's gone – again. I can't grieve in public – most of the Kurain residents still regard her as disgraced, and I'm not sure anyone understands why I'm grieving over somebody I effectively never even knew.

I'm in my usual position, drooped in the dust. The Master's Seal is emblazoned on the ground in front of me, a few holders for candles and incense burners at strategic locations in the emblem's dots and stylistic spirit-comets.

I don't cry any more. Whatever emotion this is, I'm past tears. There don't seem to be any left.

I sense someone cautiously come up behind me. Without turning around, I know who it is. I knew he'd figure out where I keep disappearing off to eventually.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I stare blankly into space.

I hope he's not going to tell me to 'cheer up', like people tell me in the village if I drop my act, as if that will somehow change what happened and make it okay.

But he sinks down into the dust next to me. We're silent for some minutes. We both stare at the ground.

"I still feel like it's all my fault."

"It wasn't. The real killer was proven in court."

"Not that. Everything. The whole damn Master business. Why she thought she could never come back. Why she did that and d-died. Why Aunt Morgan went insane. Why Mr Godot's life is over. Even Mia… leaving so I could be successor by default…"

"It's not your fault Maya!" He's pleading, I can tell he's searching for the right thing to say. "Sometimes some things are outside your control. How old were you when she left, two? And you never told or forced any of them to do those things. You didn't even know."

"Why couldn't I recognise her. If only I had. But she finally comes back – and her own daughter can't even tell who she is anymore. No wonder she thought she should just stay 'gone'. I search for her spirit," the weight of feelings crush me at this most shameful of secret unspeakability, "but she doesn't want me to contact her."

"Maya…" Deeply sympathetic eyes compel mine, but I don't think he knows quite what to say.

"At least I could still recognise you, I guess." I feel a wry urge to lighten Nick's now-sombre mood.

Nick drops his eyes and scuffs a random pebble. He takes a while to speak.

"I thought since you ignored my letters, you never wanted to see me again."

"Letters?"

"I send letters. Two. I.. I wrote a third.."

"I d..didn't get them. Wait. I… think I know what happened."

I don't think Godot was trying to be cruel to me. He really did seem a little crazy, and actually thought Nick was a terrible threat to me, even brainwashed himself that Mia's death was Nick's fault..

It's hopeless. So instead of replying further I break down and hug him.

Feeling his body wrap against mine in response transports me to that other scene. It was – again – the worst moment of my life, suddenly realising that was my mother – DEAD – in front of me, and not knowing why, wondering if I killed her, overwhelmed with pain, sure I was going to die myself. But again he was here. At first I thought it was just a dream, but his touch was real.

As far as I'm concerned now, there's nothing to forgive.

"How'd you like to be the Master's assistant?" I offer.

Nick looks as if he may faint.

"Oh. I forgot to give this back." I hold out the Magatama. "I trust you. Don't you dare let me down."

"I won't." More hugging. Nick's pretty eager.

"Don't crush me," I chide.

Concern flickers his face, then wilts into realisation I'm joking.

###

After all our exposure to the modern world, of course Nick and I soon decide to take an emergency trip to the nearest city to obtain things unavailable in the primitive arcanity of the village. Well we planned to. It's infuriating how slow Nick is being.

"What! I can't leave yet! I have to find something to wear…"

"Oh, just wear that monk costume or whatever it is. Hurry up."

"I thought I'd give up being a monk now. I'm sure I paid off my sins and whatever."

"Ooh, Nick, you naughty boy!"

"But Maya, you said you forgave me."

"Yeah, well, I guess I did. BUT…"

"So I guess I can forgive myself now. Because I couldn't forgive myself over losing you."

"Oh, Nick! Um.." That was unusually sweet, and I'm momentarily taken aback. "But hey," I remember, "I bet you don't have any other wearable clothes left!"

Nick sighs. I had him there. The police raided the Losers' Shack before his murder trial and took practically everything, not that there was much to take.

"I'll look like a hippie freak!"

"NICK! I wear this stuff in public ALL THE TIME. Come on. It'll be fun!"

"For you. People will stare at me and stuff…"

"..with awe and admiration!"

"Yeah, right."

###

Nick's eyes dart around furtively. "Everyone is starting at me, Maya. In fact – they're even staring at me, not you!"

"Isn't it great? Now, if you sit there and beg, maybe people will donate you money! Don't you feel like you need a burger and a coffee right now?"

"No."

"Well, I do! Use this bowl I, um, salvaged."

"Oh, fine." Nick droops forlornly on the ground, bowl shoved lopsidedly on the pavement in front of him. "Are you going to integrate some kind of marketing message about Kurain into this?"

"Oh, that's an idea! You're good at this! I'll add it to '1005 Ways To Make Money'. How about 'Visit Kurain: or FEEL THE WRATH OF AMI FEY!'"

"Very motivational."

I knew Nick would like it!

My eyes soon flit to a shop display. Steel Samurai merchandise, big screen TVs…

Standing on the street? Boring.

"I'm just going in there. You just wait right here."

When I finally come back, I'm quite awed that Nick has a pile of money. All small change, but this is more lucrative than I thought…

"Good work, Mystic Phoenix! Did you want a burger too?"

"If I don't, will you just eat mine?"

"Probably."

The server at Grease King seems nonplussed at receiving payment in 200 different coins, but they can't exactly refuse me service. A Triple Hyper Burger, a large coffee, and a Junior Burger for Nick because he's a wimp (and specifically requested 'something small'.)

###

We pay a visit to the old office. All the plaques and signs declaring it 'Wright and Co. Law Offices' have been boarded up or painted over to avoid confusion, and I was forced to sell off a lot of the higher quality internals (they were Mia's, mostly,) but Nick's eyes have still dilated with emotive terror, tiptoeing around the vicinity as if at a funeral - or haunted graveyard. Am I going to have to start holding his hand?

"Nick, um, we can go…" I feel bad bringing him here, making him so uncomfortable.

"No. I have to face what I did."

The bad air, dust and cobwebs assault us – I could never bear to visit here more than about once a month either. I mainly kept up the rent because the law firm and related files and a lot of stuff inside were Nick's too, it would be stealing to just dispose of them. And because to not do so would be accepting I should be letting go of Nick completely.

"You paid the rent all this time?"

"Well I couldn't just throw away your stuff right away. What if you came back for it?"

"I don't think I can face those f..files again." He looks so forlorn. Sure, he was a complete idiot over the Engarde case, but I have to cheer him up somehow!

"A whole lot of clients really were innocent, weren't they? Nothing you did changes those cases."

"I guess." He doesn't seem too convinced.

"Anyway, it's over now. What I was going to ask… I thought it'd be useful to have a city office for Kurain Master business, but should we use here or rent somewhere else… cheaper," I end tactfully.

"Um, I don't know. There might be some kind of negative association…"

"Would spirit channelling clients have know the location of the old, um, business though?"

"Good point. I'll, um, think about it."

"And while we're in the city, we could live here, we could convert or divide some of the rooms…"

Nick detaches a stray spider from his hair. "You're not planning on sleeping here tonight, are you?

"No way! I can't breathe!"

He morbidly returns to training his eyes on various corners and seemingly innocuous objects in the ex-office. Waiting with patience and growing tedium, I happen to glance out the window. Pitch dark, neither of us have watches and the office clocks appear to have stopped months previously. Oops.

"Come on, Nick!"

His gaze still lingers around the room forlornly, his desk evidently the half-cased mess he originally left it – with an extra years' worth of dust caked on top.

"Grab those bags – I don't wanna sleep at the train station!" I seize a few of the lighter products of today's haul- part of the needed foodstuffs, and what appears to be Nick's new wardrobe – cheap, nameless-brand tracksuits, coloured blue. I suppose I'll have to keep forcing him to wear the monk gear during channellings to evoke the right atmosphere. I have the sudden belated forethought to grab the spare lawyer suit I found in one of the cupboards – in case he has to look respectable for Master business, not for being a lawyer, of course.

###

Channelling appointments aren't a problem anymore, with Nick as my personal bodyguard. After all that, I do trust him to protect me. And maybe he did learn something at law school, because he's not too bad with some of the other weird affairs I'm supposed to handle around here.

He shows no sign of leaving, so I'm thinking of telling him to move into Fey Manor instead of that dump he lives in now. Perhaps I can gauge his interest in other ways. I think I've figured out why, after everything, I'm still so desperate to have him by my side…

###

I suddenly remember tomorrow is Valentines Day. Well, hopefully Nick will see this as an interesting gift.

But when I arrive at his little shack next morning, I'm horrified to find Trainee Mystic Mary hovering there, complete with chocolates. I lose it.

"What are you DOING? He's only ELEVEN years older than you!"

"I'm sorry, Mystic Maya, we were just showing we appreciate hi… Hey," she continues with interest, "you're really upset."

"Yes!"

"Oh. Don't tell me.. you like him that way."

"Shut up."

Too late. Nick has been attracted by the commotion. He smiles and thanks Mystic Mary for the gift, and she then leaves in a hurry [pursued by my death glare.]

"Right, Nick, get packing. You're moving."

"What?"

"You're moving out of this dump."

Nick's face falls. "N..no, Maya. I don't want to leave! What did I do? Did I.." He suddenly gets really upset.

"Huh? Ohhhh.. you thought I was telling you to leave Kurain? No, you dummy. I thought you'd like to move into the Manor with me."

Nick gapes for a second. "Chocolate?" he offers, wrenching open the box and holding it out with a disarming smile. He grins suddenly. "Getting to live with you is much better than any chocolates."

It's my turn to gape. What's he been doing, to suddenly come up with those types of lines?

Nick's eyes pan the strewn floor, then the teetering contents of his ex-shack, no doubt figuring what to pack first.

Observing I've already scoffed most of the chocolates, he reaches for one thoughtfully and delicately unwraps it. "Ah mayaswel givey'thisthn," he mumbles through a mouthful.

"What?" I snatch up the last two chocolates in a fist.

"Happy Birthday." He holds something out, freshly trawled from the chaos.

"What? It's not my bir….ooh."

It's a box set of about 10 DVDS. 'Classic Samurai Romance Greatest Hits' is emblazoned prominently on several sides.

"Oh, Nick! Thanks! …But why have a whole lot of them been torn open? Was it a seconds…?"

"Well, I thought I'd try watching a couple to see what you saw in them. I still don't get it."

"Don't worry, we'll just have to watch the rest together! I'm sure I can explain them to you…"

"Uh…. Thanks." Nick pats my arm awkwardly in response to my crushing hug.

###

PHOENIX:

Spending most of my time in Kurain means I don't have to encounter most people from my expired old identity. Larry, of all people, managed to get in contact with me. "Woo, I saw you on TV! Committing murder, you really are a hog for publicity! And signing up to be a monk – I bet girls like that! Did you meet any hot chicks? Or did they make you take a vow of chastity?"

I haven't seen Edgeworth. I can't believe I judged him so harshly for disappearing – I did practically the same thing! It would be unsurprising if he now treated me the same way. Maya tells me he's back overseas and they seem to communicate occasionally; guess he's still grateful to her for helping him out at his murder trial.

Now that I can, albeit painfully, again force myself to remember 'that'..case… he did seem to have moved to a better place in terms of whatever he thinks 'truth' and 'prosecutors' are. I'm not sure we're on the same wavelength to discuss it, not now, but I'm glad things are looking up from the 'Demon Prosecutor' thing.

Maya tries to convince me it's because of what we did – I mean, he'd be in jail as a murderer otherwise, right? I'm not sure whether or not to believe her, but I suppose there is a string of logic in it.

Any villagers I meet as I go about my daily business greet me cordially enough, though I used to sense they viewed me a little like Maya's prized pet, but gradually they've seemed to eye me with something more approaching respect – as much respect as men acquire in this type of society anyway. They've even finally begun to adhere to Maya's Master decree to term me 'Mystic Phoenix', though I do worry it's still spoken from the influence of Bikini's pet term for me, ''Brother' 'Mystic' Phoenix.

I wonder if being invited to live in the Master's home will win me any more points? My eyes spot a few already coming to gawk at the commotion from the endless loop of carting out my meagre but surprisingly cluttered belongings; apart from escaped evil possessions, not much of interest happens here once you get desensitised to the ghost thing.

I've gotten pretty used to the initial horror of Maya taking on the hybrid appearance of all kinds of myriad spirits. We do background checks and legal risk assessments before taking on channelling appointments [as much as is possible, since I lost many of my old connections.] At least, I do. Maya thinks I'm too paranoid, but I can't bear the prospect of having to hit her over the head with that hideous-looking Spirit Severing Stick, and it goes without saying we don't want anyone shooting at her again.

Pearls seems to have forgiven me over everything, which is a relief for my pain receptors.

Apparently whatever Maya or I did vaguely resembled one of her fairytale books or something – well, I don't want to know about it!

Maya was interested in 'The Magic Bottle' after everything, and we read it, but she was the only one who cried this time, poor thing. For some reason it doesn't affect me any more. Just another kiddie story. Though I admit the art is nice.

###

Fey Manor is lovely after all that straw and dirt, a shining beacon of utter luxury even when just a few short years ago it seemed distressingly arcane.

I sink into the bliss and sigh as I shove my face into the pleasant scent of fresh tatami mats and silk bedding – my new bedroom alone is larger and more tastefully equipped than my old hovel and the Loser's Shack combined. I'm even warming to the prospect of having burgers every single night again.

The walls shimmer away into expanding clear night air, perched on an eerily soft rock with Maya's assuring presence beside me. The stars spilled along the darkened sky, the aesthetic of the moon, so huge and yellow, juxtaposed with the nearby mountain, the breeze carrying the aromatic scent of pine needles (and not those irritating flowers.)

The moon swells meteor style, explodes and crashes across the landscape with a blinding light. My eyes are jarred into the excruciating brightness as I feel a familiar dragging. "NICK! It's too early for bed, how old do you think you are? You said we were going to watch a movie!"

Oh well, Maya has 'dropped by' to 'helpfully' wake me up at the crack of dawn every morning anyway (I never contested the fact she had keys to my hut; I guess she is Master of the place,) frequently tandem with a demand to accompany her to that hideous waterfall training to do me a "favour" to "toughen me up." Guess this isn't really a downgrade.

If anything, I feel more at ease since the reality interruption. Dreams aren't real.

I suppose I'm finally getting past it all. There's enough distraction to occupy mine and Maya's attention, here, anyway. It's not quite the same as the law office, but we figure out how to juggle those crazy Kurain affairs and the billion and one management issues, both internally and in contact with the outside world.

We're not ones to say it, but I can see in her eyes the renewed faith and trust in my capabilities. I thought I'd forgotten and then mentally erased everything I crammed for at Law School, but maybe I did absorb more of use than how to scream and point fingers, maybe I'm not totally incompetent with the legal thing. I guess I just bit off more than I could chew with my lofty lawyer ideas and ideals. And my life no longer seems so pointless and empty, the way it did after I threw away and ran from everything.

Before I used to think I'd let Mia down, that she was wrong to ever think I could be a lawyer like her. But I don't have the same regrets now

Sure, she was wrong about me ever being a lawyer of her calibre. But I did manage to protect Maya from the farce of the court's injustice, in the end, belatedly.

I was a delusional idiot back then. Mia opened my eyes to the truth. I know now I'm not competent enough to uncover the truth and masterfully use it for good in a court of law. But at least now I know what's worth saving. Justice isn't real, just an idealistic fantasy, the world doesn't really work that way, I can't make it do so and I'm no longer so naive.

###

Several Months Later…

PHOENIX:

The darkened sky gradually diffuses into a grey glow.

I shift in my – well, actually Maya's – silk pillow. Not too much though, since Maya is complexly intertwined around me.

I realise what woke me – my feet are numb with cold. The entirety of covers also appear to have intertwined around Maya, and being so short, she doesn't extend that far to compensate the way she does for the rest of me. As I hook my frozen toes back into some trailing material with minimal disturbance, my memory returns to the previous night, yeah, we couldn't be bothered moving, again…

Hmm, maybe we should stop doing this (I know the entertainment-starved villagers gossip, and even take bets on when the Master will suddenly produce an heir) but I admit I enjoy it too much to bother.

The actual lure of this site is the TV, imposingly consuming an entire wall. Maya insisted on its purchase after that channelling for the big-shot diplomat; we could have re-patched and upgraded all the villagers' dodgy little shacks instead, but I guess it is HER soul on the line. Besides, Maya was so thrilled by the larger-than-life Samurais, watching her elated face, I begrudgingly began to concede it was worth it.

We upgraded all the basic facilities at Kurain of course – how else could we stand living here? The 'spiritual tourism' thing has skyrocketed too.

I settle back into a blissful doze, Maya wrapped around me. If only I could remain drifting in this state all morning.. day.. year… But I can vaguely hear random birds twittering, and then a rooster crows (yes, they have chickens here) and Maya snaps awake.

"NICK!" I wince preparedly as she bounces on top of me, "WAKE UP!"

I pretend not to register.

"Ah! You're so lazy!"

Maya has delegated out most of the boring Masterish tasks (various innocuous mediums light incenses and pray for the departed and supervise most training and whatever), but she feels she has to do this waterfall training most mornings to keep her powers honed. No, erase that. She's decided WE have to do this awful waterfall training every morning to keep her powers honed.

It's not so bad, now, I guess. I don't pass out any more like I did the first few times. Maya's actually very encouraging. Which is the only reason I don't scream and run. Come to think of it, I couldn't do that either – how can I leave her alone? What if something happened?

Yeah, she's got me blackmailed…

We sit close enough to touch so I have a near unhindered view despite the obscuring veil of brutal water. As she adeptly performs her meditations and incarnations, Maya exudes the graceful presence starkly absent from most of her daily activities. It's marginally intimidating. At least until she senses me flailing, again. (Without even opening her eyes!)

"Nick, come on! It's okay," she reassures in the midst of her incarnation chant, and squeezes my hand. I focus on the pressure and retain consciousness.

"Be… forged… anew… can't… feel my body at all.." I mutter internally, through gritted teeth.

Maya, damp but pristine, eventually opens her eyes. She's finished all million chants, so it's finally over!

I suppose at least it absolves the need for a daily shower, except when I collapse in the mud and debris, which happens most days, even if only when we finish, from sheer exhaustion.

Maya seems to find the experience rejuvenating. And she's endearingly and exudingly chirpy as we trail back to Fey Manor, which does serve to enhance my poor mood. We then both spend a long time fussing over our hair, and then settle down to the warming ritual of the massive smorgasbord of breakfast Maya demands.

I've come to the conclusion that spirit powers must burn huge amounts of metabolism, which is why Maya doesn't get fat or something. Or maybe she really does have 6 stomachs along with those transforming genes? Anyway, it goes without saying food was among the first of Kurain's modern technology upgrades.

