7 Vienice Aramon

_Vienice Aramon_

    Vienice was marched down the hallway, and for some reason he couldn't manage to muster up any sort of anxiety. He felt nothing but perhaps a faint sense of melancholy as the passed by cell after cell of empty or silent condemned men. It was an odd feeling to have in this situation, but he supposed he didn't often feel much... he especially didn't have much to feel now. Everyone he'd ever known was dead. He would have feared death if not for the fact that he seemingly couldn't die- or so that is what he assumed. There were plenty of ways to die so he couldn't count himself too lucky.

     He was to walk a few paces ahead of the guard, as not to cause him any trouble. The sword he had with him could no doubt cut his head off again and then he would be out of commission for quite some time. He had no intention of causing any trouble though. He supposed he could understand the caution. Anyone would be weary of a boy who decimated an entire village and then walked away, headless, from an execution block.

    Infact, Vienice wondered why there was only one man with him now, and not more. If the kid was able to take out an entire city, shouldn't there be more than one person walking him to his trial? Ordinary men had more. "Are we really heading to my trial?" He asked out of the blue, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

    The man seemed a bit perplexed at the question until he realized the boy's suspicions. "Yes. I personally asked to escort ya alone."

    "Why? Come to think of it, I haven't seen you around here before- yet you act like you belong."

    He chuckled now, his voice echoing across the hallways as the took a turn around the dimly lit corner into another hallway. "I wanted to meet ya." He said simply.

    Vienice narrowed his eyes and looked behind him at the man. "Eyes forward, keep walking," The man commanded him.

    He did as he was told, looking back in front of him. "So you are not from around here then? Your accent differs slightly." He pointed out.

    "Started off a peasant, I did. Worked my way up. Worked here for a while."

    "For a while," Vienice pointed out.

    "Yer observant aren't ya?"

Vienice didn't respond to that, but merely asked something else instead. "And why did you want to meet me?"

"The notorious red devil they are callin' yew. Said you murdered a whole village- even yer own family."

"They did say that, huh?"

The man hummed, went silent for a moment, then spoke again. "Did ye not?"

"I don't know." He answered simply, but this seemed to miff the guard as they walked on.

"What do ya mean ye don't know? Did ya or did ya not?"

"I do not know what happened. It's all a bur. If I had to guess, I think I did." he said monotonously.

"Don't say it so lightly," The man warned.

Vienice shrugged. "What is done is done. I came to, covered in blood, in a panic. Never been so terrified in my life. After that... I suppose I just accepted it."

"Ye don't make much of a compelling case for a good sentence..."

"I don't deserve a good sentence. If not because I did it, then because I was the only one to walk away." He said simply.

"Yer an odd fellow," the man said now, seemingly at a loss for words.

A long moment of silence followed before Vienice spoke up again. "Do you believe it?" He asked the man.

"Believe what?"

    "What I have done. What they say I did."

The man hummed, like he had to stop and consider it for a moment before he spoke again. "I know what I hear, and I know what I see. I do not believe everything I am told so easily, and I am cautious about what it is I think I see."

"You are a smart man then. Spoken like a true peasant."

The guard scoffed at the word used to describe him. "Former peasant." He corrected. The rest of their walk was followed in silence, but Vienice did not mind. It was a peaceful silence that allowed him to collect his thoughts.

_____

    The throne room was elaborate, though he was here for the second time now, he couldn't help but admire the delicately carved stone pillars, the golden wall trimmings, and other expensive things like statues and paintings. All of it had been done by hand. He wondered how many laborious hours had been spent etching in the painstaking details. Had it been worth it?

    His eyes didn't bother with any of the people around him as he was led up to his stand. He knew that if he focused on anyone for too long, he would start analyzing him. A bad habit he had. With analysis came questions.. Other feelings followed but he did not like to give them any mind. If he gave them the attention they wanted he feared that they would fester and grow. A scary thought.

    So he kept his eyes moving about the room, marveling at all the details he could before his shackles were chained to the stand.He looked at his dirty, beat up hands before his violet eyes came to rest, looking up into the king's before him. The last time he had been in the throne room, someone else had sat before him and judged. He supposed not dying when told to did warrant the king's judgement. The standing king stared him right back in the eyes before he took a seat at his throne. The rest of the room followed, sitting after he had. "Do you know why you are called fourth here today?" The man's voice boomed across the great hall. Vienice couldn't help but glance back at all the witnesses lined up behind him, watching his trial with curious eyes. None were kind.

    He looked back up at the king as he answered. "Because I still breath?" he asked in a calm manner. He couldn't help but take in the man's appearance. He was thin, but draped in thick furs, some dyed and some natural. They all had the same in common though; they were, to no one's surprise, highly expensive. He noticed the way the man's eyes crinkled before he spoke, as if he was unsure what to say to his answer.

