Cat got your tongue?

Leif reclined against the wall of the courtyard as they watched a man with large boots and an even larger ego strut his way across the plain wooden stage in the center. Leif concluded he moved like a hawk that had its wings clipped and awkwardly hopped along the ground as if he was still dangerous or important.

He stomped against the wood to get the nearby prisoners’ attention. “Everyone. Here. Now.” He ordered in a voice that admittedly carried well.

“This’ll be good.” They hissed to Ellie, who stood beside them, using the wall to keep herself upright. Leif had suspected something like this was afoot when they saw how many prisoners they had let into the area at once. 

“Since when has Artemus making an announcement ever been good?” Brian responded.

Leif gave him a look, deciding not to lecture him about the importance of sarcasm in their vernacular because he looked even more like an anxious dog than usual today.

The guards began approaching prisoners who did not move fast enough, waving their spears around pretending like they weren’t untrained sops who were incapable of getting any other position than to guard those who they knew would without a doubt kill them in a fair fight.

Leif waited until the last moment to reluctantly move from the wall to the front of the crowd, Ellie holding on to their shoulder the short walk.

“We’ve heard some of your… complaints regarding your stay here.” Artemus began.

Leif rolled their eyes, get on with it.

“And so, today we would like to extend our official response to the matter of your comfort.” With a small flick of his neck, several guards approached Leif, pushing Ellie down and grabbing their arms before they could rush to help her. They were brought kicking and seething to the stage, where the guards continued to hold them, one for both arm. Leif made note of their faces so they could find them later. They’d regret it and, judging by their expressions, they knew it.

“This young lady has been quite proactive in making your voices heard. We should recognize her effort, and consider her a shining example.”

Leif glared at him. They’d love to tear his face to shreds, but it was so ugly already, they doubted it would make any difference. “Only lady I see here is you.” They began mimicking his voice in a mocking manner, “…And this is a shining example of what I can only assume to be an extremely deformed horse, who couldn’t make it in the real army, and now needs a literally captive audience to get attention!”

He didn’t react as he normally would with frankly entertaining levels of sensitivity to insults. He only smiled and moved nearer to Leif, close enough they could almost smell the breadcrumbs stuck in his beard.

“Any last words?” He spoke quietly, only to them, as he drew a dagger that he’d probably polished for this occasion. Why don’t you just fuck it while you’re at it.

Leif knew this was a possibility, they had stopped fearing death a long time ago. But the sentence caught them by surprise regardless. They’d been expecting a beating. “Killing me makes me a martyr. If you really think that’s the way to quell our fire… I’ll be seeing you soon.” Leif’s heart raced, but their tone refused to waver from smug superiority.

A long and thin smile crossed his face, as if they couldn’t have made a better response, 

“Who said anything about killing?”

Leif barely had time to process before one of the guards that held them kicked the back of their knee, shoving them to the ground. Artemus crouched down and grabbed a handful of their hair, pulling their head back painfully. They felt metal between their teeth, prying open their jaw and immediately pulled away with all their strength, crying out as the blade sliced through their upper lip.

 It was a short-lived victory. Without hesitation, their captors held them down again, this time with more strength. It was hard to tell if the metallic taste in their mouth was the dagger or blood as they writhed in armored arms, unable to reach the steel that flashed in their eyes as they felt pain explode from inside their mouth and blood gush down their throat, followed by their lower lip being sliced open.

Their mouth was so ablaze they did not notice the unique burning sensation at their fingertips as they sparked and glowed, trying to claw their way toward the hands in their mouth.

Then they were released. Artemus showed something to a noisy crowd, then stepped away with many of the other guards. They feared the crowd whether they’d admit it or not. Besides, they were not needed anymore. Their warning had been made. It lay front and center, choking on their own blood.

The pain consumed all of their senses. They could barely make out Ellie’s shouting and Brian running to their side through the ringing in their ears and the spots clouding their vision.

And again there were fingers in their mouth, not that they would be choking less without them. It became far too much as the young man began attempting to heal them, their vision blurring and fading to black.