Vyra did not know how much time had elapsed since she had first found herself within the carriage. Hours maybe? It certainly felt like that. Just when it was that she had been first taken and thrown within the carriage, bound and gagged, vulnerable. No different than the situation she had been faced with against the Witch Hunters, but at least then they had afforded her the brief reprieve in the woman known as Seras, who despite her role as a double agent for the Witch Hunters, at least allowed a sense of relief to Vyra.

There was none to be had within the carriage. The leather straps that both bound and gagged her had begun to cause physical pain to her, her wrists burning as the straps scrapped against the skin time and time again while her jaw began to tightened in discomfort. It was miserable. A horrid departure from the comfortable relaxation that she had been subject to only a short time ago, or perhaps last night? It was difficult to quite say even.

From the unmatched comfort of the hot spring, Vyra had been there for what felt like hours, certainly late into the night – a byproduct of her intenral clock having been reset by the deep nap she had taken upon arriving in Hosenka. When these people arrived, it may well have been deep into the night by this point, but it was impossible to say entirely. With no windows within the room that contained the hot spring, there was no way for certain to tell just how much time had passed.

And having awoken inside the carriage, the only thing that one could have assumed was that at some point she had been knocked out and suddenly now within the carriage some time later, though it could have been anywhere from as brief as a few minutes to instead hours later. The sooner the sun would begin to rise, the sooner she would know for certain.

But even that did not quite give a great sense of comfort to Vyra.

[345/2000]

The only thing that truly came of knowing quite what time it was was a gauge of how long they had been travelling. And even in that, there was little comfort expected to have been received, save for maybe the sake of knowledge, to know where one were expected to find their deaths within.

That left her broken, the idea that for as bad as her situation presently was, it was only to become worse. Taken in the middle of the night, forced out somewhere completely unknown to her, only to face a likely death. And there was nothing seemingly that she could do about it. She had no reason to think that her being within Blue Pegasus or knowing Alisa Vollan would have mattered.

She was on her own.

And on her own, she was doomed.

“We’ll be there soon enough. Just sit tight.” The Knight spoke once again with the same indifference in his voice, leaving Vyra to wonder what it was that she had done to make them believe she had been responsible for the battlefield carnage witnessed before. For that matter even, how had they found her so quickly; perhaps less than a day had elapsed since she had stumbled upon the battlefield in the first place, let alone be regarded as an active party within it. It simply did not feel right. None of it did.

And as she continued to look out the window in a sullen state, she couldn’t help but shed a tear as she saw the sun beginning to slowly rise in the far distance, affirming that they had been travelling for hours.

That Vyra, wherever it was that the carriage was going, would be executed in a place she did not know.

Alone.

[638/2000]

Quite when they arrived, it was hard to say. She had drifted in and out of consciousness, what little sleep she had managed to get being counteracted by the towering knight seated just across from her, making a point of kicking the bench from which she was rested upon, violently bringing her back into a state of consciousness. With each occurrence, the Demi-Human briefly glanced out the window, hoping to get a better gauge of something, whether it was where they were, what time it was, just something. Anything to erase the uncertainty that surrounded their venture so far.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to read much into anything about their travel so far. Only that it was still a lengthy one that they were travelling, nothing seeming to indicate that it was any closer or not to being finished, despite what the Knight had said earlier. That had seemed to have been hours ago, or at least, felt like hours ago.

There was certainly a case to be made as the carriage came to a harsh halt, Vyra having been unprepared for the sudden change, almost being thrown right off of her seat, but managing to remain upright somehow. Glancing again towards the window that had become as much her solace as it did window to the world, the morning sunlight cast upon everything in sight.

Forest, old buildings, a stone gate having seen more than its fair share of wear and tear, a number of animals running about and some people trotting after them. It was clear that wherever they were now, there were at least some level of society there, which made sense given what the Knight had said before. Whomever this Knight’s Lord was, more than likely this was where he was located.


[934/2000]

“Out of there!” An angry-yet-meek voice called out from beyond the carriage, the door furthest from Vyra being thrown open as there stood a pair of men, both clad in the same armor that she had at this point been all too accustomed to seeing in such a short timeframe. One of their faces was unkempt with a wild beard, while the other one was clean-shaven, sporting a large nose instead. Both of them looked upon the bound Vyra with a look that could only be regarded as contempt-filled. “Freak show! You! Out here now!”

The duo barked out at Vyra, their speech not much different to the racist rants and cold remarks that she had heard in Hargeon. At least then it could have been argued that it were simply a byproduct of alcohol and the nature of Hargeon, but here, it was evident that they meant every word that they said, that with every fiber of their being they held nothing but hatred towards Vyra.

She said nothing, refusing to give them the satisfaction. It was a quality that she had learned from being within Hargeon, to ignore those who spewed this nonsense were often the ones who found themselves least fulfilled when all was said and done.

“She dumb? Can’t understand us common?” The big-nosed one said, making a series of gestures towards Vyra that as much made her come to believe that the two of them, despite the sense of freedom and superiority that they were displaying, were nothing more than common folk, if even less than that.

“That be it, she got them leather in her mouth,” the bearded-one seemed to realize after some time, despite both having watched Vyra for a moment. The big-nosed one similarly looked stunned, having not realized it either at first. “What say we take that out?”