Most days, Pearls has already prepared the 'Special Someones' Favourite Breakfast' of burgers, burgers and more burgers. Thankfully, the freezing torture always has the effect of leaving me ravenous, so I'd just be happy even chewing on cardboard.

"Ooooh!" exclaims Maya through a rather inelegant mouthful, "you've made my *chew* favourites! Steak Burger and *gulp* Ramen Burger!"

Sure enough, these nasty off-white tentacle-tendrils are spilling out of the polystyrene bun. I coat them with more sauce and close my eyes before tentative sinking of my teeth. By Ami Fey, that's a salt overload!

I start choking.

Maya is alarmed. Her burger falls limply to the floor in immediate abandonment (which might be touching if I wasn't on verge of suffocation.) Hitting me on the back has little effect, so she takes me in some kind of chokehold. This works a charm.

"Sorry… can't… face…" I flail limply in the direction of 'breakfast'.

"Doesn't matter." She's all reassurance. "Anyway, we don't want you ruining your GREAT body? It's okay! I made you a nice salad!"

She eagerly rushes to the fridge, evidently she prepared it in advance!

Now is not the time to remind her I hate vegetables too. Still, the pile of wet lettuce leaves ARE calming on my throat, and Maya is so eager. She swoops down and consumes the remains of my Ramen Burger, stray slobber and all. I'm left contemplating Maya's previous comment, maybe she was taking a swipe at me?
But sarcasm isn't Maya's strongest trait, her oblivion is part of why we get on so well.

"Nick, why are you preening again? Yeah, your hair looks the way it normally does, we know."

I was? Um, oops.

"Perhaps Mr Mystic Nick is merely preparing himself for today's event, Mystic Maya?" suggests Pearls, who has wordlessly observed our entire morning altercation, hands over enamoured doe-eyes.

"Oh. Um, right." Damn, as Master's Assistant Manager I'm supposed to remember this stuff. I flail for our schedule book. "Agh! Those big shot diplomats' negotiation meeting is THIS EVENING in the city!"

"That's right, Nick! So hurry up, we have to leave soon."

I expect Maya to change into her full Master gear, which is rather imposing (though I can't help thinking it would be MORE imposing if the poor thing were a little taller.)

My wardrobe of tracksuits loom in my mind, suddenly seeming very out of place.

"Maya, what should I… Gah!"

Maya is not in her Master gear. Maya is not in her 'traditional' outfits at all. She's materialised in what is evidently her new city outfit, a simple but intriguing black number. It clings alarmingly. It shows rather a lot of skin.

I didn't even know she owned clothes like that!

By Ami, why am I staring?

"What should I wear?" I panic to Maya. "The monk junk?..."

"No! *This*!" decrees Maya emphatically.

…!

…I'm going to faint.

"No!" I protest lamely. "How did you…I thought I threw them all away!"

"You're wearing it."

Yeah. It's *gulp* one of the old blue… lawyer suits. I threw one in the river. I set fire to another…

"Don't just stand there! Or will I dress you as well?"

But Maya suddenly seems to sense my unease, and her eyes shift to genuine compassion.

"Come on, Nick. Please. You'll look fantastic. We're a team… right?"

"Right." I'm somehow reassured.

I obsess over my hair for an additional 30 minutes whilst Maya helps me set every spike in perfect placement, and the taxi arrives, and we're off!

###

I feel a creeping anticipation of trepidation to again be in the presence of 'respectable' people. I know I'm going to feel intimidated, again… Oh 'great', here they are…

I'm starkly conscious of the suit's stiff materials clinging to me, at once familiar and unfamiliar.

Don't remember 'last time', I defend with automatic superstition. Damn, And of course just mentioning it reminded me!... I sense Maya step to my side. And sense deja-vu… and not of a bad kind.

Suddenly I feel competent, even professional.

Our eyes meet, and I feel myself relax.

We fall into our latest double-act – talking up Kurain. I don't know why I was so worried, because everything seems to be going just fine. Every so often, the corner of her eye nudges mine. Take that, business heavyweights!

We snatch a few quick conspiratorial grins in between Maya putting on her 'Master' airs. Actually, Maya seems to let me talk a lot. It feels like she trusts my judgment, again, solidarity passing inherent in our gaze.

###

It's over. We escape out the door, to the discreetness of darkness and blissful fresh air.

"Well, that went well!" Maya grins at me, then explodes into laughter. And I'm laughing along with her. I do have an idea of what I found amusing, and my suspicions it's mutual are soon confirmed.

Maya exaggeratedly repeats one of her Kurain-inflating lines from earlier, then cracks up. Oh yes, we both know Kurain is really a backwater dump and Maya doesn't take the Master thing too seriously. We cling to each other with unbounded mirth. After many moments we steady.

"Thanks for coming, Nick," impresses Maya, suddenly sober.

"Oh, I didn't think I had much choice?" I begin, but she retorts "You know what I mean."

We depart toward the train station. (That taxi all the way here cost a fortune! And was for one-way, 'professional' effect, only.)

"I love how you kept pointing your finger to emphasise points!"

"Oh…" I kind of didn't notice.

Just another night. It feels uncannily like nothing ever changed. I'm half expecting Maya to drag me to our usual old burger joint, except that we ate some nasty little refreshments at the meeting.

###

It's ages 'till the train. Maya shifts uneasily next to me on the hard metal bench. Her eyes cast in the direction of the drinks machine.

"Would you like a coffee?"

"No thanks." I politely decline.

I feel Maya's head sink against me, her evidently tired eyes closing. Near-instinctively, I wrap my arms around her, to effect greater mutual comfort.

Oh Maya… Her presence is inignorable against me.
I know she puts in effort to the Master thing, and I'm far more impressed with her competence than I'd ever admit to her face, but at the same time, she doesn't take it too seriously. Which, admittedly has helped me immensely in dealing with ruining my own law career (though I'm not about to tell her!)

Her unsinkable playfulness is at once perturbing but endearing. Maybe it won't let them tear her down, force her to run away the way Misty and ….I did when we were confronted with the reality of the world's inherent injustice. We took things so seriously…

At least I hope so. I glance my eyes down. I vaguely remember all those times back in the… 'old' days, she admitted she thought Pearls should be Master. I flinch in remembrances surfacing of my own connected past. The feeling of total, total incompetence; of having failed utterly to the extent you have no choice but to leave. I admit I didn't quite get it when Maya tried to leave that first time after Edgeworth's case. Now I do.

"Maya.." I intend to continue but the feeling that surges to the fore is not one I can put into words, or really comprehend at all. Well, I should encourage her! Agh, I'm so bad at this.

"I thought you were great, tonight," I try. "Maya…?"

Maya gives a little murmur. I swear she's genuinely fallen asleep, totally secure. Her warm weight would have a soporific effect on me also, if I wasn't paranoid we'll end up missing the train. Doesn't matter. I'm just happy to observe.

After th..that trial, I felt I lost everything. My entire identity had been wrapped up in a futile illusional lie for 5 years and then erased, my life effectively over.

But I'm starting to see some essential strands of my existence and past can indeed be separated from my 'lawyer' career, it makes me feel it's not so big of a deal.

I rest my head closer to hers. I can feel her breathing. I glimpse a token star.

We're just two people against the world, and the world is unfair, and that the courts can or will make it any different is just an idealistic illusion. Sure, miracles don't exist, justice probably doesn't exist, is an imaginary ideal rather than a concrete reality of our societies. But somehow it doesn't seem to matter so much any more.

Initially after he was disbarred, Phoenix had still been prone to flights of overexcitability, nervousness, and a lack of masking his emotions. Faced with a ‘career’ built around poker games and a dangerous investigation in close association with a murderer to which he was required to remain externally calm and inscrutable, something had to be done to amass the inner strength to calm his inner turmoil, and project an impenetrable façade to the outside world.

If he hadn’t known already, the torturous experience of the Special Course was enough to convince Phoenix that his friend Maya possessed more inner strength than anyone he knew.

She was eager to help him, and so, during many of his semi-regular visits to Kurain, she would assist him in undergoing masochistic waterfall training with her.

At first Phoenix would practically collapse unconscious from the torture of the icy daggers, but over the years he built up resistance and even a masochistic affection for the brutal ritual. It was great to spend time with Maya (for which this was just a simple warm-up for her real training), and when faced with a tight spot masquerading with Kristoph, he could just retreat to the same place of inner resolve he entered while the waterfall tortuously assaulted him outside. Even when Kristoph had finally been put away, and his innocence of forgery proven in court, Phoenix had grown accustomed to the ritual.

***

Phoenix had explained to Maya that in his investigation of Kristoph’s cell, he’d seen black Psyche-Locks.

This in itself was easy to reason – normal Psyche-Locks occurred when at some subconscious level the interrogated subject felt remorse or regret over what they were hiding, and Kristoph had felt nothing but total inherent entitlement, concealing the secrets only out of spite and arrogance.

However, something about it produced a lingering unease she couldn’t quite place. The ongoing concern led her to the Kurain Master’s Library, a mass of priceless ancient esoteric texts dating back hundreds upon hundreds of years of Feys.

Again picking up ‘Secrets of the Psyche Lock’ (compiled by a Great-Great Grandmother Fey), Maya re-read the passages on ‘unbreakable locks’ and ‘use of charged Magatamas by spiritually devoid people.’

Maya was afraid she’d misread, so she rubbed her eyes and poured over the pages again. But it was explicit. “Spiritually charged Magatamas allow the spiritual-power impaired to view breakable, red Psyche-Locks, but unbreakable Locks are not visible to the spiritually untalented, one of the severe limitations of this technique. Spiritually talented women, however, can view unbreakable Psyche-Locks in a black hue.”

After a moment, Maya relievedly thought of a reasonable explanation. Maybe the charge Pearl had put on the Magatama she gave Phoenix was more powerful than the one invented by that time. Pearl was studious and dedicated, after all.

She’d better double-check to make sure.

***

Pearl’s answer was slightly disconcerting.

“No, I just put the regular charge on it, like in ‘Secrets of the Psyche Lock.’ I don’t think it’s possible to make unbreakable Locks visible to ordinary people. Unless you figured out how, Mystic Maya?”

“No... I was just asking, that’s all,” stammered Maya, gripped by intense thought.

***
Now considering his future, (Should he take the Bar Exam again? Should he do something else?), Phoenix had decided to take a lengthy trip to the relative peace of Kurain to do some soul-searching and to spend time with Maya. Although many things had changed over the years, their friendship hadn’t dimmed, and though usually his visits had an end date specified by some pressing concern to return to the city, now that his life was up in the air, he didn’t seem to have one.

Even Trucy, now 16, was gaining independence, and spent the weeks with Apollo and her newfound mother Thalassa, returning to Kurain on weekends. (Phoenix had felt obliged to tell Trucy about her mother, despite Thalassa’s protests, and though Thalassa had insisted it remain secret from Apollo, Phoenix had hinted to him that he and Trucy “might be related.”)

Besides, Maya had missed him over the years, and was repeatedly insistent he stay – Kurain was an unexciting backwater after all, and the Kurain Master position was less draining in the presence of her friend.

The other residents of Kurain –many of them old Mystics with varying levels of spiritual power – regarded Phoenix with curiosity but incredulity. Most of them hadn’t thought much of him when he was considered a forger, and even when proven innocent, they didn’t seemed to be that enamoured with him, but Phoenix assumed this was simply the typical lot of males in Kurain.

Well, a few of the residents had taken a shine to him, such as old Mystic Maudred, who had just dropped by to chat again, though Phoenix got the disturbing impression it was only under the misapprehension he was going to impregnate Maya with a female child as heir.

“I’m so sorry, Nick,” Maya had apologised the previous occasion, “it’s not you, it’s just that in Kurain tradition that’s all males are good for. They only respect people with spiritual powers, you see. I’m trying to change things, but it will take a while..”

Phoenix listened politely to Mystic Maudred, internally recalling how poor Maya had secretly admitted she never, ever wanted children at all, she was sick of the generations of intra-Clan warfare dividing cousins and siblings, and that Pearl’s future children could definitely inherit the Master position by default.

He got the feeling Maya lacked the confidence to impart this information to Mystic Maudred, however. But whilst he was thinking this, the Mystic’s incessant monologue suddenly took a turn for the interesting.

“Boys have no powers, so we don’t really have much use for them. They just eat and take up space. Why, this is hush-hush, but once Mystic Morgan had a boy! We never got to see him though, she got rid of it straight away, before she’d ever finished labour. She told me to throw it in the river, but one of the other Mystics knew the phone number of the father, so I told him to come and collect it.”

“And.. did he?” gulped Phoenix apprehensively.

“I think so. He was kind of drunk, and extremely resentful. I’m not sure what happened to him. Morgan refused to mention either of them ever again. She threatened to have me banished if I said anything.”

Pausing to glance at Phoenix, she went on, “Don’t look so shocked. Why, one of the young acolytes had a boy around the same time. Mystic Morgan made her get rid of it too. I managed to take him to the orphanage, I’m not sure if they could contact the father...” Mystic Maudred suddenly trailed off into a spiel of unrelated memories, obviously no longer enjoying the subject.

***

“Um.. Maya?” queried Phoenix as they made their way up the treacherous cliff-face path to the waterfall meditation platforms, “does Pearl have a missing half-brother?”

“No. Why?” questioned Maya, interested.

“Well, Mystic Maudred was telling me that Morgan once had a boy, but she got rid of it as soon as it was born.”

“I hope not,” sighed Maya. “But Mystic Maudred is a bit delusional sometimes. Maybe it’s just some kind of imaginary vision she had in one of her trances. I never heard of it before.” Maya paused. “Got rid of? Did she kill him?”

“Mystic Maudred said that Morgan told her to, but instead she called the father to take him away.”

“I think it’s not true. I mean, we’d have heard from him by now, right? We did find Iris and Dahlia..”

“True..” Both were lost in thought as they arrived at the waterfalls.

***

Usually Phoenix and Maya meditated side by side in solidarity, Maya devoting 90% of her powers to her mediation whilst a vague 10% kept a slight watch for potential troubles from Phoenix. (He’d come along well from the days when she’d had to devote the entirety of her attention to preventing him from passing out.)

Today, however, Maya remained on high alert, and when Phoenix had begun to enter his outwardly numbed, trace-like state, she slipped out from her position under the spray and to the rock platform an inch in front of him.

She’d decided to clear up that lingering confusion about the black Psyche-Locks. Young girls in Kurain with latent spiritual powers could be coaxed to display them with a few ‘simple’ exercises. She doubted he’d display any, but this could clear up her continued bewilderment.

“Nick?” she said aloud, projecting to his trace-like state. “Can you hear me?”

Phoenix mumbled something incoherent.

Phoenix was already clutching the Magatama, he always did so, akin to a security blanket, during waterfall training (and, had she but known it, poker games, and ‘meetings’ with Kristoph.) Ordinary people could see the charged power emanating from it as a greenish glow. Spiritually talented people like Maya could also feel it, detecting radiating power as a 6th sense. For highly trained and powerful mediums, the main issue was screening out unwanted signals to focus on those of interest, but to untrained and less talented acolytes, the key was managing to detect the signals in the first place.

“Nick..? I want you to concentrate on the Magatama for me.”

Phoenix must have heard; his fingers gripped it tighter.

“You know there’s power radiating off the Magatama. I want you to feel it. Try and pick up the signals with your mind.”

“Can’t...no spiritual power..” mumbled Phoenix objectionably.

“Since it’s charged, ordinary people can detect it too,” lied Maya. “I want you to concentrate. Try and detect the signals.”

Phoenix appeared to be trying, but only acquired an expression as though in physical pain. Maybe this was a lost cause.

Though Maya was seized with lingering remembrance that some girls in Kurain possessed the 6th sense, but could never learn to access its feedback consciously.

Maya blinked and rubbed her eyes. Was the Magatama glowing brighter, or was she just imagining things?

“Can’t..” muttered Phoenix.

“Come on, Nick!” commanded Maya determinedly, still remotely aware that no matter how much she willed something to be true, it wouldn’t make it so. She sent the sum total of her supportive thoughts in his direction, acutely aware this was not one of her spiritual powers and it will really have little effect.

But in her concentration on him, she detected something else. Was that... the weakest radiation of untrained spiritual power?

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“Concentrate on the powers coming from the Magatama. It’s like a 6th sense,” she repeated again. “You can do it! I believe in you.”

Phoenix seemed about to pass out, and Maya clasped her hand to his, ready to catch him and wake him up, furious with herself for subjecting him to this dangerous charade for her own selfish curiosity. But she froze, enraptured.

The pulsating glow of the Magatama was indeed increasing before her eyes, and the green was morphing into a blue-ish tinge...

Suddenly she noted Nick’s face had tuned a pale shade of grey.

“Nick! Nick! Wake up!” she cried frantically, grabbing him in her arms to support him and prevent his immanent smashing into the rocks as he collapsed whilst resurfacing from his trance.

Phoenix was dazed. Maya aided him in crawling out from under the tumultuous spray.

Exhausted, Phoenix closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy doze. When he awoke a few minutes later, he had no recollection whatsoever that the events of this training session were any different than usual.

***

Usually after a waterfall session, Phoenix felt exhausted and drained, but somehow rejuvenated. This time, however, he felt hideous. His head exploded in pain, he felt nauseated, and every cell of his body seemed on the verge of collapse.

“I.. kinda feel awful,” he admitted, unable to resist the temptation to collapse anew on a nearby boulder.

Maya felt horrible. Any usage of spiritual power was excessively exacting to the untrained beginner – she vaguely recalled how awful her initial sessions had been as a young child. In her own enthrallment and disbelief she had probably forced to much from him.

She perched concernedly next to him, Phoenix had taken on an alarming pallor and was shivering gently.

“I’m sorry, Maya,” he responded to her taking his hand supportively, “I guess with no powers I’m not exactly cut out for your training. I just get in the way of what you have to do.”

“Not at all!” enthused Maya desperately, fearing he’ll quit, “I like having you here. And you’re actually extremely talented at this!”

“Thanks,” muttered Phoenix disbelievingly, “but I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No. It’s true,” stated Maya firmly. “You’re unusually talented. Today, when you were in the waterfall’s trance… well, you showed you do have some kind of spiritual powers!”

Still incredulous, Phoenix vaguely wondered if it was April Fools Day or something. He cracked open his eyes, but Maya’s face was more resolutely serious than he’d ever seen it.

“I.. really think I should try giving you some beginners’ training,” she went on.

“But I thought the Kurain Channelling Technique was only possible for women?”

“It is. But there are other spiritual powers. I think you’re a member of, um, the Order of the Phoenix.”

***

Maya was secretly overjoyed by the prospect of her friend turning out to have spiritual powers. Besides, if he had the power level she suspected, the more narrow-minded residents of Kurain would be forced to stop infuriating her and finally give Phoenix the respect he deserved.

