An Absolute Order

The winds started to dissipate as harsh reality struck Clementine akin to a lightning. She couldn't blink her eyes, nor could she move a finger. She was frozen still, the adrenaline of shock refraining her of any movement.

Clouds formed in clumps, heavy with the gray hue. The setting sun in the horizon was nowhere seen, covered by the ominous group of gray fluff. Her gaze registered the sight before her and every miniscule second made her see nothing but red. Not blood. But red— wrathful red.

Her fingers twitched itching for something. And when her hand brushed against the familiar cold and engravings of her sabre. . . She lost it.

She had definitely lost it.

Clementine saw something shift behind her, swift and ready to flee. Yet she wasn't having it, no. Whoever did this needs to pay. They needed to pay the price and she'd be delighted to be the one to collect that payment.

She rose to her feet and like a turbulent tornado— she launched. The magician swung her sword and it ripped a piece of clothing. Not only did she caught cloth, but also blood indicating her that she had landed a strike on the perpetrator.

Swift strikes and clean slices invaded the silence within the area. Blood that formed into pretty puddles now decorating the grasses. Clementine needs this person gone the most painful way possible.

Yet she wondered, from the back of her head. 'Why does this person keep on accepting my attacks?'.

'THUD. . .THUD. . .THUD. . .'

A series of footsteps interrupted her session and it seemed that the unnamed criminal also noticed this. Clementine was quick to realize that this person was going to flee a second longer. She won't let him.

Mustering up the wind, she directed her magical flow towards the very tip of her weapon. And when a knight yelled— "Halt!"— she delivered the blow in one direct pierce.

The magician was about to grab unto the person's collar and seize them herself. However, she was slow to react on the attack that forced her body down on the ground. Her sword disappeared and her hands were bound beside her, so as her feet.

She was rendered motionless by the binding and she couldn't break it off.

"Damn it!" Clementine cursed. "Get these off me! I need to chase the person. Whoever that was, they harmed Alejandro!"

"What happened here?" The familiar voice of Dominique came and resounded throughout. This prompted Clementine to avert her head towards him, only to witness a very baffling view.

Knights surrounded her.

Swords in hand.

Swords which sharp ends were directed at her immobilized self.

"Clei? What are yo— OH MY GOD!", Horror adorned Dominique's visage as he stared at the horrific welcome. Crimson dyed the green grass. A pool of it emitted from Alejandro's body a few meters away from his place. Guards all armed and surrounding a very displeased and confused Clementine.

To worsen things more.

A strangled gasp caught Dominique's attention. At that he knew he was up to something much dreadful that than what was displayed in front of him. He shifted his gaze and it was agonizingly slow. The knight feared that it was what he thought of, especially since he heard that gasp.

It wasn't just a gasp.

The meek pained tone. . . He could recognize it anywhere. He felt his stomach churn. A weight so heavy placed on his back. Trembling hands as he stumbled and sprinted for the other victim.

Not a knight.

Not Alejandro.

Not Clementine.

But that small body, matted amber tresses, the familiar olive vest that the youngest prince had been wearing since morning that was now stained with vermilion. . . Dominique screamed in distraught.

"BRIXTON!"

She heard that name. Clementine heard the name in perfect clarity. She froze from her squiggling.

'Brixton?' the magician choked. The vermilion hue of wrath decreased from her face. Pale as paper white

She had been aiming at Brixton all along?

Was that the reason why the perpetrator didn't dare block or reward her twice the attack she brought them?

No. Clementine knew that something was wrong. Magically wrong. There was a mistake. There was a play here. . .

Clementine received a letter.

Alejandro warned her not to go to Ellysia.

'A play, much more fouler than dead birds in a flock.' , she recalled her own words.

They must be connected.

Everything needed to be connected.

"Guards. . . Call the rest of the magicians affiliated in Celeste, bring them to heal both the prince and Alejandro," Cold, firm— Dominique ordered the knights like the leader he was.

The magician's heart shook at the thundering cold order. Her entire body had gone rattled as she waited for the next, because she knew. . .

