I decide to sit down cross-legged in a billowing ball of black fumes. Black is sometimes a good colour and other times it is terrible. It is the trickiest colour to anticipate because it means that the fumes are going to be devoid of something. What that something is, no one can possibly know. I pity the guides going through Fael today. I probably would have either canceled or not killed… no, never again. I shall not kill again, regardless of fume colour or situation. Oh Savra, how am I going to protect myself without you? It feels almost blasphemous to be without her. When I was on trial, Savra was locked away but even though that took a long while to complete, I never really felt away from her. She was pulled from my grasp and I knew we’d reunite at some point. If the death sentence was the decision, I probably would have actively tried to get to her and take my own life but now… this is different. She is gone because I let go – I let her down – I betrayed her – I need to get her back. Or do I? What is the value of such an evil blade? Why do I want a weapon that can cut through clothes, flesh, and bone in a single easy stroke? I could use any knife and have a similar result, why do I need a blade that will kill? Truth be told, I do not. It does make me wonder why I was even given Savra back. A dreg knife is valuable beyond merely the sum of its parts. Of course, a weapon made from dreg will always be valuable, but a well-crafted weapon that has countless other uses? Why potentially have it get lost in Langnet’s road? It is not like Savra is sentient or anything, and although I can emphasize with people not wanting to wield a weapon that has caused so much blood… so much blood – no, I need to move on. I need to focus. Focus on what? Survival? If that was my focus, Savra would still be in my hands. I am here not for survival but for redemption. That is the goal – the aim which is far beyond my reach but what I will strive foolishly for. What is a human if not a ball of contradictions, emotion, and revenge. Revenge, huh? The Watcher really is human in many regards if revenge is one of its motives.
The smoke is changing… disappearing – the blurriness gives way to a beautiful beam of light. Several beams of light. Light that gently kisses my forehead with warmth. Light that touches my soul and warms the cold dead empty heart I once had with illogical thoughts like redemption and love. I… I wish I still loved the dark. At least then I would not be striving for something that I know will never really occur. A voice… a deep voice is speaking. I can’t make out any words though – perhaps if I focus…
“…awake, Fa Fumerunner?”
Mmm, opening my eyes properly hurts. Everything hurts, especially my legs and chest. I must be a ball of bruises and cuts after that fall. Even with all my might, my eyes just flutter open and then close. Damn, my body is not very responsive either. I swear the fall wasn’t that far – perhaps it was just at a strange angle? Perhaps I have been drugged and am being taken away somewhere? I… I might have usually reveled in that idea but it terrifies me to my core. Every second I can’t take steps towards my redemption is a moment that is lost.
“Are… awake.. Fa?”
Deep breaths, I got this.
“Are you awake, Fa Fumerunner?”
Third time is the charm.
I groan out “I’m… awake.” Not the most graceful of tones, but better than nothing, I suppose.
“Well, you need to wake up sooner rather than later. When you have gotten to your senses, you will know why. Oh, also, your knife,” What happened to Savra. Please, tell me they have taken her away. “-is being held for now.” Good but also not. What do they mean by 'for now'? Take her away from me! “It will be returned when you are sent back into Langnet’s road.” No no no no no please no.
“I… don’t… want the knife. Keep it.”
“Huh? What was that? I can’t really hear or understand you so ill be back when you are properly awake. Also, do not be alarmed by the cage you are in. I am sure you understand that protection is needed for both the civilians, and for you. An angry mob can most definitely tear you apart with their bare hands if given the chance.”
A cage, huh? Sunlight breaks through the bars of another cage. At least this is back to how it was, not that I want to return to what I was. I need to get my opinion known, and soon – fuck, no matter how hard I try, sleep just wants to take me back into its cold and cruel embrace. When I wake up, I better not have Savra by my side. I… I don’t know what id do if she was there. Watching me. Judging me. Reminding me.
The fumes are a subtle somewhat clear red on the outside and pitch black in the middle. I am wide awake now but cannot do anything to help my situation. I wonder what other people dream of – what is a dream if not a guide to your plane? Dreams are a valuable source of information and forgetting one’s dream is quite a terrible feeling. You can quite literally kill someone beacuse of that. Or by misremembering. Or... on purpose. Do Cliffclimbers dream of climbing endless cliffs? Do they see where all the good spots to rest are and figure out which stones are about to break? That… that can't be it, for that knowledge can be easily obtained by someone who is experienced in climbing. Fumes make sense, because no one can possibly know what fumes will be released on the day outside of those who dream of fumes. Funnily enough, I suppose with my dreams, I can give a lot of value. That was… an option given to me in trial, but was eventually ruled out as an option because I could easily kill people by leading them into toxic mists for no reason. Truly no reason outside of my own idiotic ideals and desire to be praised by myself for another great kill. Great kill. Two words that do not belong together. There is nothing great about killing – if anything, killing ends greatness. It stops any form of greatness from occurring even if there was a possibility. Oh, how different the world would be if I was just… dead. Gone. Never to be thought of or talked about. If only I was never born – never given the chance to be so twisted and evil that I augmented the very fabric of society. The fumes beautifully dance through the air – wisps of good and bad fortunes. I wonder why Fael created the fumes to be so confusing and intricate? I wonder how the Fumerunners and other Fael based families got the ability to read the colours and density of fume clouds to determine their effects. Was this a gift out of love, or out of revenge? Perhaps the other gods gave blessings to humans born in and near their areas so it was just a thing and was neither out of love or revenge, but out of ‘that just is how we do things’.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The mists vanish suddenly as I am dragged forward.
