Glorious night for an execution scene, wouldn't you say?
Sorry for the wait on this one - though anything is better than the previous one, amirite? - but writing your favorite character's execution is hard - especially when you have no canon material to work with.
I hope this lives up to whatever expectations you have. ENJOY!
There was nothing she could do but wait, of course. Wait for the dreadful news of Arram's arrest.
It was a pessimistic thought, but this was one thing Varice knew for certain. The only thing she knew for certain. Arram wasn't about to leave Daine behind, not when she could be – and was – in serious danger. When it came to his student he'd always been protective to the point of stupidity and incredibly rash decisions. Vaguely, she remembered the rumor that he'd turned their very own Tristan Staghorn into a tree just the year before and was suddenly very sure that Daine had to have been threatened when that occurred; Arram had once told her that he had absolutely no desire to use that magnitude of a spell, even if pressed. Her safety was the only thing that'd make him that irrational.
Briefly, Varice considered looking for Arram. But what good would that do if she did find him? Was she supposed to tell him to run? She'd told him before not to be so protective of Daine and he'd ignored her completely and those had been times when there truly had been no cause for concern. She was sure, even if her words had given him pause before they would not now. Nor could she attempt to give him shelter while he searched for his beloved student; she was too weak-willed for that. If Ozorne came to her, demanding she turn Arram over to him… well, perhaps she'd attempt to fight him first, deny any association, but she would give in. And that would make his death hurt so much worse.
The same would happen if she were to try and find Daine, herself. Indeed, she did contemplate that idea as well. None of this was the child's fault, after all.
Indeed, Varice was feeling entirely helpless. Nothing knew there, she thought bitterly. Her only hope was that maybe, just maybe, Arram would successfully find Daine and the pair would escape alive. It was a slim hope, but it was all she had to cling to.
It wasn't long before that was ripped from her as well. The news she had been dreading and expecting simultaneously reached her late that evening, hitting her like a physical punch to her gut. Arram had indeed been caught and was to be executed the following evening. He'd been hiding at the University, apparently. She wondered if Master Lindhall had been hiding him – an offense that could have the older man killed as well, but no word on a second arrest was given. Perhaps the Emperor simply didn't care; he had the man he'd wanted to get his hands on for nearly a decade.
Clearly, Ozorne would be celebrating this as a grand victory; all mages from the university, all nobles, everyone who lived in the palace was to witness the death. The Emperor wanted an audience to see, to see that no one could escape him, to see what happened when you crossed the Emperor Mage of Carthak.
Varice would have to watch him die. She dismissed the slave who brought her the news and was promptly sick. She had seen Carthaki executions before – she'd had to; Ozorne celebrated those with some level of fanfare and that was Varice's job. But she could usually close it off, concentrate on anything but what was actually occurring. That was not going to be possible this time. She could already picture his death in her mind, and knew the reality would be a hundred times worse.
She felt queasy still but there was nothing left to throw up. She simply hugged herself tight and waited for her summons. Ozorne would want her to prepare for this as well, no doubt. The death of his archenemy would certainly require preparation.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. She was vaguely aware that she had been crying several separate times since she had first heard the news. There was no summons, for which she was grateful. She was certain Ozorne would not have forgotten that Varice had been Arram's lover – when the two men had been close there were many times the three of them would spend time together; it seemed like forever ago, now. Nor did she think he would have overlooked that she had practically latched herself on to him the past few days she'd had him again. She didn't want to know what comments he might have for her regarding her ex-lover's impending death, be it pity or mockery or some combination of the two.
It would not be the first execution Varice had opposed – in fact, there were a rare few she had actually been able to talk the Emperor out of. That depended solely on his mood and the severity of the crime, however, and this was not one Varice saw him being swayed by the young woman's soft-heartedness.
Nonetheless, she knew she would have to try.
And she did. She was a mess at the execution – unable to sleep mixed with stress and fear and anger and grief. She knew this wasn't helping her case; Ozorne liked her best when she was pretty and self-composed. That was her job, to make things pretty. Usually she enjoyed that. But how could things ever be nice again?
She hadn't been asked to prepare anything resembling a feast for this. Hesitantly she had asked him why, several hours before sundown.
He smiled, which frightened her more than anything, for it looked so positively genuine and sad. "My dear, this is not a happy occasion, as well you know. Even now I wish it had not ended this way, but he left me no choice."
Liar. Varice's voice trembled, "Your Imperial Highness, if I may say so, there is still another choice. If you- if you were to show mercy to the man who betrayed you no – no one would think you weak. In fact, other nations may fear you more-" she trailed off, helplessly. She was crying now, unable to stop herself and already knowing his answer. She wasn't influential; she knew very little about politics and lacked the correct words to say to ever possibly change his mind. This was the plea of an infatuated child, positively useless.
Of course it hadn't worked. It was never going to but she needed to make that attempt, as if it would be one scrap of humanity she could always claim. Who she would serve it to, she didn't know; the gods perhaps, given the omens that surrounded an already ominous day.
The sunset on another cloudless Carthaki day and the mage Numair Salmalin, formerly Arram Draper was killed. Burnt, by the Emperor Mage, himself.
The last sight she had of the man was his glare of pure black hatred at Ozorne, a look Varice had never seen before. This was for all of his past here, she thought, but this is also for Daine. He was dying trying to save her, and he didn't even know if she was all right. He never would. It hurt too much to look at him, especially when she knew in a matter of seconds that expression would be twisted in agony. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Don't," Kaddar said, not too far from her. She looked at him as he stared blankly at the scene before them both. "He'll know if you don't look." Varice didn't know how he would, but was in no position to doubt.
And so she watched, tears streaming down her cheeks, trying to block out the image or the sound of his screams. She could not; both sight and sound would be burned into her mind for as long as she lived. After a while, she could no longer breathe – it was too painful and she wished perversely that he would just die. Her vision blurred from tears and dizziness and the whole affair seemed to blur out.
When she was thinking… well, she couldn't say clearly, but simply thinking at all, the affair was over. She stared at the charred remains of a body unable to form a coherent thought or feeling. She was shaking so hard she couldn't quite walk straight, not that she knew where we was going, or what to do when she got there. Arram was dead, and in that moment it felt as though the world was truly ending.
It never occurred for her to think that things might get worse. But then again, it never had in the past. So, of course, things did.
Some notes on this one.
Something no one ever seems to touch on is the idea that perhaps, once, Ozrone and Varice were on friendly terms. I don't exactly know how this all works out but Ozorne and Arram were bros. Varice was Arram's girl... surely this equals some sort of companionship between the two of them. I wanted it to be clear that Ozorne likes Varice. She makes him look good, if nothing else. He plays the nice guy for her, because he wants, even needs, her to be his.
Also, I wanted Ozorne not to treat Numair's death like some grand triumph like Varice thought. Ozorne's a bit messed up in the head; in a lot of cases I think he does feel betrayed. He's not lying or pretending when he calls Numair a traitor. That's just how he sees it.
Anyways, I hope this served as a good solid execution scene. Let me know! Next we get ZOMBIE DINOSAURS and Daine and Varice confrontation. We're nearing the final stretch, my dears. Thanks for bearing with me!
