Chapter 1: The Start

'Anytime I grab my ax and hold it high above my head, I imagine the head tied down onto the Splitting Stone as a log. Although, it would be a screaming log, it won't remove my transgressions, it makes my job bearable. Crick. The sound of a fresh neck being separated from its head as the blade strikes the stone, is a haunting sound. I’ve grown to tune out the horrible screams of agony and just focus on the sound when the ax meets the stone. I am the headsman of my city, Carcas; I don’t enjoy my job, but my city had to choose a new headsman after the passing of the previous one. I was chosen for this job because my father lost in a game of dice to the king of our country. My father is a merchant and friend of King Satir, the ruler of Satiron. I wish I could have opposed my father, but it was the only job someone of my stature could get, I had the muscles to hold the ax, but not the voice to announce my presence. I used to have a voice, I wanted to become a bard, traveling the world telling stories of great heroes that conquered the battlefield, but one slash to my throat with a rusty blade ended my dreams. The days I spent on my knees praying to God to answer my prayers, yet to no avail, I can only mime and kill.' He thought.

“Archonius, your father wants to see you outside.” His mother told him, opening the door to his room, she was a tall woman about the height of a door and just as stocky, but her motherly demeanor departed from Archonius when he had gone silent. She used to enjoy hearing his songs, and the stories he had learned throughout the day. They lived in a two-story house made of stone in the nobleman’s section of the city. It had three bedrooms, one for himself, his brother, and his parents. The reliever was on the first floor of their house near the storage room, and the kitchen and dining area were on the sides to both the front door and the backdoor. The nobleman’s section is close to the king’s castle that's right in the middle of the country, so people from other sections such as the blacksmiths, taverns, cobblers, tailors, miners, farmers, fishermens, builders, grocers, and the common sections gathered in the noblemen’s section to witness the beheadings. Satiron is comprised of flat lands and a mountain range behind it, it's the western most country facing the White Sea. It only has two cities, which are Carcas and the capital city, Pyrach, the Castle extends into Carcas, but most of it is on the border of Pyrach.  Archonius got up from his bed, put on his blood stained gray tunic and gray boots and headed out the door. His attire was something he managed to get from his father, occasionally on his merchant trips he would bring back a souvenir; that was the first souvenir he gave Archonius after he became the headsman. His mother, Lusita, helped his father by selling fruits with the other grocers in the city square meanwhile his brother was a journeyman bladesmith. “Don’t come back until nightfall.” She said. Archonius noticed how his own mother didn’t like looking at him and anytime she got the chance to speak to him she'd avert her eyes, or turn her back. He thought that she thought that his hands were constantly covered in blood, after all he is only a murderer with a fancy title. Oh but that was not the case at all, anytime Lusita sent Archonius away a small inkling of tears would flood out or she would break down in tears and collapse because her son had lost his beautiful voice. On the other hand, his younger brother went off to be a bladesmith and they haven't seen him in two moons. Outside Archonius’ father was standing by his caravan with a group of men. 

“...ying I’ll pay your men to guard my caravans from Carcas to Dauntuzz, of course we’ll share commodities, and once we reach Dauntuzz I’ll pay your group 4 gold Satires.” Archonius’ father was a rather large man, he’s a few otros taller than his mom, he’s so tall that he towers over most men. An otro is a measurement strictly used in Satiron, it is the measurement from the tip of your middle finger to the base of your palm. He wears a round cap on his head so much that most people think it's stuck on his head, he also wears little round spectacles that sit on the bridge of his nose on that round and pudgy face of his. 

“Archonius, you’ve arrived!”  His Father, Tychonius, said, everyday he has his son do some awkward or weird task before he takes his place on the platform. Although Archonius thought he was aiding his father in some long winded plot, Tychonius truly didn’t want his son to be bored on the platform. Archonius nodded, the men he was talking to turned to him and one of them, who looked to be their leader, extended his hand. 

“How’s it goin’ big guy?” The leader said to Archonius he seemed like their leader because he had some sort of presence about him, when he would talk none of his companions would cut him off or interrupt. Archonius nodded and shook his hand, his hand was wrought with calluses and cold. “You don’t say much huh?” He said with a weak smile.

“He’s mute.” Tychonius said flatly. He’s grown quite tired of constantly telling and reminding people that his son is mute that sometimes he just leaves them alone.

“Oh, well what does he do then?” He inquired.

