"Kill that bastard! Send him to the fucking Gods above!"
The screams of the crowd were incomprehensibly horrifying. He was dragged out to the gallows, his death going to be a thing for a proper audience who craved it. Two men had each taken his upper arm, forcing him to walk across the pathway up to the stage. He was shaking. Breathless, nearly. His eyes widened as they revealed the colors of darkness. His lips, slightly parted as his short messy red hair just hung back more so to the right. His face was stricken of all things calm and collected, the young man in all black being forced to step onto the wood of the gallows, then grunting as the back of his leg was kicked to get him on his knees. Which, he panted out an exhale as his eyes scrolled amongst all the people. His hands were bound by tight chains. His hands were clenched into tight fists as his brows furrowed a bit as he flinched, being met with a stone hitting him directly in the cheek. He winced a bit, glaring at the woman who threw it at him. Then, a man stepped out before the gallows, passing the knights, an overweight and short "gentleman" stood at the end of the stage, dressed finely with receding dark hair slicked back with a small beard and these dark eyes to match as he soon smiled and raised his hands up high in the air as the crowd stopped talking soon thereafter.
"My friends!" He called out, having a booming deep voice.
"Today we gather on a glorious day! Not because of death, but because of life. Lives we will save by righting a wrong to Savencrone." He spoke loudly to them all.
He had begun pacing in front of the fellow Savencroner of his as he spoke to the crowd.
"Father, please-" Wrafe called out, his voice hoarse from so many other things he wouldn't dare utter.
Then, the man he called his father quickly turned, glaring down at him with an angered expression.
"Shut up, boy! Do not DARE call me that!" He yelled.
Then, he plucked a dagger from his hip as he had grabbed the son he denied by the throat and put the tip of the dagger to his eye. They stared at each other, Wrafe truly in nothing but fear and anxiousness before he was met with the worst session of agonizing torture yet. A scream of pure pain went about the cheering crowd to where blood was soon to come from the one side of his face. Where then, streams of blood poured down the side of his face and down his chin, even to the corner of his mouth.
There was almost no greater pain that he had felt then his eye being stabbed and gouged out by a vicious hand grinding the blade in. To the point he screamed and struggled so severely that it only made it worse. Then, the blade was ripped out from his socket before the poor redhead was shoved back into the flooring. Which, he was left to simply curl up and yell in his enforced torture. A punishment for being the competition. An unwanted rivalry in the family had even caused such a merciless execution to be brought to fruition.
"Stand him up!" The man ordered, bringing out a cloth from his side as the knights forced him to his feet.
Upon doing so, Wrafe's father went behind him and tied the cloth around his head. Just over his cut up eye. Making him cry out more as streams of tears went down one side of his face as blood streamed down the other. This was what true horror was to be. Soon, Gilon, his father, raised his hand up to have the knights move away. Which, they did so. He could barely keep himself up. His cries quietened to slight panting as his good eye closed. He stood there, lowering his hands in front of himself as his hands loosened to rest normally. Completely as such. Then, the fat man known as his father had stepped passed him. Gesturing to the swordsman next to Wrafe, a noble fresh faced knight named Talon took out his sword. It was a bastard sword to behead the redhead.
"Today, my people, I bring you a man who was once my prized child. Now, but a man who has committed crimes so atrocious that I dare not speak of them. But… You all know. And you all know we must take it upon ourselves to take it upon ourselves." Gilon spoke quite passionately, albeit ill of his son.
Such a darkness within him, he thought to himself. He wondered how a man could be so evil. Then, he figured he should've known his father was such a bastard soul.
"And, to repent for my failure in protecting my beloved wife and her daughter, I will pay with his life!" He added, yelling out to the crowd.
Wrafe's head lowered a little as he felt his father's glare upon him. Gilon simply looked at a reluctant Talon before the knight drew his sword from his back. With that being said, the older Noble had raised his hand up.
Wrafe heard them. The cheering on for his death. He could practically feel the relief and glee that his father felt as he was to die. The very thought made him bitter. Another rock hit him. No… It made him angry. After everything he's done, tried to do for this place. His jaw clenched together as his teeth gritted and his breaths began to pick up. With the Savencroner's panting, his head raised a little as his hearing began to null the cheering out of the other citizens as he opened his eye, his dark eye that stared straight ahead, widening open. His lips parted a little as his teeth gritted together as his head could see to be visibly shaking as his brow furrowed as his expression had seemingly changed to one of a man that had something break in him.
