"All it took was five months, and a single law, to transform what was once an oath of loyalty towards a lover to an oath of loyalty to the High Chancellor. This year, a census counted that ten percent of the population started wearing this promise. While it was a sharp increase, it was only made possible when the Regulations Ministry passed a law mandating the use of such jewelry—"

As soon as the broadcaster started talking about the officials, Lionel turned around to carry on with his day. To his dismay, he saw there was already a crowd that was tightly packed around the window. Faceless giants crammed together in a spot, all trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. While the huddle gave some warmth, he wanted to make his way out. He had to push his way through, nearly falling as he got free. After spending a few minutes to make sure all his belongings were still in place, he fixed his hat and continued on his way. As he walked, he could see each breath in the air.

His entire body felt heavy but he knew it was just a small price to pay for freedom and security. After all, he would get used to it some time or another. Reaching the small jewelry store that he owned, he slowly opened the door.

As he raised his hand, the many rings on his hands glinted in the sunlight. One stood out. A titanium ring with a small diamond in the center, and there were engravings of a feather on either side of the gem. A reminder of what he once had.

In the many years leading up to the creation of the People's Republic of Acra, Lionel was the proudest man in the skies. With large black wings that made him faster than anyone else, he spent much of his time flying. He still remembered the day when he and the rest of his kind were made to wear the rings. He did not protest. He understood what it meant for his country if a single person decided they weren't going to follow the rules. At first, the pain was unbearable. Then it started to fade away just like his strength eventually would. Within a day the feathers started to fall and his bones became too dense for him to even dare to try to lift off the ground. Before long, the little that remained of his wings were removed. He was made normal. He thought nothing of it then— he was proud to be obedient. Obedience was key. After all, if he wasn't, he'd be no different than the rebels that made his cherished city go up in flames. Even as he was weighed down by the changes that the restrictions brought, his heart felt lighter. He still felt as free as before. While he would no longer have the clouds as his company, he knew his psyche was grounded. He knew of the people who went mad and turned into mindless creatures, and he would not become one of them.

Lionel removed his large coat and hat, grateful for the warmth of the shop, before walking to his desk and sitting down, immediately getting back to work. There were many orders for him to complete and not much time to get it done. Finished orders were at the side of the desk, waiting to be delivered. Satin boxes that were once used for engagements were repurposed to carry the instruments to the people's collective freedoms. Jewels shined but were not much brighter than the sharp points that lined the insides of the rings that cradled them.

Hours passed before a familiar face came through the doors. The first thing he saw was Sascha's pained smile. It wasn't the same as it used to be. It was as wide as he remembered but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Sascha raised his hand to wave but put it down immediately. By then, Lionel noticed the reason behind his pain.

Sascha was holding a handkerchief to his right hand tightly, and a deep red was soaked through the pale fabric. Lionel could notice the shaking, and later the paleness.

Words failed him, and he ushered Sascha towards the desk while he went searching for a first aid kit.

Sascha sank into the armchair. He smiled and dropped something onto the table before leaning back into the cushions.

Lionel gave it a passing glance before looking at it once more and was shocked at what he saw. It was a bloodied digit with Sascha's silver and aquamarine ring still on it. Fear suddenly gripped at him and he felt the urge to run out from the back door.

Sascha noticed his unease.

"You feel it too, don't you. I think... I think I was found out. We have to run. Before- before they take us. You'll only be set up."

He felt like a trap had been set and Sascha was the bait. He wanted to help, the Esteemed Chancellor knew that. But he couldn't. His feet felt like they were rooted in place. There was more than just the difficulty of each movement stopping him from going anywhere.

His fears were answered by a loud crash. All he could do was turn towards the door. Sascha suddenly got to his feet but there would be another crash, this time from the rear entrance. The two were cornered.