I will fear not the sunset of death, for after comes the dawn of rebirth

The peasants faced the wall, bags over their heads, their hands tied behind their backs with a simple hemp rope. Nobody had bothered tying their feet. No sense in it. They knew better than to run, and even if they had entertained the notion, where would they have gone?

For the Sun Lord watches over me, and by intercession of Her Everlasting Majesty, I shall reach the house of the sun

From a priviliged spot amidst the gathered crowd, Major Anselm watched the execution. Next to him, Colonel Salome nodded solemnly, as if agreeing with something that was going on only in her head. Neither of them had ordered the execution, no, that honor went to one Brigadier Paule. Paule had been assigned to watch over Domremy, a backwater village next to Nouvelle. The wild, unruly Clathermontisse frontier. The Nornordeterre as people back in the island liked to jokingly call it. The Northnorthland. If people in the island already regarded the people in the Northlands, the farmers in Cote dei Fleurs and Baiei de Bandeire as their less refined counterparts (tolerated only because people in the Duchesses' Island needed to eat), the people in the newly settled lands further north were considered almost as barbaric as those outside of Illus. And that is what Brigadier Paule had to keep in line.

"Not that he's doing a very good job" thought Anselm out loud. Salome turned her head to him inquisitively

"Nothing, just talking to myself." He whispered

The Sun Lord saves his children and those who seek his light. And whilst his children are ungrateful and cast his eyes down to the earth, cursing the sweat in their brow, nonetheless does the Sun Lord provide and forgive

The Sun Blinded priest´'s sermon had gone on too long for Salome's liking. She could tell he liked to hear himself talk. She couldn't help roll her eyes and hope nobody saw that. Of course, nothing escaped Anselms eyes.

"They always do that." he whispered. Salome pretended she didn't quite understand what he was talking about, so he clarified "Talk too long, I mean."

Neither Anselm nor Salome were delighted to be in the Empire's armpit. Empire thought Anselm and scoffed. They had started calling it that in the press, or at least the papers that kissed the ground the Duchess walked on in hopes of getting more funding. Those that would not shut up about the New Dawn. The Empire he thought Consists of a bunch of untamed land in our country's backyard that we simply hadn't bothered to look into, a bunch of land at the world's end and a freezing rock whose main use was to put the rubble the Duchess didn't want to think about but that couldn't just be executed.

Salome and Anselm had been brought to Domremy all the way from Baievert to watch over the execution and give it some sense of legitimacy. It was a way of saying "Hey, remember you are still subjects of her Majesty. The Count of Irons is watching". Anselm wasn't mad about talking to northerners. Most of his men were northerners, and he had a certain disdain for the urbanites in the Duchess's Island. No, he was pissed at high command because this was a waste of time. If they really wanted to tighten the leash around the northern territories, what they needed was more soldiers. Not a couple officers to stand there and look pretty. What use was that fancy new fort in Lr. Etroit if they were just going to sit on their thumbs guarding a strait that nobody had attempted to cross in ages? And the soldiers they were willing to spare were sent in an expedition to St. Maplesville Floe to defend Sun knows what. We're spreading thin Anselm thought The Empire just learned to walk and it's trying to run. And it will run straight off the balcony

May the Sun Lord welcome you into his House. May the Duchess give you her mercy. For while their wrath is great and their justice fair, they are only matched by their forgiveness and by their love. Praise be Her Everlasting Majesty, and Praise be the Sun Lord. Sei Voluntad Cumpla

The Sun Blinded Priest finally had stopped his sermon. Anselm muttered an unenthusiastic Sei Voluntad Cumpla. Salome didn't even bother.

"Do you read much, Colonel?"

Salome was caught off guard by the Majors question

"When I have the time. So, not often" she remarked bitterly. She was clearly of the same opinion that them presiding over what was essentially a kangaroo court was a waste of time.

"I don't like this" simply stated Anselm

"Sorry Major, but I fail to see where you're going with this."

"I used to read a lot. History books. I used to like them because it was almost like reading fairy tales. Brave soldiers charging into death without any fear. Drama, romance."

