Final Moments

“I didn’t do this! There was a seal planted on me; it shot out the fire. I have no staff!” Sorin shouted louder as the masked men took him out of the trail room, The representative elf just looked in utter silence, giving a reassuring squeeze to Keldric.

She smiled just a bit further. “You didn’t do anything; just step up. The judge is ready for you now."

As Keldric went up, his footsteps wavered each time he went forward; fear, shock, and betrayal ran through him. “Judge, I apologise for that traitor's attempt at murder. Please spare me the mercy, as these were not my actions!” His voice was hushed; however, the judge still heard.

“I hereby declare a new verdict! Keldric Reignbolt will be free under surveillance for the next month; otherwise, as his conduct stays morally sound, he will regain the ability to be free. Dismissed!” The judge hit his staff on the podium as people started to leave; all having their own say, the chatter never died. It only got worse.

News spread fast: “The Hero of West Acluraria is a traitor!” or "Attempted murder in the trail room!” The common person from underneath was stunned; their hopes died with the hero finally ending this war the moment they read the news.

Sorin himself was stuck in a confined cell; two masked men stood right outside the metallic bars. They were made for weaponry that could destroy metal. But they never predicted someone who “could” wield magic without a staff; they would rather take no chance even behind such a secure place.

My execution is just an hour away. At least I was allowed to call Mira over. Just one final time. I just want her at least to know I didn't do anything bad.

Twenty minutes passed. Mira rushed in at full speed into the cell area towards Sorin, where the two guards stood. They didn't even budge to allow them space. “Move already, you two; stand near the corner. I'm not even a mage, and you are a second away if anything."

The guards slowly gave a resigned sigh knowing better tahn to reject as they stood aside; they were still within response distance and could hear everything realistically, but the gesture before a man's death at least was nice.

“Master Sorin, why did you assault the trial judge? When did you even know about staffless magic? You never told me about this ability; if you had said this sooner, you would have gone to higher heights, avoiding all of this…”

Sorin just stood at the back wall; there were no windows, so the air was still, but he didn't even meet Mira’s gaze. How could he? “I didn’t do it. Staffless magic isnt even possible. And my robes were tinkered with somehow and they cast out magic, then a girl with purple hair activated the spell right outside the trail room."

Mira took his words seriously; if anyone were to understand him, then it would be her. He wouldn't joke around, especially at a time like this. “So you're saying there is someone that has both staffless magic and knows how to implant spells. That's even beyond you. Only one of five revolutionaries could do this. They are all dead however So it must be someone who matches them.”

“You seem almost not even shocked about what I said, we learned that magic needs staff. You wouldn't understand why it's so great. I didn't do this, it's impossible” Sorin exclaimed a bit louder, the guards giving a small laugh next to each other at the pathetic "hero."

Mira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "There are many things in this world unexplored and forgotten. I think its a safer bet to assume that. But I apologise for rejecting your facts."

“If you are right then I apologise but I can't see it being trusted. I just need to get out of here. I tried talking to the guards but no matter how many times I try to say something, it won't be believed.” Sorin slumped against the wall, his face lowered into his knees. “I just want to bring them to justice; I don't care about myself anymore. I'm a hero of nothing."

Mira let Sorin sulk for a second more until she asked one simple question: “Master Sorin, do you promise me that you have been framed by this purple-haired girl?”

“I do—”

“Do you promise that you didn't attack the judge and that you have been honest this entire time?” her face bore into him deeply.

Sorin took a deep breath. “I do!”

Mira gave no reaction back; however, Sorin smiled a bit, knowing what she meant. “I will personally find out. I promise to try my best to free you from your captivity. Even at the cost of my own freedom. I have been entrusted to you for your entire life. That face you showed to me just now. I know it's not the face of a murderer. Or a traitor.”

Walking away from the cell bars, the guards returned closer to Sorin’s post. Mira was already gone, nowhere to be seen without uttering a word. “Are you done saying your last goodbyes, traitor? I hope that chick comes down to see your head slashed apart and I might take her out then just to rub it in." Both of them start laughing.

“Wasn’t your whole thing that you stay quiet and don't talk? I bet you would be dismissed if this got out.” He points out, however, that the guards just start laughing louder.

One of the guards explains, “This is the one job that allows us to talk because what is a dead person going to know, anyway? Just worry about yourself before it's too late, Mister 'Hero'.

As Sorin got to slumping near the wall, he wandered off into himself.

Even if Mira figures out a way to get to the purple girl, how could she stop someone that powerful yet alone catch them and show them off as the perpetrator? It seems so unlikely, but that stone-cold face of hers at least believes in me. Not like I blame Keldric or anything, but I'm disappointed, really… we were both there, man,

Time passed on quietly until the hour drew to a close. It was time.

“Off we go, time for that head to finally fall off. Tales of a hero for nearly two decades, yet it seems it's all for nothing. " The guard said that last part, just a bit lower than the rest. Everyone had hope that was misplaced in the eyes of the public now.

As Sorin got taken out of the general affairs building, he slowly got escorted down the hub of orange-hued bridges towards the surface, where there was an elevated platform with a device that would hold him down while the other two mages used a physical spell to slash downwards, severing his head.

The crowds were also no less spectacular than the killing method itself; from all mages to higher-ups, even every commoner was on the ground, all chanting his death up to the very point where he was placed in the device locking his head using a bind spell, preventing him from movement. The low elevation of the device also made it uncomfortable and slippy from its wooden surface.

As the crowds settled, a single man came up to the platform; he had a pure white robe and orange hair to match; he was of middle age. “I will now begin the final moment of Sorin the hero.”