26. Kieran

26

KIERAN

I'd never been to an execution before, so I supposed it was fitting that my first one would be my own. Despite my bold words to my father, I found that I wasn't nearly as confident now as I was then that I would somehow manage to avoid my untimely death.

It didn't help that thoughts of my mother weighed heavily on me, dragging me beneath the crushing weight of sadness, of grief , with each tortured memory.

When I left my family home, I had been well aware that I probably wouldn't see her again. I had never expected this outcome, though— I never expected her to kill herself. While my father's words hurt, I couldn't blame myself for her death. I did, however, grieve her loss. There was always a distance between us that felt insurmountable, but I wished that I could have thanked her one last time for shielding me from my father's rage for all those years.

Then again, if I didn't find a way out of this situation, maybe I would have the opportunity to thank her soon enough.

"Forward. Move it." I narrowed my eyes at the soldier that walked past me, clearly someone who viewed himself as important.

Forward .

Unfortunately, there was only one thing that stood in front of me that I could focus on and it was the massive wooden platform in the distance. It was beyond clear that my father had been very confident in his ability to capture me—because everything had already been put into place for my execution.

A sense of sadness and disappointment outlined the anger and determination I felt to get out of this situation. Sadness and disappointment at the concept that the man responsible for literally half of me could so easily decide he wanted to remove me from this reality.

Honestly, I don't think he ever considered another solution to the problem that I presented for him, even before knowing about my dead affinity. In my father's head, there was no way I could be allowed to live, to continue to bring the shame he believed I represented to the family name. He would kill his only child in an effort to preserve his pride and ego.

It was a wonder that I didn't recognize how outright crazy he was earlier than I did.

As I was led through the jail toward the front doors, my brain pulled a memory to the forefront of my mind. It was one of the many times he decided to use me to make a point to others, just as he was doing now.

"I really don't think this is necessary," I whispered, feeling my stomach drop as my hands grew shaky. I hadn't meant to sleep in, but I had been trying so hard to prepare for the exam today that I'd been exhausted and missed my alarm.

My father had pulled me from the house after my mother had woken me up, and I was now stumbling, more like falling, behind him as we approached the academy.

"It is absolutely necessary. You are lazy. Spoiled. Forgetful."

The academy doors opened to let us through, and I tried to pull away from his white-knuckled grip on my arm. The look he offered was deadly, causing me to straighten before swallowing nervously. Without a word, I followed behind him through the empty halls of the academy, everyone else was already in class or in testing. I knew it wasn't worth fighting him when he was in this type of mood.

I winced as he used his fist to push open my classroom door, the wood swinging in and instantly drawing over fifty pairs of eyes toward me. My teacher, Miss Tracey, looked at me in surprise before offering a polite nod to my father.

"Archangel, I didn't expect you to stop by today. Welcome."

"Unfortunately, it isn't for a good reason. I am here to deliver my daughter and to have her apologize for her insolence." His glare moved in my direction, and I shrank as far away from his ire as his ironclad grip on my arm would allow. "Say sorry and then sit."

"Sorry," I whispered. Shame and embarrassment heated my cheeks as I pulled from his grip and sat down in the closest chair, looks of pity and even amusement being cast my way from my peers. My father didn't leave it at that, though, his voice loud and booming.

"All of you should look to Kieran as an example of what not to do—your exams are an important precedent to your affinity placement testing. Take them seriously."

With that, he was gone.

I had thought that was bad, but throughout the years, his mental abuse had only grown worse, accumulating to the point that it had before I left Alfemir. And as I walked outside, the evening sun beating down in the last throes of daylight, it was clear that he planned on making an absolute spectacle of this as well.

In the distance, in the center pavilion of the military camp of Alfemir, stood a massive wooden tower that seemed about three stories high. It had been used in the past for festivals, but it seemed that it would now serve a far darker purpose.

Although, one might hardly guess that right now. Everything was bathed in an oddly beautiful, warm glow from the buildings reflecting the setting sun as dusk approached. The street lamps added to the ambiance that countered such a dark atmosphere and the tension that ran through the sizable crowd.

A path large enough for me and the group of soldiers escorting me led from the jail to the platform, though individuals crowded on all sides of the barrier that was put up to keep the pathway clear. I didn't see any faces I recognized as I was led forward, forcing my head up and refusing to look scared. As the chain drug in the path before me, I tried to focus on anything other than the pain radiating through every part of my body. I was finding it impossible, though.

When they had come to get me from my cell, I had been rushed by the four guards, one of whom had immediately put a piece of cloth over my mouth. The scent disoriented me momentarily as they untied my feet and pulled me to a standing position.

They hadn't forced me to retract my wings, but they had pushed them to lay against my back and bound a rope around my torso, including my wings, so I would be unable to fly. Both my body and my wings throbbed in agony, but there was nothing I could do. The chains that were latched to the metal cuffs adoring my wrists were heavy, weighing me down as the soldiers on either side of me held the ends and led me forward. I had absolutely no idea how I would get out of this—but I had to.

Death was absolutely not an option.

As we drew closer to the platform, I studied the faces of the strangers I passed, some of their gazes sad and almost cautious. I wasn't sure what story they had been told, but I figured that if my charges were read publicly, I would find out quickly enough. I had to assume that the only way my father had justified an execution of this level was claiming that I had committed treason against Alfemir.

