A death sentence

The last death sentence in Aranor had been passed over a hundred years ago, and the one on trial on that occasion was a wanted elven hunter who had tracked down and killed a dozen mages serving the human empire. Even at that time, the execution was carried out in private, in the cold darkness of the dungeon.

However, the Morelises had decided to make Ezra’s hanging a public spectacle to inspire loyalty for their cause and also weed out any weaklings who still had doubts about their political and religious allegiance.

“You heard my father. Take this traitor to the scaffold,” Jasenki ordered.

The two assassins grabbed Ezra by his arms again and hoisted him off the ground. They were about to drag him away when he planted his feet into the ground and resisted with all his remaining strength.

“You have betrayed those who trusted you and killed your own neighbors. Is this the utopia you are trying to create?” he asked the crowd in a haunting voice, his face bearing an expression of solemn re