Clementine knew what'd come next.

She didn't like it at all. It wasn't anticipated, wasn't exactly called for. She wished for a time out! A very quick pause to catch her bearings. Yet time won't allow her, for time doesn't function in that way.

All that was left, was to welcome the impending doom, especially since escape was a futile action. The bindings that bound her body were magic proof— she wouldn't be able to summon wind nor would she be able to grasp her sword.

"And as for you. . .", He trailed off, merciless as he eyed Clementine down. Clementine's throat went dry and scratchy. Silver-jeweled orbs closed tight. Sweat dribbled from her forehead as she shook within the bounds.

"You're going to the dungeons."

***

CLANK!

Clementine didn't know what to do nor how to react at all. She felt completely empty. The guards sneered at her as they tightened her cuffs, pulling the chains as if to emphasize how unbreakable the item was.

"You can't get away so easy. Sir Dominique specifically ordered to shackle you in Class A Moonstone Cuffs— magic unfriendly." They howled in laughter, finding her pitying state entertaining. One even dared to kick her on the thigh and it throbbed as she winced in pain. It would sure bruise later.

Her pride was trampled by mere knights. What happened? How did everything went downhill? These same knights once feared her for her capabilities, her title as an imperial magician, but now? They're here— mockingly shoving the fact on her face that she was now known as one of Celeste's criminals.

She flew so high and now she's falling down like Icarus, who flew so close to the sun yet tumbled down after. Clementine forced her tears back with a whimper. She didn't want to cry, even if she's in the most terribly saddening position.

Clementine gasped in pain as she moved a joint, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. The cuffs were tight. Too tight, it could probably cut her blood flow. A rusty gold glinted as torchlight shone through the bars. Class A Moonstone. . . She was the one to request the king to use them instead of ordinary iron. In that way, magic bearer criminals won't ever escape.

Guess what? She's wearing a pair now. The absolute irony.

Her ears perked at the sound of screeching metal. It was so bad she'd grimaced. Clementine's ears rang for a minute straight. Afterwards, it was replaced with complete noise less, except for a pair of padding feet that awfully grew louder as the person came closer to her cell. Her new. . .home.

"Miss Clementine?" The voice was soft, friendly, but most of all— pitiful. She was gravely ashamed as she peered an eye towards the old lady. She recalled her name, Poppy— a kitchen maid. "I brought food. It isn't much due to orders but. . . I made sure to bring you something that'd at least make you full."

"I'm not hungry." Clementine whispered. It was true. Her appetite had long gone away since earlier morning and it worsened when the fireworks blared off in a sickening crimson in the sky.

"You need to eat, Miss," The maid frowned, bending to place the small plates of food in her cell. They weren't many, just some carbs that'd make her full in one eating. They weren't appetizing too— like the one who served each dish begrudgingly plated the eatables. They didn't look edible too.

"Pardon me. . . Ruffina was really—",

"Bring that food back to her. Tell her I'm not hungry." Clementine rolled her eyes. For a prisoner, she sure was picking her food. But would it be considered picking if she didn't even want to eat a single piece? She just wanted to be alone. Besides, if Ruffina thought that her food was edible, then she's wrong.

The plate of mashed potatoes resembled a pile of dog shit. Who would even eat that?

"But Miss! I—", The maid made protests, or was about to but was cut off when another screech echoed throughout the dungeons.

"Leave it. Let her starve. It's what she wanted, after all." A guard interfered with a snort. His heavy leathered boots made thuds across the room before he stopped near the magician's cell— he slid a paper through the gaps of iron. "Your punishment is set and is irreversible by King Lawrence himself. You've dug yourself quite a hole exactly for a burial, magician."

Clementine inhaled a sharp breath, waiting. . .

"W-what did the king say?" Poppy asked shakily. She was aware of the violation and the punishment. The maid was aware of what could be the magician's final. And she gulped a mouthful of saliva. She didn't want to hear it, but she eventually did.

"Death by public execution."

Clementine's world crashed down.

It was an order.

An absolute order from King Lawrence Dei Celeste himself.