"Now!" Gilon demanded, throwing his hand down in signal to Talon.
Then, the knight reeled his sword back, deciding to make this a powerful strike. Quick and clean. He thrust his sword across the air, colliding the blade against the back of his neck. But… A burst of gray, a cloud of it suddenly flowed in front of the prisoner. A cloud dust that surrounded his head but began to clear. Talon was left in shock, absolute staggering shock. He saw the blade was no longer there. But turned to dust. Gilon's eyes widened a bit as his mouth soon went agape. From the dust that cleared on that side of his face, the old Nobleman saw as his son's eye came to show this difference. This vibrant yellow color. With black jagged lines around his eyes. Then, his appearance was no longer hidden by dust. It was just him. Wrafe's fingers twitched as they began to redden, then crackle as his sleeves began to burn. The same for all his skin. It began to have these jagged black lines before he raised his head up, taking this sudden extremely deep breath into his lungs. Then, he reeled forward as he released this loud, heard by all cry. A scream and yell that filled the entire area as something else came with it. Fire.
Fire that seemingly was breathed out as it shot out into and passed all the ones in front of him. It hit Gilon to the point his body was staggered off the gallows with his body being engulfed in a terrifying amount of fire that raged and roared far into the crowd. He yelled the bright yellow and orange and red flames upon the entire crowd. Being such a powerful beam of fire that it shot out past the crowd and into the walls of the Kingdom. There was nothing but these screams from them all. Pure, unbridled pain. Wrafe produced this fire from himself as long as he could tell with his voice having this powerful boom to it you couldn't even hear from the untamed fires. The silhouettes of people burned away to fall as every single soul there was touched by the flames. They were either quickly killed or mercilessly crippled with a new form of torment no one should be familiar with. Sorcery was destructive and unwelcomed in this Kingdom. Yet, here he was. An unseen sorcerer, forever to be unseen by them due to the perishing vision of their demise. He accepted it. What he could do. And, his grievances were pushed upon people who were not empathetic to him. Nor to any of each other. As many souls that were taken that day, the one known as the Red Dragon of Savencrone had earned his name from slaughter. One that wouldn't be forgotten.
With the Valerian in her time, her journey to find the Savencroner.
"My form isn't sloppy. It's practiced."
She spoke, putting a hand on her hip as she raised her sheathed sword up to show her point. Which was simply her word.
"Your form is also flawed. I understand your Father was the Empire's greatest swordsman of his time, but Salynthra doesn't have a greatest swordsman. We have a lot who succeed in mastering it, those few who don't." The Elf retorted.
Davina scoffed.
"I've fought a Jokul-Dog and plenty of the undead." She reasoned, lowering her blade.
This Elf, he was tall and somewhat muscular. He was probably the most well built one here. Good mixture between agile looking and fit. A warrior from the floating Kingdom no doubt. Yet, for some reason, here he was in Orzonfol. He had his arms crossed, soon to raise a brow at the human woman.
"That is no achievement in our eyes." He stated, quite bluntly.
She sighed. What a gift, being a dead warrior was. Having been able to wield such power that she had no idea how to access, even if she could. She had come to terms to accept that she was used as a vessel. As she always was, to meet another goal for someone else. She hasn't been able to wield the power she did ever since she fought the Emperor and Wrafe. As soon as that necklace left her, she felt powerless. Yet…She somehow survived. Which puzzled her upon the deceitful spirit saying otherwise if it left her neck.
"Here, let us fight then. Nothing major, just a friendly spar." She said, soon to draw her sword and toss the sheath aside. Her shield was set aside a decent while ago.
The Elf sighed this time.
"I have seen you fight. You're vicious. Style isn't important over form and survival." He said, beginning to walk towards her, dropping his arms as he came up to the woman.
To whom, lowered her blade as she had looked quite offended.
"I'm not one for dancing. My father's form was specifically for survival." She said, defensively.
"Your father's form cared for aggression. Agile fighters, such as yourself. I can tell he got his form from those who are smaller in stature and need to strike powerful blows. But, you're not human, Valerian. You can master power and agility even beyond what your Empire considers to be masterful." He said.
