P-2: Execution

"Please... I'll do anyth..."

The final bodyguard's limp body slammed into the side of the carriage, falling to the ground lifelessly with an unsettling crack. Pala approached with her oversized blade sheathed on her back, carelessly yanking off the bodyguard's helmet to inspect the damage she had done. The helmet was partially shattered along the front, the visor now with a small gap in the middle. After a few seconds, she grew bored with the damage she had caused and dropped the helmet back down onto the ground, squarely onto the back of the bodyguard's head. Without a word, she turned towards the slave trader, a dark glint in her eyes.

The slave trader was a man in his late forties, slightly overweight and lush blonde hair that was obviously out of place. His chubby legs and face were disgustingly baby-like and his messy facial hair resembled half eaten hay. He sat on the ground, scuttling backwards away from her despite his limbs shaking like they were trees caught in a hurricane. As Pala took a step towards him, he sloppily turned himself to face the ground and with another step, he made an attempt at standing up. Despite pushing his arms and legs as hard as he could, the strength did not come to him; he simply collapsed onto the ground, slapping his stomach onto the dirt and getting his gaudy dress shirt caked with mud. With another step, he turned around to meet his fate, barely holding himself together as he looked up to lock eyes with the woman who had wiped out ten experienced mercenaries by herself.

"W... what do you want from me. Money? Connections? Peop..."

Before the slave trader could finish squeezing out the last of his ego to make a plea for his life, Pala kicked him straight in the face, stomping his skull into the dirt in one swift motion. With the disgusted glare on her face unwavering, Pala wordlessly proceeded along the side of the carriage, every two steps accompanied with a meaty squelch and a bloody boot-print on the dirt. She turned the corner to find a large chain holding the door shut; made of a dark steel, evenly forged and the metal in the chains thicker than her thumb. After a moment of contemplation, her glare became a grin; perhaps this would be more of a challenge.

+++

Varie huddled into the corner of the carriage, her body shaking uncontrollably for a number of reasons, all outside her comprehension.

The first thing were her chains. With the icy cold weather seeping into the cheaply made wooden box, her restraints served as a magnet for the weather.

The second thing were her clothes. She wore tattered rags which barely covered her behind, so she was forced to choose between keeping her legs insulated with a thin layer of cloth or protecting herself from splinters.

The third thing were the blood curdling screams that they had been hearing since the carriage had stopped. What was going on? Why was everyone panicking? Everyone had been huddled before for warmth, but now it seemed like it was out of fear.

Varie did know one thing. Whether it was how she felt or simply her absorbing it from those around her, she knew she was scared. Using what little strength she had, the girl reached out towards her mother and clung on to her rags with all she could.

Before she could ask her mother what was going on, outside the door was an thunderous crunch, which was followed a few seconds later with the doors suddenly flying open, the only figure amongst the open field and sky being a tall, muscular woman with an enormous object strapped to her back, the same thing that the 'guards' had but larger. Her leg was raised upwards like she had opened the door with her foot, which was confusing for the girl, but she brushed it off when she heard the cries of her fellow slaves.

"We're saved! Thank god!"

"Thank you so much."

"Our savoir!"

Varie turned towards her mother to see her reaction; she seemed to be happy to see the person too. Maybe it was an old friend of hers?

The crowd hushed as the woman lowered her leg, unsheathing her large knife and slamming it down in-front of her. Varie thought the way it caught the afternoon sun looked strangely pretty, a collage of silvers and whites.

"Come out and get in a line."

After a small bout of murmuring, a few of the healthier slaves began to stand up, followed by the scrawnier ones, with Varie's mother standing up once it was just the two of them. Wordlessly, she joined the line and Varie followed obediently, keeping one clinging hand to her mother's rags. Once they had all lined up, Varie began listening in to what the woman was saying up the front.

"Tell me of your past and I will judge you. Only the worthy survive."

The murmuring immediately arose again but before it could get too loud, the woman slammed her knife into the ground again, with the vibration it sent through the earth almost knocking Varie off her feet. After a few seconds, a voice arose from the front, one that she recognised as the leader figure in their little group.

"I am a ------ion leader from a large town. I stole jewel---- from an ari------- bought with the taxes from struggling farmers and craf..."

Varie peeked out inquisitively for a moment, her curiosity peaked and her childish sense of wonder taking control. She had lost track of the conversation since it had started and now she was beginning to hear words she hadn't heard before.

Suddenly the voice was replaced by a raspy croak and a strange squelching. Almost as quickly as the slaves had become silent, a few began to scream, scrambling to escape despite their inhibited movement. One tripped over themselves, but the rest were almost immediately cut down with the large knife, their fleeing backs making easy targets for the womans quick movements. Despite the red making her uneasy, Varie felt mesmerised with the way the women moved. It reminded the girl of her mothers dancing, something that she had only gotten to see once.

Once the escapees had been dealt with, Varie found herself back to clinging to her mother's rags, returning to being consumed by fear without the distraction of swordplay. One by one, the line became shorter; the slave would state their past and seemingly no matter how true or false, exotic or mundane, she would cut them down without mercy. As the woman came closer, more people begged for their lives without any success until it finally came down to Varie and her mother.

"How do you plead."

For a moment Varie's mother remained frozen, but once she managed to force a glance towards the ghostly white blade which had now been covered in blood, she was reminded of the desperate position she was in. Without hesitation, she ripped Varie's grip off of her rags and turned back to pick her up, presenting it to the woman.

"I'll give you my child. Kill her, eat her, use her as a plaything, I don't care. Just please don't hurt me. I have so much more I want to do."

Varie squirmed on the spot, not fully able to comprehend the betrayal that she was experiencing. Why wasn't the question on her mind; instead, all the girl aimed to do was to return back to her position, huddled up against the leg of her mother. She violently shook her arms, legs and head until she felt the large, comforting palm of the woman in front of her, still moist from the blood on her hand.

"Absolutely not."

+++

With one hand the Pala picked girl up and with the other, she thrusted her blade awkwardly into the mother's stomach, a deep sense of irritation flowing through her veins. Without a word, she placed the child back down on the ground, who simply stood and looked upwards emptily. Quietly, Pala scanned the grassland around her, making sure that not a single living soul remained in the hellscape of green and red other than the two of them.

Pala sheathed her sword and picked the girl up once more, carrying her closely to her chest. The girl made no attempt to resist, even wrapping her arms around Pala's neck and loosely clinging on. Without a word, Pala stepped over the corpse of the girl's mother and began to walk.

The girl remained unusually quiet until about ten minutes of walking, where Pala finally broke the silence between them.

"You're allowed to cry, you know."

Until they reached the closest town, the tears refused to stop.