How would events be changed if Silas had succeeded during the Execution? If you have read this part you can just skip to the Alternative Scene, which is labeled further down.
"Stop! For the love of God, stop this madness!" Silas cried, breaking lines as he approached the gallows, hair clinging to his forehead from perspiration as he raised his hands. His reflective eyes looked at the very people whom he had called friends, but now, looking at the people that he had known all his life, they seemed like strangers.
"Have you all gone mad?" Silas asked softly, glancing from face to face, his unsteady hands slowly falling to his sides.
"Have you lost your minds? What madness has claimed you all?! This woman-our Duchess-you all knew her since she was a babe! And you watched that babe grow into a girl-and-and that little girl grow into a beautiful woman! You cannot end her life like this! Surely any of you-one of you-feels the slightest wrench of guilt in your chest? My Duchess, our Duchess, she is innocent!"
"You speak lies!" Eamon roared, his voice booming with authority. "You say that she is innocent yet her womb is soiled with the Blasphemer's seed!"
"The child is an innocent, my lord! Tainted it is in origin the child is pure in soul! You dare damn a child yet to leave its mother's womb?"
"The child is guilty of sin as much as its blasphemer parents! Would you allow the Devil's spawn to be unleashed into this world? That man is Lucifer incarnate! You have seen his desecrations!" Eamon hissed, Silas throwing up his arms in fury.
"Then cauterize the sin itself! Kill the man! Kill the man that started all this madness and prevent him from spreading the taint!" Silas spoke in frustration, pointing in accusation at the Necromancer tied to a stake, the man lifting his head up weakly. The man's face was swollen, his eye cut and bleeding with cracked lips as his chest heaved up and down slowly, his breath raspy and soft.
"Why cauterize the sinner and not the sin? The man is guilty of necromancy and the Duchess his accomplice!"
"Then I fear I am as guilty as sin itself, my lord! For it was I who allowed this travesty to occur! Not the bone conjurer! Not m' lady! But I, Silas Adler, a once noble knight that had sworn loyalty to the Grand Duke of Bavaria!" Silas spoke, his voice strong as he stood against many, looking at the sullen Duke.
"I apologize, my Duke, for you had spoken so highly of me, and honored me as your own son. Now, however, I fear I have dishonored your trust by failing your daughter. Surely you do not wish this death on your daughter, my lord? But you want blood shed for this crime, yes?" Silas asked, the crowd roaring in rage as they threw stones, rotten fruit and vegetables at the knight, the stench staining his armor as he shielded himself with his hands.
"Stone him! Bring your stones upon the chaff like the Wrath of God himself!" Eamon roared, raising his arms in an almost divine manner, feeding the frenzy.
"What are you doing, Eamon? He wishes to speak!" William hissed, watching with horror as the knight was knocked to the ground from a blow to the head. He could hear the Duchess' cries over the roars of the crowd.
"Silas! Silas!" Anaya shrieked in terror, the mob running out of fruit and stones as they approached the man, Silas now struggling to crawl away. The mob was only fed from the sight of blood running down the knight's temple, the life blood coating his fiery hair.
"Stop! Stop all of you! You are killing him!" Anaya screamed, tears pouring down her face as the woman struggled to break her bonds, flailing desperately as she looked towards her father. She didn't understand! Why wasn't he doing anything?!
"Stop them! Tell them to stop, Father! He is dying!" Anaya cried, pleading as she struggled against the Executioner's grip.
"What are you doing, Eamon? Call them off! Call them off, brother!" William looked at his King desperately, his eyes wide in terror.
"When have your eyes been clouded by such darkness that I could not see them?" William asked, Eamon glancing coldly at his younger brother.
"Sinners deserve no mercy." Eamon spoke, a collective gasp coming from the crowd upon seeing the gleam of a sword drawn.
"Back! Back I say!" Silas roared, keeping the crowd at bay with his blade, the knight swiftly spitting blood into the dirt as he struggled to keep his footing steady.
"If it is blood you want..." Silas paused, his breath in short, swift gasps as he glanced at all the former friends and familiar faces. He didn't understand. How could they so easily become savages?
"Then it is mine you shall have, and not the blood of innocence!" Silas spoke, his blood dripping on the ground as he looked at the crimson liquid, taking his time to steady himself.
"I care not what you do with that man, but let my Duchess go." Silas glanced at Anaya, the woman shaking her head as tears gently fell down her cheeks.