As the bearded-one had begun to reach into the carriage, a mangy arm extended towards Vyra’s direction, she could not help but find herself pushing herself as far back as possible, wanting not contact whatsoever with the man. That never came to happen though, as the imposing Knight thrust his hand forward, taking everyone by surprise, but perhaps nobody more than the bearded-man who cried out as his arm was shattered in the impact, dangling from the elbow down as though a giant piece of pasta.

“The girl is to face trial. But that does not mean you are to treat her like one of your playthings,” the Knight said, his voice perhaps as close as possible to expressing anger. “Now go. Tend to the fields or whatever you do.” As the two men departed, one still sobbing in agony, the Knight adjusted his head towards Vyra, “It’s time.”

[1390/2000]

The Keep certainly had more of an older aesthetic to it, a little similar to that of some of the older buildings that Vyra had been within inside Hargeon and even before, the few times she recalled being in old buildings and drawing faint comparisons to what was there through this. But it was difficult for Vyra to fully appreciate everything going on or even the details of it all, exhaustion now truly overtaking her now. Though she did not fully appreciate it quite yet, with the exception of the brief period in which she was knocked out and smuggled out of Hosenka, she had yet to sleep, and it was becoming more and more evident.

With the gag in her mouth removed and the binding upon her wrist now being in front of her than behind, Vyra found herself being escorted by the towering Knight who moved through the Keep with absolute authority. Wherever he were to go, those who may have been in his way moved accordingly. She was reluctant to believe out of respect; much more likely out of fear.

Vyra certainly understood that fear, remaining terrified at what was to come, especially with how quick everything seemed to have been going. Little freedom was afforded to her, the perception already being that whatever she was brought forth for she was guilty of. This trial that was to occur, even just watching the people muttering whispers as the bound Vyra passed had convinced her that a judgment had long been reached; this trial was just a fake display of justice.

[1653/2000]

“There is little more to say, My Lord. The accused was seen upon the battlefield. On good authority, we know that the weapon in her possession was freshly stained with blood,” The Magistrate went on and on, laying out a very one-sided case while Vyra simply stood there, exhaustion causing her to nearly fall asleep whilst standing. Each time as her eyes began to drift, a forceful strike to either her backside or her ribs woke her quite quickly, whatever cries of pain she may have made being dismissed by nearly everyone within the loaded main chamber of the Keep.

“As I was saying, the accused has not provided any sort of explanation towards this. They have proven to be hostile throughout this process, even going as far as to strike upon innocent field workers, of whom multiple will attest towards.” The Magistrate turned towards Vyra, a ruthlessness in his eyes, before turning his attention towards the old man seated within the impressive throne that seemed to just overlook the entire court, “Simply My Lord, there is no mindful reason to believe that they are not guilty of the stated crimes.”

Vyra simply watched, as much wishing to object to what the man was saying, but finding that it was for nothing. In times where she had objected before, it was met by an utter dismissal by the presumed Lord, who much like those of the servants and others had already found her to be guilty. It left her with an incredibly low feeling, for once even wishing that her darker persona would come forward, perhaps then that it would at least enable her to die fighting as opposed to like a caged animal.

“I tend to agree. The evidence is overwhelming,” the Lord’s oldened voice carried through the hall, Vyra’s heart sinking with each word spoken. “Prepare the prisoner for the gallows."

[1966/2000]

“Do not!” A voice sparked a flurry of shocked responses throughout the hall, including that of Vyra, who lifted her head with a sudden moment of life being rushed within her as she – like many – turned to see a young woman, dressed in regal gowns, standing defiantly before the Lord. “The evidence speaks not to the girl’s involvement, but that of the robed figures. That the Magistrate seems to ignore this, one must wonder how many others have been wrongly put to death.”

“I will have none-“ The Magistrate began, incensed at the suggestion of his incorrect assessment.

“The Lord should have none of this. The girl should be praised for retrieving the Staff, not condemned,” the woman turned to Vyra, the Demi-Human looking up a face of absolute beauty. White flowing hair complimented a pale complexion that left Vyra speechless. “That the lot of you would so quickly look to set this woman to death, shame on all of you.”

“And so, what would the Countess wish happen?” The voice of the old Lord spoke again, echoing out. At first Vyra didn’t quite appreciate it, but when it fully dawned on her of just who it was advocating for her sake, she could not help but find herself blushing.

“Certainly not her death. The girl deserves no punishment, save for bad judgment-“

“There are men who carry our banner now dead!” The Magistrate erupted, still furious over the criticisms of his word.

“Men who would have been dead one way or another. If anything, the girl ended their suffering, not caused it.”

“So we condone murder now?”

“Every man we sent to transport the staff are dead. Are we murderers then for their losses?”

A silence fell upon the hall, people shamefully looking at one another, wishing not to recognize the fact that everyone sent, perhaps those whom were close, were similarly dead. At least for some, they may have felt a sense of guilt.

It was not until a short bit passed that anyone spoke, the Lord this time addressing the hall, “See the girl be gone from the Keep.”

“To where,” the Magistrate inquired, still angry, albeit having been humbled a bit by the preceding moments.

“Where does not matter. But have her off of the Barothy lands by sunset. Otherwise see the gallows prepped.”

Voices echoed throughout the hall as people began to file out, some disappointed, some having considered the level of self-reflection, but it did not seem that many, if at all, were thrilled about Vyra’s freedom.

Save for Vyra, and the woman whom had saved her.

“Come,” the woman said as her eyes cast a friendly gaze upon Vyra who simply looked on, lost for words, “I know somewhere that can provide you shelter for now.”

[2429/2000]