Maya usually delegated most actual training of new acolytes out to other mystics, but of course Nick became her pet personal project. The other Mystics scoffed at her, but Maya was determined. Soon ‘Mystic Phoenix’ would outrank even them in spiritual power!

Though she soon found she had to improvise with ‘Mystic Nick’ and throw the training manuals out the window. Nick’s powers seemed to be different to the usual Kurainian ones, and didn’t seem to include actually channelling spirits. Oh well. They’d both always been a bit iconoclastic.

Successfully invoking a lot of the powers was based on trial and error. For example, what was she to make of remembrances like “Maya? I once dreamed that I brought some evidence from the future into an investigation in the past.. but maybe I wasn’t dreaming?” But Maya was determined.

They hadn’t exactly found much practical application for his powers yet, but she felt it was important he got some awareness of his potential so he could decide if and how he wanted to use them. Knowing Phoenix, who, though he’d got more cynical and jaded over the years, was still a lovely guy at heart, he’d probably want to use his powers to help people or better humanity or somesuch.

***

The Kurain elders are incredulous and see the Master’s training of Phoenix as some kind of joke. Surely she is deluding herself that her 'friend' has any spiritual power. It's a waste of the Master’s attention, but she is the Master, so they can’t question her usage of time too brazenly. However two of the older Mystics resolve to discreetly observe this farce themselves, and possibly hint to the Master that this is a lost cause, based on the proof of their observations.

Maya has resolved today to test Phoenix’s progress with some kind of task. He’s been preparing for several days, meditating and fasting on one of Kurain’s remote mountains, Maya playing close attention to his wellbeing (but, of course, not fasting herself, though she’s had the tact to depart to where Phoenix can’t see as she gobbles her meals.) The elders crouch unobserved behind one of the many large boulders.

Maya is a little concerned over the task she’s set Phoenix today, she fears it’s too dangerously exacting, but his powers only seem to include a small subset of the usual Kurain talents and she’s had to choose an activity feasible from among them. He does have some other, unKurainian powers to make up for some missing, but harnessing them is the subject of mutual experimentation and they can’t be accurately tested or predicted.

Phoenix crouches in a meditatory position, and Maya removes her Magatama from around her neck and passes it to him, Phoenix’s own Magatama secured around his neck. Charging a magatama isn’t exactly a beginners’ task, but Phoenix lacks talent in many areas traditional beginner tasks come from, and he’s already demonstrated his inherent talent in this particular sphere.

Maya kneels directly behind Phoenix, placing her hands firmly and supportively on his shoulders. It’s essential that she can stop him immediately if the task is too much of a danger to his physical health. Phoenix’s powers always seem to require far more physical pain and exertion to utilise than hers or Pearl’s – she not sure if it’s because of the differing nature of his powers, the fact he is male, or both, but she assumes it’s they way he has learned to compensate for something they posses and he lacks.

Today’s task is definitely going to require pushing himself through the pain barrier, but Maya’s confidence in her friend amasses by the day.

“Ready? Okay,” signals Maya, and Phoenix closes his eyes and begins willing himself to concentrate his powers.

Maya also trains her powers – to observe the steadily building power source in Phoenix’s psyche, and the consistently vibrating, differing power source inherent in the uncharged magatama. Her sense shows her that Phoenix’s power continues to build, but then begins to flicker and falter.

“Come on, Nick! You can do it! Focus!” hisses Maya encouragingly in his ear. Phoenix’s power source flails, but then slowly begins increasing in strength once more. “That’s it! Train it into the magatama,” directs Maya.

Phoenix falters, but finally succeeds in correctly throwing the weight of power against the Magatama. It’s not quite enough, however, the power is not strong enough to overcome the barriers thrown up by the autonomy of the Magatama. “Just a little more!” encourages Maya, Phoenix somehow exerts himself to even greater extremes.

“Almost there!” encourages Maya, clutching his shoulders tightly in empathy, patently aware his pain is so strong she can practically feel it herself. “I know you can do it,” she explains as she wills him with every particle of her being, though she knows her positive thoughts will have no effect on the spiritual powers themselves.

Suddenly the power reaches a critical threshold and manages to surge and recombine with the power of the Magatama. Maya grins in exhilaration as the Magatama explodes into a gentle blueish glow. The hidden elders can’t suppress an audible gasp.

“You did it! Stop! Stop right now!” He goes limp and drops the Magatama.

She hugs him delightedly. “Congratulations! Are you okay?”

“Yeah.. I guess I’ll live.”

Maya turns to pick up the Magatama. She is taken aback to find that instead of the glow fading away as would be expected of a beginner, it’s shimmering with light as strongly as it was initially.

“You’re very, very good,” she expresses unreservedly, hanging the magatama back around her neck.

“Because I have a great teacher?”

“Well, yes... But you’re very talented as well.”

The elders slink back, overcome. Many of the Kurain mystics can’t charge a magatama.

Whatever powers this Phoenix has, they may not be typically Kurainian, but they are serious.

***

It’s boring in jail. Kristoph took adequate precautions for this possible scenario, so he bribed enough people and constructed enough forgeries in advance to ensure a luxurious stay in prison, but even with these measures, there’s still not much to do except sit, paint his nails, and think.

As Kristoph thinks, he seethes. For example, why did he not dispose of that Miles Edgeworth? Further dedicated research surely would have revealed his close ties with Wright would extend to him rigging the odious hobo into some kind of farcical jurist trial to indict him.

And why did he not further investigate the significance of the Kurain Master? He assumed she was some crazy old woman and a vague acquaintance of Wright’s, a different person to that young crazy woman about who Wright revealed nothing and had seemed irrelevant to proceedings.

But a stay in jail for somebody as omnipotent as him could not be forever. As superior among humanity, his superior intellect would surely allow him to make his deserved exit from incarceration. He would just have to use the resources at his disposal.

For example, the mail. A few bribes and a forged document had allowed him virtually unrestricted access to the post. Things got opened and censored, but a genius like him could work around that. In fact, here was the mail now, the first issue of his subscription to ‘Oh! Cult!’. Kristoph didn’t think much of the trashy magazine, but he was limited in what subscription forms made it to his cell, and he had hit upon the idea of investigating the potential of that lovely Devil on his hand. Serious research would require a more advanced publication, but maybe this would provide some leads as to direction.

What a strange publication. Kristoph wasn’t sure he believed in spirit mediums, on reflection, it had turned out that Wright probably did, which was good reason for Kristoph to be certain they were frauds. Though the ‘gossip’ section [tagline: L. Hart] was highly interesting. It waxed lyrical over how some ‘secret undercover sources’ had revealed that the highly powerful Kurain Master herself had hand-picked a male disciple, who she was grooming in all the secret techniques known only to the Master, and that this ‘pet project’ of hers was 'showing unprecedented levels of power, in strength and type never before witnessed by humankind!'

And there was a photo. It was blurry, but there was no mistaking those awful hair spikes. They may have been covered in the years he met with Kristoph, but nobody who had entered court would ever forget those hideous hair spikes.

Well, well. Looked like Wright had found another way to be a fraud.

Kristoph saved the article for future reference, and clipped out an interesting looking mail-order coupon on the facing page. It was for a book titled “Demon Possession For Beginners.” With no other sources, at least it should provide some vague amusement.

***

‘Demon Possession For Beginners’ presently arrived, and Kristoph poured over the instructions with captivation. He got quite excited when they resulted in pinkish smoke arising out of his Devil hand-mark, but all he had managed to capture was the sinister spectre of a glowingly pink butterfly. After two moments it exploded in flames, what an inherently pointless exercise, Kristoph seethed exasperatedly.

Via ‘Oh! Cult!’ and a catalogue he obtained by mail from an advertisement in it, Kristoph has obtained several objects claiming to possess ‘spiritual powers’. He’s also acquired a few more books, and as boredom sets in, he feels he should at least further explore this avenue for pursuing his goals.

In the spiritual sphere, he’s probably some kind of god, so whatever ghosts he manages to conjure up can probably easily be controlled by him to perform his every whim.

***
The Devil on his hand acquired an eerie pink glow.

“What the hell do you want?” snapped a female voice irritatedly.

“Are you a demon?” queried Kristoph politely.

“No, I’m just a cute, innocent little girl!” the pink voice corrected. “And I hope you know you’re pathetic at this. Can’t even channel properly at all. You’ll never be a spirit medium. They’ll banish you and probably kill you.. wait, you’re a male aren’t you?”

“It would appear so.”

“I only bothered to come here because of that devil mark on your hand. You’re too worthless to call me properly, you’re just lucky I was bored. So why did you waste my time calling me?”

Kristoph’s voice was as neutral as if he were discussing an unremarkable topic like the weather. “I wish to use your powers to get revenge on Phoenix Wright. Kill Miles Edgeworth. Kill Maya Fey.”

“Maya... Fey?”

The pink glow increased in intensity.

“Well... I’ll at least listen to your plans.”

***

“Okay, I want to transform into your appearance, so they will let me out of here,” Kristoph addressed the spirit through the devil mark, recalling the photos in ‘Oh! Cult!’.

“Idiot! You can’t do that! You’re incompetent with no spiritual powers!"

“Of course I have supreme powers,” countered Kristoph. “I’m channelling you.”

“Pretentious bastard! I’m doing all the work here! I can only enter the physical world by that demonic mark on your hand! I’m not actually in you!”

“But Wright can do it!” L. Hart’s latest shocking expose had claimed that the Kurain Master’s closest disciple could not only transform whilst channelling spirits, but also time-travel. There was even a ‘photo’ to prove it, an otherwise normal-looking person with that obscene spikey hair. Kristoph had envisioned being able to walk free as his body took on the appearance of this young lady.

“See this article?”

“I can’t see, due to your inferiority!”

“Wright has spiritual powers. He can channel spirits. Can’t you enter him and hijack his body?”

“Idiot. Spirit mediums are trained to not let their own psyche be hijacked.” She suddenly paused. This was pathetic Feenie they were talking about.

“Sometimes it is possible to hijack the body of those who are weak. They take precautions against this though, and the psyche always absents.”

The spirit is struck by inspiration.

“If you can also call my familiars, I may be able to force Feenie to channel me.”

***

Kristoph seemed to be under the misapprehension that it was his entitlement to make these demands of her. Really, the burden of gratitude should be laden on him – he knew nothing about spiritual powers, and she’d only bothered to go to the trouble of entering the weak signals provided by his Devil mark for her own personal amusement.

Kristoph had compiled a detailed ream of plans he arrogantly expected her to enact. Force Phoenix Wright to make a complex sequence of legal confessions, stating that both of Kristoph’s murder trails and the jurist system were all a rigged forgery, that Wright was the true murderer of Shadi Smith and Drew Misham and Kristoph a completely innocent party, and admit that he’d really forged the evidence in the Gramarye trial.

There was also a plan to kill some irrelevant individual known as ‘Miles Edgeworth’, along with various other demands.

She mentally discarded all of these, except for the one task which furthered her own selfish satisfactionary aims. ‘Kill Maya Fey.’ That was the best revenge she could still hope to get on Mia Fey, after all. She had to admit Kristoph’s plan for execution was a nice touch. Manipulate Phoenix Wright’s possessed body to begin killing her, then allow him to briefly return to conscious awareness just as he is killing her but unable to prevent himself physically completing the act. Revenge is amusing.

Maybe, after Maya Fey is dead, and she’s had adequate gratification, she’ll consider implementing his other goals, provided she’s enjoying herself.

***
Dahlia may possess no extreme spiritual talents, but she’s managed to harness a few demonic familiars which she can use to enhance her limited control over the physical realm, since Kristoph’s Devil Mark is channelling them for her.

Phoenix is asleep, and she dazedly partially awakens him by seducing some of the ghostly butterflies under his nose. Phoenix sneezes, still largely in slumber.

Dahlia wills them to flit in a hypnotic pattern of light. Due to his state of semi-wakefulness, the hypnosis succeeds satisfyingly well.

She’s not going to try totally possessing him at this time, instead she makes initial advances, willing him to wander aimlessly in semi-autonomous sleepwalk.

In the hall just outside his bedroom are displayed various ancient Fey family heirlooms. There’s a brutal-looking ceremonial katana on the wall, surely capable of inducing a fatality in the correct hands.

Phoenix hasn’t entered the correct state to allow possession to the level of using it now, but she does manage to induce him to dazedly remove it from the wall and stow it among the items he’s taking on the training expedition tomorrow.

Feenie did have some kind of spiritual capabilities, Dahlia decided, as otherwise she would have been unable to enter him at all, but the spirit channelling ones were of a childlike patheticness and defenselessness, and there was likely nothing even the best tutor on Earth could ever do about it.
***

Feenie is meditating peaceably whilst he awaits the return of Maya – the level of serenity practically makes Dahlia sick. His trance like state makes it easier to connect with spirits – or, in the case of someone without all of the right powers, easier for spirits to connect with him.

Dahlia manages to hijack her way into his body – but is immediately incensed. This wasn’t the usual system of channelling at all! There was no way to hinge her physical appearance on this travesty, and worse, his psyche had not exited but still appeared to be disabledly but blunderously present!

Well, Feenie always was pathetic. She’d just have to make do.

***
Maya has planned an intensive session, but she reconsiders immediately the instant she sees Phoenix. His eyes are somewhat vacant and unfocused, and when he speaks, it’s marginally un-natural and laboured, as if unpractised.

“Are you feeling okay? I don’t think we should train today. You should rest.” She starts back in the direction of the winding mountain path home. ‘We can watch some DVDs, and I’ll cook you some burgers..”

“No,” stammers Phoenix robotically.

More normally but extremely firmly, he reiterates “I want to train.”

“I don’t think you should..”

“Bitch!” exploded Phoenix. “Do what I say!”

Maya’s eyes flash. “What’s with you today? That’s no way to speak to the Master – and that’s no way to speak to me!”

Phoenix’s expression is unreadable, but he’s adopted similar expressions over the years. Slightly disturbed by his vacant eyes, she sighs, “Okay. We’ll do some training,” her anger desiring to punish him with a difficult exercise but her affection for her friend resolving to safeguard his wellbeing with a less taxing meditation.

She sets him to the relatively easy meditatory task and stalks behind another boulder on a faraway ledge where she doesn’t have to look at him. He wants to train, he can look after himself! It’s not very hard, so she shouldn’t have to supervise.

Nick’s so damn irritating today, she seethes. Earlier, she caught him sprinkling some weird powder on their food when he thought she couldn’t see. He claimed it was pepper, but it didn’t smell like pepper, and she’d thrown it away in disgust. Destroying perfectly good food was a crime!

Well, there was no point in wasting all day. She’d use the time to perform one of her own advanced training meditations and forget about Nick.

Soon, she was far, far away in a trance.

So when she was harshly jerked back to reality, she was pretty disoriented.

“NICK! LET GO OF ME!”

Nick just pushes her to the very edge of the nearby cliff-ledge. One movement and she’ll fall to her death. Overpowering him and escaping isn’t very likely either – while she was out of it, he’s barricaded off the entire ledge with insurmountable boulders. He’s wielding a katana, now jabbing the tip into her chest, directly in line with her heart. It draws a drop of blood.

His expression is still vacant, but inscrutable.

Despite his body being hijacked, Phoenix’s consciousness is still vaguely sentient, and he screams to himself to stop, but his body is uncontrollable, and he has absolutely no methods to fight that spirit hijacking his body. In fact, he can’t even detect that it is a spirit, he just assumes he has somehow gone insane. How can he be killing Maya? He’ll never, ever forgive himself.

Dahlia can feel Feenie’s physical resistance, but it’s easy to overpower, and barely slows her.

Every pounding moment slows as Maya surveys the scene. Nick would never do this, it’s incomprehensible, surely?

But there isn’t much time to think. Phoenix’s hand is plunging the blade into Maya’s chest, imminently to impale her heart...

“Nick, you’re possessed!” she cries in sudden realisation, lamely hoping he’ll hear her and at least know the reason for what ‘he’ has done to her.

“So I have triumphed after all, Mia Fey!” storms ‘Phoenix’, Dahlia seeing no further reason to mask the possession.

The sword is a millimetre from the fatal impalement, when suddenly Maya’s organs have moved!

In light of Maya’s imminent departure to the spirit world, connection had been close, and Mia had insisted on being channelled into her. The change in physical dimensions is enough to escape ‘Phoenix’s' clutches and fatal injury.

“I will now have my revenge, MIA FEY!” screeches Phoenix, his voice un-naturally high pitched. He’s about to stab Mia, but Maya calls her back, and the blow again misses. In the confusion, Maya knocks the katana off-balance and it plunges off the cliff.

He was obviously possessed. Maya soothed her nerves by knowing that things could be righted by hitting him with the Spirit-Severing Stick, a spiritually charged object that would send spirits hurtling back to the spirit world, provided the host was knocked unconscious. It was standard procedure in the case of unruly spirits during channellings.

Maya gritted her teach as she thwacked Phoenix over the head as hard as she could, he slumped briefly, eyes vacating further as he slid into unconsciousness.

But a moment later, his body jerked upright again. The Spirit-Severing Technique was designed to work in tandem with the Kurain Channelling Technique, and obviously Phoenix’s powers differed too substantially for it to have proper effect. The malevolent spirit was still there, and now that Phoenix’s psyche was unconscious, was finding his body even easier to control.

Seized by initiative, Maya desperately attempted to channel Dahlia out of Phoenix and into herself. Her powers were infinitely stronger than his, so hopefully it should not matter that his possession was not of the Kurain variety.

Dahlia sensed her aims, and resisted with every particle of her ectoplasma. It was difficult to channel her, because instead of replacing the psyche of the physical being, she was obscuring herself inside it. And channelling living humans was not possible.

An inautonomous low moan of agony had begun to emit from Phoenix’s body, continuing uninterrupted in the background every time ‘Phoenix’ spoke.

Maya was terrified. Phoenix simply didn’t have strong enough powers in the correct areas to safely permit a channelling (or possession). Judging by the physical price expended by powers he did posses in abundance, this ‘channelling’ was most definitely at fatal risk to his health.

***
Despite the practically insurmountable odds, Maya almost succeeds in tearing Dahlia’s spirit out of Phoenix and into herself. Dahlia is taken aback (even Misty’s powers were not capable of this feat) but rebalances herself by taunting “You know as soon as you channel me, I’ll throw you off a cliff and kill you.”

“I know!” growls Maya through gritted teeth. She doesn’t really care, all she does care about is the fact that she doubts Phoenix’s mortal body can take more than another minute of this abuse. He’s slipping ever closer to eternal exit to the spirit world.

Maya herself is beginning to weaken, her training robes weighted down by the mass of blood they are soaked in, still pouring from her chest. Dahlia’s resistance suddenly increases as, in a last ditch effort, a cloud of eerie butterfly-shaped objects collect around Phoenix.

Maya clutches her Magatama for support as she attempts once more to increase her powers. It’s still glowing from the charge, and she is momentarily confused when it causes her to view black Psyche-Locks.

