Black Blood

-B2- Chapter 49

The dozens of meters long staircase is filled with Dawn members and high magicians. Dressed in their neat attire, with their hair groomed and clearly amused by the situation. Some grin, others keep a straight face.

As I descend the steps, they stare at me like a child who has a plate of food in front of them that they don't like. All I see is disgust.

The high magicians dare to hurl words at me that are forbidden for young ears. If they weren't so vain, they would have thrown things at my head, like rotten tomatoes or even stones if they had the chance.

At the bottom of the stairs, on the vast grassy plain, stands the audience. Not magicians or Dawn members, but hundreds of citizens: vampires, werewolves, elves, and even humans, all in a circle around the bonfire.

The crowd of people is kept at a distance by dozens of guards who hold their swords pointed at them. Unlike the magicians, the rest of the audience remains eerily silent. Their faces show no disgust or amusement, but fear and sympathy.

At the bottom of the stairs stand my father, Christiaan, Elien, the bull, and the head of the Dawn in front of the towering stack of wood. I would gladly wipe the grin off Christiaan's face. My father's face is static, just like the head of the Dawn. Elien is unreadable; the black hood hides every emotion.

Torturously slow, I am pushed towards my death via the staircase. The screams of the magicians echo across the open plain.

My gaze is fixed on Elien. Somewhere, deep inside, I ask him for help with that look. However, he does not look back, his head turned towards the grass.

The last step of the last tread feels like the heaviest step I have ever taken. My heart pounds against my ribs, my hands sweat as I fold them together.

The guards stop walking when I am a meter in front of the bonfire. They turn around and take their place on the stairs along with three other guards.

It is my father who takes the first step forward. He is dressed in a black suit with a large black cloak and the familiar silver crown. His eyes glance fleetingly over me. He must recognize the dress.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' his voice resonates over the crowd.

I direct my gaze to the sky and look at the blue sky. Here and there, a pile of clouds hangs between the blue. The sun high in the sky gives warmth to the grass.

'We are glad that you are present on this revolutionary day, to witness the world becoming more beautiful.'

A loud applause sounds from the stairs. The citizens remain dead silent.

'From today onwards, we will live in a world of equality. No more scoundrels exercising unjust power and disgracing the crown. From today, our world becomes more beautiful.'

After those words, two new guards walk towards me. Everything in my body screams to run, to flee, and to scream. Yet, I remain motionless.

The men firmly grip my arms and push me towards the towering bonfire. The wood is carefully stacked in a cone shape, with a thick beam in the center. Five wooden planks form a staircase to the middle of the pyre, where there is just enough space to stand.

As they push me up the steps, I don't know whether to resist. My body seems to move automatically, but my mind no longer functions.

When my feet touch the narrow platform of less than thirty centimeters, two other guards begin wrapping a five-centimeter thick rope around my waist.

My gaze glides over the crowd in front of me. Citizens hold each other's hands, women hold their children in their arms.

Never before have I seen so many different beings gathered in one place. It is remarkable that I get to experience that on the day of my death.