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Fluixon believed that, in many ways, boring days were the best types of days. Days where he and Saparata would lay on their backs in knee deep snow and stare up at the sky, watching icy flakes drift lazily down from above as they listened to the distant murmur of the town square. Even though it was mind boggling-ly monotonous, it was safe.
There was no attention to them. It was safe.
He knew Saparata was not one to simply bear the dull days, head hung low enough to avoid the gaze of any guard roaming the streets. One time he threw a pebble at one such guard, when they were younger and still in school. He was lucky enough to get off with only a black eye that day.
That’s why when he caught wind of the President planning a visit to their district, Fluixon planned to keep both him and Saparata at a distance where they wouldn’t be seen as disloyal to one of their great leaders, but far enough to not catch anyone's eyes.
They would just be two boys, steadfast in their loyalty to the government of Imperia, and nothing more.
Fluixon knew deep in his heart that something was bound to go wrong.
“I just wanna get a little bit closer!” Saparata inched forward through the crowd. The sound of cheering and thundering hoof-beats drowned out most of his words. Fluixon attempted to grab the end of his heavy, white cloak but accidentally grabbed onto a random citizen's arm. He mumbled out an apology as he pushed his way to Saparata.
They both reached a large lantern post, its foundation made of heavy, snow-coated concrete. Saparata climbed his way onto its ledge, now able to see high above the rest of the crowd’s heads.
Saps’s face split into a large, toothy grin, “Aha! This view is awesome!”
“Please, just get down now.” Fluixon hissed out his gritted teeth, whipping his head over his shoulders to check nobody was looking at them. All eyes remained on the President and his parade through the street.
“Ok, ok.” Saps sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders back in exasperation, before he stopped with a sly little look on his face. “But first…”
Fluixon didn’t even have time to process his words before he balled up the wet snow at his feet and threw it as hard as he could towards where the President rode on his steed.
The silence that filled the air was even more deafening than the previous incessant cheers and cries of loving citizens.
Flux heard the dull thump of a snowball hitting its mark.
The shock on Saparata’s face showed that he had no faith his impromptu projectile would hit its mark. Fluxion's legs locked in place as he heard the angry cries of the President’s guards.
Don’t run.
Saparata jumped from the ledge and took off down an alleyway. Fluixon remained as still as the shocked crowd around him.
Don’t bring attention to yourself.
He parted with the crowd as they let a mob of soldiers rush past them.
Do not give them any reason to chase you. You had no part in this.
Saparata, why couldn’t you just be boring?
The crowd began to flee back to their shops and homes in a hurry as the President was escorted away with a grin, his booming voice calling for his citizens not to worry and that everything was under control. Fluixon stayed in place, waiting.
Both he and Saparata had lived in this little town in their little district all their lives. They both knew that the alleyway only held a dead end.
When Saparata was dragged back out, yelling and screaming, Fluixon tried his hardest not to run up to those guards and plead his case. He had seen a mother once try to beg for her son's life as they dragged him, too, to the gallows. In the end she joined her son in death.
“I didn’t do it, I swear!” His voice cracked fearfully, and Fluixon had to turn away.
By what Fluixon considered to be a stroke of God, Saparata didn’t immediately get thrown to that ever-spanning gallows bordering the frozen over pond. He watched from a distance as the giant wooden doors to the district prison engulfed his friend.
Fluixon sank to his knees as snow lazily drifted down from above.
—
At some point he must’ve fallen asleep.
The heavily clanking of armor and the sound of someone screaming woke him abruptly. Fluixon shook off the snow that had accumulated on him as he jolted upwards. The sun was only just beginning to creep over the horizon line. Windows on the street creaked open as many of the district's residents were awakened much like Fluixon.
Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Fluixon got a better view of where the commotion was originating from.
The first thing that struck him was how little Saparata looked like himself. He no longer was wearing his white winter cloak, and his shirt was ripped and stained. His hair was pulled from its usual regal up-do, and now sat tangled and matted at his shoulders. There was now a tightly drawn… bandage(?) bound over his eyes. As he got closer, the red staining on the material became more and more apparent.
The next thing Fluixon registered was what was being shouted.
“Where are you taking me?” “Please, I'm so sorry!”
Saparata repeated those two lines over and over, his voice hoarse and desperate. Fluixon stood silently as they passed him down the street, eyes distant and unseeing.
He then began to run.
“Hey, hey!”
A single soldier whipped their head to him as he chased after them. Saps heard his shout, “Flux? Flux! Tell them to let me go!” Saparata locked his legs in place, bracing himself against the two guards guiding him down the street. One of the soldiers kicked him harshly in the back of his knee, forcing him to lose his balance, before beginning to fully drag him on their forward march.
Fluixon tried to run past the stopped guard, but was grabbed by a harsh, cold gauntlet and pulled backwards.
“This isn’t fair he didn’t do anything wrong I swear it!”
The guard didn’t pity him, or pay any heed to his begging. “So, you’re telling me that this boy lied then? Because I was in the room when he confessed.” They only seemed amused by the whole situation. “Ya’ know, giving false statements to an agent of the law is a crime punishable by death.”
“Lion, get your ass back over here!” Someone shouted from ahead of them.
The person in front of him heaved out a sigh, before releasing their grip on Fluixon’s jacket. They then winded back a fist and hit him directly across his nose. Pain burst across his face as he fell to the cobblestone ground. His vision was blurred but he could clearly see a deep red pooling on the pure white snow beneath him.
“You’re real lucky, kid.”
With trembling arms, Fluixon attempted to heave himself upwards as the metallic footsteps and desperate wailing faded down the road. He managed to flip himself onto his back as he felt the sensation of warm blood pool out of his nose and the taste of iron fill his mouth.
He so desperately wanted this to be a bad dream, and when he would wake up, Saparata would be there, full of fiery determination and a good soul.
Fluixon wasn’t sure how long it took him to reach that icy gallows, but by the time he arrived, Saparata was deadly quiet. Flux watched from above the carved out cliff as tears dripped freely down Saps’s face as he stood there, now tightly secured to a rocky wall by metal cuffs around his wrists.
A line of soldiers stood in front him, all equipped with a large, loaded crossbow aimed directly at Saps. President Solev was perched there, too, off to the side with one of his generals. There was no visible emotion on his face, and his lips were curved in an impassive line. His hand was raised slightly above his head, ready to give the command to shoot.
This can’t be real.
Solev whispered something to the general beside him.
This isn’t real.
The raised hand closed into a fist, commanding those inscrutable faced guards to pull their trigger.