CHAPTER II
Echoes of footsteps radiated along the glum dungeon, a whistled melody following suit. A pained scream reverberated about the cobbled build, followed by demanding voices.
Reign screwed his nose out of repulsion. Though his own work was viewed as filthy, the work of torturers had always appeared much filthier. He sent people to the afterlife with enough speed to prevent them from ever realising the blade had met their necks at all, whereas these people took pleasure in putting humans through unspeakable hurt. It was so… Disgustingly beautiful.
“Adron!” He called with his namely irritating grin plastered to his visage, “I heard you’ve got quite an interesting criminal on your hands!” Reign listened to his words bounce down the hall as he proceeded along, arms nonchalantly swaying with every step.
The cruel yelling was brought to a halt and instead replaced with an exclaimed, “Reign?”
The executioner turned the corner to spot the panting Adron. He swept his mouse-brown hair out of his gaze and built up a teethy smile, “Reign! Just the freak I was hoping to see!” His voice sounded rather youthful despite being older than the blonde man. Adron tended to carry that near-childish charm about him.
Adron swiftly snatched Reign by the wrist and pulled him over to the bars forming the cell, ecstasy lacing his words as he continued, “That bratty prince brought down a Ferhynian spy- personally, might I add!” He exclaimed as he fumbled with the rusting keys, “Managed to hide behind the palace walls as a humble maid, he says.”
The executioner shouldered the door open, screwing his nose upon hearing the fox-like shriek from the worn hinges. The Verhis government clearly had other ideas for whatever taxes the people were paying. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a few coins fixing up this dungeon, Reign thought spitefully like a troubled mother.
He pocketed his gloved hands as he laid eyes on the girl. She laid, facing away from the two, on bloodied straw. Despite being in such a state, he couldn’t help but distinguish her determined spirit. After all, after spending so long taking away ‘spirits’, he grew accustomed to them. Some reeked of pathetic defeat, whereas others burned with passion. He found that the most terrifying of the sort were those that were filled with utter loathing for the nation.
“She’ll be my thousandth execution then,” He announced decidedly, glancing over his shoulder to meet Adron’s amber optics, “I’ll part her from this world- don’t allow any lesser executioners try to take this one,” A sigh escaped his lips before he continued, “Far too many of them in the capital nowadays, all trying to challenge my position.”
A sly grin crept across Adron’s visage, “I was hoping you’d say that, but I’m sure you understand the gravity of her death.”
Reign cocked a brow, “D’you think I haven’t realised that? A whole war started by,” He pointed at his chest with his thumbs, “Me! A criminal executioner, detested by the nation!”
“… Ferhys won’t care for my death specifically. You Verhynians are as idiotic as they say.” Her tone pounded with confidence, though strain tugged at her chords.
Adron’s prior cocky countenance soured, followed by Reign’s hum of confusion.
“Eh? I don’t remember you getting permission to speak,” The executioner snapped and knocked his knuckles against a bar, “D’you think I’ll buy that? They sent you here to die, did they?” He turned back to Adron and nodded his head in her direction, “Teach her how to shut up or I might just make her death painful.” He barked to the older man before casting one last glance to the wounded convict.
Adron leaned against the stonework wall; arms crossed
across his chest as he observed her, “Consider it done!” A playful smirk
crossed his countenance before he lightly pushed himself off the wall.
“You’re not from here.” Her voice met their ears yet again.
Reign cocked a brow out of irritation, “It appears we have a fortune-teller. I’ll leave you to have your fun, Adron.” He spat through the cell bars, eyeing her limp figure with contempt. Sorry little thing.
***
Synn watched as the blood trailed along the twists and turns imprinted on the rocky ground. A scowl met his visage as he averted his green-eyed gaze, only to catch sight of a lean man approaching him. The stranger was dressed in the attire of a nobleman, though a little abstract due to the lack of ruffles. A crimson gem planted at the centre of his black ribbon-tie glistened under the late sun, effortlessly catching the attention of on-lookers.
“Father,” His voice was melodic and soothing to the ear, however laced with a serpent-like undertone. “I am truly honoured to meet you, regrettably at an executioner’s stage, but a meeting nonetheless.” The odd man bowed, one hand gestured behind himself and the other crossing his abdomen.
“…Ah.” Synn answered with a straight face, causing the strange nobleman’s smile to falter for a second, “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with you, Lord.”
The nobleman leaned his lower back against the edge of the wooden frame that was that damned executioner’s beloved, his slim arms crossed over his chest.
“That’s understandable! I have only recently taken over as Duke, after all,” He gave a soft laugh, almost like a rhythm to Synn’s ears before continuing. “I am Lord Aethelwine of Etzihalle.”
The priest’s eyes sparked with enlightenment. He reached out with nimble hands to shake that of Lord Aethelwine’s, “Forgive me, Lord. I was rather familiar with your father,” The corners of his pale lips twitched upwards to form a faint smile.
Aethelwine’s cheery expression returned at its peak.
“Yes! I believe we once met when I was much younger,” The Duke looked down at his hand before raising his gaze to land on the stage. “I assume you too were called. The King himself requests our presence— I’m truthfully nervous.” He admitted with an insouciant manner.
Erratic clanging of bells cut their conversation short, and both men raised their heads. Synn cleared his throat and gestured with the swaying of his sleeves to the entrance, “Shall we go together?”
Aethelwine smiled— something he did frequently, Synn noted— and nodded his head with a grateful air, “I appreciate it, Father.”
The two proceeded through the great, black-fenced gates to enter the palace.
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