Magistrate Ren walked with deliberate, unrushed steps until he stood five paces from the witness dais.
He set the Lead Scales of Khorat upon the defense clerk’s lectern. The twin lead pans swung once, settled into neutral balance. Then he emitted a faint, deep thrum that shook through the granite floorboards. Across the well, Master Scribe Kaelen watched the strange, matching older version of the prisoner with a mixture of academic curiosity and subtle unease.
“Master Kaelen,” Magistrate Ren began, his voice flat, neutral, and careful. “You have testified under oath that the ivory awl on that velvet cushion was ground from fossil mammoth ivory from the Frozen Marches. You cited its capacity to channel ‘rotting spiritual feedback.’ On what specific physical criteria did you base that identification?”
Kaelen gave a condescending, patronizing chuckle, smoothing his crimson velvet lapel. “On the grain structure, Advocate. Fossil ivory from the northern frozen ground exhibits distinct cross-hatching—the Schreger pattern—at angles narrower than ninety degrees.”
“Fascinating,” Magistrate Ren said. He reached into his court stole, withdrew a small brass sliding measuring tongs and a magnifying glass with a ground quartz lens. Then he set them beside the scales. “And did you measure the Schreger angles on this specific awl, Master Kaelen?”
