Sigma

The gathered crowd was in uproar, anger and hatred directed towards the traitors being shoved onto the platform, kicked down to their knees by the guards. Sigma was situated besides his father above the incandescent people. He was told to watch the execution, to see just what happens to those who dare betray the order of the crown. It was meant to be a moment of education, a father passing on knowledge to help his son become a strong ruler. Yet, Sigma couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the poor souls being put on display and shamed.

A cloaked figure steadily climbed the steps to the platform as the guards dispersed. The executioner. The platform was now a stage, a soon to be bloody demonstration of punishment. Sigma could feel the anxiety in his chest build, threatening to suffocate him. He glanced at his father, who only smirked cruelly. He knew speaking up would only warrant frustration from his father, inquirement of him questioning his fathers decisions. Despite Sigma's inner conflict, the executioner had a job to do, bringing the sword down on the first throat in a clean cut.

The head hit the concrete with a wet 'thump'. Sigma felt sick to his stomach, promptly excusing himself. He descended the stairs of the overseeing balcony where his father still sat, disappointed in his son's squeamish behavior but not stopping him.

Sigma couldn't understand how someone could kill another so easily. Even if it were just their duty to do so, there was no hesitation in the executioner's actions. It was as if they'd become accustomed to taking lives.

Later, after the execution of the traitors, Sigma found himself still thinking about it. He couldn't eat his dinner, still feeling sick. While he was appalled by the events of the day, there was an underlying curiosity that taunted him. He wanted to know more about the individual who made their living off the lives of traitors and enemies.

He snuck into the dungeon late that night. It made sense to him that person who delt with traitors would spend the majority of their time around them. Though, he wasn't certain where exactly they'd be.

Sigma crept along the dark and damp corridors, the low light of his torch hardly doing anything to help him see. He was starting to feel as though this was a mistake. He'd be unnecessarily bothering them at such a late hour, it might be best to turn back after all. He turned tail only to immediately bump into something, his torch falling out of his hands and to the hard cobblestone floors. The torch rolled directly to the feet of someone else. Sigma had ran into a person..

Sigma: "Oh- are you alright? I'm sorry, I was just trying to leave."

He picked up the torch again and found himself staring at their cloak, the same one from earlier that day. This is the executioner, the very person he came down here for. Suddenly face to face, however, his mind seemed to fail him.