On the butterflies.

Seems poor Phoenix slightly malfunctioned the exercise.

“Are you Dahlia’s familiars?” she vaguely addresses a ‘butterfly’.

Maya clutches her Magatama in a death-grip as she redirects the sum total of her powers into breaking that black Psyche-Lock.

Suddenly the Magatama sparks, and the lock smashes, the butterfly exploding into blue flames and vanishing.

Phoenix emits an un-natural scream.

Maya repeats the exercise on the 3 remaining butterflies. She’s on the verge of collapse, but though Dahlia’s resistance is now weakened, she’s still stubbornly impossible to channel.

Maya is on the verge of eternal departure to the spirit world herself, but with a last surge of effort, her powers capture Dahlia, Maya wielding the Spirit-Severing Stick in a sweeping arc destined to smash on her own head.

In the moment before she is expelled, Dahlia hurls Phoenix’s tortured body off the cliff.

In the microsecond after Dahlia enters Maya, the Spirit-Severing Stick crashes down, ejecting her back to the spirit world.

A sole spectral butterfly still flits around the Devil Mark on Kristoph’s hand.

***

“That’s a nice rose,” comments Iris. “And such a pretty butterfly! I’m sure you’re a very cultured man.”

“Quite.”

Kristoph internally curses the unwelcome visitor.

It’s that infuriating nun, Sister Iris, who, since a previous incarceration herself, likes to minister compassion to the inmates. She’s wearing some kind of weird nun outfit with a hood. Kristoph would murder her, if only he could figure out how to elude detection.

Iris was attracted by a strange presence. It had a comforting familiarity.

“You do know murder is wrong now, don’t you. I’m sure they’ll let you out soon.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to murder them if they’d had the sense not to inconvenience me, my dear...”

Iris is still eyeing the butterfly, captivated.

Kristoph is slightly nervous. Nuns might know about this demon possession garbage. He hopes she won’t object and meddle. He’s taken to wearing gloves now, the Devil mark never fades and is liable to emit a pink glow at any hour of the day or night. He’s not about to disrupt connection, Dahlia must be able to enact his plan at any time opportunity arises.

He’s very annoyed she’s made little progress, but she did significantly placate him by informing him that her actions drove Wright to attempted suicide, flinging himself off a cliff. The concept of Wright in such psychological torture as to want to kill himself is cheering, even if his attempt did fail.
***

Maya’s chest wound wasn’t that serious, she protested, and though she was supposed to stay in the hospital for a lengthy period, she checked herself out as immediately as possible and rushed to Phoenix’s bedside.

It was just lucky that Maya had the forethought to have her phone among the items she’d taken to the training session, and she’d managed to regain consciousness long enough to crawl to it and call Pearl, who had been able to mobilise Emergency Services.

Phoenix’s cliff-face plunge had thankfully been stalled by a stunted mountain bush. His physical condition had been pretty drastic, but they’d managed to expel Dahlia just before she could wreak irreparablely permanent damage. He’s stabilising, and again conscious.

“I’m so sorry Nick, it’s all my fault! You were possessed, and I was supposed to be looking after you!” Though, admittedly, she didn’t think any of the other Mystics would have been able to do anything different. Phoenix’s capabilities just seemed to defy the usual Kurain techniques. She never imagined he could be possessed so easily though, it didn’t make sense. She had a horrible suspicion Dahlia had achieved it by utilising some external power source to support herself.

***

Kristoph is viewing his surveillance tape with interest. Taking a leaf out of Wright’s book, he ‘accidentally’ dropped a tiny spy camera when he was being escorted by the guards to the prison exercise yard.

Today he’s observing the visitors, as it’s prison visiting day. His heart palpitates momentarily as he views the entry of a pair of visitors - fraudulent Wright, and that crazy Maya Fey. He hoped that Wright wouldn’t decide to visit him – that Fey woman might try to disrupt his channelling equipment.

Unfortunately it seemed their injuries were improving – Wright seemed to have a few broken bones, and the Fey woman wore a hefty bandage – but it turned out they were on their way to another inmate, who he hoped would reject their gift of a 20kg bag of luxury coffee beans.

Upon their exit, they paused, close enough to Kristoph’s cell to hear them but not where he could see them.

“You know what’s in there?”
“Um.. that was Kristoph’s cell,” they collude in hushed whispers.

“But I feel.. something’

“I don’t.”

Maya’s sure that some weak but disconcerting power is emanating within the cell. One with which she is vaguely familiar.

But maybe it’s just Morgan haunting the cell. She was kept there before her execution after all.

“Let’s go, Maya,” pleads Phoenix. "I kind of never want to see or hear Kristoph ever again.”

Maya doesn’t blame him. No sense in re-opening old wounds.

Something has to be done, though. Dahlia has attempted twice to re-possess Phoenix, though her powers seem weaker now, and she can’t possess him when he’s awake. She and Pearl have to take turns sitting with him as he sleeps, ready to fight her off at any signs of danger. They’ve spent a lot of time trying to find a charm or technique to render him unpossessable, but still haven’t made the required breakthrough.
***

Maya has resolved to investigate that eerily familiar power source in Kristoph’s cell.

Alone.

She hasn’t told Phoenix, she doesn’t want to worry him. He’d probably insist on coming with her, and she neither wants to put him in danger or force him to see Kristoph again.

She herself is scared out of her wits, but succeeds in projecting an air of outward calm.

“Well, well! What a surprise! The Kurain Master, or whatever they call you. Have you come to complain to me? Well, there’s no need. We both know it is I in the right.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could put aside our differences and have constructive reconciliatory discussion,” stalls Maya.

“What does Wright want?” demands Kristoph exasperatedly.

“Nothing. I come her solely on my own behalf.”

“Ah, my dear! Are you finally awakening to the sad truth that is Phoenix Wright?” Kristoph is delighted. Maybe Dahlia’s possessions are indeed beginning to achieve effect even among his closest acquaintances.

This is taking every atom of Maya’s self control. There’s nobody, living or dead, she hates more than Kristoph Gavin, and on countless occasions she’s fantasised about punching him in the face.

But she must ignore the temptations of this tantalising opportunity and concentrate on the one task she has risked herself for. She sets herself to detecting errant power sources, and it doesn’t take long to find it.

She attempts to keep up conversation with Kristoph as she watches the small butterfly flit in the corner of the room. Its signature vibration is disturbingly familiar.

“TAKE THAT!” she suddenly shouts, thrusting out her Magatama.

“Ho, ho, you too! Wright already tried that. It doesn’t work on me.”

But Maya was oblivious to him, her entire focus consumed with the butterfly, who was acquiring a pinkish glow. This one was far harder to break than the others, it was consuming all her resources of resolve, and she soon collapsed to the ground, shaking.

Kristoph laughs, in his arrogance believing she is still directing her ungratified effort at him.

Too late, Kristoph recalls the connection between Dahlia and the butterfly. He rapidly crushes Maya under the bookcase, and attempts to force the Magatama out of her hands. Just as he succeeds, blue sparks erupt from it, causing him to drop it in shock.

It’s too late anyway, the butterfly has imploded in blue flames, and the guards have arrived to rescue the unconscious Maya.

***

Dahlia is patently furious with Kristoph. Conveniently not mentioning the other 4 butterflies, she directs sole blame on him for allowing her power resource to be destroyed. Since she’s dead, she can’t co-opt new ones. Without her external power resource, she can no longer possess people like Phoenix. She orders him back to the drawing board.

After weeks of intensive training, research and experimentation, Maya and Pearl have finally succeeded in imbruing Phoenix’s Magatama with an additional charm which should dissuade all forms of possession. Maya knows as well as anyone that spiritual powers are a double-edged sword, and she resolves to devote more attention to helping Phoenix protect himself from, as well as utilise, the potentials of his powers.

***

It was inconceivable to Phoenix why he was moping. Maya’s been away before, he chided internally, his gaze fixated to the wall. She even said “I’ll be back in a month, just you wait!”

Unbidden, the errant thoughts churned to the surface. She wasn’t the Master before. She had less pressing matters at Kurain.

Why does it matter? retaliated Phoenix to his paranoid half. Maya has her own life to lead.

His subconscious did not appear to accept this entirely reasonable dismissal.

A distraction. Phoenix grabbed his toilet brush and mauled it around the bowl obsessively. Some explanation was in order, he surrendered.

He thought back to the years he and Maya had spent together. It didn’t take much thinking.

“I… I want to protect her,” he mused, recalling the times she’d been on trial, the murder attempts, that kidnapping… “I’m scared something will happen to her in Kurain without me there to protect her. That’s all.”

A renegade part of himself persisted that he was still lying.

“And that’s stupid. The danger from Morgan Fey is past.” The toilet internals glinted like a mirror, but regardless Phoenix unleashed a second tidal wave of cleaning liquid and scoured frenetically.

“Maya will be back in a month. That’s all.”

He decisively up-ended the toilet cleaner bottle to cascade a third assault of liquid, but the bottle was revealed to be empty. Thwarted from this delusion facilitator, Phoenix prowled the office. His rapacious gaze seized upon Mia’s law books. Mia had ‘left’, told him she had nothing more to teach him, but maybe she assumed he’d read them? Phoenix detested study and exertion [at least when the motivator of a friend on the line was absent] but he had to numb his insubordinate brain with something deflecting.

He would make himself a better lawyer and blitz the next case. Maya would be so impressed…

No, this track was defeating the purpose of the exercise. Undesired recollections poured stubbornly to the surface. Maya had been so insistent on helping him after that first trial with Morgan that she’d even attempted to read them. She hadn’t progressed very far, but she obviously lacked a law degree or.. well probably any kind of mainstream education in anything except spirit channelling and the occult.

All his education appeared to be to little avail as for the fifth time he ungratifyingly re-read the first section of the book he’d randomly grabbed. It was a while before the revelation hit that this was actually about property law, not defending ‘criminals’ at all.

He flipped to a subsequent section, but it was an unfathomable sea of greyish obfuscation. Squinting as he choked on its foam of obligatory dust, Phoenix lurched resignedly for another volume.

The print progressively daubed into indecipherable stains. Phoenix’s glazed eyelids slackened, and his now haphazard spikes ultimately drooped to the desk.

***

It was barely forty minutes before something prematurely roused him, into the unpleasant sensation of his nostrils embedded in the musty page of the law volume.

Oh. The phone was ringing.

“Hello? I’m sorry, Sir, I’m not taking cases at present. No, my assistant is away, we’re not… Look, there are other lawyers. Why don’t you try Gavin and Co., they’re nearby.” Something in the ‘potential client’s manner and insistence about his ‘little daughter’ had jarred him, though Phoenix was not consciously aware of it. He was aware, however, that his nap had not cured his pressing problem; mentioning his ‘assistant was away’ had conclusively reinvoked it.

Some TV. That would work. It was supposed to send half your brain to sleep, right?

Unfortunately, tonight’s offering proved to be a Nickel Samurai marathon. Contradictory to what could have conceivably been fatal to the series, the producers had merely capitalised on the ex-star Engarde’s murder convictions. They had rewritten a dramatic plot twist that the Nickel Samurai was actually a deception instigated by the Evil Magistrate, recently forced to trigger his true malicious identity. The change in actor and related voice was conveniently justified by the physical degradation wrought by the Magistrate’s ongoing subsumation of the Samurai’s psyche into his evil incarnation. Nickel Samurai was now exponentially more popular due to the blanket media publicity and the unanticipated plot reversal.

And as the screen glinted with the Evil Magistrate’s kidnap of some unwitting victim, there was only one thing Phoenix could think of…

He jammed his finger on the remote’s ‘OFF’ switch.

Well, back to the books.

As Phoenix’s eyes meandered over the paragraphs for the 8th time, an inconvenient truth jammed into the forefront of his consciousness.

It’s not just that I want to protect Maya. I need her, need her here with me.

What are you saying? retaliated another, exasperated segment of himself. You’re not a rookie. Your mentor said you no longer needed her.

Aware the tussle was still infuriatingly inconclusive, he continued “It’s not like you have to be together all the time. You’ve taken cases before without her here.”

There, totally rational!

“Well, one case at least….”

Doubt surged to awash away his flimsy reasonings of denial.

What was this? He was supposed to be a proficient lawyer. Maya didn’t even do any of the technical legal reasoning, he did that.

It was something else, wasn’t it.

Phoenix sighed. This was confusing. He’d never had a friend like Maya, who periodically produced such extremes of emotion in him that they even eclipsed his dedication to Edgeworth, catalyst for his adult life’s purpose and inherent meaning.

It wasn’t anything like the delusion he’d felt for ‘Dollie’, so he assumed it could not be categorised as ‘romantic interest’. Phoenix was perplexed in attempt to conceptualise or define it. It simply bore no precedents to anything which he could orient himself, so he had disregarded it out of necessity.

He consciously suppressed the issue but his subconscious churnings reiterated unabated. ‘Love’ and ‘romance’ had almost destroyed him and brought little but pain and torment. If anything, at least he and Maya were genuine. That alone had long marked it as something other than his knowledge of ‘romance.’ Even now able to put the incident in context after its recent resolution, parts of his maturity regarding romance were… languishing years behind in the past.

Well, Maya will be back in a month, he soothed himself. She’s never betrayed me before. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do to improve the legal practice.

Reassured by the security of his continued friendship with Maya, Phoenix spontaneously seized another volume. “Evidence Law,’ he mouthed to himself, finally relaxed enough to concentrate. “The presentation of evidence upon..” Phoenix’s attention was firmly embedded in his book when he was jarred out of the paragraph by the phone’s trill.

The disorientation eliminated its concept from his brain.

“Hello?” Him again. “I’m sorry, Sir, I’m not taking cases at present. My assistant is on leave and… No there are no ‘short, easy cases’, even if I am a ‘proficient lawyer’ like you say. There are other lawyers, why don’t you try… I’m sure I’m not your ‘only hope’. I’m sorry your ‘little daughter will be all alone and starve to death…’”

What was he saying? panicked Phoenix as he trailed off.

Disconcertion resurfaced.

Zak smirked. The bleeding heart lawyer had taken the bait perfectly. Now to conjure the final trap…

“Well, okay,” Phoenix found himself surrendering to ensnarement in Zak’s illusion-veiled wheedles.

“I’ll come and discuss your situation, but I am not committing to the case, understand.”

***

Mild disorientation gripped Phoenix as he stood behind the defense bench as the trial began its opening formalities. The previous night’s events were recalled only as a frenetic hyper-reality. What had happened? He couldn’t leave Zak and his poor little daughter all alone to starve. She had no other family. And he was a proficient lawyer, right?

Yes, he remembered now. He’d started feeling really confident somewhere along the line. It was after that drink (what was it, grape juice..?), no that couldn’t be it. It was because he’d won that poker game. And, well, now he was supposed to win this case. His client’s life was counting on him!

The rest of reality took on a surreal irrelevance to his frenetically surging mental processes.

***

The… the evidence was forged?

The surreality of the glowing edges of the courtroom began to impound and close in on him, surging to crush him in a brutal ache in his skull. He stood, frozen.

Gavin called a witness.

Phoenix was incapable of self-defense. His mouth could only flop open and closed like a dying fish.

Zak had disappeared.

Phoenix merely found this information confusing.

The brilliantly harsh hues began to dull, replaced with a steadily greying atmosphere and an intense nausea.

What had happened?

I am going to throw up, murmured Phoenix distantly, figuring that an illegal dash to the toilets would be better received than a soiling of the courtroom carpets.

He’d barely made it through the restroom doorway when he spewed up the contents of his digestive tract: bile, grape juice and… whatever malicious substance Zak had ‘magically’ slipped in the grape juice.

One of the bailiffs entered and briskly escorted him out. No longer assigned status of a respected lawyer, it appeared Phoenix was currently regarded with the contempt of a criminal within courtroom protocols. His little restroom incursion had been a mistake. The bailiff permitted him a paper towel, but Phoenix suspected cynically that this was to avoid the bailiff having to contact with Phoenix’s stray vomit rather than any respect for his personal dignity.

As he again stood in the courtroom, decisively flanked by bailiffs as the proceedings continued, he floundered to comprehend the revelation. The experience of finding he had presented forged evidence and its connotations was so surreal that Phoenix could barely believe it occurred.

Mercifully, things wrapped up for the session relatively swiftly. Although presenting forged evidence was a criminal offence, it was not of the severity to require immediate police detention. The court allowed him to depart, pending future summons.

***

Hazily dragging himself home, he partially expects to awake from slumber to find his headache cured and that the events of the trial didn’t really happen. But when he awakes fretfully a few hours later, the headache has merely increased in intensity and an extraordinary meeting of the Bar Association Review Board is imminently occurring.

Upon their verdict, all Phoenix can manage to do is stumble blindly out and collapse in a vacant corner. He can’t move, can’t amass the energy to sit up from his sprawled droop. Staring unseeingly into the wall, he vaguely desires that the Earth will swallow him up, that reality will cease to exist, that somehow this isn’t true.

After several hours of this, his pained limbs resurface him into some kind of mental coherence. Rationality pours forth to a last-ditch attempt to avert the disintegration of what so much of his adult life has revolved around. He’d been in disasters before. He should just solve this one the same way, by an investigation. He clings to this one hope. Somehow this wasn’t true, he didn’t forge evidence, so he would merely find the answers and avert this nightmare. Knowledge that if he doesn’t move now he may never amass the will to do so again and a last ditch desperation of denial sends a surge of adrenalin through his limbs.

He runs around in a frenzy, attempting to investigate Zak’s disappearance and the crime. But soon he reaches the limits of what he can do, and loses both the temporal distraction from his situation and the hope that he can miraculously avert this disaster with the real truth.

He continued roaming the streets, desperate to keep doing something, now devoid of direction, vaguely hoping his feet will carry him away from the nightmare situation. But instead it travels with him, increasingly subsuming and asphyxiating him. So many of the bearings by which he’d set his life had collapsed without warning.

But eventually sheer exhaustion overtakes him, and he drags himself back to the office and collapses on the couch.

Even when he awakes again, the futility renders him incapable of movement. His entire adult identity has somehow been built around the empowerment tied with being a defense attorney. He can barely comprehend what he’s supposed to do now in life without it. Going through the motions seems pointless – for what purpose, exactly?

His phone rings several times, plummeting into his murky daze, but Phoenix can’t amass the will to pick up. He can’t help his friends any more, and he can’t expect them to keep supporting him or even to believe him. Associating with him would just unfairly tarnish their reputations anyway – and this mistake was nobody’s fault but his own. Sure, he didn’t forge the evidence – but he was stupid enough to present it. He had no-one to blame for the situation but himself.

Overwhelming guilt at tarnishing Edgeworth’s image, at betraying the legacy of Mia and the future hopes of Maya were literally too painful to deal with at this time, and he descended again into the trackless paralysis of futility.

