Hey. If you've been reading my other fic “Fear and Blood” then you might remember that I mentioned an extract from another story I had been writing. You probably won't understand what's going on but that's fine, I only want to know if it sounds interesting enough for me to continue the story, so please read and tell me what you think.

He opened swollen eyes slowly, not really sure if he had just regained conciousness or if he just hadn't been aware of himself before. The sight that met his eyes after they cleared made him frown.

A crowd? A large crowd. Hundreds, no, thousands of people. They were watching him in silence. Not a sound was made, not even the wind. Why were they watching him? He tried to look around, but a sharp pain in the back of his head made him stop.

If only he could think clearly, if only the splitting headache wasn't preventing him from remembering what had happened before, or where he was now. Why was he in front of so many people? Why were they watching him, looking so grim? Why was he in so much pain?

With that thought came the full realisation of the pain the filled his body. Not only his head ached. His chest burned like fire and he found it hard to draw breath. He's legs shook, he couldn't move most of his fingers and his face felt swollen and puffy.

The sun beat down on him as he stood there for minutes. Hours? But still he couldn't remember. Sweat dripped of his face, into his eyes, but he kept them open. He needed to know what had happened and why he was here.

He tried to move his arms, to wipe his face, but found the rope around his wrists prevented that. Why were his hands tied? No, that didn't matter, not yet anyway. What mattered was why he was there. Why were so many people there? What were they waiting for?

The sun was really hot, burning. He looked up and felt something thick and rough shift slightly around his neck. This, like the ropes around his wrists, was ignored. Almost midday. Midday, there was something important about midday, but he couldn't remember what.

He turned back to the crowd. Maybe he would find answers among them. Maybe they would know why he was there. Thousands of people gathered in one place had to know what they were waiting for.

It was only then that he noticed their attention had shifted off him and onto something behind him. He tried to turn, to see what they were looking at, but the pain in his head sent sparks across his vision.

When his vision cleared he realised that someone was talking. There voice was a deep, unfeeling monotone and they spoke as if they were reading of a page. He couldn't catch every word, for some reason his ears felt blocked. Crime was one word that he was able to make out, another sounded like treason, murder? He stopped listening. There was no point if he couldn't understand what was being said.

He turned back to he crowd once again and that was when he saw her. She stood in the centre of the mass of people, dark blue eyes looking up at him, sun blond hair framing her face. They weren't her eyes, that wasn't her hair, that wasn't even her face, but he knew, without a doubt, that it was her. She changed her appearance as often as she changed her clothes, but he could always tell when it was her.

She stared at him, intense eyes burning, and he stared back, unable to look away. Her face was blank, cold, unfeeling and he knew, he remembered, that he had failed her. Something he had promised he would never do. He had failed her and now she had abandoned him.

“Listen carefully to me sergeant,” she said, her voice low and melodic, but as hard as iron. Her eyes were green that day, a colour she didn't often use. “We have no room in this organisation for people who can't hold their own. My master does not like failure, I don't like failure. I have no use for failures. If you do not complete your mission, if you get caught, if you put the organisation in danger, then you are on your own.”

“I will not fail,” he told her, his anger at her doubting him was clear. He didn't care if she knew he was angry. He wanted to prove himself to her. He would prove himself. “I promise that I will never fail you.”

He had failed, he knew he had. So that's what he was doing up there, in front of such a large crowd. He had been caught carrying out her orders and now he would pay the price for failing her. The look in her eyes now was one of great disappointment and great anger. He had let her down and now he was living the consequences and she would do nothing to stop it. She would do nothing to save him.

Someone had once told him, their voice filled with awe as well as a slight hint of fear, that she was the most compassionate, caring person you would ever meet, but cross her, defy her and she would become as cold as ice and as hard as stone. She was ruthless, merciless, with her enemies and would kill any who threatened her master without a second thought or a hint of regret.

So now he remembered. The hangman's noose was tight around his neck and he could feel the wooden platform of the gallows under his feet. Some official or lord was reading out a list of his crimes, quite a long list by the sounds of it, and at midday he would hang. A public execution for a traitor to the crown.

He shook his head, ignoring the pain that came with it. Well, he had known the dangers when he had joined in with her organisation. He knew he would be considered an enemy to the kingdom and he knew there would be no help from her if he got caught. He accepted his fate.

She was still there in the crowd, still looking up at him and he couldn't help the intense waves of guilt that washed through him. By being caught he had not only failed the organisation, not only failed her, he had put her in great danger as well. For that he probably deserved to hang.

Licking his dry, cracked lips, me mouthed two words to her. Just two words he knew he should say and he watched her eyes narrow. With a flash of sun gold hair she turned and was gone and he let his head fall forward in despair. She cared nothing for him, he was just another tool she could use to achieve her masters goals. “I'm sorry.” Those words meant less than nothing.

Another man was talking now. Yelling triumphantly at the crowd, who looked back at him blankly. He knew that man, dressed in the royal colours, wearing a crown on his head and the seal of the kingdom on his right hand. He may have been dressed like a king, but he was not the true ruler here, he only wore the skin of the man who should rule.

Silence fell once again and the man dressed as the king asked weather 'the condemned' had any last words before he died. The smirk across the 'kings' face made his anger rise.

A slight nod before he began to speak, his voice was rough and his throat dry, but he ignored that. “The thing that I regret most in this life,” he said slowly, speaking to the 'king' and not the crowd. “The only thing is that I was caught. My master will bring you down and he will call you to justice for your crimes. You will die for what you've done. I failed in my mission, but the one who comes after me will not fail. My master will not fail!”

He wasn't aware that he was shouting, or that the crowd had started to yell angrily at his words. Some were, others seemed to be yelling at the 'king' and still others were standing in silence. He wasn't aware that the 'king' was also yelling, calling to the hangman to pull the leaver, open the trap door and silence him.

The hangman stood beside the leaver and nodded. “Talon Nox Silvanus. You have been tried and found guilty of the crimes just read out before the witnesses gathered here, do you wish to confess and repent before your judgement?” he recited, the words he had learned by heart.

“I've committed no crime that I feel I should repent for,” Talon said smirking at the 'king'. What he said before had not been completely true. There were two things in his life he regretted, one was getting caught, the other was letting her down. But there was nothing he could do about that now.

The hangman nodded again and Talon looked straight ahead, still wearing a smirk. Suddenly the pain was gone. The heaviness he had felt on his shoulders for such a long time was gone. He felt like he could laugh. He was about to die and there was nothing he could do about that, but he had apologised to her for his failure and now there was nothing left to worry about.

He heard the leaver shift and the trapdoor fell. He was ready for the pain, ready for death. There was a loud twang as the rope pulled tight and darkness enveloped him. But that darkness wasn't the end.

I hope you enjoyed this little extract thing, thanks for reading and please tell me if you think this story is interesting enough for me to keep writing.

Thanks again,

Kwin