If Soe were to attempt to figure out who or what she was by the way the Dark Emperor looked at her, Soe would be an insect.

The Dark Emperor smiles down at her. A wide and almost kind smile, but his eyes are cold.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” he asks. It’s not a question. And is all the more terrifying for it.

He steps forward and Soe braces herself. But he just steps over her.

She sighs in relief. Soe had half expected him to step on her. Or to just kill her on the spot.

Instead, what he does is infinitely worse.

“Bring all the rebels to my throne room, “the Dark Emperor orders. For a moment, he looks senile, talking to himself.

And then an army of guards march into the prison.

Soe scrambles to get out of their way. The Dark Emperor stepped over her, but there’s no guarantee that his men would do the same.

Airin crouches behind her and places a hand on Soe’s shoulder. It trembles.

Soe feels small and useless as she watches these new, rested guards easily beat down yet another rebellion. Another rebellion that Soe can do nothing to help.

Her hand idly traces patterns on the floor besides her until it bumps into something that scraps against the ground.

Her knife.

Just a small and useless as Soe.

Two guards march up to her and Airin - a show of force, really, they don’t need two to deal with Soe - and Soe considers leaving the knife there. What use will it be in what is to come?

And Soe knows exactly what is to come.

Her eyes burn with unshed tears and Soe feels inexplicable anger at the thought of it all. She snatches up the knife and stands.

Soe grabs hold of Airin’s hand with the other, and the anger drains out of her.

It’s been a long, long day.

She’s tired.

Soe follows the guards in a daze, part of her not really believing that Airin and her are literally walking to their deaths.

And there’s nothing Soe can do to help.

--

The Dark Emperor’s Throne Room is just the previous king’s throne room that the Dark Emperor appropriated after the king’s death.

As such, the prisoners are taken to Lunaris Tower and up to the highest level, to where the throne room resides.

The walls, floors, and ceiling of the entire tower are covered in decorative sigils. Some of them are magical runes cleverly disguised as decorative trimming, no doubt. Or maybe all of them are runes.

Soe doesn’t know nearly enough about the subject to recognize them as one way or the other.

But she is walking to her death. So she will look her full.

The doors to the throne room are enormous and just as elegantly decorated as every other inch of this tower.

What a terribly pompous execution room.

Soe feels Airin squeeze her hand and suddenly, Soe is in the present. The Dark Emperor won. The king is dead. The Chosen One is dead.

Airin and Soe will be dead soon, too.

Soe’s breathing speeds up. She doesn’t want to die.

She doesn’t want Airin to die.

The prisoners are lined up neatly like soldiers. The more rebellious are chained with shimmering cords of some kind of magic. And considering how pale they look, it’s not nothing.

The Dark Emperor isn’t in the room yet, so they’re allowed some slack. Some prisoners murmur among themselves.

Airin’s hold on her hand turns painful.

Soe looks at her, into her painfully bloodshot eyes. Her hair unbrushed and clothes crumpled.

Soe probably looks just as bad.

Airin’s watery eyes scrunch up and the she asks in a wobbly tone, “P… Peace is near… isn’t it?”

Hot tears spill from Soe’s eyes in surprise at the question. Her breath catches in her throat.

What could she possibly say?

Soe opens her mouth - to reassure, somehow - but then the doors are throne open once again. She closes her mouth with an audible click.

They warily watch the door.