“He’s the headsman,” Tychonius said, then looked turned and looked directly into his son's eyes and continued, “I heard from around the bend that there will be a show tomorrow, so you’d better sharpen that ax, boy.” He always refers to public executions as shows, as if they are entertaining. Although he is not an advocator of violence, he enjoys counting his coins when he’s watching it. Around the bend refers to the guards, or the king himself. “Anyways before you get to the platform, I want you to take the bucket that's around the back and go down to the intersecting river and fill the tub. Archonius grabbed the bucket around the back and took it to the intersecting river; the fastest path to get to the intersecting river was through the South of the nobleman's section, through the road that cuts between the blacksmiths and the miners section, then take a left at the tailors section. Upon reaching the intersection by the blacksmiths, miners, and tailors section there was a crowd formed, all with buckets of their own, getting water from the river. Usually Archonius would wait painstakingly long for his turn to fill up his bucket, run back to pour it in, then come back because the tub looked like it barely had any water in it, or he could attempt to shove his way into the crowd and draw water like he did his first time, but the crowd will punch, push, bite, grab, and throw you in order to get water. He knew of another location to draw water farther down the road between the grocers and the cobblers sections, but he’s never ventured there before. 

The area was rather barren, there was a bridge that led to an open area with a tree which was probably a cemetery, in its defense it is a rather scenic spot for the last time you’ll ever open your eyes, and another bridge that led into Pyrach. Archonius approached the river and extended a hand to scoop some water into his mouth, the water was cool and soothing, he reached back to grab the bucket, but someone’s shadow was casted over it. It was a burly man possibly around his age, dirty blonde hair stacked on his head like a bun and a blonde mustache that you could barely see. Archonius stood up and faced him, he took a few steps back startled from his height, but then put on a surly expression that wasn’t really helping his case.

“You must not be from around here,” he said, he looked up and down his attire then continued, “I don’t know how it is around the blacksmiths section, but this is the cobblers section and in order to use the Intersecting River you have to pay the toll of five silver Satires a bucket.” That’s a lot of Satires; the headsman doesn’t really get much reputation, technically they are murderers, so they usually don’t go outside, but on the occasion you did see them outside such as the previous headsman, you could rob him and get away with it and no one would bat an eye. Luckily Archonius was mistaken for a blacksmith's kid because if even one of them recognizes him, he’ll have to run. When he doesn't respond he looks at Archonius for a long time then his gaze settles on his neck, and his eyes widen suddenly but he smirks and asks, “you got stabbed in the neck or something?” Archonius raises one eyebrow at the question because it honestly sounds kind of stupid, the scar on his neck is about the size of one otro, so if he did get stabbed in the neck by a blade the size of an otro, he wouldn’t have a head. “Too big huh?” He said, getting an answer from his expression, “so someone could’ve slashed and dashed with something like a rock or a knife, or even a shard of glass causing you to be mute, huh?” He asks as Archonius starts nodding, he drops the tough act and sighs shaking his head, “damn, now I feel bad trying to rob a mute blacksmith, but I don’t really have a choice. You wouldn’t know unless I told you, but the cobblers in Zhoten have been taking the business around here, and I don’t get as many customers anymore.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the road behind a cobbler shop, the heads of three shadows were casted increasing in stature. “I can tell from that little look on your face that something must be funny and since you can’t talk there can’t be any jokes you want to tell,” I don’t know what look on Archonius’ face he saw, but he certainly didn’t like it, or he might’ve been making it up. “You must think that not just me, but all the cobblers are dogshit at our jobs!” He yells purposely raising his voice, Archonius gazes past him at the street corner to the cobbler's section that has three shadows moving closer in it. 

Archonius started to regret not leaving when the cobbler approached him. He picked up the bucket that was to the back of his left foot and glanced at the shadows approaching the corner of the cobbler's shop.

“Hey, why’re ya...oh...HEY GUYS HURRY UP HE WANTS TO RUN!” The man yells, the shadows of the three men start moving until Archonius could see two of them. He clenched the handle of the bucket and bolted off, heading in the direction of the crowd that was gathered in front of the blacksmiths section by running alongside the river. When he got there, there were a few stragglers, but most of the crowd had dispersed, so he rounded the corner and ran straight across the intersection and into the tailor’s section. As he was running, a man suddenly came out of one of the tailor shops and bumped right into him, sending his bucket flying to the ground behind him, and the man’s package falling in front of him. The three cobblers arrived with their pieces of wood, and the talkative one with a knuckle duster, “Well, if you didn’t have any money,” the talkative cobbler says while trying to catch his breath, “you should have just said ‘I’m a poor pissant, please forgive me sire.” He said, clasping his hands, “but now, now I have to do something I truly enjoy yet find tiring. Beat the shit out of you and take everything you have. Then you’ll wake up,” he continued, scrunching up his face, “naked and weak willed, and go for a nice long swim.” 

