[a/n] There are two ways the ending can be interpreted. Bonus points if you get all three.

Finale

"On account of murder...sentenced to death." The young woman's eyes brimmed with tears as she heard the verdict. She smoothed a stray lock of crimson hair, and then pulled out a well-worn parchment, her gaze skimming the words briefly before she began to cry.

Heartwrenching sobs. Her tear-stained face tilted upwards, light dancing across her pale cheeks. She didn't attempt to hide her misery as she wept bitterly, for love, for life, for Fakir, and for everything she had lost. This was the sound of true heartbreak.

"I am innocent." She said to herself, over and over again. "I am innocent." The knot in her throat caught onto her words. "I-I-I am i-innocent!"

"Come along." The guard said from beside her. That girl had always been a little strange, murmuring about things that didn't exist and always looking at that one sheet, which she now clutched to her chest frantically. Normally, they didn't sentence people like her to death, but the guard could have sworn that her presence unsettled everyone, including him. Her wide, fearful blue eyes darted about, her nervous hands fluttering like two white doves.

She was the only one who could have committed the murder, from what he heard. There was no other explanation for it. To put it simply, her conviction and death sentence had become an easy way to close the case. Once she was dead, the matter would be resolved forever.

He put a not-ungentle hand on her back to guide her towards the loop of rope.

The red-haired girl turned to look at him. "I am innocent." She whispered, her shoulders shaking.

And in that moment, he believed her. "I know." He said. "I know."

She turned again to face the ominous rope, her hair glinting faint golden-red in the first rays of the early morning sun. Oddly, she seemed to be almost calm, her expression taking on an odd combination of resolve and melancholy. One petite step. And then another. A shuddering breath. Her slim figure cut a small silhouette against the rising sun, surrounded by wispy mauve-lavender clouds. Her hands had folded against each other, the picture of innocence.

The girl bowed her head sorrowfully, her entire form bathed in gentle light the color of wheat, as the rope was slipped around her slender, ballerina-like neck. The guard found it hard to look at her directly, for she seemed to be shimmering against the strengthening morning sun, bright and beautiful, too luminous to observe except as a glimmering specter. Her softly curling hair now glittered with the aureate fervor of the newborn day, and - did he imagine - her chin tilted upwards, her profile elegantly serene amidst the sea of golden light, almost as if in defiance of her fate.

And that barely audible, murmured word, spoken with her last breath as she stood before the glorious dawn - "Fakir."

Suddenly, her eyes widened with shock...was she dreaming? or already gone? For sprinting desperately in the distance was-

-he slowed to a halt, emerald eyes searching for her, and their gazes locked for a single instant-

The air seemed to rattle like bones, the light of the sun suddenly chilling, the clouds now stained with light like red blood, at her departure.