"Silas, no..."
"What say you, my King? Your niece alive and well while the guilty lay cold and dead."
"And risk that abomination from escaping? My niece is far from innocent as you claim, knight. You are saying that she has taken no part in necromantic practices?" Eamon asked.
"Aye, my liege. The only one guilty of desecrating corpses is that man! As for failing to inform your counsel of dark magics I have no excuse! That man and I are the only ones who should shed blood today!" Silas admitted, the crown beginning an upstart again.
"Enough!" Eamon's voice echoed throughout the area, the crowd quieting to a fuming rage.
"You shall get your wish for death, knight. However, your lying to defend my niece is further proof that she was involved in the dark arts, as were you!" Eamon hissed, Silas' eyes widening in shock.
"What you speak of are lies, you wretched old man!" Silas cried in rage, stabbing his sword into the earth. "Your tongue is tainted black with poison!"
"May God damn your eternal soul, liar!" Eamon hissed.
"No! As God as my witness, may He strike me down if any blackened lie ever stained my tongue!" Silas cried, falling to his knees upon his sword, as if in prayer.
"As God as my witness..." Silas whispered, feeling blood trickle down his open palm as he sliced his hand upon the steel edges of the blade.
Silas paused, watching the blood run down his blade, his steel eyes watching the liquid run down his hand and drip onto the ground.
"As God as my witness I swear that this woman is innocent!" Silas cried. "And that the blood shed on this blessed blade is from a man whom is truly guilty." Silas paused, sucking in air as he clenched his bloody palm shut.
"End my life, m' Lord! For this man-this Knight of God, Knight of Country, Knight of Honor is willing to die so the truth shall live!"
"Mercy, my King. Mercy is all I ask for your niece and her child. That is all I ask. Kill me however you see fit-I care not for an honorable death or if you parade my corpse around Regensburg with shame. Let not my family name be damned for my actions, no! For this was my choice and mine alone. Just as it is my choice to ask for death in order to birth the truth." Silas spoke softly, his eyes downcast, refusing to meet the Page's eyes rimmed with tears and confusion.
"Berend, go inside. You need not see your cousin in such a state." A man spoke, ushering the young boy away from the crowd.
"But Uncle-"
"No buts, little cub. Now go." The man urged, pushing the reluctant boy away. The man then turned at attention to his Duke before turning his gaze to the King.
"Do you think me a fool?" The King asked darkly, a twisted snarl molding his face as his eyes narrowed on the knight. No one dared breathe. Not even the faintest of whispers birthed among the crowd.
Alternative Scene Starts Here
"Brother, please, she is my only child. What if our roles were reversed, and it was your daughter, Anora? Surely you cannot say you feel nothing when you think about losing your child." William spoke, Eamon refusing to look at the man, gaze intent upon the spectacle below.
"My daughter would not be foolish enough to get involved in such heresy, yet I would lying if I said that I do not feel."
"Eamon, please. Let my daughter go. She is all I have of Ada, just as Anora is everything you have left of Elisabeth. They are the only ones that have been spared by plague." William continued, voice exposing a note of sorrow.
Upon the ground, Silas' eyes scanned the pair above, sweat running down his brow and blood dripping onto the cobblestone below. He barely felt the pain with his adrenaline, heart pounding wild and fast as Silas strained his hearing, yet to his dismay could not hear any of their words.
The crowd moved in unison, seething in withheld rage, eager for bloodshed as their rulers conversed in debate.
Silently, Silas' gaze fell upon his Duchess, the woman looking upon the young man with sorrow as she shook her head, saying the same broken words over and over again.
"I am sorry."
He could see it in her eyes. The words were meant for him, to apologize for everything she had done, to apologize for his suffering.
Suddenly, all eyes averted to the King, the man standing over the railings once more, pausing to speak as Silas felt his palms begin to shake and sweat.
"Anaya Farring, Duchess of Bavaria, you have been convicted of blasphemy and necromantic acts, as well as being with child spawned by Lucifer himself." Eamon paused once more, Anaya's head dropping as the Executioner stood next to her, a large hand keeping her in place.
"Therefore, with my God given status, I hereby sentence you to exile, and stip you of all your titles. The death you would receive here would be far too merciful. I can only pray that God gives you a death you truly deserve." Eamon finished, the crowd roaring in disapproval as Anaya fell limp in shock, her legs buckling and giving out, the Executioner's grip steadying her as tears streamed down her dirt laden face.