***

Maya had applied herself to her tasks with fervour. There were so many details to arrange as incoming Kurain Master! Well, okay, she wasn’t officially Master yet, they had to have that Initiation Ceremony, but that was required to occur on some specific date associated to the alignment of the stars, planets and spiritual radiation of the current year.

In terms of administrative affairs, however, that burden had passed to her as soon as her mother’s soul departed.

Maya was currently attempting to compose a list of initial fundamental reforms she would instigate as Master. Whilst some were obvious and straightforward [Install satellite dish to receive maximum TV channels.] [Arrange regular delivery of modern foodstuffs], some were more dubious [Install security cameras in Channelling Chamber. Will it interfere with spirits???] and still others likely to be met with dogged resistance. They were big on ‘tradition’ here. Maya was sick of ‘tradition’.

She was reiterating this to herself when her phone rang.

“Maya? Can you tell me what happened with Wright?”

“Mr Edgeworth!” Dispensing with polite opening formalities was noticeably unlike him. “What… something ‘happened’…?”

“I wish to hear the full story and Wright’s perspective before passing judgment. What really occurred at the trial?”

“Trial? Um…” He couldn’t still mean State vs Iris, so that meant…

From the tone of Edgeworth’s questioning, a subconscious trepidation gripped her.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been in Kurain,” explained Maya.

“Oh curses, I thought you were with him! You.. haven’t heard?”

Maya’s heart lurched into her throat. “No…”

“Ahem”, coughed Edgeworth awkwardly. “Well, there’s quite the media inflation. Conversely, it’s on the front page of today’s newspaper. All spin and embellishment I expect..”

The daily newspaper was one ‘technological advancement’ which had made it to Kurain. Maya pawed for and unfurled it.

“Recall they also refer to me as the ‘Demon Prosecutor’” pre-empted Edgeworth tenuously.

“Wh.. what?” stammered Maya. “Nick wouldn’t ‘commission a forgery’. He can’t even afford it!”

“Ahem”, coughed Edgeworth again, embarrassed both at the tactlessness of discussing his friend’s financial situation and at divulging his deep affection for Wright. “From examining the resources that I have been able to obtain, it is suspicious Prosecutor Gavin was able to so rapidly summon that ‘special witness’.”

“Right. Um, have you talked to Nick?” enquired Maya absently. A headache was slowly overwhelming her.

“Well, no. That, incidentally, is partially why I contacted you,” admitted Edgeworth. “He doesn’t appear to be taking my calls.”

“I’ll.. try ringing him.” Of course. It sounded so empty. Why was she in Kurain…?

“Call me back after. Please,” expressed Edgeworth.

“I will.” After rapid parting formalities, Maya jabbed Nick’s entry on her mobile.

Endless dialtone. After myriad repeats of ‘redial’, Maya figured she’d try Edgeworth again. At least he had more information than she did.

“He.. doesn’t seem to be answering,” confessed Maya tentatively.

Edgeworth muttered something under his breath.

“M… maybe the police locked him up?” guessed Maya, struck with inspiration.

“I have already confirmed Wright is not in police detention,” explained Edgeworth. “I expect he is keeping a low profile. Or..” Edgeworth did not wish to impart with references to his own ‘revelation he presented forged evidence’ responses.

Maya, however, instinctively sensed to what he alluded.

“I am stuck in Europe at present. I expect that you have pressing priorities in Kurain.”

“No,” countered Maya, mental bounds to her Master duties immediately dissolving, “I’ll go and speak to him now. In person.”

“Good," breathed Edgeworth, momentarily slipping his facade of 'emotional detachment'.

“I’ll call you after I’ve talked to him,” continued Maya as she decisively tore the newspaper article to shreds.

She haphazardly flung a few random items into a suitcase and charged for the train station, her phone on continuous redial.

***


Nick’s apartment was closer to the station, so she tried there first.

Locked, silent. Abandoned. She hoped he wasn’t inside.

That left the office. If he wasn’t there, she wouldn’t begin to know where to look.

She knocked first. “Nick..?”

No reply.

The door was locked, but she had her key.

The last stray beams of greying light poured through the windows and fell on a despondent figure collapsed on the couch.

“Oh Nick...”

His eyes chilled her with their glazed, vacant expression; too much reminiscent of those of Mia and her mother after they had died.

Maya knelt beside him and took his hand..

He shifted slightly, as if he registered her touch, but his eyes did not meet hers.

“Tell me what happened.”

He did not respond.

“Nick, please. I’ll believe what you say. I don’t believe them”.

“I.. I didn’t know.” croaked Phoenix. “I really didn’t know.”

Maya had to believe him. She believed in him, just as all those times he’d believed in her.

***


“He didn’t do it,” explained Maya to the anticipatory Edgeworth. “I mean, he didn’t know.”

It had taken several days to get a coherent recollection of events from Nick. He’d spent long hours staring into space, seemingly lacking the will to do much at all. Maya had brought him water and reassurance and waited [he always refused food], and he was finally coming round.

“Some kid he never saw before gave it to him, and she turned out to be the client’s daughter and well..”

“Our poor beleaguered Wright walked straight into a trap?”

“I guess,” sighed Maya.

“Stupid and irresponsible, but not worth career and reputation annihilation,” murmured Edgeworth, more to himself. He took a breath. “Listen, Ms Fey, this is highly confidential information. I don’t want you telling Wright. I will try to resolve Wright’s situation, but I’m currently constrained from much influence in the District Justice Department.”

“Oh..?”

“It seems someone [a certain Prosecutor Gavin], was alerted to my recent day of unlicensed criminal defense and has instigated an enquiry. If Wright finds out he’ll blame himself. He’s got enough on his plate now as it is.”

Worst conceivable timing, fumed Edgeworth. He had planned to lie low overseas and indirectly exert his influence to diffuse the ‘Day 1 State vs Iris’ matter. He did not tell Maya of his fears of a worst case scenario – the court proceedings somehow being ruled invalid, a re-trial, forcing Maya to again testify about what must have been one of the most scarring incidents you could inflict on someone. Edgeworth well recalled how having his parent being murdered before his eyes had rendered nightmares for years – and he didn’t even see the moment of death properly. Hopefully, Mr Armando’s existing confession had already conclusively proven the verdict even with involved ‘defense corruption’, but with the recent ‘reforms’ of new Prosecutor Gavin, you could never tell.

Franziska had given him 2nd-hand information that Prosecutor Gavin took and followed instructions from some undefinable third-party, but it was probably gossip.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

One thing was apparent. The requirement to ‘pull strings’ on Wright's behalf had conspired at a thoroughly inconvenient time.

***


“I don’t CARE what you think of him!” snapped Maya.

“Oh.. oh Nick, I didn’t know you were there, I..”

Tactful continuation failed her.

Well of course he was likely to materialise behind her in his own office. She should make more effort to conduct her communications in private.

It was difficult though, various Kurain heavyweights called her regularly, with demands on her return date and severe censure of her current choice of company.

Maya had arranged some flimsy excuse about her activities being related to the Justice Department’s State vs Iris follow-up enquiry, but she knew they knew, really. They labelled her late night train flit as an irresponsible ‘abandonment of her Master duties’.

“Are you abdicating like your mother?” one taunted.

Of course, many powerbrokers on the national Kurain Technique boards were perfectly nice, reasonable, people. Morgan, however, had installed various loud, hostile individuals in pivotal positions, and it would take far more than a month to demote or diffuse them.

When around two weeks had passed, a few of these particular individuals proceeded to make threats. Since Maya was not officially initiated, there was still time to vote that she be given official sanctions as having ‘abdicated’ and voted unfit to be Master.

Maya knew these were empty threats [such a ruling would never pass with the required majority], but unfortunately these unpleasant heavyweights had instead gone to intimidate Pearl with the premise.

Pearl forced to suffer because of her? She could not allow it to occur. Pearl was her responsibility. How dare they!

Nick was her responsibility too.

But her job as Wright and Co. Assistant General Manager was most officially over. They’d packed up the case files and officially closed the ‘Legal’ practice.

Things were really bad. Edgeworth had told her. It might be years before Nick’s name was cleared. Two or 3, even. There’d been no opportunity for him to successfully get an enquiry called on the diary page while the State vs Iris enquiry was still going on. Any requests for one had been rejected as irrelevant and a drain on resources.

They hadn’t told Nick, but he seemed to know. “I can’t afford to keep renting this,” Phoenix admitted, indicating the office. Mia’s original practice had performed well, and it wasn’t in too bad a part of town.

“You forgot the ‘Co.’ part of ‘Wright and Co.” sighed Maya.

Being a medium hadn’t been very lucrative since DL-6, but things were picking up, and there was absolutely no way she could just disappear back to Kurain and leave Nick unemployed and in the lurch.

“I’ll pay the rent until you become a lawyer again.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I… I can’t just let you throw away Mia’s old practice,” she reasoned, attempting to justify her generosity. “I mean, then later we have to open with a new address. What a pain!”

“Right, I have to get back to Kurain,” continued Maya, sighing the information she’d wanted to delay. “If you’re evicted from your apartment, you can sleep here!”

“I can look after mysel… thanks,” sighed Phoenix, ceasing to care lately that Maya was patronising him. Security that there was no way he could become homeless during his indefinite period of unemployment was cheering.

“I have to get back to Pearl,” chattered Maya, attempting to dissolve a sudden lump in her throat. “I’m probably going to officially become her guardian.” She grinned teasingly. “Looks like I’ll be a ‘parent’ before you!”

Phoenix managed a weak laugh.

***


“Nick? Do you want to come to my Kurain Master Initiation Ceremony? It’s really important.”

Phoenix sighed wearily, and paused to attempt tactful arrangement of his words.

“I’d like to, but won’t that make things, well, really difficult for you? There’s all that stigma they have about me..”

Maya had politely attempted to buffer him from the Kurain residents' highly negative opinions of him, but Phoenix hadn’t won his cases by being blind.

And Maya knew that he was all too aware. It was awkward. Even the nicest and most well-meaning Kurain residents thought he was a fraud, and some actually pitied ‘poor little Maya’ for being ‘corrupted’ by his influence and ‘taken advantage of in her times of weakness and need.’

No point wasting time on empty denials when they both knew the truth. “Well, I understand. But I couldn’t not invite you.”

“And there’s probably some rule against me attending anyway..?” Phoenix was familiar with the theory of previous precedents.

“Well, the tradition is that only ‘qualified mediums’ attend, but rules are made to be broken..”

“I think it’s better for you to play it safe as your opening act, though?”

“I agree. I have another request though. This one.. I really insist”

Her seriousness caused Phoenix to straighten in attention.

“The day before the initiation, there’s another Master ritual.”

“And won’t that be the same?

“No. That ceremony only has one other person.”

“…?’

“Please.”

“I’ll come.” He had a ‘job interview’ that day, but he’d cancel. “I’ll come.”

***

Phoenix was grateful that his arrival at Kurain was cloaked by cover of night.

Maya, who’d met him at the train station, reassured his cautious demeanour “If anyone complains about you, they’re answering to me, right?”

“When does this ‘ritual’ start?” enquired Phoenix as they slipped through Fey Manor’s doorway. “Is it even real or…”

“Of course it’s real!” corrected Maya, momentarily hurt.

“Hi Pearls,” greeted Phoenix as the small medium materialised to meet Maya.

“Oooh! You chose Mr Nick!” breathed Pearl, visibly awed.

“Maya… why is Pearls looking at me like that?” queried Phoenix uneasily.

“Oh.. she’s always like that. Don’t worry, it’s nothing sinister. It’s called the Kurain Master Vigil Ceremony. It lasts for 24 hours, from sunrise till sunrise, just before the initiation ceremony.” She gestured dramatically. “You just sit on the cliff of this mountain which is supposed to be Ami Fey’s resting place and meditate and stuff.”

“Well, okaaay… wait, wasn’t that urn Ami Fey’s resting place?”

“Yeah, well, there are always many variations on the same myth…”

“We meditate and stuff? What ‘stuff’?”

“Well, we’re supposed to be crushed under spiritual boulders, but I’m sure Ami Fey won’t notice if you skip that part.”

“…”

“And you chose Mr Nick!” piped up Pearl again.

“Well, it’s traditional that the future Master takes a trusted acolyte.. er.. person… to accompany them on their pre-Master vigil…”

“As their ‘soul’ mate!” interjected Pearl. “It means their spirits will meet again in the afterlife.”

“Shut up, Pearly, that's just a stupid superstition. It’s not true!” protested the steadily reddening Maya.

Busted.

“So romantic! ‘Soul’ mates for eternity!” Pearl had never been so jubilant.

Now Phoenix’s gaze flitted awkwardly too.

“Um, let’s take a walk outside,” suggested Maya as she firmly dragged his arm. “Don’t listen to Pearly. It’s just some dumb old legend.”

“Most trusted ‘acolyte’?”

“Yeah, yeah. A ‘contradiction’.” Maya’s expression changed and she caught herself. “Sorry.”

“But you did finish that ‘Special Course’,” she then recalled. “Maybe that passes you as ‘qualified’. They didn’t have the official Kurain Acolyte Certification exams back in Ami Fey’s time. But I can give you a rigged certification now, if you’re scared about illegality.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take me chances with the wrath of Ami Fey myself,” elected Phoenix.

***

Phoenix shifted awkwardly in his borrowed training robes. [Were men even supposed to wear these things?] Despite his unease, thus far the Kurain Master Vigil was proving to be a far more pleasant exercise than the brutal Special Course. He didn’t even have to freeze on ice or under waterfalls. The only one being subjected to harsh spiritual tests was Maya. Well, yeah, he was kind of worried about that, but surely the ‘vigil’ wasn’t designed to kill the Master before the ‘initiation’.

The setting was fairly pleasant too. The ceremony was held in a cave on a cliff, with ancient magatama-shaped holes carved out of the rock, portal to mountain scenery. Also present in the cave was another of those giant Magatamas, even larger than the one at Hazakurain, supposedly radiating spiritual power.

Luminous magatama-shaped highlights chinked the spiritual boulders Maya directed him to pile in imposing formation atop her. They towered practically to the ceiling.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” he panicked, concernedly.

“Well yeah, that’s half the point,” explained Maya.

“Are we supposed to talk?” he enquired.

“Well, not exactly. We’re supposed to only meditate and chant.” She lifted out a hefty ancient scroll she’d been carrying. “Can you read archaic Japanese?”

“No.”

“Damn. Well, I’ll chant alone.”

Phoenix crouched in a meditatory position directly next to her, clutching his Magatama. He divided his attention between both meditating and also cautiously monitoring the towering stack of stones, paranoid of an impending potential avalanche. The last thing either needed was a ‘rocks fall, everyone dies’ moment.

He also monitored Maya, of course, but her voice continued unwavering through the million or so words of what he assumed was some massive prayer or incarnation to Ami Fey.

After the day and most of the night had passed, Maya had finally completed chanting the contents of her scroll. She indicated to the relieved Phoenix to free her from her granite and jade oppressors.

Her back was bleeding, Phoenix noted to his consternation, but Maya appeared to consider this irrelevant. ‘Now we just wait for the sun to rise,” she directed quietly.

They sat in silence.

Phoenix attempted to peer out of the rock-holes to the surrounding scenery, but it was still too dim to observe anything. Instead his gaze drifted to something far more compelling. She was staring at him too, eyes dark and wide with something indefinable.

Maya moved as if to speak, but her lips fell open only to impart silence. Phoenix fixated her expectantly, but she could only continue to stare at him. Phoenix himself was inspired in some intrinsic feeling he felt compelled to communicate aloud, but as he flailed for words, none came. He couldn’t even transcribe sense of his emotions himself.

Some mutual feeling shifted between them, but its exact translation neither could comprehend. As the pupils of their mesmerisation began to reflect the spark of sunrise, the pair were forced to stagger to their feet and leave without the benefit of explanation.

“Ah Nick.. some of the elders are coming,” alluded Maya, placing a hand protectively on his arm. They were not possible to evade. There was only one functional route down from the mountain.

Phoenix nervously observed the Elders’ reactions to his discovery as the controversial choice of vigil partner. Some jolted visibly with shock and seethed, others appeared resigned and uncongenial but unconcerned, a few bit their tongue as if longing to pass complaint but constraining what may be a politically unastute move just before the Master’s official inauguration. Phoenix was jarred that a few greeted him with obviously-feigned goodwill.

“Master Fey, we must depart,” directed the Chief Elder as a cluster of high-ranking Kurain mediums flanked her on all sides. Maya nodded, and did not speak to Phoenix, but trained her eyes back intensely into his direction as she retreated, until the Elders jostled around her and obscured her from view. Distracted, Phoenix only now became aware that the Assistant Chief Elder had materialised beside him.

“Mr Wright.” She gave a disarming smile. “I was instructed to pass on a message from the Master.”

“Fr..From Maya?”

If the elder suffered the subconscious urge to correct this to ‘Mystic Maya’ she well suppressed it. “Yes, the Master is grateful for your assistance in the past, but she does not think it best to associate with you in future. She did not wish to tell you to your face, as she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. This was her gesture of parting blessing, if you will.”

“I don’t believe you,” hissed Phoenix.

Most of the Kurain Elders and powerbrokers were not intrinsically unpleasant or malicious people, and much of their intense hostility toward Phoenix, Maya and the legal world had its origins in fear and intimidation.

State law had never been parallel or necessarily compatible with traditional laws and concepts of justice. Some of Morgan’s key players still were of the opinion that Morgan’s attempts against Maya were not criminal, but honourable and justifiable, as protecting the future of the Kurain Technique by ensuring a viable Master was a far more laudable aim, even if it meant the ‘sacrifice’ of one individual. The ‘best interest’ of the Kurain future took priority. Even those who thought Morgan’s methods had been wrong were still paranoid and suspicious of official legal meddling.

Morgan had capitalised on DL-6 by cultivating and inflating the fear and resentment of the law its destruction of Kurain’s reputation caused, inflaming the inferno of paranoia and animosity against both the legal world and the disgraced Misty, who had betrayed them all by becoming ensnared in its sinister tendrils and subsequently causing both her own implosion and their near-destruction.

Such chaos and panic had been a perfect atmosphere for Morgan to seize and exert control. Mia had already been lost to the legal world’s ‘corruptive influence’ but she had never been a viable candidate anyway – brought up by and too much likely to be like her mother. ‘Law’ was purported as a sinister threat which had caused all their problems. Morgan could save them and salvage a future of reorder.

Due to this mistrust of legal matters, Phoenix had been viewed with suspicion even before his downfall. His associations with Maya were regarded as meddling in Kurain affairs and a dangerous, corruptive influence. Now, of course, they all believed he had constructed forgeries for his other cases too, including the three trials involving Maya. None of them believed Maya had really committed the murders (there was no motivation to kill Mia, as she had already abdicated her right to the Master position) but Maya was conclusively viewed as a troublemaker.

