It was going to be a good moon, the High Justice would get to kill. Lothan dismounted his horse and mounted the steps that led to the great hall belonging to Lord Lindrel of Dindra. The two guards eyed him as he extended his ax towards them. It was his prized possession, and it was beautiful. The ash handle was just long enough for Lothan's grasp, curving subtly into the blade. No lumber ax, the blade was made for the singular purpose of death in one swing. It was wide and heavy, heavy enough so that all the executioner had to do was raise it a few feet above the neck and let it fall. Gravity and the razor sharp edge did the rest.

“Please keep this safe.” He shifted his gaze from the ax to the guards, then back to the ax, then back to the guards again. The one on the right reached forwards but Lothan held it back from his grasp. “Promise.” 

The guard frowned. “On my honor” He took the ax from Lothan's grasp.

Lothan stared for a moment, a moment that the guard found very uncomfortable, then passed through the double doors. It was a long walk to the end where Lord Lindrel was waiting.  Lothan drank in the architecture, admiring the carved marble so polished that he could see his reflection illuminated by torch flame. He smiled at the flickering fire dancing across his countenance.

The High Justice had never set foot in a place like this before. Despite the lofty language used by the courts to describe his role, executioners were not well received. The common folk hated him because he killed their friends and relatives, and the nobility hated him because he was a commoner. Lothan didn't mind, because well, he didn't really care for humanity.

His father had been the first one to notice. It happened when the dog went missing and the boy was found in the woods with blood on his hands. He had stopped being his father's son then, not that Lothan blamed the man. Finding out that your son has no feelings about taking life, or any feelings in general is quite a shock. In fact Lothan was grateful that his father had the sense and compassion to take him to the High Justice and pawn him off as an apprentice. If Lothan had not become an executioner, he probably would've ended up on the block himself.

His thoughts carried him to the end of the hall, where he stopped in front of Lord Lindrel. His Excellency sat in a wooden chair on a raised platform, both hands grasping the arm rests. Two green eyes stared out of the darkness. 

Lothan smiled. 

“You seem happy, High Justice,” the lord said.

“It is not often I enter the presence of a lord such as yourself.” Lothan sunk to a knee. Truthfully he did not know if he was showing proper etiquette, but it seemed like the right thing do.

“Hmm, awful form, wrong leg forward, but I appreciate the gesture.” Lindrel waved a hand and let Lothan stand. “I trust you have acquainted yourself with your victim.”

“Ahh yes, the murderer. Killed his neighbor who… took advantage of his daughter.”

“Correct, the vagrant claims he did not mean to kill the man. Though one does not take an ax with him if he does not mean to use it.” Lindrel rested his head on his fist and regarded the High Justice.

At the mention of an ax, Lothan pictured his own and smiled. 

No, one does not take an ax if he does not mean to use it, he thought.

“You met the man. Do you think him a liar?” Lord Lindrel's words pulled him out of his reverie.

He thought back to the man in the cell. One look was usually all it took to recognize a killer. Being one himself, he was able to recognize the same dark desire staring back if it was there. They would feign fear, try to hide it, would do so quite well in some cases; but there was no hiding it completely, and Lothan could smell the familiar stench like a wolf catching the scent of a trespasser. 

He recalled the murderer staring through the bars with wide, terrified eyes:

No, he thought, to call that man a murderer would be inaccurate. He committed a murder, but he didn't mean to and he didn't enjoy it… He's not like me.

But he didn't say that to Lindrel. “I trust His Excellency's judgment in all things. The man committed a crime, justice must be done.”

Lindrel smirked. “You are a wise man Lothan, still, I would like your opinion. You need not fear upsetting me, I am… tolerant.”

The High Justice's right eye twitched, he widened his smile. “The man does not deny he didn't do it, only he didn't mean to. A smart man would deny the crime and beg for trial… But he is an honest man.” Lothan gazed at the wall and admired the dancing shadows cast by torch flame. He looked back at Lindrel. “He did it, but he did not mean to. All the same it ends with my ax.”

Lindrel showed no sign of anger, nor even sign of life. The lord was sitting as still as stone. Only his mouth moved. “You are much more than you appear Lothan.” The executioner said nothing. “I will presently have more need of your services. Things will soon change for the better in this world, though I fear many will need to be forced to agree. Still, sacrifice is necessary for progress, and I will see this sun dawn on a better kingdom.” Lindrel's eyes flashed. The lord ceased to be a statue and leaned forward in the chair with his fist clenched. His face emerged from the shadows. The cold green eyes were set in sunken eye sockets. His hair was white and his skin was pale, but the tension held in his cheekbones and jaw made these traits noble rather than frail. “This realm has been broken for too long.” 

They remained that way, Lothan smiling and Lindrel staring into the distance. 

Finally the lord sighed and sank back into the shadows. “You will be paid well of course. A regular salary, and property, if you serve well. Do you agree?”

Lothan considered the offer. “Will I be able to work? I will not be paid to be idle.” Nor will my ax abide it.

“Yes,” Lindrel said. “There will be plenty of work for you to do.”

Lothan grinned.