[prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/. Story from a novel idea: One Realm]
The ropes sliced my skin. I had spent too many hours trying to escape them, but there was no strength left in me to do so now. I only longed for the end of suffering: for myself and others.
The guard shoved my shoulder closer to the block where the man chosen to be executioner stood, axe in hand. He wore the traditional head covering, keeping all features save his eyes a mystery. The darker part of me wanted to see the face of my killer. After all, a warrior should know by whose hand he dies. Even though the warrior class was a distant memory in the peaceful time I had attempted to break, my blood would never cool. This was the only way to silence the war within me. The executioner’s brown eyes seemed almost familiar to me. Perhaps in another life, I had known this man. Or Fate was granting me a glimpse of what was to come: welcoming me into her arms with familiarity.
I saw my mother—how I longed to have seen her face for all of my twenty years now—crying. I saw her sadness even after I had caused her so much pain and knew she would have loved me with all her heart. I never would have been a crafted pawn in her care. Amicus was embracing her, my uncle who certainly would have treated me as his son. Lucan stood to the side, the declaration of my death in hand, staring at me as if from a great distant. Seeing my reflection in him still jarred my soul. We could have been such friends had we remained together: the twin princes of Renterra. No enemies would have ever rose against us.
The only person absent was Abelinda. My sweet, sweet Abelinda. Surely I had caused her too much suffering to ever be reconciled in her eyes.