“Once, there was magic. But not every kingdom or country in the world accepted the practice of magic. In some places, a witch could be thrown in prison, or worse, killed, if she was discovered. There were even some places where people who were suspected of being witches were hunted down. It was a scary time to be a witch.
“There was one kingdom that was ruled by a great Queen, who had risen to power under suspicious circumstances. But no one questioned her rule, because she was the Queen. And besides, who else would take over?
“The Queen wasn’t an outright cruel person, but she wasn’t beloved across the land, either. The peasants, the farmers, all struggled to feed their families and pay the Queen’s taxes. The best care was given to the merchants, and the other nobles of the land.
“Then, one day, a woman came to town. She just appeared, in an abandoned cottage, as if she had been there forever. And this woman became known for her tonics and salves, for her healing skills and, what some called, miracles.
“The people soon became happier and healthier, but that caught the Queen’s attention. She sent her soldiers to the village where the woman lived, and had her brought to the castle. The Queen questioned the woman, who finally admitted to being a witch.
“The Queen was horrified; what if the witch discovered her secrets, or became loved by the people and attempted to take her throne? The Queen ordered the witch to be put in jail, immediately, and possibly to be put to death.
“But the woman stood tall, and stared the Queen down. And she said, in front of the nobility, the merchants, and those of the peasants who were allowed in the Queen’s audience, that she deserved a fair sentence.
“The Queen was stunned. What did she mean, a fair sentence? The Queen’s word had always been deemed fair, since she was, well, the Queen. That was her job.
“But the woman stood fast. ‘I am determined, Your Majesty,’ she said, ‘to have a defense, and a trial of my peers.’
“’But who would defend you?’ the Queen crowed. ‘No one will stand against me.’
“But there was one woman in the crowd, named Atorné, who had been educated in the ways of philosophy and religion, who stepped forward. ‘I will defend her,’ she said, causing gasps to ripple through the room.
“The Queen was bemused, but not alarmed. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘What else do you require?’
“’A jury, Your Majesty, to determine my guilt or innocence,’ the accused witch replied.
“’That I can manage,’ the Queen said, smugly. She called forth her most loyal courtiers, who she knew would do anything she asked of them.
“’That’s not quite fair, Your Majesty,’ Atorné said, upon seeing the potential jury. ‘They are all beholden to you, and of your background. A fair jury would be one of her peers.’
“’Her peers?’ the Queen scoffed. ‘You mean those folk in the back, who have no education, no thought beyond their crops and their families? You think they know what is fair more than these enlightened people?’
“’I only speak from the view of justice, Your Majesty,” Atorné said. ‘At least half the jury should be of her peers.’
“’Very well,’ the Queen snapped. ‘Now what?’
“’Now, I suppose we discuss the evidence, why this woman was called before you on charges of witchcraft. Then, when both sides have made their case, the jury decides her fate.’ Atorné proposed.
“’So it shall be,’ the Queen intoned.
“The proceedings worked just as it was decreed. In the end, Atorné gave a beautiful speech, and the jury decided that the accused witch should be released.
“The Queen was angry, but acknowledged that this seemed to be a fair way to deal with such cases. And so, the woman went free, and Atorné became the first lawyer in the world.”
“Wait,” Verity asked, rubbing her tired eyes and looking up at her mother. “Are you saying this is where lawyers come from?”
“What, you don’t believe me?” her mother asked, stroking Verity’s hair gently.
“I guess I do,” she mumbled, slipping lower under the blankets.
“Well, thank you,” her mother said, kissing her forehead and tucking her neatly under the covers. She stood to leave, stretching slightly, but paused when another sleepy murmur came from the bed.
“You’re a lawyer, right, Mom? Do you know any witches?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, smiling softly. “Maybe. They haven’t told me yet, if they are.”
“I think some of them are,” Verity said, pulling her stuffed horse closer. “Because magic is real, right, and even people with magic need help.”
“That’s right,” her mother said, flicking the light off and pausing to make sure the nightlight illuminated the room just enough.
“Sweet dreams, Mommy.”
“Sweet dreams, Verity. I love you.”
Verity mumbled something else, but her mother couldn’t understand. She just smiled, waited for a few more minutes, then carefully crept from the room. That was her best bedtime story yet, she thought, as she reached her bedroom and conjured a cup of mint tea from thin air. Of course, she had left out the little detail that Atorné was also a witch. But then again, that was part of a whole different story, for another day.
Inspired by a writing prompt from Writing Prompt Generator.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020