Alaric lowered his hand slightly. "Executioners." He called out.

Seven executioners stepped forward. They were large men with thick necks and arms like hawsers. Their bodies were marked with scars. Their faces were hard, their teeth stained. They wore leather aprons that were stiff with old blood. Each held a heavy sword, over four feet long, with wide, sharpened blades. They moved into position near the execution blocks, testing their grip, adjusting their stance.

Fear, raw and primal, finally broke through the dazed horror of the prisoners. Lady Virella wailed in a high, keening sound. Toben threw himself backward, screaming for mercy.

"My king! Mercy! Mercy! Forgive me!"

King Alaric ignored them. "When the execution is complete, the bodies will be taken to different areas of the kingdom and hanged from the gates of each major town. Their heads will be placed on spikes along the main city wall facing outwards so that all who enter will see the price of treachery. And know this, the traitor Varon remains at large. I declare him an outlaw. Any person who brings him to me alive will be granted a parcel of land of their choosing."

A guard on the dais stepped forward, holding up a large hand-drawn portrait on a wooden board. It depicted a man with sharp features, a thin beard, and cold, calculating eyes. A murmur went through the crowd as they studied the face.

Alaric raised his hand, and his gaze swept over the prisoner one last time. His face showed no pity, only the fulfillment of duty. He let his hand fall.

"Begin."

The crowd’s cheer was a physical force. The guards moved with brutal efficiency. They took the first seven prisoners and dragged them toward the blocks. The prisoners resisted, even though they were weak. Elder Drax tried to pull away, but a guard forced him down, pushing his head against the wood and fastening the shackle.

Lady Syra was screaming now, a raw, primal sound. "No! No! Please! I beg you, my king! Mercy! I was misled. Mercy!" She begged.

The guards pulled her forward, but her legs refused to walk. They carried her to the block and forced her down onto it. Her eyes went wide with terror.

After the seven prisoners were positioned, the executioners moved into place, too. They raised their swords.

There was no count. No final words. The executioners swung. The sword came down with a sound like a butcher splitting a side of beef—a wet and heavy thunk. The blade bit through flesh and spine in a single brutal arc. The body went rigid for a split second, and dark red blood pumped from the severed necks onto the wooden surface. The head rolled off the block, coming to rest in the wicker basket with a soft, wet thud. Some eyes were still open, some closed, their mouths still working in a silent final spasm.

The crowd cheered loudly. The guards dragged the bodies away quickly, making space for the next group.

The executioners didn’t pause. The lead executioner gestured to the guards with a jerk of his head. Another seven were brought forward. The process continued. The executioners worked without hesitation. Their movements were swift. They lifted their swords, brought them down. The same sound. The same spray of blood. The crowd is cheering. They stepped back as the bodies fell.

On the dais, Serene’s face was a mask of pale horror. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the edge of her gown, twisting the fabric. She stared at the blocks, her breath coming in short and shallow gasps.

"I can’t watch this," she said quietly.

Evander glanced at her and gave a short laugh. "You have to watch. Look at them, Serene. Don’t be a coward."

Serene gazed at him. She looked irritated. Evander nodded towards their sister, Seraphina, who stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the scene. Her expression was blank.

"See?" He then gestured slightly towards Aveloria. She did not flinch as a stout prisoner was forced onto the block. His pleas were loud and desperate, but cut short by the sword. His body kicked once, a violent, involuntary jerk, before going still.

"That’s how a future Queen watches."

"Lucky for me, I’m not the future Queen." Serene turned her face away.

The crowd was still in a frenzy. Each beheading was met with a roar of approval.

Aveloria moved. She stepped forward slightly on the dais. "People of Lycanthria!" She called out in a clear, strong voice.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd as they all turned to focus on their future Queen.

"The royal house protects its people. This is our sacred duty. And we will never fail in it. We see your loyalty. We feel your anger, and we share it. We do not act without reason. The laws of this kingdom have judged those who stand accused."

The crowd quieted enough to hear her. She gestured toward the bodies being dragged away, toward the heads being added to the basket.

"This is the fate of those who betray you. But our vigilance does not end here. Let it be known, any person who harbors a wanderer, who gives aid or shelter to these outlaws will be brought to this very ground and face the same judgment."

The crowd listened. Her words were clear. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"We will continue to protect Lycanthria. But you are our eyes and ears. If you know of a wanderer or suspect someone is aiding them, you will report it to your local council immediately. An arrest will be made. And if any wanderer is found within our borders, they will not be given the mercy of the blade. They will be bound to a stake and burned alive so that their foulness may be purged from our land by fire."

The roar that followed from the people was deafening. They loved her for it.

The executions went on. One by one, the traitors were brought forward and killed. The guards kept the process moving, stacking their bodies for transport. The executioners did not slow down. The crowd did not leave.

By the end, the ground was covered in marks of what had taken place.