Hunter, Juggernaut, Assassin, Warrior (DNF)

Rose Thorns

((TW // Blood, execution ))

"Hey!" It was a nameless guard who spoke. One of Ember's men. He probably wasn't even a real person. Yet he stood outside of Clay's cell. In his hand he held a torch, and in the other was a black head cover. Clay glanced over his shoulder at the guard.

It was time.

The guard entered the cell and didn't speak. He simply placed the bag over Clay's head and tightened the drawstrings so it wouldn't fall off. Clay felt the man move around, unchaining him from the floor but then forcing Clay to his feet. It was the first time in days that Clay walked more than a foot or two. His legs felt weak as he walked, like they'd give out any moment.

It was funny to him. This whole thing was funny. He had a bag over his head and yet he knew every turn and every hall he trailed down. He knew exactly which doors opened and closed. He grew up in the castle and knew everything. Was this some sort of torture before he'd meet his end? Ember always liked to play games like this.

The guard made him make hast. They traveled down the stone corridors with speed. Were they late perhaps? Clay took his time with his steps though. This just might be the very last time he ever walked down these halls.

He couldn't help the fact that memories of his youth filled his mind as he walked on. Was this his whole life flashing before his eyes? He wasn't scared strangely, he was angry though. Beyond pissed, and the rage only grew as he heard the grand wooden doors open.

Warm sunlight trickled down Clay's skin as he was brought outside. The light warmed his icy cold skin much to Clay's delight. At least he'd die warm, at least he had that. Clay allowed a somber smile to grace his mouth as he listened to the sweet birds sing. He didn't hear a crowd, or really any people at all. Ember must have declared this a private affair.
He was guided up wooden stairs to what he assumed was the platform on which would take his every life. He couldn't guess the methods in which Ember might use. None of which seemed like a satisfying end for her. She'd do something flashy, something twisted.

The back of Clay's legs were kicked out, causing him to fall onto his knees. He was chained to the floor again. Perhaps a decapitation. Clay wouldn't have doubted it. The bag was ripped off his head. Clay flinched at the sudden brightness, taking a moment to adjust to the light. He was in the throne room of the castle. The sunlight was trickling in through the massive stained-glass windows that layered the upper walls and roof. Beams of color shot through the windows, dappling the stone room with rainbows.

But something was amiss here. Pillars of obsidian had been built around the large room. On top of the pillars were purple crystals floating over a bedrock base. Some crystals had cages around them and others were free. Clay took note of these pillars.

"Pathetic. Is there even any strength left in your sorrowful bones?" Clay looked off to the right of him to see Ember. She was dressed in slim black trousers and a blouse. Around her waist was a belt, attached to that was a sword of ebony and a hand-crossbow.

Next to Ember was each hunter. George was the closest, then Ant, Sapnap and finally Bad. Each one was dressed in some form of fancy wear. She turned Clay's execution into a formal event. She was always one for a show. Each hunter looked scared, defeated, and helpless. George's gaze was glued to the floor, he didn't dare look at Clay.

When Clay didn't respond to Ember's taunt, she grew resentful. She wanted a reaction, so a reaction she would get. She walked in front of him and kneeled down, grazing her fingers underneath Clay's chin and lifted it up. Ember's gaze of amethysts met Clay's eyes of sharp emeralds.

"You have your father's eyes..." Ember breathed out as the distance between hers and Clay's faces closed.

"Heh-" Clay scoffed as he spat out, spitting into Ember's face.