The Great Square of Aethelgard was colder than usual. Grey clouds choked the sky, as if refusing to let the sun witness what was about to happen. Thousands had gathered, yet the silence was so heavy it felt like a collective tomb.
The sound of my knees hitting the marble floor echoed in my skull. My hands were bound behind my back with a coarse, thick rope that bit into my skin. They didn't allow me to raise my head, but I knew those boots.
My father's boots. Silas. The most loyal blade of the Kingdom.
"Look at me," a voice commanded. It came from above, from the throne.
The King's voice didn't sound human; it was a winter wind's whisper. I slowly raised my gaze. The King sat upon his massive stone throne as if he were not part of this world. His pale face was not a mask of justice, but of unyielding authority.
"Laws," the King said, trailing his fingers along the edge of the throne. "They are not merely ink on parchment. They are the only thing separating us from the wild. To release a beast, a creature declared an enemy of the Crown... This is not a mistake, son of Silas. This is a declaration of war against the established order."
I remained silent. There was no point in answering. In this world, being right was never enough to stay alive. Rules were larger than human conscience.
"Execution," the King whispered.
A ripple went through the crowd. No one was surprised. They were all there to see the blood of a sacrifice. Authority is only truly felt when someone's life is being taken away.
That was when Silas, my father, stepped forward. He removed his helmet; every line on his face was a map of the years and wars he had sacrificed for the Kingdom. He knelt. But this was not a plea. This was an executioner accepting his duty.
"My Liege," my father said. His voice was steady, but deep inside, somewhere far beneath the surface, there was the sound of breaking metal. "My son's blood may be tainted. It is my lineage that broke the law. Allow me to cleanse this stain with my own hands. My loyalty to the Crown is older than my fatherhood. Let me take him to the forest. Deep among the roots, where no one can see... Let me execute justice."
The King smiled. It was a smile colder than a headstone.
"A father's last mercy is to be his son's executioner," the King declared. "Take them. But heed this... The Royal Guards will oversee every second of this execution. Loyalty is only proven before witnesses."
[Location: The Forests of Aethelgard - Midnight]
The forest swallowed us like a silent accomplice. Mist drifted between the massive pines like ghosts. The ropes around my wrists were cutting deep, but that wasn't the pain I was focused on.
Every step my father took behind me felt like a sledgehammer hitting my chest. Right behind us were three Silver Guards. Their armor glittered in the moonlight like the teeth of a monster. They hadn't come for justice. They were there to see if Silas—the Kingdom's most loyal hound—would actually slaughter his own pup.
"Far enough," one of the guards said. His voice was impatient. "Come on, Silas. Don't keep the King's justice waiting."
My father stopped. I stopped too. The mist rose to our knees.
"Kneel," my father said. His voice was so distant it felt as if he were speaking to a foreign corpse.
I knelt. The dampness of the earth seeped into my kneecaps. Was this what death smelled like? Wet soil and ancient moss.
"Father," I said, without turning my head. "I would do it all again. That creature... it just wanted to live. Just like us."
"Quiet," he said. He drew his sword. Shing. That sound silenced every bird in the forest. "This world considers mercy a weakness. And weakness, in these lands, is a death sentence. Everyone serves a master, my son. I... I am the guardian of this Kingdom. And guardians hold no room for love."
The guards stepped closer. They didn't draw their swords, but their hands were on their hilts. Their eyes never left my father's hands.
Silas raised the blade. The moonlight froze upon the sharp edge. I could hear his breathing. Heavy, irregular, and shattered.
"Don't look," he roared.
The sword cut through the air. I heard the wind, then felt the searing cold of metal on my skin. Silas had swung as if to take my head, but in the final millisecond, I felt the impossible, nearly miraculous shift in his wrist.
The blade missed my neck and slid just over my ribs, across my chest. A deep gash... but it didn't touch my heart. It didn't shred my lungs. I only felt the hot rush of blood spilling onto the earth.
Pain struck my mind like a bolt of lightning. My breath left me. As my vision darkened, I collapsed into the mud.
"It is done," Silas's voice said, sounding as if it were miles away. "The earth has accepted the traitor. I have no son anymore."
I heard one of the guards chuckle. "Truly as loyal as they say, Silas. You didn't hesitate for a second to spill your own blood."
"We're leaving," my father said.
The sound of boots faded. The clinking of metal armor disappeared into the mist. What remained was the silence of a father abandoning his son to death.
My blood was warming the moss beneath me. My consciousness flickered like a candle flame. My father hadn't killed me; but his mercy was so heavy I wasn't sure if I was still alive. The laws of the Kingdom ended here. The eyes of the guards were blind here.
I couldn't open my eyes. The darkness was not just a color; it was a weight pressing down on me. In the final fragments of my mind, there was only one thought: The day this world killed me, it gave birth to its greatest enemy.
Darkness swallowed everything. Silence became the final verdict.