    "You have been charged with over a thousand murders, and have walked away from an execution. Not only that but you refuse to die from starvation and sleep deprivation, I am told." Vienice shrugged at the claims.

"You act too casual in this setting," The king warned.

    "Aye." Vienice agreed.

    This made the king narrow his eyes before he continued. "You stand here today, convicted of affiliating with the devil. How do you plead?"

    Vienice's brows raised. He took a moment to think about that charge before he spoke up. "I am perhaps, guilty of many things. I am likely guilty of an entire city's demise, and I am absolutely guilty of walking away from execution," he said now, nodding as he spoke; as if considering the things he had done. "But I know nothing of devils. The only god I worship is the same as you. The god of winter. I plead innocent of the charge you speak of."

    "Everyone there, witnessing your execution saw what had happened." A robed man next to the king spoke up, taking this chance to walk forward. "Are you calling them liars?

    "What is it, that these people say they saw, exactly?" Vienice asked back. It was a silent challenge of sorts and the old robed man would not be out questioned.

    "The reports claim that many saw the same thing. A black cloud of mist that left both ends of your body. You stood up, headless and snatched your head right back up."

    "And you call this the devils work?"

    "Why yes, what else could it be?"

    "Perhaps the winter gods did not wish for me to die?" Vienice challenged now. These people were highly religious- devoted to their summer and winter gods. The boy did not know what result he was aiming for, but he kept the court talking.

    The robed man scowled now, thinking for something clever to say or ask in response. "The gods have never brought anyone back before and if they had it surely would not be you."

    "And why is that?" Vienice asked him now.

    "You look of the devil. You are no winter's son. Show the king your ears."

    "My ears?" He repeated, perplexed.

    "Yes, the pointy ears of a demon." The man accused.

    Vienice sighed and did as he was told, lifting his red, matted hair from one side of his face to reveal that his ear, was in fact pointed at the end.

    "Here is the evidence, your grace. Before us stands a pointy eared devil! He has the hair and eyes to go along!" The robed man stood back in his place now, satisfied with himself.

    Vienice was used to this kind of talk. The people of the north were often times colder than the temperatures outside. He was no stranger to insults on the way he looked.

The king gave him a long look, before waving his hand to someone at his side. The chubby man stepped forwards and looked down at a paper in his hands. He read from this paper in a loud voice, but it was not entirely confident in his words. "Residence of the city Vangerbore, gone why it fell, claimed that Vienice Aramon had a dirty reputation. Not only this, but they claimed that his mother, Aleise Aramon had been mentally unsound for most of her life and was known to talk about strange things many would consider to have come from devil's work. Furthermore, many people claimed that the lady Aramon was cursed, having two stillborns and a midwife claiming that, Vienice Aramon was the third. How he came to breath the next day was unknown but the midwife, now deceased, had sworn on her life that the third stilborn baby born to lady Aramon was of brown hair. She claimed that the next day she had checked on the mother, lady Aramon was with a purple eyed babe with unnatural red hair- unlike any that family had ever been born with. The people of Vangerbore, and this midwife included, swore up and down that Vienice Aramon and his mother were both of the devil."

Vienice took in this information- some new, some old. He did not know what parts of it to believe. People had called him and his mother plenty of things. "Where are the people who speak of this? How do we know that this isn't all fiction made up by those who would see me harmed?" Vienice wasn't sure why he asked the questions that he did. He knew he deserved punishment so he did not know why he attempted to defend himself. Perhaps it was a reflex to want survival- or perhaps it was only the truth he was willing to suffer for.

"There was a request for them as witnesses in this trial, but none would come. They were far too terrified to come here in person. I hope you understand why," The chubby man offered.

"It does not matter then. Lies are lies whether you say it in person or over writing." Vienice said now, looking back over to the king. He waited for the man's decision without dread. What could be worse than a failed beheading? A dozen more? A lifetime in a cell?

The king seemed to consider his options for a moment. And he had the right to do so. Vienice, with or without being convicted for being aligned with the devil, had still likely destroyed an entire city. And if that, it was no small feat for walking away from your execution. Denying the throne was an act of treason. It was as if crimes were adding up on his head without him having to do anything at all but be alive.

"How old are you, Vienice Aramon?" The king asked him suddenly.

"I am of seventeen winters, your grace."

"Do not lie to me."

"I have not lied since the moment I walked in here." Vienice said confidently.

"You look far too young to be merely seventeen. Perhaps thirteen winters, fourteen at the most,"

"I suppose I must be a slow grower, your grace."

"A child younger than you perhaps would earn a lighter sentence. A merciful one."

    Vienice merely shrugged again, something that the court clearly didn't appreciate. He did not care; what was there that a walking dead man should care about? "I am nothing if not honest. I deserve any punishment for the crimes I have confessed to."

