The One Who Got Away - SitS Sequel (ON HOLD)

Chapter One - A Chance Encounter

Zane trudged through the streets, his wrists sore from the shackles binding his hands together behind him as he was led to the town square. As he walked forwards, people jeered at him, screaming insults and throwing all sorts of nasty things his way. The guards leading him along did nothing to intervene, instead roughly shoving him forwards into the town square, where he was led to the object of his demise.

Someone threw a bottle of lemon juice his way, causing Zane to grit his teeth in agony as the acidic liquid seeped into the cuts Zane had acquired in the prison and from the shards of the bottle itself.

Now standing on the wooden podium in the center of the town, Zane glanced up at the crowd before him as he was roughly shoved into position beneath the blade.

After checking to make sure Zane couldn't escape his date with the guillotine, a small, ratty-looking official stepped forwards, signalling the crowd be silent. The crowd eventually calmed down enough to listen, and the official began his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I am here before you today for the public execution of Zane Ro'Meave! Guilty of murder! Treason! Theft! Deception! And manipulation!" The official pumped his fist with each accusation, exciting the crowd further before continuing. "But that all ends today! For today, we get rid of the dirty rat! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" The crowd began to join in the chant, and mothers all throughout the crowd covered their children's ears as cuss words joined the collective chant.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

"KILL THE DIRTY BITCH!"

The screams of the crowd reached a crescendo as the blade fell, cutting through flesh and bone and—

+=+=+=+=+

Zane awoke with a start, breathing heavily as he held a hand to his chest. Nightmares like this one were the most common, but never before had it felt so real. Sitting up, Zane exited the tent and walked over to one of the trees, climbing it to look at the starry skies above.

Staring at the heavens above, Zane felt... smaller. Like everything he'd ever done wasn't as immense as the nightmare made it out to be. Like he had less to answer for. It was calming, that was for sure.

Shadow, who Zane had awoken quite rudely, squawked indignantly, reminding Zane not to get lost in the skies above.

Zane promptly fell out of his tree in reply.

Picking himself up, Zane patted down his cloak in an attempt to clear away debris gathered upon his landing, before grabbing his things—a bedroll, a backpack full of supplies, and a satchel full of drawing supplies—and heading off into the forest. No use sleeping, better to stay moving.

It had been a serious fear of Zane's ever since he left the safety of the Phoenix Alliance; the fear of being caught and put to death before he had a chance to do something—anything—good. Problem was, Zane still had no idea what that one good deed was; and his growing paranoia of being found kept him on the move as much as possible.

It didn't help that fate seemed to be taking every possible potshot at him, either.

Of course, while Zane was thinking about his horrible luck, he had another bout of horrible luck. Zane froze, listening to the shouts and barks of what was clearly a search party, hoping with all his might that he wasn't the goal. Like a shadow, Zane crept off into the darker parts of the woods, hiding himself in a dry riverbed, under an overhang at the bank. If he remembered his lessons correctly, water loved scents, and treading through a river would be counterproductive to getting away, so hiding in a grove of strong-smelling shrubbery in a dry riverbed seemed like the best option. Zane could only hope it was.