Morgan had taken responsibility for Maya’s Master preparation education; even Mia took for granted she had Maya’s best interests at heart. Morgan had assured her [handpicked, unwittingly manipulated] Chief Elders that her control of Maya’s upbringing since such a formative age would reduce the risk of a repeat of Misty resurfacing in her, and little scrutiny was applied to the magnitude of powers delegated out to her in this regard. A viable future Master was integral.

Although Maya had been adequately trained in spirit channelling, Morgan had not bothered to train her in Kurain powerplays, diplomacy, politics, or any of the other arenas which might better allow Maya to wield autonomous power. Even before Pearl’s formidable talents miraculously surfaced, Morgan had intended to puppet Master Maya to her own whims as much as discreetly feasible. Her disappearance off to the city had been infuriating, particularly as she was gaining empowerment in that sinister trickery which could eclipse the authority of tradition [and which Morgan secretly feared and resented] – law.

But even before Mia’s death, Maya had shown risks of being insubordinate and uncontrollable. Morgan had committed to Pearl’s installation as Master [now her powers had proven it possible] by this point anyway. Killing or framing Maya just as her first flails as an adult met with failure had held a palatably delicious symbolism.

***

Maya turned up at Phoenix’s a week later, still ruing her experience in the cave. If only she could tell him how she felt, but the words never came out, something incoherent and stupid always did instead, and even in her head she couldn’t express exactly what was between them. Couldn’t admit what he meant to her, doubted he felt the same.

The intense.. relief? she saw flash in his eyes confused her, and the distraction caused her to spill her words without thinking.

“Hey Nick, that’s my magatama, remember? I need it for something.”

That was crass. Nick startled slightly, and looked briefly forlorn, but then a resignated understanding gripped his features and he forked it over without dissent.

No, that’s not what I meant at all! fumed Maya, exasperated at herself. He thinks I mean he doesn’t need it any more now he’s not a lawyer and I’m not his assistant manager.

She had been shy of expressing her true intentions; to utilise her newfound authority as Kurain Master to put a stronger charm on it for his protection.

“I’ll give it back after,” reassured Maya. Phoenix appeared bemused.

Sure enough, she reappeared at his doorway next evening. Phoenix agreed to her pleas to accompany her to the station for her impending departure.

As they reached the station entrance, she stopped, and pulled something out of her pocket.

“I said I’d give it back.” Phoenix momentarily froze as an uncharacteristic steely seriousness flared her eyes. “As Master of Kurain I officially bequeath this to you. There you go, Nick,” she continued, returning to her usual ambivalence, “it’s yours! Happy?” The smile did not meet her eyes. They were both starkly conscious of the impending parting hanging in the air; a cavernous haze of indeterminate and unforeseeable length and magnitude.

“You can always come and live in Kurain, you know. The invitation’s still open. Always.” They both knew it was an empty proposal. Of course Maya wanted Phoenix to live with her… but the open hostility of some of the Kurain powerbrokers would make life unpleasant for both of them, and there was nothing for him or Trucy in Kurain. Heck, Maya wished she could escape herself, and she was Master of the place.

“Come and visit,” she amended. It was a plea, not merely an offer.

“I will.” Phoenix paused, flailed, trailed off, unable to assemble what to say.

“I’ll come again… soon..” trailed Maya as she was forced to board her arriving train.

“He’s going to investigate that case,” intuited Maya, stomach churning, as the train sped for Kurain. “I should be going with him. If only I was going with him.”

But she was out of excuses to stay out of Kurain. The excuse of ‘General Manager of ex Fey and Co.’ was no longer applicable, either to the Elders or to Nick.

Their initial bonding and official partnership, now dissolved, had been about Mia. But Maya knew it had ceased to be anything about her being able to channel Mia after that case with Aunt Morgan… no, before that, that case with Mr Edgeworth. Mia had just been a cover to delude each other that was why they needed to stay together, but neither had believed it after that. And well, Maya didn’t exactly have a background legal education…

It was futile. Wright and Co. Law Offices was over. Maya could sense by the dead look in Nick’s eyes that it would be a long time, probably eternity, before it reopened. Something had broken in him, she could tell. Those sad eyes. And why wasn’t she still with him, to try to make things better when he needed her most?

Because she was out of ‘excuses’.

Maya set herself to a Master-level spiritual training ordeal, willing the flagellation of the waterfall’s icy daggers to numb her into oblivion.

Maya didn’t blame her mother for abandoning her. Her mother apparently thought she was doing the best thing for her daughters; not transferring the mantle of shame and dishonour down as an inheritance. Though, in reality, Aunt Morgan had never really allowed Maya to forget it, and in Misty’s absence she’d wielded significant influence, as the Master’s sister, even with her lack of spiritual powers.

As Maya was discovering, as soon as Misty left she stacked the Kurain decision boards with participants sympathetic to her aims, and manipulated the power structures into ‘reforms’ taking decisive influence away from the Master and into the hands of the boards of Elders across the country, hastily rubber-stamping them ‘for’ the Master in her absentia. Morgan had lied that she’d had inside information that Misty would imminently resurface and this was just temporary ‘emergency measures’ to enable damage control in the meantime. Amid such panic, everyone believed her. By the time it was entirely clear Misty was never coming back, the new order was already conclusively embedded.

Maya knew that Morgan had been lying. Mia had told her that Morgan had insisted to Mia from day 1 that Misty would actually never return.

The hostile elder power blocs made little to no attempt to disguise their attitude to the new Master. ‘You don’t have our respect, and we’re judging you on the basis of your past associations and ‘crimes’. What’s more, the stigma of Misty and her disgrace still lingers on you. Are you going to fold like her? If you can’t fulfill your duty adequately, the best thing you too can do is crawl away and die!’

“No…” Maya firmly objected to herself, retreating to her 3am meditation and incense ceremony for departed spirits. She’d stacked her schedule with tasks at odd hours to distract herself from the reality she couldn’t sleep, was gripped with insomnia and fraught with repeating nightmares fracturing when she did doze off. This gave the illusion of control, that she took several short naps of an hour or two by choice.

Meticulously she lit the candles, arranging the small photos of her mother and Mia and willing their peace and fulfillment in the afterlife. Mia was more distant now, the unfinished business tying her closer to the mortal plane resolved. Initiating contact required greater exertion than previously, and it was considered poor form to disturb such distant spirits without an urgent reason. That they were a pathetic, scared little sister who couldn’t look after themself already was not considered valid urgency criteria.

Her mother was more distant still; Maya couldn’t even precursively pinpoint her location. It was abundantly clear she did not wish to involve herself in Maya’s affairs, exactly as it had been on Earth. Is she still ashamed? pained Maya. Does she still think she doesn’t have the right to face me?

She would never know her mother.

There was somebody else she thought of, of course, as she prayed for the departed. It made her sick she included him in the same mental category. Nick was alive. She’d gone to visit him just last month. Oh, she’d asked him to come here, but he’d muttered something about letting the other Kurain officials cool down for a while over him.

“I don’t care what they think of you!” Maya had reaffirmed. “I know what I think of you.”

“But I care what they think about you,” Phoenix had retaliated quietly. His expression had disturbed her, enough that somehow she couldn’t tell him it was too late for that, she had constantly made everyone aware that her opinions on and solicitations with Phoenix Wright were one area where there would be absolutely no compromise, but had to gulp the urge to cry instead. It was her mother all over again – publically shamed over a lie, ‘not having the right to face or associate with her’. Are you going to disappear too? a far younger incarnation of herself spontaneously panicked. Her mother, Mia, Nick.. the three people who exerted most fundamental influence on her life, all taken from her without warning because of.. because of a lie, an injustice!

No. I won’t lose Nick. I was powerless to tell my mother how I felt, that she did have the right to face me, but I know better this time.

Maya’s thoughts had frequently drifted to her mother. She’d never known her, she’d always been a distant and almost mythical figure in her mind. Mia had already decided quite early on to submit the Master position to Maya by default. Maya could barely recall a period of her life when she had not had Kurain Master as a future already mapped out for her, to ‘take over from her mother’.

If only she’d known, been able to say something to her that night, instead of whatever meaningless babble she’d spewed out, before her mother had.. ‘passed on’. Her mother was a confusing figurehead; at once an impossibly legendary ideal to emulate and a fallible, ultimately vulnerable non-example, disgraced and still ostracised by many in Kurain for her shameful ‘betrayal’ of her duty and responsibility after her psychological implosion.

It was a disconcerting prospect to have your only true role model to your life’s position laid bare in such an uncompromising light and have made transparent such devastating weakness, most likely also inherently potential in herself. She remembered how she herself had thought she’d failed Nick in the Edgeworth case, and she’d tried to leave Misty-style, ashamed to face him. But Nick had come after her, even though he was hungover, insistent she hadn’t failed him at all. It wasn’t channelling Mia he valued. It was her.

That had been a turning-point in her life and that was the moment when she’d…. well, it was best not to think of that at present. But the important thing Nick had shown her was that all those times, her ‘failures’ had turned out to really be lies. Every time, Nick believed in her.

The elders’ hostility, too, was mostly built on lies, inflated out of proportion. They were just trying to intimidate her. Nick had shown her the truth all those times. This was just the same. Much as she had during her training-stint isolation post State vs Edgeworth, Maya drew strength from her memory of Phoenix in the months and years ahead. Even if they were apart, she knew he’d believed in her, that she could handle the Master position.

But unlike her slightly more immature incarnation, she was torn. Her singleminded focus that first time had been amassing the spiritual empowerment to become a full-fledged medium specifically so she could help him. [Both to channel Mia without fail and to be a fully independent adult who could absent Kurain without restraint or re-requisition so she could be with Nick uncompromised.]

It was upsetting that it tuned out as an adult you actually had no – maybe less – freedoms and control over your own life, with all those ‘duties’ and ‘responsibilities’ thrust on you. Even now, she saw that younger self as well-intentioned but naive. And worse, as Master, it was difficult to validate a coherent reasoning for long-term absence from Kurain, without her former excuse of that pre-existing legal position.

And worse, she had a nagging intuition that her present goals were unclear. She still wanted to help Phoenix – but how? It seemed, more than anything, languishing in Kurain was compromising, not advancing her goal. And an uneasy sensation belied the suspicion that maybe the roles were reversed this time. She was the one with empowerment, such as it was, and Phoenix was the disempowered victim entombed in a prison of lies, with no-one who believed in him.

Except her.

***


Maya had feared Mr Edgeworth would be hostile to Nick’s situation, but Edgeworth had seemed almost relieved to discuss Wright with whom would soon be his close confidant on the subject. Edgeworth didn’t mention the guilt he felt but did mention the disconcert that any attempts to get the ‘evidence’s’ source examined had met with conclusive failure. There was little hope of clearing Wright’s name by that route.

There was a vague chance if the case itself was reopened in court, but unless Zak Gramarye returned there was no reason to trigger its reoccurence. Regardless, the forged evidence was a separate issue, and the likelihood of examining it in the trial as relevant to the murder itself was slim.

The only avenue was if the evidence, case and events surrounding it was scrutinised from an entirely different perspective. This, of course, would require fundamental changes in the current court system. What were the odds of that? Edgeworth had to admit he didn’t know. People continuously purported various reforms, and every so often some were implemented, but it was a lottery, really, if any were installed at all, let alone would be beneficial to a re-examination of State vs Gramarye.

Or if the real forger was brought to trial, and his or her myriad activities brought under examination. Edgeworth had suspicions, but he didn’t have any evidence at this stage. [He hoped Wright’s sole current social relations were motivated by a gut feeling and not by utter stupidity.]

Edgeworth was fundamentally negative. Wright’s situation was utterly hopeless, he ascertained.

“There must be something somebody can do,” maintained Maya. A pained desperation flared her eyes.

Edgeworth shuffled and peered at his arm awkwardly. Maya was one of the few individuals to whom he felt obligated to not impart emotional distress. He still held the highest regard and gratitude for her twice risking herself to save him in State vs Edgeworth.

“Kurain Masters have amassed significant diplomatic power in the past,” he eventually mused. "I encourage you to regain that influence and wield it, in, say, the legal arena specifically. Wright could use a friend in high places on the off-chance an opportunity ever occurs. Heaven knows he has enough enemies…”

Edgeworth jarred suddenly. “Oh what am I saying,” he expulsed crossly.

“I retract my previous advice. It will most definitely be interpreted as an imminent repeat of the exact same errors as Misty Fey. You’ll be accused of again ruining Kurain via disrepute from the legal world.”

“I know! But I have to help Nick!” [What exactly had her mother been doing with Mr Grossberg before she disappeared anyway…?]

“And all for only remote odds of success.”

“I’ve got to try. Do you understand, Mr Edgeworth?”

“No,” admitted Edgeworth. “You’re just like Wright,” he continued, warming into an anecdote. “He tries to run across that burning bridge – Dusky Bridge, it was – even though we all know it’s going to collapse. ‘I had to try,’ he says.”

“What? I.. I’m not that idiotic…”

“Idiotic, hmm?” queried Edgeworth, faintly amused. “It was ‘idiotic’ to try to save you?”

“I… I thought he was trying to save Iris…?

Edgeworth’s eyes ascended skyward at such communicative malfunction.

By way of reply, he continued, “I will act as your professional guidance, Master Fey. We shall meet again.”

***

The Kurain Master extending tendrils into legal circles was not as imposing a task as Maya had anticipated; so precedented by the dubious groundwork of Misty Fey. She appeared to have intricately enmeshed herself, and some of the collapsed strands could be revived. With distinct discretion, of course. Maya knew the world teemed with Grossbergs and Redd Whites. And many of Misty’s poorer decisions could be used as guidance by way of non-example.

And what kind of insanity had convinced Misty of agreeing to the ultimate manifestation of her machinations? Maya admittedly had the benefit of hindsight, but surely somebody must have reasoned that dead people still lie. [Perhaps Misty’s own judgement had been compromised be the recent death of Maya’s father?]

But the precedent that the spheres of power had somehow swirled to allow such a misguided practice to be considered valid evidence in court was now ironically cheering to both her and Edgeworth. Moments of legal insanity had occurred before. Maybe the cards would fall into one beneficial to them this time.

Phoenix wasn’t the only wanton gambler.

Maya feared it would be distressing or infuriating to Edgeworth to closely necroscopy the dubious diplomatic malfunctions and mutual misguided exploitations which had conspired in the fiasco that ruined his life, but Edgeworth actually found it healing to finally arrange logical sense of the tangle of ploys and betrayals. Comprehending the tangible explicits of Misty’s manipulations (and subsequent manipulation) on an intellectual level finally allowed him to release his lingering resentment of her. (The culmination triggering her ruin appeared to be more others exploiting to their own ends, rather than her personal designs for power.)

There was no requirement to openly discuss the mutual magnitude of what the dealings had wrought on their young lives. To twist the last vestiges of DL-6 into something ultimately beneficial would be effective final closure for both of them.

***


Phoenix and Maya kept up their friendship of course – keeping regular contact and Maya managing to visit him at least once a month – but they mostly kept their communications to uncontroversial topics and maintained something of an emotional isolation between them. Maya knew Phoenix had been somewhat emotionally maladjusted since the disbarring, but he did not show warnings of becoming dysfunctional and was proving to be a competent and dedicated parent. She didn’t want to seem to be intruding or mistrusting him.

Phoenix, for his part, could sense that Maya was unhappy in the Kurain Master position and could not absolve his own guilt that the disbarring had thwarted her plans for balance in her life and the opportunity of his support. He thought it only tactless to intrude, as there was little practical help he could provide: he, after all, was the source of much of her ongoing problems and he was grateful that she had kept up their friendship despite the rest of society’s ostracism and the stain it cast on her own reputation.

Maya dedicated most of her efforts of helping Phoenix into her collusions with Edgeworth.

Frustratingly, Phoenix was hostile to the premise of their ambitious attempts at regaining his status, paranoid that they would merely have their own reputations and careers ruined for his sake. Phoenix just didn’t get it. If it wasn’t for him, they wouldn’t even have those lives and careers in the first place. Subsequently utilising them to help him, even on the off-chance of risking losing them again, was trivial. But their ‘legal diplomacy’ activities became another area of their lives they mostly kept from him.

Phoenix himself wasn’t particularly forthcoming or amicable with regards to his own ‘investigations’. Oh, he’d shared what he’d discovered with Edgeworth for a time, but irrationally, he ultimately baulked regarding Kristoph Gavin.

Edgeworth was certain Gavin had framed Phoenix, even if there was no conclusive proof or evidence. He and Maya had difficulty comprehending Phoenix’s reluctance to pin absolute blame on the sinister lawyer. They didn’t have total proof, maybe he didn’t do it, Phoenix lamely persisted. This naturally irritated Edgeworth, but Maya thought she understood.

Maya realised to her pain that Phoenix still had that trusting streak, still held out with some vague hope that maybe unproved negative accusations against people weren’t true, maybe people’s motivations weren’t really evil. In his head, he knew Kristoph was a murderous betrayer, but his heart still clung to a last vestige of idealism that sometimes people aren’t motivated solely by personal gain and that maybe one ‘friend’ really did believe in giving him a chance. It was somehow symbolic of that idealistic streak of his worldview which he knew he was losing.

He’d always wanted – no, needed – to believe in the possible good in people and was in a kind of denial because he knew he couldn’t any more, but wanted to delay the admission he’d had that idealism crushed out of him, that his attitude to humanity and its motivations was now cynical and negative by default.

Edgeworth and Wright, however, had a brief falling-out. “Of course he did it. Either that or you did it. Are you trying to allay your own guilt?”

“I thought you believed me..”

“I believe you have gone insane,” snapped Edgeworth. A few weeks later he was back on Wright’s case, but to Phoenix himself he left this obscured.

***

The Elders, too, of course, continuously censured Maya of the stupidity of flirtations with legal manipulation that risked being an ‘exact replica of Misty’s downfall’. In actuality they were being unreasonable, as Misty’s downfall had really been that disastrous attempt to have channelling become evidence in court, but Maya was disconcerted because it was an inflated distortion of an actual truth. She could not delude herself it wasn’t a risky strategy, and its actual motivation was difficult to deny with plausible alternate reasoning. None of the Elders believed she was enacting the last will of Mia. There was no obscuring the ‘probable’ motivator for her legal incursions.

***

They may not have discussed it with him, but Phoenix was not completely blind to specifics of Maya and Edgeworth’s incursions into the legal diplomacy sphere, and his personal paranoia and guilt had continued unabated. What if they were ruined Misty-style by another Redd White, solely because they were trying to help him?

After he apparently assumed Edgeworth was now off his case, his frustrations exploded in a futile attempt to dissuade Maya.

“Forget it, Maya! I forged it, okay?”

“Nick.. you said you didn’t..”

“I see I was wrong. I should have let you believe I forged it like everyone else. Then it wouldn’t have to hurt you…”

“I can’t do that,” spat Maya. “Besides, you only took the case the night before. And the payment for the forgery was massively expensive...”

