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Shadowdweller Ban on Killing One’s Own Kind

Pleasure

The Shadowdweller Ban on Killing One’s Own Kind is a postwar law that makes one Shadowdweller’s killing of another a high crime unless there is a provable and imperative cause. Created by Trace to help bind a divided population together, it sets a legal limit on violence while exposing the difficulty of reconciling peace with accountability for crimes committed during the war.

Rule and Purpose

Trace established the prohibition after the civil war, defining the killing of one Shadowdweller by another as a high crime unless the cause is both provable and imperative. The rule is presented as part of the effort to prevent renewed internal violence; its stated exception means it is not an absolute ban, but the evidence does not specify how a qualifying cause is judged or what penalty follows a violation.

The law also changed the setting in which organized violence could operate. The former Shadowdweller clans had been dissolved, and those who had not reformed continued through secret, illegal assassin guilds. Some guilds retained scruples, while others did not. The prohibition therefore coexists with concealed networks capable of arranging killings, rather than erasing the capacity or intent to commit them.

Wartime Amnesty and the Limits of Prosecution

The prohibition emerged alongside a political settlement that pardoned acts of war so the population could be brought together and given a clean slate. That amnesty had a severe consequence for Trace: although Acadian had held and tortured him for the better part of a year, he could not be tried for those crimes because they were classified as wartime offenses covered by the pardon. He survived with extensive scars, while the legal settlement that helped consolidate peace blocked prosecution for the abuse.

The distinction is important: the cited legal explanation does not present the ban as a mechanism for reopening every wartime crime. Instead, it shows a new rule against intracommunal killing operating beside a broad pardon for past acts of war. The result is a gap between the law’s forward-looking restraint and the unresolved harm of the conflict.

Assassination Threats and Continuing Violence

The law did not end assassination plots against Shadowdwellers. Nicoya, Acadian’s daughter, helped set such a campaign in motion: she nearly succeeded in a coup at Sanctuary, turned or killed priests, and hired assassins to target Trace’s wife, Ashla, and their child. The planned hunt was to begin two months after the child’s birth. Guin believed the hired guild would persist until its assignment was complete, making the threat an example of how illegal networks could continue to endanger lives despite the postwar legal order.

The surrounding account also links Karri’s attempts on Malaya and Magnus, as well as two attempts on Trace, to Acadian’s effort to weaken the twins’ hold on power. These cases show violence directed at political and personal targets; the evidence does not establish the precise legal disposition of each attempt under the ban. It does make clear that the law’s existence alone could not prevent conspiracies or ensure that their organizers were readily identifiable: Acadian’s appearance and identity remained unknown to Guin, and he suspected she used an alternate identity.

Legal and Religious Accountability

When Malaya argued that Acadian should face punishment for what she had done to Trace, Tristan explained that the wartime amnesty barred a trial for those crimes. Malaya considered whether treason or sedition might provide another basis for prosecution, but the group first needed proof and needed to find Acadian. This exchange distinguishes the ban on killing one’s own kind from other possible charges: it does not itself resolve the legal obstacle created by the pardon.

A later confrontation also places accountability in a religious, rather than solely civil, framework. After Magnus disarmed Acadian and forced her to answer truthfully through his third power, he invoked crimes spanning both common and religious law and asked whether she truly repented and would accept penance, including a year serving Daenaira. The scene shows a separate route to answering for wrongdoing, but it does not establish that this religious process replaces or enforces the killing prohibition. Together, the law, the amnesty, and Magnus’s demand for repentance reveal a postwar order trying to restrain future violence while still struggling to determine how old crimes can be answered for.