Reflections on the Zimmerman Trial

...and all the dregs that have been kicked up because of it.
I don't normally like to write on politically charged issues, but this particular one just kicks up so much sand I need to clear it from my teeth.

First and foremost, death is a tragedy, nothing changes that fact, but when justice has been followed and a verdict has been reached, that should be the end of it. As a nation, we are nothing without Law, it has been followed, that should settle it.
For the record, I am very out of touch with news, I hadn't actually read a thing about this case until the verdict had been reached. The case itself has little import to me.

The reactions to it, on the other hand...

In the King's Name Pt 2

The inn stood much as it always had, except the front window was now broken, and a few broken pieces of furniture were scattered across the yard. The bodies of four liveried guards were scattered around the yard as well, and the trail of blood leading away indicated the direction that the rest had taken.
Sitting on the front step was a figure that could have been mistaken for a beggar were it not for his eyes. Solid orbs of a piercing blue the color of deep seas, they seemed to glow of their own internal light. The figure let out a heavy sigh and stood up.

In the King's Name

Heavy footsteps pounded along the frozen road while the inhabitants of the inn slept; a mailed fist slammed on the front door. The innkeeper jolted awake and began groggily making his way through the kitchen. The innkeeper spit curses as he knocked over a stack of dirt pans and a cast-iron griddle landed on his foot. Finally reaching the front door, he hollered through it.
"What daft fool is making such a ruckus at this time of night?!"
"Open this door in the King's Name!"
The response was proud, almost haughty, the voice cultured and crisp; it was a noble's voice. The innkeeper began to sweat. Nobles pounding on ones door in the middle of the night never boded well. Numbly, he drew the bolts and pushed the door open. Eight heavily armed guards with torches stood outside in formation, and at their center was clearly the man who had spoken. A head taller than the guards with him, his hair gleamed in the torchlight like liquid fire flowing over his shoulders.
"What... is your wish m'lord?" The innkeeper managed to stutter out.