Day 2. Noon. Beheaded.


   The gentle but concerned voice of Prium was borne by the idle winds to Vulcan who was tied to two great poles. He had been tied up by twisted twigs and ropes fashioned from silk. 

   There were two warriors standing before him. One with a spear in hand, and the other with a sword. Two others were behind him with whips used on horses. 

    The process was about to commence and the leader of the protesters was few metres away from him. A generous smile seated in his rough face. There was a grace in his gaze. 

    The spot of execution was an isolated field which was meant for the purpose. Twas usually at the outskirt of the village until the new king had a change. Then twas brought to the front of the Colosseum.

     There was a ring of iron thorns made around the person to be executed and those who were to carry out the process. At the consequence of that formation, all onlookers were to stand outside the ring and watch. Whoever move closer was at the detriment of his or her own life. Well, only if such person wished to accompany the one to be killed. 


   Vulcan looked towards her. Her face was pale and her nose busy, spurting phlegms and water. By heart, he didn't know her. He didn't know if he had been good to her sometimes back or not, but she seemed to be a worthy daughter. Given by how concerned about him he had learned her to be. 

    Vulcan looked past her to other people who were present. He was trying to see if the princess he had been accused of was present. But what he saw instead were his wife and his second daughter. 

    He couldn't say for real if his wife was glad about the situation or not. Her facial expression was quite ambiguous to decode. But he was sure that the other lady was concerned. She was crying. 

    Two strokes of the whips pushed his mind back into the state he was. The pain coursed through his nerves and spines but he couldn't even put his hand to his back to ease the pain. Two more came. 

    He just wanted everything to be over. He had been wrong. He thought living in his fantasy was the worst but he didn't know that reality sucked twelve bags of annoyances.

    For how could you wake up, after several years of being in your fantasy. Only to wake to wake up and realize that twas just a day difference in the real world. Like a prolonged dream, a dream in series and episodes. 

    He remembered that Athena promised to come in search for him on earth. He didn't know if he could bank on that. He missed Jite and Kilp. He wished they could meet again. He wondered if they also were facing their own loads of problems. Probably they had woken to theft or murder instead. 

     Continuous strokes of the whips couldn't let him concentrate on the thoughts. He didn't want to confide in them again. 

    All he wished for at that moment was just return to his fantasy and return to being the only lover of Athena. The son-in-law of Zeus. And also, the threatener of Poseidon. 

    Such thoughts gave him goosebumps. Twas just the matter of time. The only channel between the fantasy and real life was just death. He hoped. But how about Prium? He was already liking her. 

    "Now is the peak of it all!"

   One of the two warriors standing before him started a vociferation. His face perky and determined. He continued,

     "We shall offer the head of Vulcan, the son of Enheduaviataa as a peace offering for the taboo he had committed. That his family wouldn't be haunted by the wandering spirits of the Lukiata of our land."

     The fellow said and raised his sword up. As soon as the fellow finished speaking, all the people shot an echo in agreement, stomping their feet in delight. Vulcan wondered how ruthless humans could be. 

    Now, if a man was beheaded for raping a lady while drunk, what happens if he did it on purpose? He couldn't hold the thought for long. 


    Vulcan heard his daughter cry out again. His face had been down. Before he could raise his head, he felt a sharp edged metal piercing through his stomach and ripping his veins and intestines apart. He could see his own blood gushing out. His robe drenched in his own blood. 

   Then succeedingly, he felt a blow on his neck and there went his head. Rolling down his body. His corpse made a thud on the earth. His body fell chest-down on his head. 


   Prium tearing up really hard rushed towards the ring. She couldn't control her rage. She crawled her way into the ring and ran towards her father. 

     The four warriors tried to restrain her in vain. 

    "Let her be, she can't have much left."

    The leader of the four warriors said to the lot. The warriors began to walk out of the ring. Their leader stopped at the exit and scorned,

    "I'm quite sure you don't plan on fighting the vultures over your father's corpse, their meat."

    Prium stood up immediately. She looked around quickly but there was no weapon in sight. She saw only a small granite stone. She swept every rage and detest in her into a whole and hurled the stone. 

   It hit the fellow on the nose and he wrenched in great pain. The leader resisted the other three from taking revenge. He said. 

    "Let her be. The pain I feel is only but a silhouette of what she feels."

     They walked out. Prium heard what he said but didn't act. She turned to her father's corpse and resumed wailing.

    She noticed her mother and sister outside the ring, very close to it but not willing to come in. She turned in detest and shot,

    "Go away. It's such a good news for you, isn't it. Go get married to Myclops, the priest. You don't think I have an idea that you've been seeing him? Dad is poor and unworthy of you, right? Now, he's dead. Thank goodness, that's all you wanted."

    She looked at her sister and tossed her up, then sideways. 

    "Follow your mother to your stepfather."

    She turned away from them. She didn't care whether or not they'll remain there. All she knew was that she wasn't living that spot. Even come night!

    Let the vultures come and eat her too. 



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