"I'm not small…" She muttered, eyeing to the side with a bitter look.
"Strike me." He said.
She looked at him with a brow raised.
"I almost defeated the ones who gaurded Orzonfol." She said, albeit she knew she had quite a lot of trouble.
"If you can "almost" defeat a simple guardian of one's home, you could never beat a Salynthrian knight." He pointed out.
"Now strike me." He said in a more demanding way.
She scoffed again, shaking her head as she looked to the side. Perhaps she'd see this Elf out.
"As you wish, Haedron. Don't be angry with me if I scratch you." She said, purposely sounding arrogant for the sake of the mood.
Which, Haedron of Orzonfol had not minded the mood. He simply smiled and nodded with a chuckle.
"I'd be surprised if you could even touch my shadow." He remarked.
She found it in good taste to jest with him as she had soon approached. She twirled her blade around loosely. That was before she suddenly picked up the pace and swung her sword quite fast through the air with pleasant precision for his arm. Which, Haedron was able to easily move back, with Davina not being surprised with how much he smack talked. She immediately stepped forward and thrust her blade just directly forward to push him further. Surprisingly enough, he slapped the palm of his hand quite hard into the side of the blade where it went to the side. She moved with it, spinning on her heel as she gripped the handle with her other hand at the mid section with it twirling to be upright then came slamming down upon the Elf. To whom, was able to catch her by the wrists, despite how he was quite a ways away. It surprised her, with how fast she could be compared to an average human. The Elf had it over her.
"See? Your form is about being the attacker. Pressure. How well could you handle pressure?" He asked.
All before she bucked her leg upwards, kneeing him in the stomach quite easily with a grunt coming from him before she yanked her arms away, then brought the blade back and then up, bringing a slash from the ground as the leaves of the ground followed through the air from the motion of her sword. Even with the hit, Haedron had then jerked his body forward, catching her wrists again, this time hitting the palm of his hand into her chest plate to successfully push her back. Which, she went back a few steps. She ran a hand through her black mess of hair to push it back as she looked at him with a plain expression, somewhat impressed with how much faster he was then he seemed. He then put a hand over his stomach, furrowing his brows a bit.
"I meant strike with your sword." He said, clearly not being too fond of the dull ache in his torso now.
She shrugged, coyly playing her ignorance.
"I don't know what you could've meant." She responded.
He smirked. Before it went away.
"You freed me and my people. Something I never rightly thought a human would do. I won't forget it, but…" As he spoke, her smile began to die down due to the seriousness.
"Orzonfol, Galynfol, Berathton, Xyllus- All of these are places closer to your land than Salynthra." He said, lowering his hand as he had approached her. Her subtle smile had soon formed a straight line as she had listened to him.
"There is a word you work for the Queen now." He stated, honestly at that.
"My business spread fast." She retorted.
"It often does when it threatens our home." Haedron said, looking a bit more stern with his look.
Which made her brows furrow a bit. He couldn't mean- No, he couldn't. He knew she wasn't his enemy. He had to have.
"I don't want war with your people. I have enough problems to sort out just with someone close to me. I no longer serve an Empire." She said, attempting to sternly state her position with an assurance of her stance with Elvenkind.
He shook his head.
"I speak not of you, Valerian. I speak of the Queen. I am saying, more clearly, that we are the front line if a war came to our people. Salynthrian's have a floating hold while we remain here. I understand business within discretion. But, discretion often comes undone at the price of a great many's safety. Whatever your business is with the Queen, I want to know it won't affect us. That… A war won't be coming from your people from what she did." Their ruler, he meant obviously.
Word did travel fast indeed. She stared at him, understanding now what she meant. He wished to know if war was to come. She didn't want to tell him that it would be, especially since she didn't know why Casoria was suddenly not pretending to be the Emperor still. Although, she reasoned it was because people saw her true form. She lowered the sword, soon to stab it in the ground a little.
"If there is one thing I can say about us humans," She began.
"We can be your most loyal or the most merciless with a grudge. The truth is, your Queen ran a corrupt Empire and didn't make it any better. I stand to believe that they already have one of the King's about to take the throne, which will be dependent on him, whoever this King is, to go to war." She explained.
"If there is one thing I know about Nords… They aren't ones to bow to another." She answered as honestly as she could.
