The Execution Day

The commotion in the streets put Arawn on edge. He knew what he needed to do, but he could not help worrying that something would go wrong. Sylvester had come up with a dozen contingency plans, but…

'It's going to be fine, you just have to do as you were told,' Arawn told himself in his mind and took a deep breath to calm himself. It didn't help much, but he managed to focus on what was happening before him.

It was the day of the execution, and the streets were filled with people. Some of the nobles had run to the east or north of the country, away from the approaching army, but most of the common citizens were within the capital.

Some of them did not know enough, others did not care, and many just did not have the ability to leave. It required a lot of money and preparation, which was impossible for people who lived from day to day with earnings only high enough to pay for the day's dinner.

A public execution was a smart move in a city full of worried and stressed people. They were given an enemy to hate for their situation, the threat of war looming over them.

There was a good chance the crowd would riot, however, so there were many soldiers patrolling the streets. They rode horses and poked people with the blunt end of their spears whenever a fight broke out.

Arawn watched the proceedings without interfering. He avoided the soldiers in fear that someone might recognize him, but within a crowd of more than a thousand people, he did not stand out.

Dressed in an old, washed-out shirt, once-upon-a-time green vest, and dark brown leather pants, he was like any other apprentice out to see a show. His ash blonde hair was dyed black, which made him even more unremarkable.

Together with the crowd, he moved toward the plaza where the execution was to take place. His progress was slow since people often bumped into him, threatening to make him fall, but there was still time. The execution was to take place at midday, which was around an hour away.

But as Arawn said that to himself, he could not help the worry twisting in his chest. What if he was late? What if he could not get close enough? What if—

An elbow jammed into his stomach and stole the breath from his lungs. Arawn gasped for air and took a look at the person who had bumped into him. It was a youth of fifteen years of age who didn't even glance back.

After Arawn caught himself on the way to the ground and regained his footing, he rushed forward again, trying to get through the ever thickening crowd. The closer he got to the plaza, the more people there were in the streets, and he soon found himself unable to move.

He tried to act like the youth and forcefully push through, but all he gained from it were a few curses and backhanded pushes back. No one paid any attention to him or his pleas to get through.

One woman even turned around to give him a lecture on manners. Everyone wanted to see the execution, so he should be quiet and stop bothering his elders.

Arawn gritted his teeth and tried to slip through again, but his slight frame wasn't enough to move the masses. He couldn't get even a step closer to the execution grounds.

But he needed to get there.

A glance up warned him that there wasn't much time left. The sun was climbing higher and would soon reach the zenith, which marked the death of Val and his family.

Arawn clenched his hands into fists and called to the ether. If the crowd did not let him pass, he would make it give way.

"Move!" he yelled out in a cold voice and raised his hands sheathed in blinding white ether.

For a moment, no one reacted to him. The men and women kept on pushing against one another, not caring to look back.

But soon, an ear-piercing shriek split the air above the street. Everyone turned to look, and their eyes landed on Arawn's ether-white hands. There was a moment of silence as they tried to understand what was happening, then curses and terrified screams surrounded Arawn.

The people around him scrambled away. They shouted and pushed at those next to them with inhuman strength. Fear fueled them like no promise of entertainment could.

It didn't take long for a circle of empty space to open up around Arawn. He smiled in relief and lowered his hands, but the crowd didn't take it well. Those before him began to push to the sides with even more might.

Arawn didn't know what set them off, but he did not care enough to investigate it. With materialized ether shining around him, he stepped forward at a relaxed pace and got closer to the execution grounds.

A stage had been built just for the occasion, and upon entering the plaza, Arawn could see the figures of Val and his family. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and there were nooses hanging loosely around their necks.

A woman in red robes and with a scroll in her hand was standing a few meters from them. She was reading the list of crimes, but no one was listening to her anymore. Word of Arawn had spread through the crowd like wildfire, and everyone was craning their necks to see him.

Some people eyed him with excitement, others with fear and hatred, but no one stepped forward to stop him. They whispered about his ether and how it didn't fade despite how long he kept it around him.

Arawn smiled again while congealing even more ether. Balls of it swirled around him, which made the empty circle around him grow even larger.

Feeling a little giddy from how well things were going, Arawn quickened his step. Then, without warning, he lunged forward and sent a few ether blades flying toward the stage.

The people over whose heads they passed screamed like they had been hit and dropped to the ground. Arawn jumped over their cowering forms and got closer to the stage.

His actions were enough to attract the attention of the soldiers, and they started pushing through the crowd to get to him. The woman on the stage stopped in her speech and glanced at him with narrowed eyes.

Their gazes met, and Arawn felt the ether move. The earth squirmed beneath him, and he jumped to the side in an awkward dodge, barely avoiding an earthen hand, which rose where he had stood moments ago.

"That's unfair," Arawn muttered to himself and sent a few ether blades toward the red-dressed woman. "I can't use the elements."

Water struck him from behind, encasing his head in a bubble. It blocked his vision and wormed into his mouth, nose and ears. Arawn grabbed at the water, but his hand phased through it and he only smacked his own face.

Something grabbed him by the foot, and he stumbled.

The earth rose to meet him, creating a coffin to encapsulate him, and Arawn's heart beat against his ribcage like a drum. He could not see, walk, or even breathe.

Indignation rather than fear filled his chest, and he grabbed onto the edge of the coffin and demanded for the ether to come to him. It wasn't a plea, but an order. One he did not allow to be questioned.

The ether imbued in the elements resisted him for a second, but then gave way and rushed to him like a tempest of white light. The elements were left without the energy that moved them, and the earthworks froze just above Arawn's knees while the water fell on his shoulders, drenching him.

The fireballs that Arawn hadn't even seen coming winked out and disappeared, while wind blades turned into gusts of wind that whisked through the crowd, stealing caps and loosely tied scarfs.

Arawn held onto the earthworks and coughed like crazy. Water had clogged his throat and rushed into his lungs. He could not think about doing anything but staying with his head down and coughing until he could no longer feel the liquid sloshing through his lungs.

A long time passed before he regained his wits and heard the voices around him. Somewhere in the distance a squadron of soldiers was marching toward him.

Arawn raised his head while taking in a shaky breath and looked in that direction. There were forty people coming toward him, and all of them wore the leathers of mages. There were frowns on their faces as they approached, but that didn't stop them from calling to the elements.

Arawn forced himself to stand up. His arms trembled, and he looked down at them. His shirt and vest were soaked through, but it wasn't the cold that made him shudder.

A part of him actually questioned his choice to not hurt the enemy. The mages were trying to kill him, and if he was anyone but him, they would have already succeeded. They might be doing their job to protect the citizens, but they WERE actively trying to ensure his untimely demise.

"Don't—" Arawn started, but fell into another coughing fit. His throat was raw, and the more he coughed, the more itchy it felt.

'Don't falter,' he ordered himself and straightened again.

Once he was sure that everyone's attention was on him, he called to more ether than ever before and materialized all of it. The whole plaza was covered in blinding white light, and the mages exclaimed in shock and surprise.

There was fear in their voices, but for the first time, Arawn did not mind it. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Take another step, and I'll detonate all of this ether!"

His voice was hoarse from the near drowning, but it only made his threat sound more genuine. No one in the plaza moved again.