"Oh, thank the Lord." Silas muttered, breathing a deep sigh of relief, tears stinging at his eyes and a smile crossing his face, and looking upon Anaya, she was smiling too. And crying. And laughing. She was not sure what to do.
Loud laughter suddenly burst from the Necromancer tied to the stake, dying into a loud set of coughs that racked the man's body. Eamon's nose scrunched in annoyance upon seeing the man give the finger as best he could.
"Exiled alone? Eamon, you know she will not survive long in her state." William spoke, voice showing concern laced with shock. His older brother chose to ignore the comment.
"However, the Duchess' shall not leave freely. Blood must be paid in return." Eamon spoke, Anaya's eyes widening in terror, both she and Silas looking at one another. One gaze wet and wild, the other calm and lax.
"No. No, no, no, he cannot! He cannot do this!" Anaya whispered in desperation, shaking her head wildly as the crowd awaited an answer with agitation.
"Thus, in return for the Duchess' being spared, the life of her champion must be extinguished! Knight, I hereby sentence you to death!" Eamon roared, the crowd cheering as Anaya cried in agony.
"Uncle, no! You cannot do that! You cannot!" Anaya cried, struggling to break the Executioner's grip, screaming as the crowd suddenly upon the knight once more.
Several knights charged into the fray, Silas quickly becoming overwhelmed, crying in pain in an almost endless barrage of of punches, kicks, and shivs.
"No, my son! Leave him be! Leave him be! Silas!" Carl cried, pushing through the mob as he violently ripped a man off his kin, and proceeded to punch the man in the face.
"Stop! You are killing him! Silas! Silas!" Anaya cried, trying in vain to block out the noise of her dear friend's screams, her eyes then looking upon the Executioner, the black cloth showing no emotion, and when his eyes locked upon her blue, his appeared almost black, soulless.
"Please...help Silas! I do not want him to die, but I do not want him to suffer!" Anaya pleaded, the Executioner remaining silent before releasing his grip on Anaya and fortifying the grip upon his axe.
Eamon watched intently from above, watching the crowd now turn upon Carl and begin to beat him down, the knights struggling to keep the rioters under control as a knight managed to drag Silas away from the frey, a trail of blood following. William dared not look to see the harm done to his friends.
The frenzied mob quickly lost their fervor upon seeing the hulking man clad in death approach, the crowd tentatively fleeing to safety.
Blood rolled down the corner of Silas' mouth, eyes clouded with pain as a shiv stuck out of his arm, wedged between the amor. He was not sure if he was stabbed, or just beaten so horribly that he was bleeding onto the stone, but it did not matter. If this pain, this bloodshed was the price to set his lady free, then so be it.
Groaning, Silas gripped the small blade protruding from his arm, hearing frantic footfalls being made towards him, Anaya kneeling next to him, dress staining with dirt and blood.
"Silas! Oh, Silas, stop it! You have already given enough!" Anaya pleaded, kneeling over the man, yet unable to grasp him with her bound hands. She could feel the shadow of the Executioner standing over her, circling like a vulture.
"No. It is...not enough..." Silas stated, grunting in pain as he strained to pull the metal from his flesh, the blade coming loose in a spray of blood.
"Stop it, Silas! You are killing yourself, do you not know that!?" Anaya asked, face flushed from rage and sorrow as the man struggled to rise to his knees. Anaya leaned towards the man, allowing the knight to rest upon her shoulder.
Silas took the time in inhale the woman's scent, his eyes scanning the bloodied ground to see multiple men laying on the ground. Most seemed knocked into unconsciousness, but when Silas saw the familiar form of his father laying on the ground, he knew that life did not exist when one was so still. Carl had the damage of multiple stab wounds done to his chest and stomach.
Silas felt his eyes water upon seeing his father, yet knew that his father was most likely the reason why he was alive. Chances are, those shivs were meant for the young knight.
"I am setting you free. That day, in the fields, you said that you wanted to be free, but I was not strong enough to grant you that wish. With my death...you will be set free. You will be set free, Anaya." Silas replied, voice cracking slightly as the woman beside him cried softly, digging her head into the crook of her nape, as if to hide.
"I love you...I love you, Silas." Anaya spoke softly, kissing his cheek as her tears smeared. Silas' breath stilled before his arms firmly wrapped around her frame.
"I only wish I have been the man to deserved. Farewell, my Duchess." Silas replied, crestfallen and sullen as his hold broke.
