Prosperity for Wit

The Sun’s reddish blush, like that of sundried tomatoes, overtook the weary Sky as it ushered out the last vestiges of Night's veil. That same red dimly lit the mahogany desk whereat sat Zubaidah; her purple locks aflame with the sun’s blush, coiling round her shoulder as if given life by those rays of light. With one hand she absent-mindedly caressed that beauteous hair, while the other turned the pages of her book:

    “The causes of war, I believe, should be marshalled with the greatest care; it should be evident to all that one fights on the side of justice. For then the gods also, kindly disposed, become comrades in arms to the soldiers, and men are more eager to take their stand against the foe. For with the knowledge that they are not fighting an aggressive but a defensive war, with consciences free from evil designs, they contribute a courage that is complete; while those who believe an unjust war is displeasing to heaven, because of this very opinion enter the war with fear, even if they are not about to face danger at the hands of the enemy.”

    Unlike her usual routine, writing down whatever she thought might be useful, she simply sat there. She sat and stared into the vastness of the sky’s expanse. The sky was so vast, spanning many seas and lands, that there must have been some other person staring into it at the same time. How did they view the world; did they also think their beliefs were just?

A wispy sigh escaping her pursed lips, Zubaidah closed her treasured book and gathered some loose documents. Simply thinking upon just beliefs was not enough, she had a duty to act upon - a solemn duty which would certainly test the boundaries of justice. She was reminded of a statesman’s speech, an oratory barb that had pricked her mind.

    “All those different forms of government make laws - be they democratical, aristocratical, tyrannical - with a favour towards their several interests; and these laws, which are made by them for their own interests, are formed from their ideas of justice which they have a duty to deliver upon their subjects. Him who transgresses them, they punish as a breaker of the law and unjust. And that is what I mean when I say that in all states there is the same principle of justice, which is the interest of the government. Then, as the government must be supposed to be the stronger power, the only reasonable conclusion must be this: That everywhere there is one principle of justice, the interested duty of the stronger."

    That statesman’s speech would have his audience believe that those stronger than them were not only just, but even duty-bound to enforce their justice upon others weaker. Zubaidah could not even consider such an absurd idea to be right. Surely the stronger had a duty to protect those weaker, so that they might rise in turn to support them? At least she wished that were everyone’s idea, but she knew full well that it was but a distant fantasy; that criminal boss of hers had greatly imported the absolute reality that the strong ruled the weak.

But her thoughts and dreams had their departure date set when Zubaidah sailed into the city clerk’s office. Her mind was now focused upon the more imminent task of acquiring her letter of commendation, a supposedly easy one which - ‘We’re sorry to inform you that your item was recently stolen, apologies for the inconvenience caused.’ - was actually more difficult than she thought it would be. Of course, a trio of no-good thieves had broken into the temple’s vault and stolen one document - her letter of commendation - and nothing else.

    Searching the backstreets filled with off-license vendors and the dank alleyways, Zubaidah happened upon a strange group of three figures leaning against a nearby wall. An elegant gentleman in cream was heartily commending some scar-covered fellow, who waved around some rolled-up parchment before a dainty girl with grey locks. She knew from a glance that this was hers - be it her intuition or the large wax stamp - and approached this ragtag group.

    ‘Nothing to see here!’ A haughty voice sounded from behind a cream-covered hand, ‘You must have better business to be attending to, young lady, eh?’

    ‘Eek!’ A small finger motioned for quiet, as the grey-haired girl looked on as if she had seen a lion, ‘Long purple hair, a collection of super pointy spears and a dance-like stance… No way, it can’t be! The Lilac Heel, Zubaidah?!’

    ‘I had no idea that I was getting big down in the underworld circles, nor that criminal organisations were giving me such awful titles - and behind my back no less… I’ll certainly have to deal with that later.’

    ‘No, no! There're just rumours we heard, we did!’ A nervous laugh barely escaped the larger man’s closing throat, ‘We always have our ears to the ground. Listening for the most important info to come through. It's our job!’

    ‘So a group of criminal informants have resorted to stealing my letter of commendation? What a dry spell for business, if you’d have to do that…’

    ‘We had no idea that this letter was yours, boss, we did! We swear it!’

    ‘So now I’m the boss, what? Goodness, this is getting very confusing... But why did you take just my letter?’

    ‘The temple clerk just said it was the most valuable item. We overheard it, so we took it! To the victor goes the spoils, eh? But we would certainly not have taken it if we knew it was yours!’

    ‘So you would justify that stealing it was right, were it not me… Is something being justified the same as being just, I wonder?’

    ‘You’re like super rambling to yourself. But if you don’t mind, we’ll do a simple trade, right? You get this super important letter, then we go free, ‘kay?’

    ‘Oh, I don’t exactly care what you do - as long as I get my letter of commendation back.’

    ‘Yes, we just thought we’d give it back, we did! Not a mark on it, no way, not even a mark. We took good care of it, boss, we did!’

    ‘Now, you see, we will be making our exit. Off and out, and all that, eh?’

    ‘Yup, a super well-timed exit! We gotta run, but this I guarantee: you ain’t seen the last of the Ganzak Three!’