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CALLIDORA DEVELAN
the part where she dies
Her bones did not shake, and her lip did not tremble as the guards posted at her cell dragged her body from the stone bed provided. She was numb. Impervious to the situation at hand, but still utterly devastated at the prospect of her death Callidora knew now more than ever what it meant to die.
Would anyone shout her name? Mourn for the loss of life that had been taken so early? Would anyone even attend the public execution for a girl they barely knew?
Callidora could fantasize it then. A handsome young man whose love superseded any and all expectations carrying her away from the tragedy that was her life. He would swoop in like a hero dressed in black where they would then elope to an island far away from the reach of Lumen. Her life would be saved and she’d fall in love.
Her head ached at the thought. Her dreams were never meant to be for fantasizing, they were only meant to guide the living. A useless talent if Callidora ever thought of one, for it was after all the reason for her demise.
“Pick up your feet, prisoner.”
Aedium, he always had been the worst of the two. Queen and Crown he followed royal decree to the letter. He didn’t cease for his traitorous parents, and Callidora knew he would not stop for her.
“Is that any way to talk to a long time friend, Aedy?”
“You are not a friend, prisoner,” he spat out her name like it was venom, “You are a traitor to Queen and country and you will pay for your crimes.”
A traitor. Is that what she was? What had she done to deserve this?
“You’re being too harsh Aediu—“
“— and I will tell the Queen of your dishonorable actions here Luther if you do not cease talking.”
Luther remained quiet in fear of his head being brought to the pedestal next. Callidora could not blame him as much as she wanted to. He had a child, he had a wife, and he was going to die a horrible death within the next year.
The walk to the execution stand was long and filled with a discerning quiet. The many faces which passed by her were filled with pity and a sense of misplaced anger. A girl whom Callidora knew since she was a child stood behind her friends, shielding her face from Callidora as though it would stop the inevitable. Poor girl.
A bag was placed over her head, and the stench of dried tears and blood permeated every fiber. This was the so-called “death hat” that she had heard so much about before. Although the people who were fitted for it never lived to tell the tale of its terror, Callidora for one could vouch for its reputation.
She was on the verge of crying.
The door opened and Callidora knew that her death place was mere feet away from where she stood. She tried not to think about how many steps it took to get to the top of the stand (50), and she tried not to think about how tall it was (10 feet), but most of all she tried not to hear the voices of men and woman whispering their thoughts (about 40).
Aedium pushed her onto the ground so that her knees hit the wooden board with a thud. He grabbed her by the shoulder and guided her head to the curved slot where it would be separated from the body.
Callidora could not see, but in all honesty, she would not have wanted to. She was afraid of who might be in the crowd, and how her face would contort in terror in death.
“By orders of the Queen of Lumen, for being a co-conspirator in the plan to assassinate her majesty, we sentence you to be executed to atone for your crimes. May your soul pass through hell quietly — for queen and country!”
“For Queen and country!”
The blade came down so quickly Callidora had no time to think before she was dead.