“Forget it. There’s no point in wasting your life seething over INJUSTICE YOU CAN NEVER CHANGE!”

Phoenix’s current emotional outlook on whether his name would be cleared was all too transparent.

***

Maya hung in the shadows of the alcove, lighting the candles for that ritual of respect for the spirits of the departed.

No one would see her now, and good thing too. Pearl was getting older, and considering education which might give her hope of a future external to Kurain: ie. NOT as future Master. [Maya had ensured her neglected academic education was attended to as soon as she began her tenure.] Pearl never expressed resentment for Maya taking what so easily could have justifiably been her position; Maya hadn’t even desperately wanted it, really. She could never let Pearl know she wasn’t blissfully happy and still daydreamed of alternate futures she knew could never come to fruition.

Ones which meant she was unable to resist opening her Master’s Talisman and staring at one of the other photos in addition to the ceremonial ones of Misty and Mia, even if Phoenix wasn’t dead, really. Today, she was unable to suppress tears.

Unfortunately, she proved not to be alone. One of Morgan’s old chief powerbrokers slipped out from the corner she’d been discreetly observing from. Maya froze helplessly, slack-jawed, still clinging to her photo lamely. They were never supposed to see her like this.

Mystic Mira departed without comment.

***

“Are you insane? The Master will be the ruination of us all! Again!”

“Kurain’s prosperity is increasing. Let her play with fire a little. We can always stop her if it gets out of hand.”

“What’s with your sudden change of tune, Mystic Mira? I thought you were determined as anyone not to let all that legal meddling pass without censure. We all know it’s not motivated by the best interests of Kurain.”

“Ruining another Master is not in the best interests of Kurain either,” replied Mira.

Mystic Mabel gave a squeak of shock. “Are you going senile?”

“No. Mystic Maya may not be perfect, but she has proven herself to mean well.”

“No she hasn’t. What about all that legal distraction?”

“Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“No.”

“And yet still she stays,” marvelled Mystic Mira. “Morgan was wrong about Mystic Maya.”

“So, how’ve you been? Is.. everything okay?”

Phoenix sifted out what to tell her. He’d been fired for piano-playing incompetence at one of his 3-night-a-week contracts, but that was the norm, these things were temporary till they found out he couldn’t actually play. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to pay the electricity bill, because he’d forgotten about it before consenting to buy that expensive magic prop for Trucy. The local supermarket continuously accused him of shoplifting, based on his dubious appearance. He was aware these nasty sad wrinkles had appeared over his eyes. Oh, and there was that unfortunate evening with Kristoph Gavin.

“Everything’s been fine,” he assured, hoping she’d hear his faked grin over the phone.

They chatted about neutral topics for a while, intoned cheery parting formalities, and hung up.

A minute later, something compelled Phoenix to redial.

“Nick? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m just… lonely is all. Trucy’s away on camp.”

“Aww.” Maya knew Trucy had a stabilising influence on him, as well as her care being a main daily motivator. Her usual presence made it easier to leave him. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Oh no, that would be too much trouble..”

“Not at all. I was going to go to the city tomorrow anyway. I’ll just come a day early,” declared Maya, rapidly rearranging her week.

“If you’re sure..”

“I’m sure.” It was such a relief to get out of Kurain, anyway. “I’ll be there right away..”

***

“Nick? Are you drunk?” Maya’s query was non-judgemental. Phoenix abandoned his surreptitious attempts to shove the bottles under the couch with a foot.

“No. It’s grape juice. It kind of puts me on a high. It’s… not working right now though.”

“Sorry for dragging you out of Kurain,” he continued as they settled on the broken couch.

“Oh don’t thank me. I.. I’m so sick of it there. I wish I could escape..”

“Maya… I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure things are worse for you. You said something happened?”

Phoenix sighed. “You and Edgeworth were right of course. I always knew it really.”

“Sorry I’ve been so ungrateful,” he added awkwardly. “I know you were trying to help me.”

Maya sighed too, she was way beyond holding onto resentments . “It’s okay. I’m sure it’s only because you care, right? I.. worry about you too, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I think I understand…”

Their eyes met, and whatever Phoenix saw there compelled him to continue.

“I’ve just been.. deluding myself. I have to accept I won’t ever clear my name. I know Kristoph did it, and I know there’s no way I can legally prove it. Nothing. I wasted all this time and now I’m trapped. And why? Even if I did become an attorney again, I could never believe my clients, not really."

“Oh Nick…”

“I know he’s a murderer. What if he hurts Trucy because of me or the case? I’m so scared, Maya. I haven’t protected Trucy. I’ve just made everything worse…”

“Nick...” Why contradict him when it was probably partially true. His eyes sprung tears mirroring her own.

‘A lawyer can’t cry until it’s all over,’ she vaguely recalled, and he definitely thinks it’s all over.

Tentatively she wrapped her arms around him. Phoenix responded by lightly resting his palm on her back.

They expected the cautious physical contact to be awkward, but it was not, and they clung to each other with unanticipated desperation.

“I’ve been so lonely,” admitted Maya, somehow spurred into candidity. “I can’t admit my problems in Kurain to anybody. Not even Pearl, it’s tactless if she sees I don’t even like being Master when really it could have been her there. I have to pretend I’m happy. It’s a lie.”

Phoenix hugged her tighter in responding empathy. “I’m so tired..”

“It’s all an act…”

“A façade…”

“So other people don’t get hurt…”

“Or feel guilt over what they did which wasn’t their fault…”

“Yeah. Nick, when did you become psychic too? We can complete each others’ sentences now!...”

Their manufactured fortresses of years-old emotional isolation proved futile against collapse from whatever magnetism compelled their friendship and the weight of sheer emotional exhaustion. Maya’s head spontaneously descended to rest on Phoenix’s shoulder and his fell to incline with her head under his chin. They partially lidded their eyes. Words were almost superfluous as they nestled against each other.

Hours drifted past in a semi-wakefulness. Neither could amass any desire to move away. Years of parted dulling daily motions and mediocrity paled into irrelevance as they relaxed into this antidote to their debilitation.

The sun’s rays streamed in next morning on the pair still groggily entangled on the couch. In the mutual final comfort of their emotional exhaustion, they’d drifted off to sleep, limbs intertwined.

“Feel better?” enquired Maya, recalling his sombre mood the previous evening.

“Yeah. You know, we should do this more often.”

“Definitely…” Both hoped the other wasn’t joking.

Phoenix only ever plays ‘one song’, and I’ve seen this one thrown around by people as Hobohodo’s theme song. It uncannily suits, so I was going to make it that this was the ‘one song’ he played. But I realised it’s so parallel to his motivations it might blow his cover to Kristoph , so I had to amend things slightly. Got to admit that part of the chapter is marginally in response to the fanfic Shape of my Heart by Jean V.

I’ll be pleased that things will finally be looking up for our protagonists next chapter :)

---

It’s his birthday today, and Phoenix realises he is old.

He never envisaged it would turn out like this. Trapped in a purgatory of regrets, a dogged façade, a relentless enslavement to the fraud he must play out to the world during his daily life. As the drudgery of his unfulfilling investigations, posturing with Kristoph, boredom of piano ‘playing’ and addictive but empty adrenalin rush of poker cyclically repeated, it seemed time was still flowing on, erasing forever his allotment of years, regardless of the imprisoning limbo in which he was destined to endlessly regret and repeat.

Milestones like today are one of those occasions where the fruitless passage of years can no longer be cheerfully ignored; where he cannot successfully bury himself in the moment. What has he achieved? Nothing. What will he ever achieve? Nothing. When he’d committed to his ‘investigation’, he’d optimistically assumed it would take a few years to resolve at most, things might return to a semblance of normality, he’d become a lawyer again…

Things can never be as they were. He’s entrapped in this treadmill. Phoenix has begun to resign himself to the fact that he’s reached stalemate, possibly eternal stalemate. There’s no way to convict Kristoph, no way to clear his name. No evidence and no legal system opening. Perhaps he should give up, but he literally can’t. He’s now too intimately intertwined in the shadowy tendrils of the Gavins and the Gramaryes. If he puts a foot wrong, Kristoph will probably kill him, and if he cannot untangle the darkness of the Gramaryes, it will likely seize and exhume Trucy.

Caring for Trucy is the one task of any meaning he’s accomplished since then, but he can’t delude himself that he’d performed this via the most beneficial or efficient strategies. His parenting has been partially derailed by hijacking her skills and presence into his selfish little ‘investigation’.

He’d languished around the poker circuit initially on the instinctive notion that Zak would somehow resurface there – but as the years passed, this ‘possibility’ was revealed as increasingly remote; it was the meaningless ‘achievement’ of his ‘unbroken’ streak which kept him there, really. And of course he’d bent the rules marginally on that one. Trucy knew exactly what she was doing, somehow he wouldn’t categorise it as exploitation, nor all the magic shows – she demanded to do them, got upset if he tried to make her stop. Zak had ‘promised’ he would return one day to see her, but Phoenix’s suspicions only inflated as time passed that he’d merely been lying.

What Phoenix should have done, as best for Trucy and him, was abandon his selfish ‘investigation’ years ago while there was still time to ‘reinvent’ himself as… what?

It was inconceivable what he could have aspired to, being a defense attorney with its associated empowerment to save others [most particularly friends like Edgeworth] was the only genuine motivator he’d ever had, career-wise. That vague fantasy of becoming a manga artist when he’d signed up to art school was just a juvenile delusion to avoid serious career enslavement. How strange that things had so conspired. Larry was the artist of semi-minor fame, and he was the loser criminal hobo.

In fact, Larry was off on some art tour right now. His remaining friends had lives apart from him. Maya too had been off on that channelling appointment in that foreign nation –what was it, Borgonia? – for the last several months. Larry hadn’t totally abandoned him, Phoenix mused, but he hadn’t believed him, of course. “Fired from your big-shot job? Stupid Nick, ah we all make mistakes at work. No, I didn’t think it was my fault either when the fryer burned down at the fast food place, but they all said it was.”

And of course Phoenix couldn’t expect Larry to ever believe him. Whole segments of his life now were effectively an act. It was no accident he paid little heed to grooming and donned that investigatory hat, curtailing his true identity, but he feared that old adage of eventually becoming what you pretend. It’s all a lie. They’re right. He is a fraud.

Well, Phoenix ceded, he should have moved to another city years ago where his fraudulent reputation had not so extended, and got a job at the convenience store, 3am shift. It would have eliminated the danger his ‘investigation’ exposed Trucy and himself to, imparted the illusion to Trucy he had ‘moved on’ from that devastating incident, perhaps avoided that fraud he’d trapped himself in, like a moth impaled to a flame.

Suddenly the sensation of entrapment is unbearable. Trucy has left for school. Phoenix exits the tiny apartment and wanders randomly, vision hazed by the torturous fog of his mind. His feet eventually take him to a favourite restaurant of Maya’s back in the day (Menu: Burgers, Ramen.) Dazedly, Phoenix trudges in. He orders the cheapest item on the menu (a Diet Coke) and after he has sank down and opened it, he takes out his crate of grape juice.

Numbing, blanking, psychedelic, stupefying.. an overdose of anything had curious ‘benefits’ it seemed, and Phoenix’s psychological addiction was deep-set. One of the restaurant staff notices him and comments to another staff member, who reassures the first. Leave him. The hobo is harmless.

“Maya…?” mutters Phoenix, gulping his 15th bottle. Sometimes with the haziness and the associative properties of the location, he can momentarily pretend that fatal trial never happened and he is back in something resembling his lawyer heyday. Unfortunately the pain today is unresponsive to the diluting effects of the grape juice hallucinations.

Phoenix collapses his head to the table, attempting but failing to distract himself with concentrating on the bloatedness and nausea of overdose. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He’s not going to get ‘closure’. How much more of his life will be poisoned and wasted by this futile obsession? Tears don’t fall through the mask of pain, but he cries inside.

* * *

Phoenix’s current state is not conducive to piano playing, but he assumes it won’t be a problem. He’s played the song infinite times, so he’d assume he could reproduce it by habitual automatic memory, but even here he makes mistakes. Some of the drunk patrons jeer. Phoenix fervently hopes nobody will challenge him at poker tonight. He’ll probably lose.

In resignated desperation, Phoenix begins to pound out another song. The accompanying lyrics are disturbingly revealing, but he knows Kristoph is at the Bar Association meeting tonight.

He deals the cards as a meditation
And those he plays never suspect
He doesn’t play for the money he wins
He doesn’t play for respect

He deals the cards to find the answers
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden law of a probable outcome
The numbers lead a dance

He may lay the Jack of Diamonds
He may lay the Queen of Spades
He may conceal the King in his hand
While the memory of it fades

And if I told you that I loved you
You'd maybe think there’s something wrong
I’m not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one.

And those who speak know nothing
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who fear are lost

I know that spades are the swords of a solider
I know that clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds move money for this art
But that’s not the shape of my heart
That’s not the shape of my heart

[Shape of my heart - Sting]

Phoenix probably isn’t as incompetent at piano as he likes to think he is, but he has no aspiration to actually be a piano player and does not want to risk internally assuming its identity. It’s a transience, a means to an end. The true Phoenix Wright’s fulfillment lies elsewhere.

“Well, I’m up for a game of poker.”

Phoenix flinches, then suddenly realises who it is.

Huh? She wasn’t due back from that channelling appointment for another month, surely? But his years-trained poker face barely flickers.

“Certainly, Madam." They depart business-like downstairs.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” marvels Phoenix; they are subject to less immediate scrutiny downstairs.

“What? You thought I’d forget your birthday?” chides Maya. He is grateful that she does not appear to feel the need to remind him of his precise age. He’s also grateful for that poorly disguised mysterious infusion of cash into his bank account. Maya seemed determined not to let him sink.

Maya turns on her competitive edge in the early hands, but folds early in the later. Her pride is certainly not worth any risk of compromising her friend’s sole income source.

As they play, they chat about various topics, taking care not to cross anything too sensitive. Phoenix is quite sure that the only surveillance devices around here are his own, but at a location Kristoph frequents, you never can be too careful.

Maya was relieved that soon she’ll be able to impart Edgeworth’s rare stroke of encouraging news – the legal powers are almost certainly set to trial jurist systems. Finally, after years of unrewarded prowling and pacing, it’s the legal shakeup they’ve been anticipating; in the brief associated chaos and muddying of established rules, it’s their best and possibly last chance to get State vs Gramarye or its ‘evidence’ source re-examined, or at least the possible re-entry of Phoenix into some kind of potentially meaningful legal position. And not before time, groans Maya. She and Edgeworth had been reaching the end of their tether on the seemingly futile endless ingratification of unrewarded legal posturing, but they’d been so preoccupied they’d neglected to recall how Phoenix’s own experience must be even more tenuous and unfulfilling.

She feels guilt at neglecting Nick, he’s obviously emotionally malfunctioned recently, but she and Edgeworth had all their spare time consumed with jurist manipulations. They hadn’t exactly imparted this information to Phoenix yet as there had previously been a strong risk it too would dissolve into the quagmire of abandoned ‘potential reforms’ and thwarted ‘opportunities’. No wonder the poor guy is depressed, lamented Maya. His life sucks. I’ll have to keep closer tabs on his well-being.

But she also knew she’d be insanely busy with the final stretch of Edgeworth’s ‘jurist trial’ implementation project. What to do?

She knew what made her happiest. Steel Samurai! That would distract him from his problems and remind him of her. They could exchange reports on the episodes and allow bonding like they’d watched them together, even though they were apart. [Also, hopefully if he was going off the rails again, she could circumvent it by heeding warnings from whatever profoundly negative tones coloured his reports?]

***

Phoenix barely registers the spark of shock from the surreal murder before the surge of adrenalin electrocutes him.

He was already on edge from that bizarre framing attempt, a covertly paranoid animal spurred into hypersensitivity. This, perhaps, is what allowed him to observe the proceedings in meticulous detail. He is now jolted by the dual realisation that he is both in mortal peril, and that this is the kind of inconceivably cataclysmic event he’s been waiting for. Instinct renders feelings of petrification and entrapment; but conflictory realisation that this is the sole opportunity of escape from the bounds of that fraud and non-closure which has hijacked his life.

Phoenix’s mental processes churn frenetically, the hyper-arousal of imminent mortality triggers such necessary feats of intellect. He’ll be prime suspect for the murder, that is obvious. There’d even be ‘motive’, Zak just tried to frame him and is partly responsible for his fall from grace as a lawyer. It would be best not to let Zak’s true identity get out, that would establish more motive… Kristoph did it, but there’s not much evidence, as if they’d believe the testimony of the accused ‘murderer’..

Investigation of the crime scene and reasoning through cascades out instictively. In fact, he realises to his disconcert, to a non-observer, Kristoph’s ‘involvement’ in the events would be unclear.

Phoenix is briefly torn with terror. Shouldn’t any sane person’s sole priority in such a circumstance be ensuring his own acquittal? The death penalty is a distinct possibility; he’s got that forgery and the two cleared murder changes already so they won’t treat him lightly, probably will desire to ‘make an example’. But the last seven years of trailing Kristoph in the futile unresolution of ‘that’ case hasn’t really been living anyway. It’s been entrapment in some kind of psychological purgatory, thwarting any hope of closure or life progression. This is his final and sole chance of escape.

Having made the conscious decision that risking his life, such as it is, is irrelevant, he relaxes into the surreality. Ensuring Kristoph gets convicted for the murder…

***

It had all seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. It was a kind of poker game, he’d tried to delude himself, the fact he was betting his life on the outcome was of little import. He’d won plenty of poker games before, so this kept him sane and avoided the risk of being paralysed by trepidation. It held a sick symbolism of which he was marginally appreciative. Throwing all the cards on the table, his bet: one Phoenix Wright’s life. And it was a gamble of cosmic proportions. If the ace went down, Phoenix Wright would be slaughtered. He may as well have smeared it with his own blood.

They’d thrown away the rules years ago by unfairly disbarring him and thwarting his empowerment to act in court by legal means, and, in his highly jaded opinion, any system which allowed innocents to be killed for murders and the killer to walk free was fundamentally flawed anyway and justifiable for exploitation. It all made total sense in that limited context and manicness of imminent threat to Orly and his own life.

The manic dose of adrenalin had kept Phoenix hurled on a crazed high, but now it was finally over, and as he was taken back to the detention centre for questioning and processing before release, alone in the room, Phoenix crashed. Now his life was no longer in danger, the delayed shock and numbing began to sink in. Nauseated, his head aching intensely, Phoenix is able to carefully contemplate for the first time exactly what he’s done in his hyper-aroused state, and he’s starting to have second-guessings.

“I was only doing what they expect from me and have already been punished for forging evidence,” just didn’t seem as reasonable any more. He feels increasingly ashamed.

