A
Asuras
Guest
Original poster
It was the greatest crowd since the lifting of the Tower of Lords, and beneath its shadow it seemed as if the occasion were a follow-up to its glory. In tandem, it felt like a greater symbol of execution than the axe that sat heavy on the wooden platform in the city square; like a titanic avatar of the death of nations. As the captive's hearts felt heavy, so did their souls. What powers they had gained with the powers of a nestled goddess seemed defunct under Baelwill's skies. Whatever eldritch qualities existed within the Tower were clearly just as tangible without, and worked to suppress every aspect of their beings.
Shuffling along as a chain-gang, eight young women approached the scene of their deaths. A wide platform, seemingly built just wide enough to display all of them at once, stood at the center of a city square, where five streets greeted one another. The crowd stretched unto the horizon, with families propping children upon their shoulders to get as good a look as they could of the spectacle. The craftier citizens welcomed others into their two-story homes -for a price.
There was no physical abuse, but the threat of it felt as if it would materialize in but a moment. Only the presence of the faceless, far better-demeanored knights of Baelwill managed to stave away the potential for degeneration into madness. Still, the words that were cast upon the girls were spiteful.
Death to the gods! was a common sentiment within the crowd. A nation of the recently saved, who had no more use for the gods who deserted them in their youth, couldn't help but feel the overwhelming superiority that came with knowing that the divines were right there, beneath a mortal axe.
As they were ferried up the stairs, the crowd began to cheer even louder. Not much longer then…
The knights that were present were the many who were ordered to be there; those that avoided the event held the power to preserve their humility. Aware of the true hero of the event, that nameless knight at the top of the Tower, they would not stand before the goddesses' deaths in a manner that supposed they had any involvement. It was not their victory to witness. But security was nevertheless needed, and so there were knights present. Though they knew it was duty, and not desire that led them there, few could remove the feeling of guilt.
Among them was a young woman, identifiable only by the feminine figure she carried amidst masked and armored knights. Beneath that mask, a droplet of sweat carried down her neck. She hoped, standing there in the sea of bodies, that none would feel her nervousness, or see it in her posture. In but moments, she would do the unthinkable. Hours before, she had planned the unthinkable.
Saddled between two homes, on the outskirts of Eaganomach, Baelwill's capital city, two traitors converged. A lady knight, and a knight, both of young age and palpably quiet, hid within the alleyway's dark corners and spoke in hushed tones.
"I do not expect you to harm our brothers, but know that I will not hesitate should the need come to pass. I am unfamiliar with the deeds of Mellaphen, but if you truly desire to save your Chosen friend, you'll use every aspect of his might. Perhaps you will strengthen your bond with the knight as well," the woman said, mustering a small smile. She was Faire Miland, a lady knight of equal skill to the young man she spoke with, and bound to Emprana, the knight known as the Impostor Mage. Together, they would strive to alter the fate of the world as they knew it.
Despite the circumstances, the palpable tension that caused his spine to straighten, that caused his shoulder muscles to stiffen, the silver haired swordsman managed a smile. "I wield a bloodless sword," he said, "But my duty to my friend stands above such trifles. Have you steeled your own resolve? Kindred blood won't be the only burden we'll bear at the end of the this."
Faire looked to the ground. It was clear she wasn't sure, but she was there already; someone who could resolve to even consider their actions was already far enough to follow through. She lifted her head with a jerk. "Know that I do this not for the goddesses, their lives, or even my own. I do it for what I have witnessed, and the future I see. I'll do everything in my power to help your friend, but my heart belongs first to Baelwill…" she trailed off, "hypocritical as it may seem." Faire tightened her stance and bore upon him a gaze of unbending determination.
"Then let us be through with this treason. I can't stand in this city any longer than I must. I can feel its weight upon my shoulders," she said.
Blue eyes held that gaze momentarily, before breaking away. There was no need for words now. Only an offering to their respective patrons, and the tenacity to see their betrayal through to the end. Whether for the individual or for the nation, it mattered not.
With this one step, both began their descent to hell.
Upon the execution platform, the chosen had been lined up, and first to die was a strange sight in the far west of Baelwill; the Tanna people of Dokoshin, native to the forests on the exact opposite corner of the world, were spoken of only in imagination, and so to have such a person before them felt as if they were looking upon a myth. The Tanna girl was unlinked from her fellow chosen and urged over to the chopping block. With silver eyes, the fox-eared girl looked out upon the crowd with weariness; her eyes had yet to adjust to the brightness of the surface, having just prior been locked away in a prison for what had seemed like weeks.
Without much time to contemplate those faces looking upon her, she was forced down to her knees, and then upon the wooden block. Tears had long before already welled up beneath her eyes, due in no small part to the light. Those she failed, especially the girls who would follow her, were the last thoughts she could muster. The axe was risen with a slow, purposeful ascent before-
CLANG.
The sharp of metal upon metal, sharp and resonating, ended the chop. But no necks were stricken, only wood. The Executioner's axe lay embedded in the wooden platform just beside the girl's head, a hole bored into the flat of its head. A sword had impaled itself into the steel, binding the larger axe to the platform, as if a hunter's arrow pinning a rabbit to the forest floor.
The crowd gasped and looked about until the culprit was found...
Amidst the crowd, a lady knight held her hand extended, and at her back, a flurry of ethereal swords hovered. The lady knight had betrayed them. Faire Miland hesitated no longer, and leaped onto the platform with a mighty push of her feet, clearing a dozen rows in the crowd. With a thump, her boots met the wood, and she wasted no time in freeing the girls. The executioner had already stepped back, disarmed of his tool and bearing no will, much less skill, to face a knight of Baelwill. The ethereal swords materialized and found their way into each of the girl's chains, freeing them at least from bondage of one another. Faire extended a hand to the Tanna girl, and offered a smile.
"Come with me, all of you!" she proclaimed.
The crowd erupted, dispelled from their moment of triumph and subdued glee. Replaced now with terror and betrayal, they dispersed as best such a packed crowd could, while those lower knights present hesitated to even draw their swords. What in the Lord's names was even happening? A knight, betraying their brothers and sisters, their country? One of them seemingly resolved the inner tumultuous thoughts, and drew their weapon with a shout.
Traitor!
All at once, the rest followed suit, at least two dozen in all. Assaulted by the tide of retreating bodies, they approached the platform, some mustering that Reverence-bolstered leap, and others simply wading through by foot. There were few places to run to for the recently freed, but now, with their shackles broken and with newfound allies, hope seemed brighter than ever before.
