Chapter 1 Aerona

Seagulls screeching hellishly in the sky, tradesmen shouting to sell their wares on the Great Market, one of the guards on my heels. A totally normal day in Hemchurch.

What do you do when you have no money and you are on the brink of starving? You do what you have to in order to survive, which in this case means stealing a loaf of bread from Midluth, the baker who has a market stall in the great plaza. I have never had high expectations of him, but apparently he is more observant than I thought and smart enough to call those damn watch dogs to chase after me.

As fast as my scrawny legs can run and for as long as I can keep up in my current half-starved condition, I run around the city and hide in the shadows of shady alleyways.

‘Where did that little brat go?' I hear one of them shouting as he runs past me. I knew they were not the smartest of men, but this is pathetic. I snicker and run towards Lucerne's Well, where public executions are being held almost weekly. If I have to believe the people, you have a view of it from the castle's balcony. Funny thing is, it are the townspeople who say so and I find it hard to believe they truly know how the vista is when basically none of them has ever visited the great fort on The Peak.

All around me men and women are giving me annoyed glances as I pass them in not the most polite kind of way, pushing them aside and not apologizing.

Rounding the corner unto Lucerne Road, I reach the plaza of death. Looks like I lost them for now, so I have a couple of moments to catch my breath. As I am panting heavily and feeling as if my lungs are about to burst, I notice it is not so quiet as usual in this place. A crowd is gathered around the podium, where the bodies that hung there just a few days ago are removed and now placed at the side of the square so that everyone can still see what happens when The Inquisition exacts justice and thus protects us from evil, the mutants that otherwise would have free reign.

They are heroes and I am forever grateful to them for killing the monsters that killed my ma and da, leaving me alone.

Prelate Simick sent a letter after it happened, but since I am not able to read, I had to go to the only place I could think of at the time where I would always be welcome and get help, Hilnadren's tavern that is located at Wind Gate, at the edge of the city and doorway to the plains up north.

Feeling abandoned and not understanding what it meant to lose both my parents, I made my way over there with tears in my eyes. The Shrine and Bull was packed with soldiers that came back from the most recent battle, nearby the border with the lowlands of Asnad, that still support King Borghest, the all conquering king with whom we are at war with. Although our weak monarch, Vorigrun, is not much better, since he does nothing to protect us from all the things that go bump in the night, we all want to maintain our sovereignty and answer to nobody but one of us instead of some fancy pants from Antagaesh, a three weeks travel from here.

Hilnadren noticed the sadness I had brought with me as soon as I set a step inside. She hurried over to me and comforted me until I was able to speak again. I told her what had happened to my parents on the road, they went to the market in Scarborough in the morning and promised to be back in the evening, according to the messenger that arrived the next day, which would be a few hours before I ran to my mother's friend.

She read the letter and told me what Prelate Simick had written, that I had to report to Thagrod's Orphanage, which is under the supervision of the Church of Sagroyca. I refused, said I would live in the house that was my home until I was of age and even then I would stay there. She tried to explain I could not, but I would not listen to her. I grasped the piece of paper from her hands and returned to my family abode, aggravated and crying once more.

Three days later banker Thodyl from Hemchurch Bank showed up with two guards to kick me out. With all the strength I could muster I struggled, but they succeeded and when I didn't cooperate any further when they tried to bring me to the orphanage after having found the letter, they left me behind in one of the worst parts of the city, Huguenot, expecting I would either get murdered, kidnapped, starve or worse. I have been living there ever since and here I am, somehow still surviving and able to make due to live yet another day.

An impressive man climbs up the stairs on the side of the stage. He is broad-shouldered, has full voluminous jet-black hair that is combed back and begins to be streaked with gray. He seems to be in his beginning forties, although the stern expression and scar over his right golden eye makes him appear older. Alexander Blackburn, one of The Inquisition's judges and head of a most respected family. It is tradition one of the judges attends the execution and makes sure everything goes smoothly.

Next to him stands a younger chap, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with short brown hair and clear blue eyes. Rengorv Ebbrell, son of judge Pirest Ebbrell, agent of The Inquisition and also part of an influential bloodline.

Then the executioner joins them, a tall bulky dark skinned man with a shining bald scalp and a bushy black beard. I have heard tales of this fearsome lawful killer. Rumour goes he has snapped the neck of many a criminal and suspected mutant, because he thought they were squirming for too long when being hanged from the gallows.

Some say he is a special strong kind of monster that can take the form of human, but has not a sliver of humanity within him and that is why he exercises his current job, simply because he does not care about someone's fate.

If that is true, then the king must have had a good reason to let him live or been able to tame him. Considering his personality, the latter seems very unlikely. As to what the reason would be, I do not know. All that I do know, is that he is nicknamed The Butcher of Black Coast and that he is someone you do not want to anger.

‘Bring forth the accused,' Alexander demands, standing before the mass and gesturing to the side where two guards lead a person with a sack over their head up the small steps. The unseeing criminal has seen some winters and is possibly an elder, that is all I can gather from the little that I can see from where I am standing.  Curious to witness more and to make sure the guards cannot find me, I mingle with the townsfolk and look on in anticipation.

