Arnesen tried to catch the cloak that Lukas was wearing as it flew out from behind him, but Arnesen's fingers fell short. Shortly after the scream and after Lukas had completely disappeared from Arnesen's sight, the townspeople crowded near. Those who were brave had their pitchforks and torches held above their heads, those more cowardly were indoors and only peeking their eyes over the windowsill. As the common folk questioned the old bully on who it was, Lukas's name leaked out.

"It was 'at old freak Lukas. 'E was always talkin' about 'imself like there was somebody wit' 'im an' actin' all strange-like… An' now I gone an' seen him pourin' col'red light from 'is 'ands like some firework show or summat." Arnesen rolled his eyes at the old bully, but those who could hear the boy listened intently. With an almost smug expression, the boy continued. "I always knew there was summat wrong wit' 'at boy from the day I laid eyes on 'im! No friends an' always alone, sulkin' 'round the streets wit' 'at strange look on 'is face. Sure enough, he learnt in witchcraft!" It was at these words that Arnesen snapped.

"Maybe if you hadn't attempted to kill him he wouldn't be so 'strange.' I suggest you watch the limits of your mouth before anymore garbage spills out of it." The crowd and the large-mouthed boy turned their attention to him immediately. "If I hadn't shown up at the right time to see you and your buddies throw him into the river, he would have died at your hands." The entire clearing was hushed now. The boy facing Arnesen smirked and walked towards Arnesen, leaning over him. His foul stench entered Arnesen's nostrils, which caused them to flare. Arnesen covered this motion by defiantly meeting the other boy's eyes head on, staring fiercely at this big coward.

In actuality, none of these "boys" were really boys at all at this point in the story, save perhaps Emil. They were more so young men than anything, but the term "boy" seems to fit them rather nicely.

The boy towering over Arnesen leaned forward ever so slightly, but just enough so that his breath was felt on Arnesen's face. "An' maybe if 'e 'ad died then an' there, we wouldn't 'ave this problem, aye?" At this remark, the crowd around them cheered. Blossoms of red anger appeared on Arnesen's cheeks, and the look of his face darkened immensely. So much so that the bully in front of Arnesen began to back away from Arnesen slightly, a hint of fear flickering in his eyes. It was at that point that Arnesen bent down and picked up a small pebble from the ground, rolling it in between his fingers.

"I wonder… how many stones did you throw at him? How much blood did you see pour from his back? How many blows to Lukas did you deliver that became black and blue in only seconds? How light was his frame as you threw him into the river?" Arnesen laughed, a dark, dangerous laugh as he stepped towards the bully slowly, looking at the rock. "How much did he fight? Oh, that's right… he didn't. He'd given up, because of you." Arnesen began to laugh, and the bully continued to back away, recognition from all those years ago finally settling in.

"'Ey, I know you! Yer that… that… ah…"

"What does it matter, my name?" Arnesen snapped, appearing to be rather insulted that his side of the conversation had been interrupted. "My name, of all things?" The clearing was not scoffing at Arnesen any longer, nor saying much of anything as they watched the two boys.

"What's wrong with this town, I ask you!" Arnesen suddenly bellowed, running his hand through his hair as he began to laugh pathetically. "What's wrong with you people?" He asked, sweeping his hands around the circle. "Why is it so vital to hunt down a witch when a person who attempted murder on an innocent child is standing unarmed and right in front of you all! How can you be so idiotic to ignore the real monsters of society?"

The crowd had no answer, and the bully ran from the scene. Arnesen stood in the middle of a circle, panting from yelling so much. When the Witch Hunters arrived at the scene the townspeople described the boy, told of the direction he had gone and followed them as they began to hunt Lukas down.

Arnesen sat, hunched against the tree that both of them had come to love, a tear running down his face. However, it soon began to rain, and at that point it became unclear as to how many tears could have gone down his face.

In a field outside of town, Lukas heard the steady hoof beats of the local Witch Hunters and added more fuel to his steps. The sun was setting, the world beginning to darken, the meadow becoming endless, the hopelessness of never escaping settling, his heart starting to beat too fast, his head spinning, the sound of horse hooves melding into his subconscious, the nightmare that would never end, this nightmare would never end, this nightmare would never...