"If you're just going to tell me about your favorite power couple from the last century you're clearly much more bored than I thought you were."

"We are making martyrs here, Salome. Back home, a man goes missing in the heart of the island and nobody questions it. They know better. They have the Gendarmerie right next door, the Sun Blinded Order, there is us. It's a bad idea to start something. Out here, however..."

A crow cawed somewhere in the distance. The firing squad loaded their weapons. Salome switched topics

"Are they using incendiaries?"

"No. Would take too long. Certainly would send the message across, though." MEIR's, affectiontaley called "miries" by the army, were certainly a nasty way to go. Magically designed to burn at the target's organs, consuming tissue like embers do to paper. It certainly wasn´t as flashy as an actual incendiary round, but it was painful. The logic behind them was simple: We all lose. If Clathermont lost the battle, the enemy casualties in the following days as those impacted by the rounds started burning away would at least make up for it, and the damage to morale was certainly a bonus as people couldn't do much but see their comrades waste away.

"I though sending a message was the whole point." casually retorted Salome. "I'm a little surprised that Iron's didn't use a Solar Cannon here. I'm sure baldy over there would love it" she pointed with her eyes at the Sun Blinded priest as he gave the poor devils the last blessing, rubbing their foreheads with censer ash. "It certainly fits into the whole Sun's Wrath theme"

"Too expensive to bring one here" Anselm used this to segway back to his point "Which is what I was trying to say. We're spreading too thin. Look around. Do you see anything remotely resembling a manufacturing plant? A fueling station? Our walkers would die at least 50 kilometers before we reached this town. And they are starting to wise up to it" he pointed with his head towards the prisoners. "If these illiterate farmers managed to figure out that they'd at least give it a try, how long do you think it'll take before someone with some sense of ambition and a little more experience whips up an actual fighting force?"

"It's a good thing then they do not have manufacturing plants, then, don't you think?" retorted Salome. "They march to the capital with pitchforks, shovels and a tractor and they won't make it past the channel before Irons has them all flayed alive."

Anselm frowned. There was a point there, but it didn't seem satisfactory to him for reasons he couldn't yet articulate.
The shots rang out, breaking the silence, and 6 bodies ragdolled to the ground. The next 6 were lined up. Anselm glanced at the group of prisoners and counted at least 40 of them: Men, women, and one that judging by his build and height, couldn't have been over 14. He averted his eyes and tried not to think about it.

"Paule lost 15 men in the revolt. They burned down the Administrateurs house before they stopped them at the square. They were marching for the armory."

"Paule is lucky he isn't up against that wall with these people. He must have licked Iron's boots real clean for him not to have him executed for incompetence."

" I think it's another symptom that we're ignoring, Salome. Iron's isn't dumb, if he could he would've sent a whole Sun-damned army and razed the town to the ground. He can't, though. So, instead, he leaves the current commanding officer in charge. He's settling for the next best thing: not acknowledging the rebellion in anything but the most mundane way to make sure they don't get any ideas of grandeur. He doesn't want another Sunless Court in his hands. It won't work, though. This isn't the island. People here know each other, so if any of them dies it breeds resentment in every single town and barnhouse in a very large radius."

Another volley rang out.

Salome was growing increasingly frustrated with the conversation. She had better things to worry about currently, like getting over this morning and going back to Baievert as soon as possible.

"Well, Major, we are right properly screwed then, aren't we? But you know Irons, and if he has to, he'll put every single one of these poor sods against the wall. Sei Voluntad Cumpla."

Anselm decided to drop it. He watched as they put the young man he had seen before against the wall. He noticed the man next to him was dressed as one of the Enlightened Order. He dismissed the idea that was brewing in his head, like the dark rainy cloud in the distance. Whatever could a farmer do if he learned Magicka. He looked away as the firing order was given. He wondered if he had been growing soft, and pushed the thought away, allowing himself a prayer for the young man under his breath.

Sei Voluntad Cumpla, he muttered.

His will be done. But whose?