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“Are you done with your speech that made no sense?” The man says, standing while wiping off his garments, he was wearing rather peculiar clothes, long black and blue robes of silk with a rope tied around his waist and shoes made of straw, possibly a man from Zhoten. “Well, if you don’t need anything from me I’ll be on my merry way.” He says attempting to walk off, as one of the cobblers puts his plank in front of him. 

“Eh, I don’t really want you to leave, where are ya from?” The talkative cobbler starts prodding him.

“Come on, you should already know. Why ask such a stupid question, fully knowing the answer?” The Zhotenian said.

“So you’re calling me retarded now? The men from Zhoten really are brutes, brutish men that only know how to dress elegantly, but can't keep their nasty opinions to themselves.” 

“Did you really just make bullshit up out of nowhere, like what do you want, my clothes?”

“Now we're talkin, and all your money and whatever else you might have.”

“You became petty robbers? You guys should have a trade.” The Zhotenian inquired.

“We did have a trade as cobblers, but it fell through, and now quick coin can easily be taken off of other warm or cold bodies.”

“You know for a fact, I'm not giving you anything.”

“What? I thought the men of Zhoten strived to be peaceful in any situation?” the cobbler asked sarcastically.

“Well I’m not a man of Zhoten, I’m Tao Zen Zho.” He said, grabbing the rope on his waist and untying it. It came out with a knot at the end, and he held it like a ball and chain.

“Wow, a rope, oooh!” The cobbler teased, all the cobblers laughed, it was indeed a rope but the knot had glimmers of metal glistening through little cracks in the rope, he started to swing it slowly then ramped up it's speed while holding the other end with his left hand. It started to make an odd noise, like the humming of many birds, when he let go of his right hand and flung the knot right at the nearest cobbler. It connected, bashing the man’s nose, it was greatly disfigured, the tip twisted in another direction, the man fell to his knees crying out and clutching his face. The other three moved forward protecting the man on his knees, huffing and crying.

“Are you going to leave now?”

“Rat bastard, we’re never leaving, and neither are you!” The cobbler on the left said, he had slightly similar features to the man on his knees, brothers probably. Tao spun the rope again, “attack him while he’s spinning it!” They looked for a way to flank him and the brother came in closer on his left side, Tao feigned a swing at him that the cobbler ducked to meet the knot square in the jaw. The cobblers' knees clinked together and gave way, knocked out cold.

“Pick up your guys and leave.” Tao said to the other cobblers, they dropped their planks and dragged their guys away. Tao turned to Archonius, “you can go too, hopefully those guys won’t bother you, or you could try running faster.” He was amazed he had never seen anyone use such an obscure weapon before, that he was still standing there dumbfounded. “What? You’re making me blush, you’ve never seen a weapon like this before I reckon?” Archonius shook his head vigorously, a little grin edging its way onto his face. “You must not say much, silent type eh? Well if you’re not doing anything you can show me around, or I can guess the area with you?” Archonius nodded, Tao reattached the rope to his waist, picked up his package and the pair walked off towards the end of the tailor's street and across a bridge past a back gate that separated the mining district from the other ones. “And I would assume that this is the mining district.” Tao said, you could hear the clinks of pickaxes on rock coming from many of the caverns, men pushing wheelbarrows of ore around the vicinity and little houses with puffs of smoke billowing out from the top. Archonius led him out another gate leading to the nobleman’s district, “I’ve noticed you’ve been holding that bucket for a while now, I know a good place you can find water.” Archonius held it up and tapped the side, Tao led him over to a spot near the wall that was close to the stream but behind some homes; the homes blocked off any access to the stream and began to dig behind one of homes next to the wall under the shade. He dug and dug, and dug some more till he was pulling out sludge, a little spring of water could be seen glimmering in the hole, “if I dig some more we might be able to scoop some water inside the bucket.” He pulled out handfuls of mud until a small pool of water was seen past his hands, Tao grabbed the bucket out of Archonius’ hands and scooped water into it until it was almost full then scooped the dirt back into the hole. 

“Were you surprised that there was water underneath the land, I bet the rulers don’t tell you this everyday? I found it out myself from this book I found in the forests between Zhoten and Satir,” Tao Zen Zho said, pulling out a crusty mud smudged brown book, it had a faded carving of a river and stars in it. A string bookmarked a certain page when he flipped it open, it led to a page that said blood and fire, Tao Zen Zho quickly shut the book. “I’m sorry, I wanted to decipher that page before showing anyone, it has an odd puzzle on it and I wanted to be the first to figure it out.” The day faded out and the stars could be counted over the roofs of houses, “Nice meeting you silent friend, maybe I will see you around for a while before I return to Zhoten.” Tao said running off, leaving Archonius waving at him with the bucket next to his feet.