Lukas opened his eyes slowly, groaning at the awkward position he had fell asleep in and the cricks he felt in his body as a result. While he had slept his body had fallen sideways. His ankle was throbbing slightly, and he questioned why it was swelled and bruised for a moment before remembering his tumble in the woods. Sighing, Lukas tried to fix his position, but due to the fact that his hands were tied together behind his back, this feat was made far more difficult than necessary. The memories had flashed by rapidly in his dream, but he felt as if he had relived his entire life. He smiled to himself as he muttered "my life flashed before my eyes," a saying he knew was common with those condemned to die. He had been thrown into the dungeon, and therefore had no windows to check for what time of day it was. Lukas only hoped that he wouldn't have to wait very long for his execution.

A rattling noise near the door startled him, and due to the fact that he had given up trying to lift himself back up into his sitting position, he rolled to watch the door that slowly opened, the hinges creaking. The people behind the door were not those he had been expecting, however.

Arnesen and Emil were behind the door, dressed in dark apparel. Lukas frowned, glaring at Arnesen.

"I told you to stay away," Lukas said in his usual monotone. Arnesen sighed.
"Yeah, well we didn't. Come on, let's go before the guards outside wake up." Arnesen reached into the cell, pulling a knife from his pocket and slashing the bonds that held Lukas's hands together. A sense of relief rushed through Lukas's arms as the irritating rope of his confinement was removed. The guards had not seemed to find Lukas threatening enough to tie his ankles in place, so therefore the task of freeing Lukas from the rope was quite simple.

There was still an issue, however.

Knowing Lukas, the issue was not freeing him, but getting him out. Arnesen knew that the only way that Lukas would consider moving was if it would mean a better outcome for all of them, or he would stay where he was and let all the punishment come across himself.

"If you don't hurry we'll all be caught." Emil said, throwing an impatient tone into his voice. Lukas opened his mouth to protest, but Emil spoke before Lukas had a chance to say anything.

"I'm not leaving you behind, brother. I'm not going to lose you again. Not without fighting first." Emil's gaze was stern and steady, staring at Lukas with determination. Those were the words that got Lukas to slyly sneak out of the cell and climb into the shadows Arnesen and Emil were already in.

"About time, Lukas. C'mon, let's get going before the guards outside wa–"
It was at that moment when a groan was heard from the front entrance to the chambers. Arnesen swore silently under his breath and the three took off running as quietly as they could to the nearest stairway. Arnesen's thoughts were if he was able to find a room to hide in that was closer to the exit, there was a better chance that they could escape. They began to hear heavy footsteps, walking towards where they had been. Hopefully it would take the guard awhile to realize what was happening and give the three a few more precious seconds of time. Finally they reached a back stairway, one that was normally only used in emergencies and they ran up the stairs, not caring where they wound up.

The three found themselves in a storage room full of grain and flour, a stack of beer kegs in corners as well. Arnesen pulled a keg out of place to allow only enough room to sneak behind the kegs and be hidden from view. Lukas and Emil squeezed through the narrow entrance first, Arnesen coming through last and pulling the keg back into place as he did so. There were echoes of yelling and running footsteps heard from behind the wooden barrels. The three bent down next to the wall, watching with wide eyes. The men entered the room they were in, looking around a bit before continuing to move out. When the guards were a safe distance away Arnesen heaved a heavy sigh, standing up.

"Now's our chance to leave, we can get out while they're not here," he said, his voice not so much of a whisper anymore. The other two stood up and Arnesen was pushing the same keg out again when Lukas put his hand on Arnesen's shoulder.

"Stop. Be quiet," he ordered, listening. There was the muffled sound of feet shuffling into the room.

It was the man that had been in front of Lukas's cell, assigned to guard it. The lazy oaf had followed the others after being shaken awake, knowing he would be able to pretend that he had been looking for the escapee inside without doing any work. All he would have to say was "no sign of them anywhere inside the castle," and he'd get away with his laziness while still getting paid. However, this man was desperate for money, and as pathetic as his tracking skills and motive were, if he found the criminal he might be given a reward, and therefore was not going to just let the prisoner slip by if he made the mistake of exposing where he was. The guard carried a small crossbow with him, knowing it would pose a threat to the unarmed prisoner.

Lukas, Emil and Arnesen all tucked back against the wall, but the moved keg was impossible for a person to miss, even for such a lazy man. He grunted and came over, finding the three hiding behind the barrels and recognizing the prisoner immediately.

"Back to your cell, you." He growled, and he took the three back to Lukas's original cell and tied all of them up inside.