The sack is removed and indeed reveals an old man who has at least seen sixty years of seasons if not more. Fear and pain show in his eyes, one of which is black. The Inquisition is allowed to use torture to acquire confessions, so he must have resisted, at the cost of his face. Various bruises and cuts grace his visage. Looking at his cuffed hands, I notice a finger missing on his right hand and two on his left. All his nails are pulled out too. Old b*****d must have had some fighting spirit before he came to stand here, broken and defeated.

‘Any last words?' Blackburn looks at him with disdain, not caring for whatever words this mutant has to say. None of us do. People begin to whisper among themselves that they should just get on with it and kill him.

The accused shakes his head and sighs. ‘Gerbrode help you when Sagroyca rises once again. You all have made a grave mistake by trusting the Church of the Dragon,' he shouts at us.

Liar, he is clearly delusional. The Church has done nothing but good things and if Sagroyca returns, he will cleanse this world of all that is wrong. The mutants will disappear and everything will be alright.

Rengorv takes over the guard's task and leads the man to the gallows, attaching the rope around his neck. When there is no way back, he returns to his place next to the judge, who gives The Butcher a small nod. The handle is pulled and the latch beneath the guilty feet opens. The resigned eyes see the men and women of this city for a last split second before they close and vanish. I cannot see them anymore afterwards, but those who are all the way in the front surely can.

Loud cheers and roars rise up and can be heard throughout the town.

A small boy with tanned skin and golden eyes who is about my age, ten winters though I do not know his season, stands next to me in the sea of bodies. Behind him a girl who has to be the most gorgeous one I have ever seen. She has black braided hair, emerald eyes and is wearing a beautiful beige-coloured embroidered gown. I think she is two years of seasons older than her brother. They have to be high born, otherwise she could not afford to wear those clothes and both are good-looking like those nobles.

Her jaw is clenched as she turns down her eyes, having witnessed enough death for the day and for those to come probably. The boy does seem content, happy justice is served.

‘What an awful affair,' the girl sighs, placing both hands on the boy's shoulders and pulling him close, like a mother being watchful of her child.

‘Father gave him what was coming for him,' she gets as an answer. ‘We're safe, sis.'

‘Little brother, I hope that one day that will be true. Even so, you should come to see father has a difficult job. It is not easy, protecting the land.'

‘But he kills the monsters. I want to do that too.'

‘That he does, yet his judgement is never clouded. Neither should yours ever be when you succeed him. You cannot simply kill every man that is suspected of heresy or of being a mutant.' Wise words for a lass that is not so much older than I am.

‘But I want to keep everyone safe and if I have to kill every person to do so, I will.' He sounds defiant and crosses his arms.

‘Dear, if you want to be like father, think before you act and exact justice, not slaughter.' She caresses his hair. ‘Now, let's go and await him at home.'

‘I agree with you,' I speak up before they turn away and leave. ‘I would do the same, kill every single person that endangers others.'

The siblings look at me wonder, surprised by the response. The girl's gaze turns to a slightly distrustful one whilst her brother's seems to light up, making his golden eyes appear as rich golden suns. Excitedly he pulls the sleeve of his sister’s dress. ‘See, sis? She agrees. I am not a fool.'

‘Nobody said you are a fool,' she remarks, continuing to look at me.

The boy turns to me, smiling brightly. ‘What's your name?'

‘Aerona,' I answer.

‘No last name?'

I shake my head. ‘Ain't from a fancy family like you. Simple weaver's daughter I am.'

‘Where are your parents?' The girl sounds concerned.

‘What do you think by seeing me like this? If they were still alive, I would have had something better to wear.' I gesture to my clothes that I have altered and remade to suit my body thanks to cloths and linens I stole in the past. You learn a lot of useful skills when you live on the streets and need to provide for yourself.

‘I am sorry to hear that, I truly am.' The pitying tone in her voice annoys me.

‘Whatever. A mutant killed them and the guards threw me unto the streets. However, when I am old enough, I'll join The Inquisition and kill those monsters, all of them. I won't rest until every last one of them is dead. I will help Sagroyca in his purge.'

‘What I said also applies to you then, if you mean what you say.'

‘Of course I mean it,' I snarl at her.

‘Calm down. Remember, exact justice, not slaughter.'

‘I'll see if I still know those words when I join them.' I look at the two of them with an air of arrogance, because I will not let some highborn tell me how to accomplish my goals and what to do. ‘Those high ladies, always the same. Be right, be just. Well, lassie, let me tell you, the world ain't fair. It's an eye for an eye or else you end up dead in the gutter with a slit throat or a dagger in the stomach. Not that you would know, since you likely live in Port Plaza with the rest of them nobles. Now that must be nice, a view of the sea and no wondering if you will live long enough to see another day. Scurry off to your father, he will miss his kids.' I turn my back to them, but before I can walk away there is apparently something that remains to be said.

‘I understand you may not like me, but if you need anything please come find me. I'd like to know what it is like on the other side, I want to understand you.'

‘Sure you do,' I retort sarcastically.

‘Will I see you again?' the boy asks, not minding my words, but not wanting to lose the chance of losing a peer, a potential friend.

‘Maybe you will, maybe you won't.' I spread my arms. ‘We'll see.' I really walk out this time, leaving the brother and sister staring after me.

The heavens will fall on the day I will listen to some noble. I am my own woman and take nobody's orders. Take care of yourself only, otherwise you will not survive.