Shouts. Noise. So much noise. It hurts my ears. My heart is beating out of my chest – there is so much noise that I can feel the air crushing down on my brain. I feel like I am about to burst. I finally open my eyes… eyes. So many eyes. Not a vortex of purple but of every colour. It is like I am in a parade, except I am the attraction. And everyone hates me with their very souls. Everyone loathes my very existence. Each face, each stare cuts deeper than a million knives. There are chants as well.
“Kill the Killer!”
“Guards are useless – how did you let him escape!?”
“We need to give him proper justice!”
And it keeps going on. I slowly manage to lift myself into a seating position. The bars are ever so slightly warm from the sun. I can do nothing by looking around in absolute speechless awe. It is like the entire plane came out to shout insults, profanities, and hatred my way. I do not blame them; I deserve such a greeting after breaking out of my cell but… it… it cuts deep. Why try to be someone good and worthy of redemption when it is impossible to do so. Look at me – none of this horde would dare look at me with a smile. Why would they? I am the worst of the worst – but I still want to be seen as good! Seen as someone who made many, many mistakes in life but has a chance to turn it around. All I need is that chance and I will do my best. There are countless people around, ferociously engrossed with writing down everything that is happening. Perhaps this… is an opportunity to plant a seed of goodwill that might grow into a glorious tree if given the chance to be watered. I stand up, although the cage is not tall enough for my whole body. I still feel weak and groggy, and my legs are screaming at me to sit back down but this is important.
Remember Fa, there are three outcomes here. Number one, people hate my guts and continue hating them. Number two is they take my words to heart and allow so good to take root or three, I am completely ignored or drowned out. The last terrifies me – I am good at getting attention. Everyone was quiet and listened to me during the trial. Even when the riots outside of the guard’s office were raging on, I was there bemused and still able to speak and be heard. This is not amusing in the slightest though. Deep breath, Fa. You can do this. Let this be the start of something magical.
“Hello everyone!” my voice is a little too quiet right now – don’t stop Fa, it will warm up. “I have something important to say!” The carriage stops. The massive endless ocean of heads stare in my direction. The guard in front just looks at me with… anger? No, it is like he is expecting me to say that I killed someone while I was released. This pause is going on for too long.
“I did escape my cell, but not because I wanted to commit an evil deed. It was because of a vision I had in Langnet’s road. It is because I wanted to be forgiven! It is because I want to be worthy of redemption and given a second chance at my life! I swear – I pledge to you all. On my life and everything I hold dear, I shall never take another life or harm another person. I shall do my duty and pay off my collar. I shall prove to you all that I am worthy of trust, even though I did truly terrible acts.”
The entire mob is speechless. The driver just has their mouth open. It is… a good outcome? I must keep striking while the iron is hot!
“I never go back on my word! In trial, I said that I’d show every single victim I had and where their bodies were buried, and I did. I gave everyone my word that I would do the death row’s march and I did! I have completed two marches now and will most likely be going on my third shortly! Please, I am not worthy of a second chance – I cannot fathom exactly how much pain and strife I caused you all, but I am here with my heart on my sleeve. I will never harm again. If I can prove to you all that I wish to be good and have it in me, will you all give me a second chance?”
Have… have I done it?
There is silence. Not a single muscle moves. The air is so thick with tension that I can almost swim through it.
A collective breath is taken.
The eyes and demeanor change.
There is no anger there. No, it is not anger. It is a sheer lust for revenge. My words have reached many, but this is just fuel on the fire. Perhaps some will believe me. Perhaps there will be a few positive reactions deep within a cacophony of hatred?
The guard snaps a whip and the horse starts walking, then trotting, and finally moving with all its speed and might.
BANG
I crash against the cage’s wooden floor. Going fast over cobblestone is not great for balance it seems.
“You are a fucking idiot, Fa. Stoking the fires of hatred like that is going to get us both killed! Did you want to start a war after that speech? Now people are going to believe that I and the guards endorse your vision and that is why you were let out – let out, and not that you escaped.”
“But I… I just wanted to show that I can do good. That I can be good-”
“You know what would be good? If you got back in your fucking cell and went back on the road. Got the fuck away from this place. Good? How dare you even mutter those words. I would kill you if it wasn’t my job to guard you.”
“But-”
“Shut the fuck up, Fa Fumerunner. One more word and this cart stops, and I unlock the cage, and let this massive mob tear you limb from limb.”
I want to say something but the guard is right. This was stupid. I know this is stupid. I know this will never end up well. I know there is such a small chance that redemption is on the horizon or even in the same stratosphere as myself but... but there is potential. There is a chance, and I saw that chance firsthand. Statue, without you I would never have known what love felt like, and would have not taken this first step. A seed has been planted now. Perhaps it will grow into a beautiful apple tree or willow one day.