With every step on stone stairs, Roxas’ limbs grew heavier. He could feel the stares of thousands weighing him down on his back. He could hear their curses and slander of him.

He wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction of him being terrified though. When the stairs ended, he was met with piercing lime eyes that belonged to scum.

“All here gather, will bear witness to the execution of Roxas Tatsu,” the now, King Vern sat upon a silver throne, glaring down with his annoying glowing green eyes at Roxas. Those eyes of royals. He only smiled back. He didn’t miss how Vern's eyebrows twitched at that.

“For treason against the throne and kingdom of Summit, you have been given the death penalty. Do you, Roxas Tatsu have anything to say?” Roxas’ mind whirled with thoughts of what to say. Everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to beg for forgiveness and admit his actions. To admit his sins and woes to the public and to submit.

But why should he care? He was a villain.

Vern watched as Roxas only smiled. He gripped his throne tighter at the calm demeanor displayed.

For so long he lived, he was taught that the throne would be his if he fought for it. That it didn’t matter what he did, he was going to be king. Honestly, he never wanted to be king. He didn’t want to sit on a golden throne, slaving away to help the kingdom. He would rather enjoy being Duke Roxas, but he has a claim to the throne.

His whole family would be killed if he didn’t take the throne. Anyone who has a claim to the throne is a threat to the royals. But even in the end, his whole family is killed anyway.

“May you burn forever with the crimes and,” before Vern could finish his sentence a booming dragon roar interrupted him.

His heart sank.

He missed Vymas. Truly her death hurt the most. She was his friend, his dragon. When he saw her corpse, it was the first time he cried in many years. She died fighting for him, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye. He clanged to her body, even when royal guards ripped him away.

He felt tears well in his eyes.

He sneakily whipped away his tears. He will be known in history as the villain who faced death with a smile.

 At least he’ll have this.

“And may you deal with dragon blood you have spilled.” Roxas glared at the King. He prayed to the gods that Vern would pay for all the blood he had spilled.

 He saw his face morph into terror as the words left his mouth. Rakon, Vern’s dragon, grew closer as he readied his attack. His scales were white fading into lilac with speckles of amethyst. He had rounded spikes all over him and wings that looked more like a butterfly’s than a dragon’s. Rakon let out a deafening roar as fire poured at his mouth. Roxas felt the heat before he saw it. At least Vern gave him a royal death.

I’ll see you soon, Vymas.

///

Sitting quickly up, Roxas’ eyes darted around the room. His body felt like he fell into the sun, but he felt no pain.

He tried to breathe in air, but his body refused. He gripped tightly on the soft fabric below trying to ground himself. His nose was assaulted with the smell of ash and burning flesh. The world around him spun as begged for his lungs to work. His lungs burned as he let his head fall onto his knees.

Crying quietly into his knees, he let out all the pain that had built up. He rocked himself as he clawed his skin to feel something.

He felt the hot tears roll down his face and the sounds of his crying. The smell of burnt clothes filled his nose. His tongue could only taste iron.

By the time Roxas could feel the world around him, his throat was hoarse. Plus, his hands were cramped from holding onto the blankets so tight.

Blinking back to reality, Roxas notices the room that he is in. It's drenched in the greys and blacks of his old room. Quickly, he jumped off the bed to look around. But when his feet felt the ground, his body felt smaller.

“How in the gods' name, did this happen,” Roxas locked eyes with his reflection of his twelve-year-old body. He traced his reflection; he still has baby fat had short black hair.

Not only was he in his old room, but he was in a younger version of himself. Internally, he cringes at the dullness of his old bedroom. He looked at his diary, noting down the date.

“543 DW? I’m fifteen years in the past? This is physically impossible, is this the dreadful afterlife?” He knew it wasn’t a dream as he felt the groves of the wood and the heat from the sun. But isn’t this too weird to be the afterlife?

He picked up a finely decorated bell, ringing it as he stared through the window. Not even a minute later, the door opens as a maid slightly bowed.

“Good morning your grace, how may I help you today,” she smiled as she noticed that Roxas’ eyes were focused on the outside. “Should I move breakfast outside, your grace?”

“That would be nice, Ren,” Roxas looked back as Ren was preparing his outfit. Her strawberry blonde was neatly tucked into a bun as she worked on choosing his outfit. He wondered what Ren would do after his death. No one in the house Tatsu, ever left his side and remained loyal until the end.

Seeing Ren alive and well was something he thought was impossible. Roxas couldn’t remember when she saw Ren so happy. She would hum under her breath as she paired outfits together. The other maids would join in too but they all should be having a spring break day. Though Ren always doesn’t take the day.

Would Vern kill them too?

“Are you all right your grace? You seem to be spacey today.”

“I guess I’m still asleep.”

Ren study him for a while before she asked, “Are you sure? You look deathly pale, and you have puffy eyes.” She hovered over him, grabbing a handkerchief she wiped away his tear tracks.  “Roxas, please you do not need to hide your pain. Everyone in Tatsu wants to make sure you are all right. So, when you’re ready, tell someone okay?” She was kneeling next to him giving him a warm smile.

He used to hate when people kneeled to talk to him. He was always short for a kid and never really grew much taller. But now he didn’t mind so much. He wrapped his hands around Ren, leaning into her warm embrace.

She didn’t mind when the hug lasted awhile. She didn’t say anything more. Finally, Roxas pulled away letting Ren pass him his clothes.

He needed to update his clothes. It was a boring simple black, coat with pops of coloured jewels. Thank the gods, that Ren always made him wear some colours.

“Today for breakfast we have smoked salmon, served with goat cheese on a cut of cucumbers. Also, with freshly baked bread with of range toppings.”

He notices how his stomach grumbles out the thought of food. He didn’t have a proper meal waiting for his execution. Okay, maybe this isn’t the afterlife. But by gods, how did he go back in time? No magic can even come close to that. Though gods could but that then begs the question of why.

Right now, he is his twelve-year-old self. Did the gods give him another chance? He could change the future. Firstly, to change this room. Because he is not living in this room any longer than he has to.

“Ren?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Can you call Lady Erin for me?” She nods as she smooths out the creases out of his clothes.

 Before he walks out of the room, he fetches a notebook as he walks to the garden. Swiftly, the other servant prepares his breakfast on the gazebo. Walking

He sat down, staring at the blank page. For all he knew this would all disappear any second. Maybe the gods decide to make him suffer some more before killing him again.

Even he if wanted to change his fate would the gods allow him to change the future? Well, if they did send him back, he might as well live a different life. He noted down bits and pieces of the future.

He knew for one thing that he didn’t want to fight for the throne. He’ll just support Vern. But he doesn’t think he’ll accept. It didn’t help how much Roxas hated Vern. He didn’t believe that he could even bring himself to give him the throne.

The only other option is to give the throne to Orion. The son of the north. As much as Roxas hated Vern, he despised Orion. Well at least Orion didn’t kill his family and then him. But by the gods, did he have to ally himself with Orion of all people? The dumb redhead who always got on his nerves.

But first thing first he needed to find Vymas.

 ////

In the north, a crimson-haired boy sat in a field of snow. He has returned fifteen years from the future. And by the gods' name does he want to paint Vern’s family in red.

Rakon Concept Art