12. Chapter 12 (1/1)
the execution was scheduled for three o'clock the following afternoon, working around the massive cleanup efforts of the shambled city. it would be a welcome reprieved from the abundance of manual labor for all but one.
the accused sat within a lonely jail cell, abandoned by everyone, even the kingdom's own royal guard, who now lay dead in their graves. no one knew what the youth was thinking, and no one bothered to guess; all minds were filled with the joyous sight they had witnessed only the night before, as the red mercenary and the blue masked general captured their corrupted king.
"king reiniel lucifen d'autriche, heir to the throne of lucifenia, you are hereby under arrest for felony and offense to the conglomerate people of the kingdom of lucifenia"
"get your hands off of me at once, you disrespectful woman!"
the clock in the center of town soon struck the anticipated time, and a crowd of people anxiously looked on as the punishment began for their former ruler. head held high, the small figure was marched onto the wooden platform above them. waiting on the wooden beams was a gleaming blade, wickedly sharp within its wooden casing. the guillotine, in all of its terrible glory—a fit end for their sadistic king who loved it so. an officer read the charges to the assembly, the list extending far past the limits of their patience, and yet they still stood and waited for the event that was soon to come.
among the silent townspeople stood a lone figure, whose pale hair hid beneath the hood that covered his head. a fugitive of the people, he stood surrounded by his oblivious condemners, the sole vessel containing the truth of the matter. for he alone truly recognized the figure on the platform, not as the tyrannical boy who once ruled this kingdom, but as his kind and loyal servant, who was now giving up her life for this awful charade. he alone was guilty of all she was now being charged of, and yet it was she, the more innocent of them both, who was destined to die here today.
the droning from the platform soon ceased, and all but the executor and the son of evil stepped down to silently watch. the crowd, as one, held their
eaths as the blade rose higher and higher in the air over their victim's outstretched neck; then, suddenly, the cruel silence was
oken by a young voice, one that they ha not expected to make a sound. without deigning to look down at the crowd below, the supposed king raised her head and spoke in a loud, clear voice—not to beg for mercy, not to apologize for the real king's heinous crimes, but to utter a familiar phrase, one that she and her
other had coined as children, one that only the two of them knew the true meaning of. to her fugitive, hidden within the throng, to the people gathered to watch her death, she mockingly called out:
"ah, it's tea time."
fate was cruel to the boy on that day, for while those around him thought they recognized the voice to be that of the infamous rose, this child alone realized the truth that had so long remained hidden. finally, in a tragic turn of events, it had been
ought to light, carried forward by an old, almost forgotten memory. the voice was no longer of his servant alena; instead, it belonged to a girl he had said goodbye to many lifetimes ago, whom he had believed to be dead for nine long years. only, she hadn't been dead after all, but this cruel fate that had been thrust upon the both of them had gifted her with the death that was so long in coming. he could only whisper her name as the blade fell with a sharp clack, ending the life of the
avest girl he had ever known.
he remained there long after everyone else had departed, staring at the blade that had cut the one person he had ever loved off from him. the cruel blade that he had once so enjoyed, now come from whatever hellish nightmare it had first existed in to steal her away from him. quietly, into the growing darkness, he whispered one phrase, one question, that would haunt him forever.
"rilliene, was that really you..?"