And that was the end to an extremely climatic morning. The sun broke through the night's veil gloriously, as if it was completely ignorant of what was about to happen. The men setting up the stakes in the plaza outside smiled to one another as they constructed the wooden structures, talking about how it would be perfect weather for burning, no rain to dampen the flames. Small birds in their trees chirped joyfully, flitting from branch to branch as Lukas, Emil and Arnesen sat in their prison cell, waiting for their captors to take them outside. They sat with their backs against the walls, defeated and limp. All three knew that death was inevitable anyway, and were secretly glad that they were dying together.

When the man came to retrieve the boys from their cell, it was with great surprise that Arnesen was taken a different way than Lukas and Emil. When Arnesen was led up a staircase that had no outside exit at the top, he risked asking, "Where are you taking me?"

The guard shoved him up a flight of stairs before responding. "I'm taking you to your new cell. You're going to be held in the prison for conspiracy against his majesty," the guard's voice was deep guttural. "From there, your fate lies in the judges hands."

Arnesen muttered a soft "oh," as he tramped up the stairs, his eyes unfocused, making the task of putting one foot in front of the other difficult and wearisome.

"What of Lukas and Emil?" Arnesen asked as the guard led him across a ratchety bridge, the gateway at the other end obviously leading to a mass prison building.

Once again, the guard did not respond for quite some time. "They're to be executed. The elder for witchcraft and the younger for being blood-related. The major found the magic threatening and didn't want magical blood running amok in the city." The guard's voice was as deep as ever, but lightness was in it when these words were spoken. Once they were inside the building, the guard led Arnesen back down a flight of stairs so that they were on ground level. The guard inserted a large key into a door, and the door swung open with loud creaking coming from the hinges. "Look, I'm sorry. I really am. But there's nothing either you or I can do to change anything that's going to happen without making it worse," the guard said after Arnesen was locked in his prison cell.

In the courtyard outside, Emil was going to be tied up to the stake first. Lukas's hands were tightly bound behind his back, no sympathy found from any onlooker, after all, anyone who had come had only been looking for a good show, not a happy ending. Lukas kept his head held high however, not showing the weakness that the crowd expected to see. It was when Lukas tore his violet eyes away from the stake Emil was on that he noticed a slightly chubby woman with greying-brunette hair making her way slowly throughout the crowd.

Na.

Na came up to the escort that had been assigned to Lukas. "May I have a word with him?" The guard looked from Lukas to Na a few times before shrugging. Na sighed gratefully and ran up to Lukas, putting her arms around him. "You never could get a break, could you?" She asked softly.

Lukas furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the statement.

"My best friend's child was accused of witchcraft. The child and its mother were executed, and my friend hanged himself in the outskirts of the city. He had another child with his second wife later on, that never met its father and grew up on the streets, its mother not able to take care of it. That's why I run an orphanage, so that all the unwanted children in the streets can have a home. Maybe that's why I always loved you three so much, you reminded me of them," she said, pulling Lukas tighter to her.

"I... I didn't know that. I'm sorry," Lukas whispered in response. "I can't return your embrace, so I apologize for that as well," Lukas added, and Na gave a weak laugh. That was when the priest began reading Emil's charges. Lukas began to turn his head towards the stake, but Na reached up with her hand and held his head still.

"I would think you'd rather not watch, dearest." She said softly. She pulled back and held Lukas at shoulder length. "My, my, you sure did grow quite tall, didn't you, Lukas?" Lukas could now see the tears brimming Na's eyes.

It was at this point that he realized his eyes were brimmed with tears too. He laughed and tucked his head to the ground, it was a weak and defeated laugh, but it was a laugh. He sighed, turning his head to face the stake once more. As Na protested, Lukas turned back to her with a darkened gaze.

"I'd rather make sure he knows that he won't be alone for very long, in that spinning and endless world of death." He said this sternly, but with a gentle and carefree heart. "I've bested death time and time again, but this time death has caught me in his clutches," Lukas had his head tilted, his eyes unfocused and staring at blank space. It seemed as if the boy who had been called crazy had finally lost his last shred of sanity, but in reality Lukas had simply zoned out of focus. Suddenly he perked up and looked directly into Na's eyes, those kind eyes that he had come to relate with someone that had treated him as a mother would treat her son. "You were one of the reasons I was able to keep living, Na. Thank you. Tell Arnesen thank you as well... for everything." Lukas's voice signaled finality, and Na nodded.