Which, he nodded.
"I… See." He muttered, unsure of how to take it to himself.
"Hey," The Valerian snapped his attention back to her.
"The witch you have here? She cares not for her own race. Hell, she believes she's her own kind. She can hide this town with an illusion."
She spoke of how Brytwood was hidden so very well. And, if it wasn't for the fact that some magic from servants of nature, such as witches, won't work on beings who have passed from the world already, she never would've found it again.
"I will be sure to ask." Haedron mentioned.
She nodded.
"Where are you going next, if I may ask?" The Elf spoke as he had gone off to lean against one of the trees.
Her head followed him for a second before turning away to kneel down and pick up her sheath, strapping it to her side as she then sheathed her blade into it.
"My home." She stated, not sounding all too fond of it.
"Valeria?" He asked, a brow raising.
She nodded.
"Yes."
The Elf hummed under his breath a bit. What a surprise it was, when she heard where the Savencroner went. She truly wondered why he went there, if he was there at all.
"I sense something in you, Valerian. You're a bit different from all the other humans I've met." He said, randomly.
Her head turned as her brows furrowed a bit in curiosity.
"In what sense?" She asked.
"Well, there's a reason your kind went extinct. Because the Gods didn't see it fit during the Fourth War. As long ago as it was, they must see something good in you if they allowed you to come to be." He said.
She almost smiled a little yet again. But, then it faded. What a silly thought. Although she considered the Elf ignorant, it wasn't his fault.
"I'm afraid the Gods didn't bring me back. But, rather a disgraceful phantom. A demon, probably. I never had much faith in the God's and the Evil." She said, somberly as she held her hand upon the handle of her blade casually.
Haedron stared at her, his brows furrowing as he nodded in understanding.
"I once thought that, too. I was young and ignorant. Even though your faith or thoughts aren't placed in the God's, their faith is always put towards you. Sometimes, it takes a demon to raise a hero. They may not even know it, too. Perhaps it was in the Makers' plan." He explained his passionate and quite kind insight on this.
However, the Valerian wasn't turned to agree. She was only turned to accept such a kind way of thinking to consider on a happier day. One that she didn't really think would come soon. She looked down a bit as he spoke, eyeing the little insect crawl beside her boot.
"I'm allegedly forever young and always ignorant of the tragedy around me until it's too late." She said, raising her head to then look at him with a forced straight look.
"My story would never be worth telling. Because it's just- These many pages of every turn I take being a deceitful man smiling at me behind a mask of a friendly face. Who would want to read a story of a hero who was nothing but an ordinary fool taken advantage of?" She asked, her lips forming a frown as those silver eyes bled with the sad emotion that she felt just from speaking.
He merely stared at her with empathy for the poor girl. However, he wasn't quiet for very long.
"The most worthy story to read is the one where an ordinary woman who lives in a world of tragedy rises above it as the epitome of heart. Even with the sadness I see in your soul, Davina of Valeria, I see that there is no empty vessel before me. Just someone who needs to be a bit wiser." He shook his head at his last statement.
It made her feel a spark of happiness. One person who saw her as a woman with her soul intact. Even Ksenia's glare and mention of her being different didn't stir her anymore. In that moment, as Haedron spoke his rather prophetic words, she felt good. Better than she had in awhile.
"Thank you." Is all she said to him, nodding her head to him.
She truly never has met a stranger who was so truly human to her. Yet, it was an elf. Oh, but that made no difference, that she knew. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, soon to look up at the sky and take a deep breath as she blinked a couple of times. She squinted, just a little. The sun would be setting yet again pretty soon. There was no other day she could be leaving. Not the next morrow, not the week later or the fortnight. No, it had to be tonight.
"You must leave now, I presume?" He spoke again, breaking the silence.
She looked at him again, soon to nod.
"I do." She said.
"I wish you well then. Trying to lift your spirit is the least I can do." He said.
Leaning off the tree, soon to turn as he raised a hand over his chest and bowed a little. She did the same.
"Also, I hope you'll return to come learn our ways of combat. For an "allegedly forever young" warrior, a few new tricks wouldn't hurt." He said, turning and walking away as he had raised a hand back to wave her off.
"Someday soon, maybe." She muttered.
Then, she'd be off to Valeria before the sun would set.