The next day arrived. The day to end the week and the lives of the weak had come. Although many people believe that there were only a small amount of laws, they didn’t know how easily those laws were exploited, ‘don't commit murder and don't be a sorcerer’. If anyone saw fit you could be a thief and a sorcerer, a sorcerer with the ability to steal items. Archonius spent that entire day sharpening his blade, making sure his hood fit snugly on his head as it always did, and making sure his splitting stone was slightly clean because when dusk arrived his only prerogative was chopping heads. He was instructed to sharpen his ax to the point that he could make an indentation on the splitting stone. The number of prisoners that day was the same as usual, the classic two to four, today it would be four. Archonius had a hood, but the prisoners did not have a hood, for everyone, especially the king, wanted to see their faces; today in particular he was standing on the platform, which he had never done before. 

“People of Satir, it is with a heavy heart but a strong firm hand, I must tell you this news that today amongst these heathens, there was one man who dared use a book of sorcery to try and trick me, but a brave man in my court caught this, this fiend, and he’s at the back of the line waiting to be executed!” He turned to Archonius and whispered, “make sure you kill the last one as slow as possible if you can.”  The prisoners shuffled up the steps, their rattling chains and pitiful pleas could be heard then an abrupt stop and plop as their head was cut off, Archonius had grown out of his phase of prolonging the prisoners pain that these days he could cut off necks in two to three swings, after their heads were cut off there was a small opening that they would fall through. The guards would pick up the body, blood still gushing out and dump it off the back of the platform, the stone was reset with a fresh new head and then the cycle continued until the last prisoner stepped onto the platform. 

The last prisoner with the book of sorcery was Tao Zen Zho, the man that had saved Archonius from the cobblers, and showed him how to draw water from the ground, but Tao was just misunderstood he had gone to the palace with the book, to advise the king into building wells around his kingdom so the people would have easier access to water instead of being hustled by cobblers. But a certain man with deep pockets and a big mouth grew curious about the book Tao Zen Zho held, and took it and flipped to a bookmarked page that questioned Tao Zen Zho’s character. He was then briefly questioned in a period where he maintained his innocence, and was still sentenced to death for it. On the splitting stone he laid his head, his shackled hands clasped next to his knees, as a red moon enveloped the sky. 

“Sorcery!” A man yelled, Archonius looked over in the man’s direction and saw that it was his father pushing his way to the front, “that man is a sorcerer he had a book that said blood and fire, clearly he means to rain fire on us and the blood moon is simply a sign. Hurry and kill him!” Archonius was troubled, he didn’t know the man well, but he knew the man and saw him as an acquaintance that he might see later in life on some road near Zhoten gathering herbs or healing lame animals. The man that accused him of sorcery was his father and right now he, and the king were demanding the death of his only acquaintance and maybe friend. Tao Zen Zho tilted his head to look into Archonius’ eyes and said a few things.

“The day that may come, will be a blood stained day, it may be at the most uncertain of times when you don't know what to do when all that is left to do is to strike a man down. I tell you now there will be many bodies piled up in corners, misers and mice, fools and kings, all their bodies piled into corners, all those who sow war, reap death.” Tao Zen Zho said, smiling up at him, “let me go, my curse is now yours.” He said softly and closed his eyes, as Archonius guided his ax through the man’s neck. The blood splattered and shot everywhere, a stream hit Archonius in the eyes, blinding him for a second as he dropped his ax on the platform to wipe his eyes. When he felt as if he had wiped it all away he opened his eyes to red. Everything was red, the air was red, his hands were red, covered in a darker shade of red, he looked into the crowd seeing gray figures and red numbers. Everyone in the crowd had a red number floating above their gray heads, most had 0, but others had various numbers, none exceeding 100, his father had 5 while the king had 33. He picked up his ax and chopped at Tao’s head until it was completely severed and wiped his ax before slotting it into the horizontal beam he usually leaves it in. He waited on the stage for the crowd to disperse. “Worry not at all my people, the menace is dead, the moon will return to its color in due time.” The king said letting all the people shuffle away Archonius headed for the stream to wash his face and saw the number 721 above his head. Archonius’ father beckoned  him over to where he was standing with the king, “Take off that hood boy, I’m going to need you to follow me when I go to Dauntuzz with those mercenaries, your mother doesn’t want you at home, and the trip shouldn’t last too long, we leave tomorrow morning. Now go inside and rest.” He says patting Archonius on the shoulder as he continues talking with the king.