Elliot gnashed his teeth and pulled against his captors. He writhed and wrenched against the ropes that bound him until his skin had rubbed raw. He was repeatedly held back and pushed down, and he finally flopped back to the ground with an exaggerated huff.
He looked over at Ace, emotionlessly slumped over his knees. His wrists were bound by cold, metal shackles. His hair was messy and barely held back in a ponytail from all of the times the guards gawked mockingly at the mark on the back of his neck. To top it off, he now bore a patch of white hair that fell on the right side of his face: yet another sign to prove his Aravasti genetics.
He slowly turned the silver wedding ring around on his finger. Its return had been his final request granted before his public execution.
A makeshift platform had been raised in the middle of New Arden’s city square, and a crowd had thickly gathered around it. The water of the canal formed a backdrop to the scene as the sun ducked in and out of clouds overhead. The dull roar of hundreds of discussions was quieted as a thin man with wavy hair in a navy-blue uniform stepped forward beside five officers. Ace and Elliot sat, bound, at their feet.
“Citizens of New Arden,” Reynolds announced with his hands raised. “Today is a day we will remember for years to come, and today is a day Echoes will not soon forget.”
The mob offered a smattering of applause and shouts in affirmation.
“Ace,” Elliot managed to shove his friend with his shoulder.
The Echo, however, continued his trance-like wringing of his fingers.
“Today we take control of their efforts to undermine our people in their skewed desire for revenge. Today, we show Echoes everywhere what we will do to them when they break our rules.”
Reynolds had scarcely gestured toward Ace when the crowd instantly broke into shouts and yells of anger.
Elliot began to struggle again. “Ace—snap out of it!” He urged.
“And then what?” Ace’s narrow eyes slid toward him under the white and brown hair in his face.
The Barean scowled. “You can’t just give up!”
“What else can I do?” Ace turned, shouting over Reynolds’ continuing speech and the crowds calls in reply. “Try to pretend hundreds of people didn’t just die? Try to pretend I’m not going to join them, leaving behind everyone who’s ever cared about us and will never know what happened to us??” His wedding ring glinted in the sun.
“I know how powerless that feels, but I refuse to believe everything you did yesterday to save my life was done in vain.” He shook his head when Ace continued to ignore him. “I refuse to believe you’re going to sit back and force me to watch you die in front of me—only for me to get killed right after.”
Ace winced and turned away.
Elliot, however, scooted himself closer. “You may not want to believe me, but I know you can do it. I still trust you, Ace.”
The guard pulled him back into place as Ace hung his head.
“I have no more tools,” he muttered. “No more power. I can do nothing.”
“When has not being able to do something ever stopped you?” The Barean urged, bending around the guard’s leg. “Besides, you still have the power. But, like that butter knife-lock pick, you just have to find another way to use it.”
Ace’s eyes opened.
“And here!”
Ace was grasped by the shoulders and drug to the front of the platform. He was heavily dropped back to his knees, but instead of slumping forward, he held his back steady. His once emotionless face was beginning to sharpen with determination.
“This Echo we have called The Outlier has at last been captured.” Reynolds dramatically grimaced as he looked upon Ace. “Many of you may remember the havoc he dealt on our town days earlier. Since then, he has attempted to murder our very Commander Konstantin—not to mention he has cast a spell over this Barean traitor.”
Reynolds turned to scowl at Elliot, but he was taken aback by the man’s smug expression.
“By his death, we will send a clear sign to all Echoes,” he turned his eyes back to the crowd, “By his death, we will ensure New Arden’s life!”
A clap of thunder masked the crowd’s joyful cry and caused all eyes to turn to the sky.
“Well,” Reynolds attempted a smile, “I suppose we should get to the point quickly. General?”
The general, armed with a long rifle, stepped forward. He coldly pointed the barrel at the back of Ace’s neck. He paused and then used the barrel to sweep Ace’s hair aside. His eyes grew wide.
Reynolds’ eyes narrowed, and then he noticed the raindrops in the air.
They were not falling.
Behind him, the crowd had grown uncharacteristically quiet. They, too, had donned a variety of fearful expressions. Some had even begun to run away.
He looked down at Ace.
The Outlier’s eyes were coated in blue light. Glowing streams pulsed from the shining mark on the back of his neck, tracing through his hair, across his face, and down his neck. Despite the shackles blocking the sources at his wrists, he had found another way to summon his power.
Screams urged Reynolds to raise his eyes and witness the water rising from the canal at their backs and swirling into the clouds above. He grit his teeth in an expression encompassing apprehension, amazement, and outrage.
“Shoot him!!” He barked, attempting to grab the gun from the stunned general’s hands. “Shoot him now!!”
But in a mighty crash of thunder, the wall of water and every raindrop burst through the air and collapsed heavily on the platform. Torrential waves crashed through the street and lapped against rooftops. The force broke through windows and busted down doors. People were swept away in the current, cleared from the scene and left gasping for air along the sidewalks.
Reynolds broke free from the current almost a block away, coughing to clear his throat and staggering to his feet through the receding water. He held up his arm to block the rainfall as he huffed air through his mouth.
A glowing figure stood on the platform. The glint of the light made it difficult to decipher which was water and which was his physical body.
Behind him, protected and half-obscured by swirling mist, stood the Barean.
Reynolds mustered his weakened anger and grabbed his gun. He shouted and fired a shot, but water effortlessly collected in front of The Outlier and deflected it. He continued firing as he trudged through the slushy ground towards him, but every shot bent and diffused through the humid air.
He roared when he ran out of charges, and he tried to rush at The Outlier instead. He recoiled when something was tossed to the soaked ground at his feet. He looked down to find broken metal shackles rocking back and forth in a puddle.
When he looked up, mist was slowly receding from the empty platform.
The acting commander shut his eyes.
Today was a day he would not soon forget.