"Wha...no, Silas, please!" Anaya begged, the man shaking his head as a knight gently grabbed Anaya and shepherded the woman away.
"I am going to see Father, Anaya. I do not want to keep him waiting." Silas replied, looking at the Executioner, the man approaching.
Silas stayed on his knees, baring his neck as he felt the cool steel of the axe gently scrape against the flesh of his neck, several strands of hair being moved out of the way.
"Any last words?" The Executioner asked, Silas shaking his head, deep in prayer.
"No. I am just asking God to watch over Berend with his kin dead." Silas respond, the Executioner looking towards Eamon, the man nodding his head.
"This will be quick. Farewell, Adler." The Executioner stated, raising the axe over his head, Anaya's cries becoming frantic as she kicked and hissed at the man holding her.
"Father! Father, they cannot do this! It is murder! It is murder!" Anaya cried, watching in horror as the axe was brought down.
"Stop! Stop!"
The axe seemed to shake the very earth as it clashed with stone, the Executioner grunting as he looked up towards the balcony. Silas opened his eyes, wondering why his head was not rolling onto the floor, the axe resting just a few inches away from his exposed nape.
The men above appeared to be arguing, and after several minutes William had stepped forward.
"Enough! Enough of this mindless bloodshed! Look at what has become of you all! Mindless, animals killing your own neighbors! Because of you, good men lay cold and dead. I cannot allow my friend's kin to die like this. That would not be honorable. The only one that deserves to die today is the man that had started all this!" William hissed, pointing at the lone Necromancer tied to the stake, the man seemingly bored.
"For your crimes, Silas Alder, you should rightfully be put to death. However, killing the last living son of my friend and leaving a child alone does not seem like a proper way to honor my friend. Therefore, along with my disowned daughter, you shall be exiled." William spoke, Eamon charging forward in a rage.
"What are you saying, Brother!? I demand a blood payment!" Eamon roared, William gesturing to the man tied to the stake.
"I am sure that his sins shall compensate for our exiled knight and Duchess. Set the Necromancer aflame!" William ordered, the Executioner grumbling before picking up his axe, Silas watching the man walk away as he painfully stood up.
"Silas!" Anaya cried, rushing towards the man, having broken away from the knight that was chasing her.
"Anaya, we must leave!" Silas stated, Anaya looking at the man with slight shock.
"Wh...no, not now! Not without R-"
"Anaya, it is not safe here! Once they are done with Rorek they may turn their attention to us." Silas spoke, concerned as the crowd cheered when the Executioner approached with a torch.
"Are you ready to burn, Demon Whisperer?" The Executioner asked, Rorek looking at the man, as if mulling over what to say.
"Yes, and no. One is never truly ready to die, yet in order to die peacefully one must accept that they will die. That acceptance is what allows us to pass on. You and I are the same. Surely, you have accepted your fate as well?"
"That I have. Any last words?" The Executioner asked, Rorek remaining silent only only to spit in the man's masked face.
"That is for labeling me as a defiling necromancer. Do me and favor and carry the message to your King, will you?" Rorek asked, being answered by a swift punch to the face, his body twisting as far as the chains would allow.
"Will do." The Executioner replied, Rorek spitting out a loose tooth and globs of blood, laughing.
"Of course you will." Rorek replied, looking passed the man, passed the rioters to see the knight and Duchess, seemingly torn on what to do.
"Come on, Anaya! We must leave!" Silas urged, yet the woman refused to budge.
"No! We-"
"It is too late, Anaya." Silas pressed, the smell of smoke soon reaching their noses, Anaya swiftly turning around to see the the stake set aflame. In panic, Anaya moved towards the stake but was stopped, Silas holding onto the woman firmly.
"Let me-Let me go!" Anaya hissed, Silas shaking his head.
"No, it is too dangerous! We must leave!" Silas hissed, the sound of a dying animal soon hitting their ears, the noise seeming to split the air. It was with horror that the pair realized it was coming from the burning stake, the thick smell of burning flesh choking the air. The only thing louder than Rorek's screams was the laughter and taunts the crowd yelled.
With the screams etched into her memory, Anaya wrenched her arm free and ran as fast as she could away from the horrible smell and blood curdling screams.
So far, this is just for fun, but if people like this enough I will begin to work on it, but Dishonored shall come first. Feel free to review if you want to and have a good day. :)