"Now listen, son, I know you've always complained about why we live in the middle of the goddamn desert, and to be fair... that's a very valid complaint, but-"
"Dad."
"Shhh. Don't interrupt me, you useless brat. Ahm, as I was saying, things might be looking bright for you from now on-"
"Dad."
"I said, don't interrupt me, you lazy rapscallion! Goodness! What does a man have to do to get an obedient son? Where was I? Oh yes, in short, we may get separated for a while-
"Dad!"
"Goddammit, boy! Why are you being so difficult?"
"Because they're tightening the noose, you delirious fossil!"
Elyas's father jerked his head to the masked executioner beside him, tightening the noose around his neck.
Then, he turned to his son, standing abreast of him, also having a noose tightened around his neck.
They were standing on a dilapidated gallows in the middle of the rundown Massenia Tribe.
The sea of dunes was encroaching upon the tribe, drowning its pathetic streets and crumbling sandstone buildings in amber sand.
No one tended to it anymore.
Ever since its inhabitants left for the Southern Kingdoms Union due to incessant raids, Massenia has been somewhat abandoned.
Elyas's father frowned at the masked executioner, then at the very few soulless, despondent tribesmen who came to watch.
"Hm, well, you're quite right, son. But say, weren't there a few more people in our last execution? It feels quite desolate today."
Elyas tilted his head at the six tribesmen standing below them, seeming as if they'd pass out from boredom or malnutrition at any moment.
"You know what? You're right."
He turned to his father, disregarding the tightened noose, and added:
"And they were also a bit more excited last time, weren't they?"
Elyas blinked wearily then stared up at the white, hazy blob in the cloudless sky.
The sun bared its relentless, ungraceful heat on them once again.
'It's nearing noon.'
Noon. Oh, what a horrible tragedy that would be. Guaranteed sunburn.
His father wiggled his head so that the noose could drop a little and yelled, "Hey Keppa! Where's the crowd! What happened?!"
A man with a scruffy, grizzled beard and a corpulent build turned to him derisively and sneered, "I told you don't call me that, you scoundrel!"
Elyas lifted his chin, quite eager to tease that fella with his father.
"Yes, yes, but tell us!"
Keppa grunted, then strode up the platform with vexation in his steps.
He leaned a little too close and intimate to their faces and grumbled, "First of all, you two bastards know that it's because of people like you and those vile rogues munching up this place. Second, do you really think the people would find your - what is it now - nineteenth execution, exciting?"
Elyas pursed his lips and huffed, admittedly.
"Well, Dad, he has a point."
His father frowned.
"You're right, son, he does."
Elyas shook his head and tsked hopefully.
"But, Mister Keppa, I really,really feel that this might be it. Like I can feel it... in my blood, you know?"
Keppa stared at them incredulously, then took a deep breath.
"You two are the bane of my existence."
He marched back down and continued watching them silently from the side, with a contemptuous, hopeful grin on his face.
Keppa looked jolly today.
Maybe it was their end today.
"What do you say, Dad, any tricks to get us out of this one?"
His father furrowed his brows in deep thought for a moment, then tsked and turned to his him, concedingly.
"Ah, not really."
"What do you mean 'not really', you old sloth?!"
"Come on, son, cheer up, I mean, look at the rope they're using-"
They both tilted their heads down uncomfortably, chin to chest, and assessed the conditions of the rope for a few seconds.
"You think we can nibble on it?" His father asked.
Keppa turned to them and shouted, "Don't think about nibbling your way out, this time! That's a fine rope right there!"
Elyas hummed in contemplation.
"This may truly be a predicament this time," his father murmured.
Elyas suddenly perked at an idea, "What about that schizophrenic system of yours? Ask it for a hand, would you?"
"No, no. It cannot help us here- Ah! You reminded me! We received an acceptance letter from the Coherence Academy in Rosendale! And... Hold on, I think I left our PC open before we left. Ah goddammit that's gonna cost us."
Elyas sighed dejectedly.
"Great, good news right before we actually die this time," he muttered.
"Ya hear that Keppa, my son got accepted to Rosendale!"
Keppa cocked his head at them and raised an eyebrow.
He seemed genuinely surprised at the news, along with the few tribesmen loitering wround.
"He did?!"
"Yes!" His father beamed.
Keppa remained still, staring at the ground thoughtfully for a few seconds before turning back to them with scepticism marring his face.
"You know that's quite hard to believe, right?!"
"Well, I can show you if you have a-" His father glanced around them doubtfully, "... an electric device around... which now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think you would."
Keppa held his gaze for a few seconds, then a covetous glint sparked in his eye, and his mouth curled.
'Oh I see, father did have one last trick.'
"Say, Elyas!"
"Ah huh!"
"What do you say we make a deal?"
Elyas and his father frowned at Keppa with fake intrigue.
"A deal?! With me?! What?! Do you want to join the scavenging industry?!"
"No, you dense rat! I mean, if you really did get into Rosendale!"
Elyas went silent for a moment, scratching his neck and adjusting the noose so it would irritate a new part of his neck.
A few of the tribesmen had already left out of boredom by now, but the three who were left watched the altercation with very mild interest.
And after a bout of shallow thought, Elyas yelled, "Is this how we get out of the ropes?!"
Keppa shrugged.
"Depends on your answer!"
"What's the deal?!"
"Eh, just a house in the Southern Union! If you make it, that is!"
Keppa gestured to his surroundings with displeasure, "Not much left for me here anyway!"
Elyas and his father looked at each other, considering the offer with a few mumbles and gestures.
They didn't say much, and they didn't have to.
After all, the two had spent their entire lives together, with no one else... well, except for a few other acquaintances here and there, but that was all.
"I mean, it is getting pretty hot out here," Elyas murmured.
"Hm, yes, an iced drink would be nice. By the way, I heard that in Europe, it's very cloudy most of the time."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, oh and son, hear this, there may not be many people like you up there, so you're probably gonna stand out plenty."
"People like me? Shrewd, proper and exceptionally handsome?"
"No. Pathetically broke, poor-mannered and looks like a wrinkled palm date."
"And whose fault is that you outdated sapien!"
Keppa gritted his teeth and growled, "Hurry up, you boors!
Elyas shrugged and turned back to Keppa with a smirk. "Sure! And by the way, is that fella Ramp still around, or did he leave too!"
His father picked up and nodded ardently.
"Yes, yes, he truly does make excellent Iced coffee."
Keppa waved to the masked executioners and huffed.
"He left last week! And could you start calling people by their names, for goodness' sake?!"
The nooses were relieved.
Elyas and his father sighed in disappointment and rubbed their necks.
"Goodness, that's truly tragic," muttered Ilyas.