The Gallows

“E-Execution?” Corvin’s eyes darted around in a panic as two shadows stepped toward him, their movements swift and silent.

“Wait! Wait, wait—please!” Corvin sprang to his feet, knocking the chair backward. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know Reith was a Reaper! I only met him a few days ago! You’ve got to believe me!”

The shadows seized his arms, ignoring his struggles, and began dragging him toward the gallows.

“Please! I didn’t even like him! I—I was glad, deep down, when he was killed!” Corvin cried out, his voice cracking with desperation.

As they passed by Gladius, Corvin turned sharply, nearly slipping from the grip of the shadows in his effort to reach him.

“Please—you have to believe me! I’ll do anything! Anything you ask!”

Gladius didn’t even look at him. He raised a single hand and waved slowly behind his back like a lazy farewell.

The judge sat with his head bowed, hands folded over the desk. His voice came low, almost a whisper. “Forgive me…”

Behind Corvin, two more shadows reached out—one catching Mira by the arms as she made to move forward, another pair gripping Sai before she could speak. Eira stood motionless, her expression hollow, watching as the scene unfolded like a bad dream.

“No! No, no, no!” Corvin continued to protest as the rope was pulled taut in the hands of the shadows. They forced him to his knees beneath the wooden arch of the gallows. He sobbed once, catching the sound in his throat.

One of the shadows stepped forward, holding the noose. Another tightened it from behind, pushing it down over Corvin’s head and yanking the knot against his neck.

“Please,” Corvin whispered, his voice raw. “Don’t do this…”

His eyes fell to the trapdoor beneath him—the worn, groaning wood that marked the final step of his short life.

“Well then,” Gladius said, stepping up beside him, speaking low enough for only Corvin to hear, “any last words? Something other than the usual begging and whining?”

Corvin blinked. “What?”

Gladius turned with theatrical flourish toward the crowd, voice rising. “Any last words from the guilty?”

The audience murmured and chuckled, a cruel laugh echoing here and there.

Corvin’s breathing became shallow. He looked toward Mira, Sai, Eira… and then down. His shoulders sagged. “I… I’m sorry. So sorry…”

His voice trembled, barely audible.

“Whoa,” Gladius sneered, shaking the rope gently. “That was vague as shit. What does that even mean?”

The crowd laughed—some forced, others uncomfortable. But as Gladius turned to scan the audience again, the laughter died down. A shift in the crowd caught his attention—people parting, stepping back, heads turning.

“What’s this?” he muttered.

“Hang him!” Gladius barked, trying to reclaim the moment. But no one moved.

“I SAID HANG HIM!” he growled, grabbing the shadow nearest the lever.

“There will be no such thing happening here.”

The voice rang through the plaza like a sword drawn from its sheath.

Everything froze—the crowd, the shadows, even Gladius. His jaw clenched as he turned around slowly.

Standing at the edge of the square was a boy—no older than seventeen—with messy brown hair and a casual stance that belied the armored knights standing on either side of him.

“Dex?” Gladius forced a smile, clapping his hands together. “So glad to see you. But I must admit—I don’t recall requesting a member of the chief’s family at this execution?”

Dex didn’t return the smile. His arms were crossed as he stepped forward. “You didn’t. And the Chief didn’t give permission for this execution either.”

Gladius chuckled, forced and dry. “Oh, well. The trial’s already done, and the boy was found guilty. I simply didn’t want to waste the Chief’s time.”

Dex stepped closer, his voice calm and clear. “Interesting. A trial for someone who didn’t know our laws? Judged for things he couldn’t possibly know were crimes?”

Gladius’s smile faltered. “He traveled with a Reaper.”

“And did he know that?” Dex countered. “How many people are tricked by Reapers each month? Each week? That’s why they’re so dangerous—they deceive. So unless you can prove the boy knew—”

The crowd began to murmur again.

“Dex is right…”

“He’s just a kid…”

“Maybe we rushed this.”

Gladius looked around, pressure mounting.

Dex gave a slight nod. “I order his immediate release.”

The shadows hesitated. Their eyes flicked to Gladius. A single, reluctant nod from him, and they let go. The rope fell slack. Mira and Sai were released next, stumbling slightly as the pressure on their arms vanished. Eira remained still as stone, eyes still fixed on Corvin.

Dex exhaled slowly, then addressed Gladius. “I suggest you take your party and head toward the walls. Night is falling, and there’s work to be done.”

He turned back to the crowd. “And for the rest of you—go home. Rest. Be grateful this was stopped before a mistake became irreversible.”

The people dispersed, some in silence, others grumbling, a few nodding in quiet agreement.

Corvin, still rubbing his wrists, as he was pulled into a shaky embrace by Mira and Sai.

“Come with me,” Dex said gently, motioning for them to follow.

Sai took Corvin’s arm, steadying him as they walked. Mira moved to Eira and whispered softly. The girl blinked as if waking from a dream and followed without a word.

They walked slowly through the village streets, lit by the soft orange glow of lanterns hanging from wooden posts. The homes were simple but sturdy—timber-framed with thatched roofs and the faint scent of hearth smoke drifting into the air. Chickens clucked quietly in pens, and a dog barked once before retreating behind a wooden fence.

Though the night was setting in, the town still hummed with quiet life—people closing shops, carrying water buckets, shuttering windows. And as they passed, more than a few villagers stepped aside to watch them go, their expressions unreadable in the firelight.

Dex led them past the blacksmith’s glowing forge, past a weathered stone well in the square, and finally to a long wooden building that overlooked the edge of the wall. He gestured to a bench beneath the covered porch.

“Rest here. I’ll speak to the Chief in the morning. We’ll figure out what to do next after that.”

Corvin collapsed onto the bench like a man who had narrowly escaped drowning.

No one said anything for a long time.

They just sat—alive, confused, and shaken—as the bells marked the coming of nightfall.

“Do you have any money?”

“Not a coin to our name” Sai admitted

“I see” Dex started going thru his pockets

“Here this is enough for a double and a single room at the in” as he handed over the money as he pointed at a building. “Ill meet you outside tomorrow to talk, until then rest well” and just like that he left them.