"Let this serve as a warning to all who dare defy the High Sovereign."
Smoke thickened in the air like poison.
Flames began small—mere tongues licking at the base of the crosses. Crackling sparks danced upward as flames grew, devouring the crosses and creeping toward the lifeless bodies of those condemned, those who had turned their backs on their god.
Oh, how pitiful.
The crowd gradually dispersed. Go home or go somewhere else to share their thoughts about what they witnessed today over dinner, and then go to bed after praying to end their day.
Beside me, a soldier let out a coarse laugh.
"The good old Crimson Wood," he said, almost admiringly. "Doesn't turn to ash, no matter how long it burns! Perfect for this sort of thing, right, Mr. Executioner?"
"..."
He spat into the dirt, then chuckled again, louder this time.
"Haha, Just like in the old history books. F*cking fools. I can't even imagine what the f*ck they were thinking."
Does this guy think we're friends? Probably. Or he's just really drunk out of his mind and just needs someone nearby to pretend he's not alone.
"What? I had to be a f*cking servant for Scythe Dragoth, the titan of Vechor, the whole day. Don't you think I deserved this?"
Should I report him...?
I don't know...
My stomach turned. My head felt light.
I don't feel well today...
Maybe it was the smoke...?
Or maybe it was the number...
The sheer number of lives I killed today.
Yes—today was indeed the bloodiest day of my... life.
If it ever even was a life.
Executioner. A word that tastes like iron and dust.
Normally, I'm supposed to end the lives of the guilty—carry out judgment on murderers—monsters in human skin, they say.
But today...
I only saw myself as a monster.
I only saw myself killing fathers. Sons. Men who only wanted to protect their families from what they thought was wrong and terrifying coming from a god. People who once believed in their almighty god, to the point that they simply stopped in fear.
I think... they don't deserve to die at all.
Was it right of Scythe Seris to rebel against the High Sovereign...?
"..."
From above, smoke and cloud blurred together. The vast sky was soon smothered in a shade of gray, hiding the setting sun from view. The streets darkened, and streetlamps flickered on in the gloom across the cobbled square.
"Well... I'll get some sleep." The drunken soldier gave a tired hiccup, "You... should too. You have a lot of people to deal with tomorrow mor—"
All lights went off.
Everything plunged into black, leaving the fire burning the crosses to be the only light source left.
The soldier beside me froze, "What the f—"
"AHHHH—AH! ARRGHHHHHHHHH—" A scream could be heard, shut silent, from somewhere.
"Oh, Lord's horns..." He mumbled, now sober as a stone. He took a shaky step back. "F*ck! GO! Get to the carriages! Kill all of the people in there! Now!"
The other soldiers obey his command and moved instantly, boots pounding against stone as they charged into the dark.
I am too old for this...
I'll head back home now. My duty is done.
***
Dark!
So dark! So dark—Almost no different than closing my eyes.
My vision was too limited. Even with a lantern flying beside me and my eyes enhanced, I could hardly see where I was going.
Haaaa... Why does this place have to be built so damn big?!
"Stay close!" I hissed, my voice snatching, bouncing off nothing. "I think I feel something."
"Copy!" came the reply—
"..."
The only reply.
...Sh*t...
I turned, straining to pierce through the gloom. "Why is it only you?!"
My breath caught. "Where are the others?"
"..."
"Hey!" Panicked. I shouted louder. "Answer me!"
"..."
Nothing.
And it was in that suffocating stillness that I heard—
Neighing. Whinnying from far ahead.
Horses.
I must be close to the carriages...
I forced myself to move and carefully followed the sound. Mana surged to my rune. Flames sparked in my palms, forming spears in my hands. as I prepared.
I had to do this fast and then get the f*ck out of here.
Eventually, I arrived. The carriages all stood like ghosts in the dark.
I reached towards the first carriage. Unlocked it and yanked it open.
Empty.
"Oh... Lord's horns..."
I tried the second.
Empty.
"Ahhh—f*ck...!"
And quickly the third.
Still, nothing.
"You're late." A voice. Smooth and low.
I whipped around. "Who's there??!"
A pause.
"Doesn't matter." He said, "You'll be dead anyways. Just like your friends. Just like us."
Something tore through the air—
My lantern shattered into broken glass.
And darkness swallowed me whole.
My body moved before my mind could catch up—blasting all the prepared spears into the dark, into everything, everywhere. Walls. Floor. Air. I didn't care.
Fire crackled behind me. For an instant, they clawed back the dark, lighting up a limited path through the black.
The horses screamed as they burned.
And I sprinted back the way I came.
"Those spears of yours. They were meant to kill them." He mocked, close as breath, as though running beside me. "But you used them to flee."
SH!t! SH!t! SH!t! SH!t! I am not trained for this! I am not built for this!
"Leave me alone!"
I couldn't see him—I can't see him!! I don't know where he was!!!
Somewhere within the shadows, his presence is overpowering.
"This is how we felt."
"No, Please!" I begged as I ran and ran like a rabbit being hunt.
And a moment of carelessness or bad luck happened. I slammed into something and hit the floor.
"F*CK! NO! PLEAS—"
***
Cylrit
They burned.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH—"
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NOo—AHHHHHH—"
They Screamed.
"GA—AaAAhHHHHH!"
"NO! PLEASE!! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!! PLEAS—GAahHhh—gAAaAAhHHHHH!"
They pleaded.
"AGHhhHHhHhhhHHH—"
"AaaAa—AAaGHhhHHhHhhhHHH—"
They died.
"This is how they felt."
I stayed for a long while, watching as the flames ate through armor, skin and bone, watching as their bodies curled into black.
Then—only then did I turn.
Back into the shadows. Toward the portal where the others were still waiting for me.
"..."
"Took you long enough." The drunk man spoke, slouched against a wall, nursing a bottle of wine he got from... somewhere...?
"Thank you for waiting." I said.
"Yeah... well. Let's just go." He muttered, pushing off the wall.
People started stepping through portal.
Then—"Mr. Cylrit, sir?"
A voice—thin, quivering—pulled me back.
I turned and saw an old lady trembling as she tugged at my sleeve. "My son—I—he's not here—I-I remember him saying he would be back. Please, can we wait for him a bit longer? Please, sir?"
I took her hand. It was cold and shaky, almost fragile.
"I am sorry, Madam." I whispered as gently as I could, guiding her into the portal with me. "I am so sorry."