6: End Of Trial

"It's fate," the Standard Bearer declared as he pulled the boy aside. The boy thrashed around, screaming, "No! No!" His pleas fell on deaf ears, like whispers against a raging storm. "Silence yourself, or must I cut off your tongue?" The Standard Bearer spoke, his voice a blade that cut through any disobedience the boy might have mustered.

The boy was made to kneel in front of the others, who watched in silent horror and anticipation, like deer frozen before a predator.

"We are not done yet," the Standard Bearer announced calmly, his voice sending shivers down the spines of all but the Black Shackles Operatives and Alistair. Even Lucian gulped silently, earning a smile of amusement from Alistair.

"Watch the show," Alistair said, walking past Lucian and closer to the Standard Bearer, like a cat stalking its prey.

The prisoners watched as Alistair drew closer, unable to tear their eyes away, their minds consumed by the fear radiating from the Standard Bearer, as if caught in the grip of a nightmare.

The Standard Bearer pointed his misericorde at another prisoner, a middle-aged woman. Pressing the blade to the head of the snake, it didn't glow. The Standard Bearer nodded, "Fate has favored you. You live," he said softly, backing away. He gestured for the woman to step aside and looked to Alistair for guidance. "What shall her new fate as a survivor be, Lord Alistair?"

Alistair hummed thoughtfully, "Hm, for now let us simply put her in the carrier aircraft." He gestured for two soldiers to escort her. The woman showed subtle resistance, slowing her pace. A soldier barked, "Cease this impudence, woman," his voice sharp and cold, obliterating any thought of defiance like a hammer smashing glass.

The woman whimpered, nodding vigorously before lowering her head and walking briskly. A soldier clasped her arm, practically dragging her along. She tripped over uneven terrain, causing the soldier to tighten his grip and pull her again. A shard of marble from the town hall lodged into her skin, and the dragging exacerbated the gash, drawing a whimper of pain from her, like a wounded animal.

Alistair smirked in amusement, watching the woman's torment with detached interest, like a child observing an anthill. He turned to the Standard Bearer, "You may continue," he said with a nod, stepping back.

Lucian moved to Alistair's side, "If I may, what was the population of the town before this?" he asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.

Alistair chuckled softly, "Approximately 36,700," he replied, his voice smooth and calm, like a monk's.

Lucian's eyes widened briefly, struggling to comprehend the scale of the massacre. "Now only—"

Another soft chuckle from Alistair cut him off, "Hm, hm, only 19 remain."

The chilling reality of Alistair's words hung in the air like a shroud, casting a shadow over the remaining prisoners. Lucian's face paled, but he quickly masked his discomfort with a practiced smile.

The Standard Bearer continued his grim task, selecting another prisoner—a young girl, barely in her teens. She trembled as the misericorde touched her forehead, but the snake remained dark. The Standard Bearer nodded, his voice gentler. "Fate has spared you."

Alistair's gaze remained unyielding as he instructed the soldiers to take the girl away. "Send her to the carrier aircraft. We will decide her fate later."

The girl was led away, her small form dwarfed by the imposing soldiers, like a sparrow surrounded by wolves. Alistair turned his attention back to the remaining prisoners, his eyes cold and calculating.

"We proceed," he commanded, his voice echoing in the now silent square.

The Standard Bearer moved to the next prisoner, an older man whose eyes were filled with defiance despite his circumstances. The misericorde touched his forehead, and this time, the snake glowed a deep, ominous red.

"Fate has chosen you for death," the Standard Bearer declared. The old man's expression didn't change, his defiance unwavering even in the face of death.

Alistair smiled, a cruel twist of his lips. "Execute him."

The soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, dragging the man to the side. His execution was swift, his body falling to the ground with a dull thud, like a sack of stones. The other prisoners watched in silent horror, their fear palpable.

Lucian, unable to look away, felt a shiver run down his spine. He had witnessed Alistair's ruthlessness before, but the sheer scale of the massacre was overwhelming. He forced himself to remain composed, knowing any sign of weakness would be noted.

Alistair continued to oversee the grim proceedings, his demeanor one of detached amusement. The Standard Bearer selected another prisoner—a woman in her thirties. The misericorde's snake glowed once more, sealing her fate.

"Execute her," Alistair ordered, his voice unyielding.

The soldiers complied, their actions swift and merciless. As the woman's body joined the growing number of the dead, Alistair's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, like a hawk watching its prey fall.

"How many remain?" he asked, turning to Lucian.

Lucian quickly counted the prisoners. "Six, my Lord," he replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Alistair nodded. "Continue," he instructed the Standard Bearer.

The next prisoner, a boy no older than ten, was brought forward. The misericorde touched his forehead, and the snake remained dark. The boy was spared.

"Send him to the carrier aircraft," Alistair commanded. The boy was led away, his small frame trembling with fear, like a leaf in the wind.

As the last few prisoners were judged, their fates sealed by the glow or darkness of the misericorde's snake, Alistair felt a sense of grim satisfaction. The rebellion was crushed, and his power unchallenged.

When the final prisoner was led away, Alistair turned to his soldiers. "We have dealt with the survivors."

Alistair looked up at the sky, the sun high overhead. "Time is of the essence; I must inspect the remains of the other towns as well."

He hummed, looking down. In the corner of his vision, the soldiers he had sent to retrieve the crate were visible. Alistair smiled in satisfaction, turning towards them. His mechanical arms moved with a soft whir as he gestured for the soldiers to hurry.

"Now, let's uncover you," he murmured, his smile widening as his anticipation grew, like a child about to open a long-awaited gift.