"Repeat these crimes." the king commanded.

Vienice considered declining, as he had already stated the prior to this, but he spoke anyway. "The possible demise of a city, and my bodies refusal to die when beheaded."

"You say possible, when concerning the crime you have been convicted guilty of, why?"

"Why?" He repeated. "It is just as I told the man judging me the first time I was tried. I do not remember much of that day. I do not remember ending a city. But I do remember being the last person standing and I do remember being drenched in blood. If someone had done it, I suppose it would have had to be me. But no one saw, no one else remembers- so I do not know for certain." Part of him felt like this was a lie. HIs insides screamed at him that he did it, that he was the one. He was guilty. But his logical side had to remember that no one else saw. There was no real proof, was there? It felt like a lie.

"And what is it you mean when you say your 'bodies refusal'?"

"That I had no decision in waking up days later. If you ask the executioner, I willingly accepted my punishment."

"So something else brought you back?"

"I suppose so, your grace."

"So you admit to being in alliance with the devil?"

Vienice stopped in his tracks. This again? Was that an indirect confession of his guilt? No it couldn't be. He had not said it was the devil. Perhaps he should push the winter gods will onto the court- but he did not know and that could be a lie. He took a deep breath and let his eyes fall down to his shackled hands. They curled up into loose fists as he thought of his response. Eventually, he came to accept the idea of the devil. It could be possible? Couldn't it?

"Not willingly. As I have said before, I worship the Winter gods. I know nothing of the devil."

"And what of the summer gods?"

"Vangerbore sees a summer every two to three years. I did not think believing in such gods meant anything to me."

"So do you admit being unbalanced?"

"Unbalanced? I am afraid I am not familiar with the term."

"You have only the cold guiding you. You must not have any warmth left. That is why you decimated Vangerbore."

Something about the king's conclusion bothered Vienice. The lack of worship to one god did not seem entirely relevant to anything that had transpired. Still, he accepted the idea. "I am not so sure, but that could be."

"Then this settles it. I, king Kalius of Icearyian, second of his name, find you, Vienice Aramon, guilty of all three charges.The decimation of the city of Vangerbore, Treason to the throne's command, and an alliance with the devil."

The finality of it all felt like a rock in Vienice's stomach. These were all grave charges. He felt nervous, but the feeling came and went like the wind. It was gone as soon as he felt it. As if his mind realized that nothing could get much worse. It wasn't as if he could die so easily. But another thought came to him. If his punishment wasn't to be death, then what would they possibly give him? He had done too much to be granted a life sentence in the dungeon... instead of dread, curiosity took him.

"Now, if you had said you were a child, I would have spared you a better punishment. Perhaps let you work your life as a slave- because I would have believed you. But you claim to be of a man's age. A young man sure, but men your age fight and die in wars every day- so you will not be spared. I commend your honesty- but it will not be saving you today." King Kalius explained to him now.

Vienice wondered where this was going. "We can't execute you- that would be too easy anyway, and we can't give you a life sentence because that does nothing for those who have suffered at your hand. All that is left for us is two choices. Make use of you or teach you a lesson. You do not look very useful, so you will be taught a lesson." The king said now, standing up from his throne, the entire room followed, standing after he did. "Three months torture. If that does not kill you, then it is to be that you shall be burnt at the stake. In the meantime, I will have the royal council search for a way to end your life. Court is now dismissed. You may take him away.

He felt frozen, standing there dumbfounded. He had not considered torture. Why had he been dumb enough to forget that thing was an option? Everything seemed to be in slow motion as people left the room, and multiple guards approached him. Vienice didn't fear death anymore- in fact at this moment he wished he had stayed dead at that executioner's block. He did not fear death but he greatly feared pain. If he had been able to, he would have lifted his hands to trace the scar on his neck. The sword had been cold... and it had hurt unlike anything he had ever felt before.

His breathing started to quicken, and for the first time in a long time, he lost his cool. As the guards came up to unlock his chains from the stand, he thrashed around, trying to move away from them. "Wait, wait please. Three months? Three!?" He elbowed a guard who tried to grab him in the face. "I can't do it! I cannot! I already know what it feels like to die! Pain is worse than death! Please! Use me as a slave, make use of me! Teach me a lesson that way!" He yelled at the king, who had been walking away.

King Kalius gave him a pitying look and shook his head. "The throne has made a final decision. I cannot go back on my word." With that he left, leaving Vienice to the guards.

He struggled to keep away, but crumpled to his knees when one of them slugged him in the stomach and then kneed him in the face. He grunted and groaned at this pain as they took him from under the arms and led him out of the throne room. He caught the empathetic eyes of the guard who had led him here before the doors closed on his way out.