Suddenly, the sound of reverberating ceremonial drums suddenly echoed through the plaza and nerves began to prickle through my system. The heavy, foreboding sound caused my heart to palpitate wildly in my chest. I tightened my hands into fists, trying desperately to hold onto my stability and sanity, refusing to let fear overwhelm me.

The one thought that continued to pull at me, the small seed of hope that I carried, was the knowledge that, due to the note I left, the boys not only knew I had gone to the cave entrance this morning but that they would realize I never returned. If I couldn't find a way out of this, I had to hope they would put two and two together and be able to come here, to help me, with enough time to spare.

Although, I had to admit we were cutting it a bit close here.

When I reached the base of the platform, several guards stationed themselves at the bottom of the stairs as the two holding my chains began to guide me up the winding staircase toward the top. The wood creaked loudly beneath my feet, and my heart began to beat wildly. We reached the top after what felt like hours, where we found several guards and my father standing there, awaiting my arrival. My eyes locked with his excited gaze and he offered me a smirk, nodding toward a man in all black who held a dangerous looking longsword.

Shit. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what the weapon was—the black metal glinted underneath the setting sun and the length was twice that of a normal sword. Divina Mors. The sword was called the Divine Death, and in the academy we had learned that the sword was used in executions because it both drained the blessed power from angels and reduced their physical form to a dried-out corpse that could be preserved and buried. There had been pictures to accompany the text but nothing compared to seeing the terrifying sword in person.

Had poison not been an option? Not that I planned on dying, but it felt like there were far more civil ways to kill your daughter than to practically cut her heart out in front of everyone. Wonderful—just fucking wonderful.

I felt myself pale as my breathing turned rapid, my gaze running over the official who stood toward the front of the platform, his gaze on the crowd instead of me. He held a piece of paper and appeared to be waiting on some type of cue as the soldiers led me to the center of the platform to face down the large, undulating mass of people.

As I eyed the crowd, they gathered closer and filled in the pathway that had allowed me to reach here. I had to wonder if the whole of Alfemir hadn't shown up—considering how rare a public execution was, seeing the entire population here didn't fully surprise me. Even the Archangels stood on a balcony that jutted from one of the nearby buildings, watching with a cool disinterest. The sight of them, with their carefully school expressions, made me furious, especially considering that this was my life in question. Although, considering what the Archangels were comfortable hiding from everyone, their indifference didn't really surprise me.

Suddenly, the loud voice of the serious and solemn man facing the crowd echoed through the plaza. "Today, we have gathered to witness the execution of a traitor to our great nation. An offspring of one of our own, who willingly became a fallen, to aid in the rebellion that seeks to destroy us."

So that was the story he was going with .

"She is the worst representation of us. To serve as an example to others, her death will stand as a symbol of our unity and our ability to fight against these disgusting creatures who have fallen from divine glory. She will serve as a symbol of our future victory and their destruction."

The malice embedded in his words caused me to flinch as a faltering breath puffed from my lips.

"As a customary measure, we offer the sentenced their last word. This is not a defense, nothing you say can change the punishment to be delivered, but rather an accommodation. Kieran, if you have anything to say, now is the time."

I wanted to scoff and only barely resisted the urge to do so. Why would they have a justice system that actually worked to the benefit of both parties? That would be ridiculous.

Looking out at the crowd, I realized this was my only chance at delaying what was becoming an increasingly scary situation, especially with my wings bound and hands chained. Suddenly, a thought hit me and I looked out toward the crowd, allowing my voice to rise loudly enough that I hoped everyone could hear me.

"He is not wrong. I did flea Alfemir and join the Rebellion…but that wasn't my intention. Rather, I left to avoid the sentencing that I knew was coming anyway. I knew I would be cast aside because of my lack of an affinity. Because time and time again, I failed my placement test." Silence echoed but I saw a few head nods, potentially understanding where I came from, which lent me the smallest amount of confidence.

"And what I found in the rebellion and what I learned illuminated so much to me. We have been lied to! An entire history has been removed from all of our minds?—"

Suddenly, I could see out of my peripheral vision that my father darted forward, probably in an effort to stop me from speaking. In a surprising move, one of the guards stopped him. I didn't hesitate to continue, taking advantage of the stroke of luck and interest on their end, knowing I didn't have long to speak my piece.

"I have an affinity, but not one that is tested for because it's considered to bea dead affinity—I'm a Star Keeper. A type of affinity, like several others, that were wiped out completely by our own people, something the Archangels are very aware of!"

The low hush of shocked whispers began to filter through the crowd, causing me to shout as I saw Archangels rise from their seats. Their bodies angled in my direction as their wings expanded. "Long ago, a group of powerful angels formed a rebellion that wanted to challenge the divine—it resulted in a civil war where thousands from both sides were killed. When it was finally settled, the government killed all those who had the same affinity as the leaders of the rebellion and ordered a mind wipe to remove the memories from everyone else. They have been lying to you, and the Archangels know the truth?—"

A large body suddenly slammed into me, causing me to nearly fall off the platform. I landed instead with a hard thud right on the edge. I hissed realizing it was my father who had tackled me as shouting exploded from the crowd down below. Angry shouting. Good. They should be angry.

But above the din of the angry crowd, I heard it . The sound of war horns—wyvern war horns.