Farewell, my Friends, pt. 3
Quinn could not calm down. The execution was something she was clearly against, but she could not disobey Garen. Not now, not during these days.
Also, the weather didn't help at all; the storm was lasting way longer than usual, with lightnings causing several fires around the city. The climatic anomaly had taken more than thirty victims, and that was without counting the casualties of the governments repression system that were hidden behind such an unnatural incident. To add up, Valor was nowhere to be seen.
She couldn't understand how Lucian was so calm. While she and Vayne shivered nervously, Lucian was nearly falling asleep besides the platform's small stairs; with his gun at his feet, he used Senna's as a pillow by laying it on his knees and his head on it. Meanwhile, countless citizens gathered in the square; they had come to see Poppy's execution.
Dark times bring dark thoughts to people's mind and dark needs to their hearts. They were not mean or evil; they were just scared. Propaganda and missinformation had widely spread a feeling of insecurity that had deeply digged its way through the Demacian hearts and infected every feel with hatred and misstrust; that was the only explanation she could find, the only way to justify their actions. Poppy's death would be a bless for them; the execution's duration was time that they wouldn't be using to try to face their own problems, the execution's reasons were the nonsense that helped them to find someone who blame for their misfortunes and the spitting they were giving to and old friend like Poppy was no more than their desperate wish for something to change.
...
Something woke Lucian up again. ¿A noise? ¿A step? No, it was different this time. People were silent. Even Garen was staring at the skies. They all looked charmed, as if a witch had forced them into an hallucination or something like that. ¿What were they looking at?
It took him a bit longer to realize; the air was glowing lightly. Small lights floating around, as minuscule as you might see the stars, but at the reach of his hand. Time felt slower around him; he could feel more than ever. The air through his lungs, the wind trying to wave his hair. The weight of Senna in his hand, the lack of something deep in his heart. And then the gust came.
Most people fell to the ground. Those who were not lucky elevated to the skies and fell onto those that were besides them seconds ago. Even Garen was lying in the ground, his sword soaked in blood and nailed on the ground, with a small hand laying at its side. Lucian felt his kings anger for short; once he realized Poppy was not there, he smiled to himself and run out of the square. He knew that Garen had seen his face; without a head to chop off, he'd look for someone to blame.
He had to leave the city.
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