…Well, no. He’s got to admit, he doesn’t regret deceiving the court. Or that gullible young attorney [Kristoph was his mentor? A wake-up call was seriously overdue…] But he laments he’s finally degenerated into the very evidence-forging fraud the world has believed he is for the last 7 years. He’d reasoned at the time that it didn’t matter, since there is no hope of his name being cleared or ever being allowed to be a lawyer again, but now he’s having second thoughts. What inerasable price had trailing this fiasco wrought on him? He droops unsteadily in the corner of the cell.

And there’s one person alone he does feel guilty for betraying. Maya., She’d always believed he’d never forged it. What would she think if she knew? He’d instinctively not wanted her complicit in this mess – this was a product of his own personal mistakes and obsessions and lack of scruple.

Eventually, the guards arrive to release him. He stumbles rather shakily out the front doors of the detention centre.

Someone is waiting for him.

“Nick! Don’t scare me like that..” Maya might have intended to say more, but after one look at Phoenix’s face she merely hugs him wordlessly.

He’d known Maya would somehow find out about the trial. [He hadn’t been able to contact her directly, communications beyond ‘immediate family’ had to be made through the defense attorney and there was no way he was giving Kristoph Maya’s number.] He also knew he could never stoop to having her involved in the dirty tricks, mess and forgery he was executing in court that day. Would she be hugging him so affectionately if she knew?

“I didn’t get the actual evidence so I made a copy,” he soon blurted. “It was the same as the real evidence but… what have I become?”

“Huh? Oh, Nick, it’s okay…”

“What, you aren’t shocked? The card I presented as evidence was fake..”

“I know.” Maya had been to see Trucy.

“You already knew?

“Yeah. Don’t get so upset. I’m just glad you’re okay..” She dissolved into tears. “So, when your life’s on the line, you act like the ‘evidence forger’ everyone thinks you are. No, I can’t say I agree, but I forgive you, it didn’t hurt anyone. Only took, what is it, seven years for you to snap.”

She affixed her gaze more closely. “What’s with that bruise? Did someone hit you?” she demanded, tearfully enraged.

“Uh.. I’m fine,” assured Phoenix hastily.

“Well, I guess it’s over now,” she sighed relievedly. “ Let’s get out of here. We can go out to lunch to celebrate!” She glanced at him. “Actually, you look sort of.. green. Maybe we can save it for another time? Or I can just eat yours…”

Maya had to admit tedium was setting in. The requirement to cultivate continuing positive relationships with the Justice Minister, the Shadow Justice Minister, the Chief Justice… She was sick of doing free channellings for them [they would have all been clients anyway and raked in the money] and sicker still of sucking up to them and their odious relatives and ideas she didn’t agree with. But anything, anything to save Nick.

While she worked the ‘diplomacy’ openings, Edgeworth had poured years of long hours into extra legal publications, research, machinations and communications in the law world, anonymous and otherwise.

Maya had just endured a whirlwind two days meeting with diplomats and performing channellings in the city, and it was getting to her. She’d decided to take the opportunity to drop by and visit Phoenix too. Gingerly she massaged her fingertips against an aching shoulder-blade, but was thwarted from sufficient gratification by the bodily twisting requisite.

Phoenix, returning from the kitchen, noted her expression. “Shoulder pain? I can fix that for you,” he offered eagerly, delighted to be able to offer her some form of practical assistance.

“Oh, I’ll be fi… ooh. That’s nice,” ceded Maya appreciatively, reclining into his ministrations like a Burmese cat. The accumulated tension dissipated, displaced by the firm pressure of his touch.

Phoenix was enjoying this too. The opportunity to touch Maya had admittedly proved far more alluring than anticipated.

“You know, I could pay you to do this,” commented Maya, eyes luxuriantly half-closed.

“How much?”

“My eternal love and friendship.”

“Sounds great.”

“So, what’s been happening with you?”

Phoenix swept his fingers in a final arc on her back, caressing her rather tenderly before retreating. “Let’s take a walk,” he indicated meaningfully.

The vacant lot was fenced by rusted chains, barbed wire, and a screen of weeds. It was almost certainly devoid of surveillance devices and obscured from undesired passers-by. A useful location for imparting sensitive information.

“So you found Trucy’s mother? That’s amazing,” breathed Maya.

She’d originally offered to channel Thalassa Gramarye in the hope of untangling both Trucy’s family situation and hopefully some useful insight on that case, but she’d run into an unforseen ‘complication’. That, of course, was how Phoenix had known to ‘look’ for a dead person in the first place.

“Yeah, and good thing too,” sighed Phoenix. “Trucy’s always demanding I find her a ‘mother’. I guess she just doesn’t realise no woman would ever find me attractive,” he reasoned, awkwardly tugging his hobo hat.

“Yeah,” agreed Maya non-committally, marginally bemused that forming her reply was so difficult. Perhaps it was that flash of forlorn not completely disguised by his feeble laugh.

***

“Well, bye Maya,” sighed Phoenix, bittersweet at the train’s impending departure. “Take care.” Impulsively he pulled her into a loose hug.

Maya reciprocated the gesture. Glancing at his face, suddenly something in that doleful expression and those eyes captured her. Impulse caused her to drag his head down to her level.

“What makes you think no woman would ever find you attractive?” she murmured, the resulting flicker of surprise spontaneously forcing her to press her lips to his, a brief kiss where the flow of time compacted and dilated as blissful elation glided… before jarring back into the shock of conscious reality. Maya reeled back, eschewing eye contact.

“Sorry,” she muttered, and dived onto the train, tearing down the carriages until she finally locked herself into the train's toilet cubicle, panting. What had she done? Waves of humiliation shakily collapsed her into the wall as she bemoaned how it would be insufferable to face Phoenix again.

Maya drooped in the corner of her seat, overwhelmed, as the train sped towards Kurain. It wasn’t so much the revelation she still had feelings for Phoenix that had jarred her – she consciously deluded herself that she’d repressed that ‘juvenile teenage fantasy’, but admittedly, it had probably always continued to pool just below the surface – but the exposing that she had been unable to control them and had no doubt wreaked a destabilising chaos and awkwardness into her most valued friendship. It’s not mutual, she lamented, recalling that day long ago in the law office when he’d seemingly denied his feelings, he just thinks of you as a cousin or sister or something. He’d probably be with Iris if she hadn’t gone to jail.

She came to the gradual awareness her phone had been ringing. Nick, the caller ID told her. Resisting a fearful compulsion to switch it off, she answered.

“I’m so sorry Nick! Just… forget it happened, okay?”

“Uh, okay. You… don’t have to apologise.” As an afterthought he added “Because.. because I liked it.”

Silence.

“Er, well, I’m glad it’s okay..” Maya finally stammered.

“Y..Yeah..” stammered Phoenix.

“M…maybe we could do it again sometime?”

“Maybe.”

“Well I’ll.. see you soon.” They hung up.

Confusion racked Maya. She'd had (well,apparently still had) a thing for Phoenix, she admitted, but she’d assumed they would only ever be friends, she’d long ago resigned herself to the fact that he only saw her as some kind of cousin…

But he said he’d ‘liked it’?

Did it mean anything at all, or was he just being polite?

Maya and Phoenix got little opportunity to meet alone in the hectic build-up to the Jurist Trial. Edgeworth had pulled off the formidable coup of Phoenix being able to manage the trial jury for the local district, and Phoenix had a lot to organise. In a reversal, it was now Maya with more time on her hands - her diplomacy roles in terms of Phoenix were done, at least in the present moment. Hopefully, if the powers-that be approved of Phoenix’s running of the jurists, he could obtain a more permanent position, and maybe one day the opportunity would resurface to re-examine State vs Gramarye or its associated forgery...

So Maya buried herself in attending to local domestic matters in Kurain. Her status with Phoenix was unclear, but she erred on side of caution - he just hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings. During the day there were ample distractions. But sometimes, in the half-doze of nights alone, it seemed her feelings, now having spilled over, were stubbornly resistant to safe re-burial. She found her thoughts falling to Phoenix, mentally replaying that moment and sensation when she’d been kissing him [strange, she realised he’d made no attempt to pull away]...

She’d fallen for Nick a long time ago, based originally on his... personality, she guessed, (and because he believed in her, and that she could trust him with her life...) but [despite all that grape juice] he still had quite a nice physique, she could feel it... and this was someone who actually managed to look good in those awful hobo outfits and scruffy dishevelment. [Maya mentally noted that maybe it was overdue time to lure Phoenix to another ‘beach trip’.]

In fact, Nick if anything just seemed to have grown more, well, attractive since back in the legal assistant days. Had she just taken him for granted before or was it because he'd somehow lessened that slightly gawky air which made him seem like her little brother?

Well, if it wasn’t reciprocal, she guessed she’d just add this to her list of unrequited amusements with imaginary Samurai™ characters.. but no, this just wasn’t the same, and things seemed to be worse this time. As a teenager, she’d been able to imagine a vague fantasy that they might get together in ‘a few years’ when she was older, it didn’t matter that Phoenix didn’t seem to feel ‘that’ way at the moment. Now her feelings were proving more intense, possibly because it was.. well actually ‘past’ the ‘later’ in her original fantasies.

She’d never anticipated something like the disbarring fiasco. Heck, now she was 26, the age Phoenix was in their last case together.. had so much time really passed? She didn’t feel that different, really, slightly less naive and more jaded, that was all. How would she handle the equivalent of the disbarring sinking her life and career at this identical relative timepoint?

She felt still greater empathy for him. Any kind of ‘age difference’ just seemed to grow steadily more irrelevant as time flowed past.

But she was getting ahead of herself. Regardless of what might transpire between her and Nick, one fact was inescapable. He was still not welcome in Kurain.

Oh well. Maya closed her eyes...

***

The Jurist Trial had been deemed a success, and sometime later, Phoenix was obliged to attend a celebration partially in his honour. Various ‘friends’, the same ones who had ostracised and abandoned him for the last 7 years, crowded around to bask in his limelight.

Events had enacted so quickly, Phoenix was still dazed that his name had finally been so suddenly cleared. It was a strange feeling. That cloud overbearing him had given his life odd direction and dogged obsession for the last 7 years, it was almost confusing contemplating life without it. What was he supposed to do now? There was no salvaging the past, and to his future he drew a blank.

Phoenix chatted amicably to the ‘friends’ from the bar association and Justice Department (“We always believed you were innocent, Mr Wright, really!” they wheedled), lubricating himself with some (non-juice) alcohol as the night wore on. He could feel a headache coming on. He excused himself, retreating to a corner to observe the other guests.

He scanned the room for anyone he’d consider friends. Edgeworth had been invited, but made some compelling excuse not to attend. Apollo was there, trying valiantly to mix it with the big guns of the Bar Association, Trucy was giving him hints..

Trucy??? What was she doing here?

Phoenix was in half a mind to get up and send her home, but the weight of the alcohol made such an action seem too exerting. He just hoped Apollo would have the sense to keep her away from the bar.

Grossberg, still not retired, was lumberously present, locked in intense discussion with Maya..

Phoenix had been unaware Maya was attending, though he’d known she was in the city of course, and the Kurain Master position was license to gatecrash most parties.

Here he was accosted by yet another crowd from the Justice Department, hijacking him into their group and making loud conversation. Phoenix was somewhat out of the loop, so he didn’t really know what to say.

After being repeatedly captured by throngs of people he barely knew, Phoenix ultimately made the excuse of a toilet break, and subsequently retreated back to his corner.

And it was here that Maya’s gaze eventually fell on him.

Phoenix hadn’t exactly dressed for the occasion [but then again, maybe the only clothes he possessed were those hobo outfits?] but she’s thrilled to note he’d discarded that awful hat. Resisting an intense urge to straighten out those crushed hair spikes, she concedes she looks just as out-of-place in her Kurain Master robes - but she didn’t really come here to socialise and mingle anyway.

“Hey,” greets Maya. Phoenix looks sort of dazed. “How about we take a walk?”

Phoenix can only follow tractably.

***

They meander in silence. Vitamin Square still has its fruity attractions, only marginally more decrepit, but neither are currently interested in playing with apples and oranges, so they perch slightly awkwardly on an ordinary nearby bench. Their eyes meet, a pause hangs in the air.

As realisation has finally sunk in over the actual impact of the jurist trial, Phoenix is somewhat overwhelmed with his gratitude towards Maya for being his... friend.. all this time and even before that and...

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to gulp.

“Huh? Aww it was nothing,” downplayed Maya, shifting her eyes.

‘Thank you.’ So empty. Such an understatement, and not what he meant at all.

Again he flounders, at an utter loss to find words to explain what her support has meant to him, what she means to him. But again, it’s hopeless. Trapped in Maya’s eyes, he simply can’t comprehend what he should say.

But suddenly he internally lurched with revelation of what he should do.

Panic began to rise in him. He couldn’t even remember how to do this stuff! The last time had been all those years ago with ‘Dollie’ and...

No, he amended, immediately relaxing. The last time was at that train station, with Maya.

Instinct took over.

“Maya,” he began awkwardly, “remember how after you kissed me at the station we said maybe we could do it again sometime?”

“Y..yes” gulped Maya cautiously, the pounding of her heart engulfing her head.

“Could ‘sometime’ be now?”

“Nick...” whispered Maya, taken aback. “O..of course.”

Time drifted unabated through a dreamlike state.

When they finally broke apart, Phoenix eyed Maya hesitantly and somewhat bashfully, but met only with a grin of unrestrainable elation.

In hindsight, he lamented, why hadn’t he done this [seven] years ago? Because in that moment, he had realised, the future direction of the jumbled arrangement of his seemingly futile and confusing existence made sense.

“I wish...” admitted Phoenix, “I wish, that somehow... we don’t have to be apart any more.”

***

Due to an anonymous submission by a certain Edgeworth and Fey, the Bar Association had voted on and passed the proposal that the censure and ban on Phoenix Wright practicing as a defense attorney be revoked. Phoenix and Maya were perusing the minutes of that meeting now.

“Isn’t that great, Nick! You can be a lawyer again! I.. if you want to.” Her eyes dulled awkwardly. “I know you find it hard to believe in people any more...”

“Oh no, Maya,” corrected Phoenix, eyes fixing her intently, “there’s at least one person I know I can still believe in...”

***
[|| EPILOGUE ||]

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr Wright.”

Phoenix’s heart palpitated as he recognised her as the same Elder who’d tried to delude him that Maya officially never wished to see him again. Mystic Mira held out her hand, and Phoenix shook awkwardly. “A pleasure to meet you also.”

“Ah yes, I must express my gratitude. I know you were integral in supporting the justified Master’s inauguration and the resurgence of Kurain.”

Even Phoenix’s poker skills failed him as his jaw dropped languidly.

“I don’t get it,” mumbled Phoenix as Maya led him away, hand proudly looped on his arm. “Such a reversal? How did you do it?”

“Oh, it was nothing. Everybody’s softened by the glint of money..” dismissed Maya, alluding to Kurain’s recent prosperity.

“I heard that, Mystic Maya!” thundered Mystic Maudred threateningly. “You can’t buy our loyalties with bribes. You earned our respect.”

“Whatever,” downplayed Maya. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she queried Phoenix, who was gazing at her with a blend of prideful endearment and awed admiration.

“You really are the big shot around here,” he grinned teasingly.

“There was such a great risk of Kurain again falling into turmoil and bloodshed, but the Master’s impeccable judgement in face of adversity averted disaster,” continued Mystic Maudred with gusto.

“I didn’t invent that one,” Maya protested to Phoenix’s enquiring gaze.

Thus out of the tidal wave of adversity, the strands of a comprehensible future took shape.

With the inignorable evidence of his name being proved innocent, the Kurain Elders conceded that Master Fey’s judgement of Phoenix had been entirely correct, and there was no further resistance to his regular presence in Kurain. They now trusted and respected the Master’s decisions, as Kurain had improved exponentially under Maya’s tenure, both in terms of prosperity and the gradual erosion of the tensions and internal hostility with regards to rank and distance from the ‘main family’. [The love and trust still inherent between Maya and Pearl despite all previous attempts to poison their relationship had exerted quite an impression on the Kurain residents.] The Master dividing her time between Kurain and the city to better pursue her goals was now regarded as a reasonable premise, not a wonton abandonment of her duties.

So Phoenix and Maya would now both divide their time between both the city and Kurain. Phoenix again became a lawyer, with Maya as his irreplaceable assistant. That they only performed these roles half the year was not a problem, now Phoenix had another lawyer to take cases and keep an eye on Trucy during his absences. In Kurain, he was happy to fall into the role of Maya’s assistant. She was conclusively top dog there. Pearl could be safely entrusted to keep an eye on day to day issues when she and Phoenix were away. Kurain’s renaissance of prosperity and amicability meant serious problems were now few.

As Maya again caught the train from Kurain to the city to meet Phoenix one evening, she reflected with renewed awe that in fulfilling her duty to her mother to revive Kurain, she’d somehow also achieved her original deepest wish - to be together with Nick. Well, admittedly somewhat belatedly, she mused. Time, turmoil and distance had taken their toll. They’d both changed...

On the platform now, arranging her luggage. She turned with surprise when someone shadowed her from behind. She’d anticipated them meeting at the office, hadn’t expected him coming out to meet her all the way here.

Their eyes met, in a flash of something which transported Maya back to another scene, all those years ago...

Things had changed, they’d both changed. But maybe they hadn’t changed all that much....



***

So I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of my original story plan, but since this story was better received than I anticipated, I think I’ll write some ‘supplementary’ extra chapters. The time between chapter 10 and the epilogue could use more description. What do you think?

Phoenix's attitude to Kristoph- I don't like it, but it's as much as implied in the game and is one of the few canon hints given to how it could possibly have take 7 whole years. I thought it was a bit cheap by the writers because it's based on a bad stereotype of GS1 Phoenix rather than his more developed 3-5 character, but there are too many parallels between Kristoph and GS1 Edgeworth to ignore. 'My friend who was the only one who stood up for me in the class/peer trial when I was accused of a crime I didn't commit. People say he's a murderer and forged evidence, but maybe he didn't really." And how else can I resolve this unfortunate issue in my fic if I don't let it surface? :) That was the point. Hate that he seems kind of OOC on this, but maybe missing Maya made him regress.

Edgeworth and Maya -Misty obviously got something going influence-wise if she actually had the coup of channelling for the court evidence, even if it was something to do with Grossburg. So it makes logical sense that Maya could achieve similar in terms of influence with Edgeworth's assistance. I like the idea of them saving Phoenix out of the remains of DL-6 which ruined their lives and all the associated friendship/bonding.

-I didn't edit this one as much as I probably should have, cause I kind of want to move on to more positive sections of the fic. BTW this scene is the low point for Maya, (and it's pretty depressing, her categorising Phoenix as symbolically dead and getting sprung by hostile chief elders in her distress. I wasn't evil enough to end the chapter right there.)