"I'll let him know when I see him," she responded softly.

It was that moment, when Lukas turned around to look at the stake when Emil was brought up onto the platform. Emil's young, violet eyes searched the crowd and soon found their target; Lukas's dark blue gaze. Lukas took an over exaggerated deep breath in and out, and Emil did the action that he had been signaled to do. Emil's light-blonde, silver-looking hair fluttered as a faint breeze trickled into the courtyard.

The fire was started on a small torch, and the organizer of the lovely event raised it above his head with a smile that did not reach his wicked eyes. The crowd began to yell, most of the words Lukas picked out were "Vile!", "Evil!" or "Devil!" That is, unless they were yelling all of them. It was most likely a combination of all three, but soon the crowd synced into the usual chant of "Burn in hell!" Over and over as the crowd raged and became ever more excited. Finally, the man holding the torch flung it at Emil's feet. Lukas kept his eyes unblinking, Emil's pained eyes locked with his. A faint scream, more so a gasp than anything, came from Emil as the flames ran up his legs and torso, leaving blackened skin and ash behind.

The last Lukas saw of his brother was Emil's innocent face.

The last Emil saw of his brother were the eyes that pleaded forgiveness for Lukas's sin, for being careless enough to let them get caught.

Emil hoped, as he shut his eyes for the last time, that Lukas knew that it wasn't his fault, what had happened, and that Emil forgave him for whatever it was Lukas believed he had done wrong.

When Lukas saw Emil's eyes close, Lukas shut his own too.

Lukas's time had come, and he very well knew it too. "I guess this is it, right Na?" He felt her jump next to him at the sudden noise. She sighed.

"You say it as though I'll never see you again," she responded, grief making her voice crack.

"Well, I won't," Lukas pointed out logically. "But since you insist... I'll see you when the moon rises and the sky is clearest, tomorrow perhaps, if not tomorrow than perhaps next week. As of now, I bid you a good day, the weather does allow it." Lukas smiled, and as the guards came to tie him up to the other stake he waved backwards to her, an action that, caught by a guard's eye, resulted in a hit to the back of his head. Lukas did not care, however. His mind flashed back to his youth when he had been dragged and thrown into the river. He had to withhold himself from saying "ah, what good times those were, back when it was only children who were trying to kill me," or laughing at the irony that he had almost been killed by water to be faced with the opposite element as his final eliminator.

His wrists were freed from their bonds for a brief second before they were tied around the wooden stake that would go down in flames with him. As the priest repeated the same message of heresy he had said before Emil's burning, Lukas held his chin so that it was parallel to the ground, looking out among those who had accused him with haughty eyes. The chant began once more, harsh and guttural. Lukas anticipated the torch and braced himself, but found that the flames did not hit him. He looked at the torch, and sure enough, it was frozen in midair, the fire leaping harmlessly into the wind.

Some people screamed. They were fools to have expected anything less. Lukas made the fire jump from the torch and create a circle around himself on the platform, only allowing it to burn the wood that was farther away from his feet. He began playing with it, casting rings of fire into the air to create peculiar smoke rings that curled up and swirled. He made shapes and animals with the line of fire, and eventually cast all of the fire into the air and made it explode, much like a giant firework. The perpetrator was astounded, and slightly furious. Two more torches were thrown at Lukas's feet, but Lukas caught them both times and sent them up high as well. The fourth torch was being lit, and at this point Lukas was watching them, anticipating the throw with a large amount of focus. Just as the perpetrator was about to throw the torch an arrow flung from the crowd and landed in Lukas's shoulder.

Lukas screeched in surprise and agony as he looked at the arrow. He examined the shaft and knew from the look of his skin that poison had been coated onto the point. In a matter of seconds the effects of poison were clouding his vision and movement, so when the torch was thrown he did not stop it. Instead, he picked up a small amount of fire with his witchcraft and drew it in a circle above him before he made it plunge down and engulf him in flames.

His pain did not last very long, and soon he was gone from our world.

The window of Arnesen's cell was positioned so that he could watch the two from his cell. He gripped the bars of the windows, his heart snapping over and over. Not only this, but Arnesen's heart felt as though it had been engulfed in a vast ocean of frigid water.

A tear ran down his as face he realized that he had never told Lukas "I love you."

He curled up on the ground that night, knees brought to his chest and cried out at midnight, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust."