*Trigger Warning: Death by prosecution, death by being crushed, descriptions of blood
A woman standing close to Amila had the bottom of her dress stained red, making her cry in absolute fright. The injured man was rolling on the ground in a sharp wail, clutching what was left of his right arm. The man who was trying to defend her earlier had also fallen on the ground, shaking and pale as he looked at the bloody mess. When the pool of blood neared his boots, he hastily crawled back, crashing into the people behind him and making them fall, as well.
“Watch her!”
The area fell into a riot of movement and shouts, preventing Amila from finding an exit. A group of men started circling her, blocking any possible route for escape. “Someone pin her down before she does something!”
“Stay back!” Amila cried as she clutched her hands together, making the men hesitate. Taking the chance, she pushed herself out of their circle, her actions frightening them aside, and went to the first alley she saw.
Keep it down, keep it down, keep it down , Amila chanted in her head as she ran blindly, but the threads refused to vanish. She heard scuffling behind her, and when she chanced a look back, she saw a group of people, along with a few of the city guards, after her.
An arm shot and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her behind a large building. Amila cried in alarm and attempted to kick the person behind her, but the grip on her wrist tightened.
“Let go—Alastair!” She gasped at the familiar man.
“Let’s go here,” the man told her as he pulled her through the narrow passages between buildings. When they reached a fork, Alastair put both his hands on the moss-covered wall to their side and closed his eyes, muttering in what seemed like words spoken in another language.
“What are you doing? They’re here!” Amila exclaimed as she watched Alastair remaining still even as their pursuers turned to their corner and were already meters away.
Then, green and brown lines started appearing from the moss, moving in swirls as they phased inside the wall. As more lines appeared in thin air, the color of the mosses gradually changed to a different hue. When the last lines disappeared, all the moss had turned black, with not a hint of life left.
Cracks started appearing on the walls, covering its surface in a second. Just as their pursuers were about a couple of steps away from them, the wall made a cracking sound before collapsing into large boulders on top of their pursuers. Amila stood stunned, watching as blood trickled out of the pile of rocks, some spraying to the walls, before Alastair pulled her again, running until they reached an area without people.
“I think we can stay here for a bit,” Alastair huffed. “You’re unhurt, right?”
“. . . You killed them.” Amila's voice was faint and shaky, the sight of the blood refusing to leave her. She looked at him with wide, fearful eyes, “You just killed those people.”
“They would have killed us if they got the chance,” Alastair replied. Casual, almost indifferent. “That’s what their kind has always done to our people.”
Their kind ?
She looked at the small splattering of blood on his cheek and how it contrasted with the paleness of his skin and the calm look in his eyes. She took a step back. “... You’re crazy.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Alastair caught her arm as she was walking away. “You’re not seriously going back to those people now, are you?”
Amila pulled her arm out of his grip and continued without looking back.
“Don’t you get it?! They loathe us!” Alastair shouted behind her. “You heard them! Just because of something that happened centuries ago that wasn’t even ours to control! And yet we carry the brunt of their judgment.”
She shook her head. When she continued to walk without reacting to his words, his voice started to sound desperate. “Don’t you want to stop hiding and lying to everyone and yourself?! Carrying the burden of being found out and being condemned. . . Don’t you want to have a life you can freely choose?!”
Of course I do! The words rang loud inside Amila’s mind, making her stop midway.
But of course, she does want to; since she had been a little girl who knew nothing but moving from place to place with her parents—not having a proper home—nor any friends lest they found out her secret.
“Amila.” She could hear Alastair walking closer. She pulled her hood tighter over her face. “I’ve been traveling around the continent looking for people like us; people gifted to see the threads and weave magick. I don’t want us to go back to hiding and fearing our abilities. We can make a place where we can live just as we want to. No more running, no more hiding.”
She pursed her lips. A world she wouldn’t have to run anymore. . . What kind of life would that be?
“But I can’t do that on my own. I need your help. Please, you're the first one I found who is just like me after searching for years. These people… They'll never let our kind live freely. They can't accept us; we're too different.”
She closed her eyes tightly as she willed her breathing to go back to normal. She can't… she shouldn't think. A ball… could she just... sit for a minute and tuck her head close to her chest like a ball? Calm… no fires … breath and—
Her hand unconsciously moved to the amulet hanging around her neck and shook her head, willing words out of her head. “I’m not like you,” she said to him in a low but firm voice. Her father's face is still clear in her memories despite losing him years ago. She couldn’t accept it, not when he has shown no qualm in taking others' lives like that. Besides. . .
“I have a place I need to go back to,” Amila answered.
That’s right . She still hasn’t thanked Sham and Noir properly after they took care of her weeks ago. She had been debating earlier whether she should say anything or not, but it really wouldn't be fair for them if she just went and vanished. Yeah. It’s a safe thought. No chance of fire happening or limbs splattering. Yes, she should do that.
She wondered if those two were looking frantically for her now; she wondered if the short time they spent together was enough to warrant that kind of concern. She could easily imagine Sham looking around frantically, turning around in circles with Noir hissing under his breath for her to calm down, even as he kept his eyes wide.
The clear image made a small smile appear on her face. She didn't know why, but she had an urge to find them right now.
This time, when she started walking, Alastair didn’t say anything to stop her. She stuck close to the alleys, making sure to keep her face covered whenever a city guard walked past her.
Amila managed to find a hidden corner to hide for a while as she tried to get her breathing back to normal. When she emerged, daylight was quickly replaced by night. Talks about a man having his arm blown up that afternoon had already circulated the city, as well as a description of a woman who let her know that they were looking for her. Her red hair would have made moving around difficult if it were not for the cover of the night.
She walked around looking for the city gates—anything that would look like an exit— but it seemed that Hongnam was even livelier at night than during the day, judging from the number of people on the streets.
“Quick! Everyone’s at the central plaza already!”
Amila paused to pull her hood down and turn her back from a group of passing teenagers, their steps hurried.
“Come on, you guys, hurry up! Or we’ll miss it!”
“Ow, stop pushing! And we were already late, thanks to you!”
The central plaza... she remembered someone mentioning it earlier when they were asking for directions. Plazas should have a more distinct road leading to an exit, right? Amila just pursed her lips. At the very least, she could follow those who are exiting the town and hide in the crowd.
Trying her luck, she followed the direction the teenagers went and arrived in a spacious area filled with people. There was a stone fountain at the center, where kids climbed up to get a better view of the front while their parents called for them to climb down.
Apartment buildings and stores surrounded the space. Amila stuck close to the walls as much as she could as she tried to navigate around the sea of crowds, mindful of accidentally bumping someone.
A small group of people was gathered at the very front, holding a torch, standing on a very elevated platform. The one standing in the middle was dressed nicely, gazing at the crowd as he gave a speech. Due to the distance, Amila could only hear bits and pieces of his speech.
“. . . matter. . . resolved. We. . . conducted. . . early afternoon. . . found. . . two more. . . father. . . descendent. . . Eden. . .”
Amila stopped and looked at the speaking man when she heard the word Eden. She felt something cold grasp in her chest. Again with that word.
Against her judgement, she started moving closer to the front so she could hear better.
“The decision was made with a heavy heart, but for the sake of preserving the peace and safety of the people of Hongnam—nay, for the preservation of our world even, the City Council handed over the sentence for the individuals detained. Please keep their souls, as well as Hongnam, in your prayers tonight.”
Amila only noticed the ropes hanging behind the speaker as the pulleys attached to a beam structure squeaked. She then remembered how the old man from earlier mentioned that the gallows were also on the central plaza.
Slowly, like a nightmare coming to life, the stiff bodies of three people came up from under the floor of the stage. Blood trickled down from their noses and open mouths, their face forever frozen in that state of choking horror.
Amila could quickly tell that the three were related. The brown wavy hair, the blank brown eyes, and even the look on their faces, frozen by death, were eerily similar. And then Amila realized something that had the air stuck in her throat.
The dead bodies were those of a middle-aged-looking man, a teenage boy, and a little girl who looked no older than eight.
It was the same little girl who had accidentally set her own mother on fire in a fit of a tantrum. She had looked so confused when her mother stopped moving, Amila remembered, and kept calling even as the city guards took her.
That little girl had looked too young to realize or understand what was happening. And now, that girl was hanging dead in the middle of a watching crowd.