That evening, Eric received a visitor. A physician who for the first time brought him a meal.
She healed him silently after watching him eat up the food she brought. He couldn't tell whether she pities him, or of she didn't know how to feel towards him.
The girl packed up her belongings and stood up to leave. Halting before leaving the cell, she glanced at Eric and a tear fell down one eye.
"Thank you." Eric said the simplest word of gratitude to the girl. The only one he said that evening.
The girl walked out without another word to the man. Both of them seemed to understand each other.
Funny in a way. A girl who works as a physician. Sent to tend to his injuries as punishment. And a man who is going to be killed the next day. Truly, fate had a twisted sense of humour.
He sat down in a corner and hugged his legs close to his chest. Hours passed and darkness of night engulfed the skies.
Eric, in his solitude, reminisced of his life. From the beginning of his early youthful teen life. To the adventures he had with his team. The good times filled with joy. The sad times filled with pain, suffering and education.
To this point in his life. Where he was framed, betrayed by his friends, kingdom and everyone who knew him. The torturous days and sleepless nights in cold cells.
The death of his beloved to his fall. And tomorrow, to his last breath in this world.
"Dear God. I beg of you. In my next life, grant me a peaceful life. If i am reborn in this world, please let me rain judgement on the corrupt one last time."
That was his prayer for that night. Snuggled closely alone, Eric had a peaceful night.
In the morning, when the first rays of dawn peeked over the mountains, the guards came to his cell.
They threw him his clothes through the bars. As if mocking, they had brought his old costume, cleaned.
He changed before their eyes. Scars all over his body as marks of his end. After dressing, they handcuffed him and the four guards led him to out.
He could see the large crowd of people who had come to witness his demise. It was as though every single person in the kingdom had come here just for him.
Every single politician, noble or anyone who was someone, had reserved a seat for a clear view.
Even his ones so close and loyal allies were present.
He didn't care for any speeches that were made. As such, he didn't pay any attention to their words.
The guards led him to the gate leading out on a platform to the guillotine.
But before that, one of them pulled out a dagger and lifted Eric's jacket. Looking him in the eye, he thrust the dagger into his side. Eric felt the cold blade of the dagger in his stomach.
Pain surged throughout his body. His body was on the edge of shutting down on the spot. But he caught it with what little strength he could still muster.
He coughed up blood and the guards wiped his lips clean of any traces of it. They threw the cloth that cleaned his blood in fire like trash. Disgust was evident in their eyes.
When it was time for him to walk out, Eric walked out confidently. No one could tell he was just wounded that fatally. He moved in a way that avoided causing more bleeding.
Roars of insults and praises filled his ears. While some people still believed in his innocence, some cursed at him with utter hatred.
The pain didn't bother him. And no emotion surged within him. He just wished to reach the guillotine.
Every step he took brought him that much happiness. For some reason, even he wasn't sure if he hated the very state of being alive of if it was just a flashing feeling.
But he was certain of one thing, this world is hellish and cruel. And life was nothing more than a curse.
He halted by it and his handcuffs were released. The man knelt down and his head was locked into the wood.
He counted in his mind every second that passed, awaiting the release of the heavenly decapitator.
Finally, he felt it. The vibration of its release. Its blade scraping against the wood. He closed his eyes and waited for it to cut his head.
But at the very last second, a shadow came in front of him. The guillotine was blocked.
He raised his eyes to find one of his former friends blocking it with his blade - Shiro. With one swift swing, the Guillotine was destroyed. The wood broke to pieces and blade shattered to pieces.
Eric was unpleased. Anger, hatred and disgusting filled his heart for the first time.
"I do apologise for doing this everyone. But this man was once a hero. He deserves the curtesy to lose his life at someone else's hands. As such, I.... would like to carry that burden. As his friend, I would like to be the one, who takes his head." Shiro said to the crowd, requesting.
People waited patiently for confirmation. The King's advisor whispered to him and he stood up, stretching his fist out.
With a thumb up, the people cheered loudly.
Eric found it amusing. He had never enjoyed killing or celebrated deaths. He didn't think his death would be such a spectacle.
Shiro smiled in satisfaction. He drew what looked like a magic circle and out, he pulled a sword. Jet black, sharp, eerie with its majesty.
Eric knew this sword. A sword that didn't just kill the body. It killed the soul and completely destroyed any hope of the victim ever being resurrected or being reincarnating.
Shiro aimed the sword above Eric's head. Swiftly, finely and with outstanding skill, Shiro cut off Eric's head.
It fell in the bucket and he picked it up by the hair for all to see.