Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Nicholas Folach, I, The Emperor, hereby decree that you are to be exiled to the forest beyond the walls of Mahnburge.” 

He couldn’t believe it. No. Not him. ,thought the spectator, one among the scores of people who were there. Why does The Emperor do this? He couldn’t move. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were pinned on his friend who stood before the stage, his head bowed, trying not to fidget. 

“This decision cannot be reversed, and thus, you have a gracious few moments to take a last look at your friends, family, and other loved ones. And then, you must be sent on your way.”, continued The Emperor in an upset and resigned tone that did not fit his usual personality. He couldn’t see the face of that jerk, but he bet that behind that smooth, silver, shining mask, there was a gleeful and manic smile. A smile fit only for dictators that banished people who have done little should-be insignificant crimes to the woods.

The woods..

He’s heard of rumors of the world around and outside the walls that kept everyone in Mahnburge safe. Safe from the monsters that always attacked the nearest person in their vicinity. The world was huge out there… maybe even infinite. And full of many other dangers that wasn’t only made of the monstrous spiders and undead. Some said that there was a city consisting of dangerous criminals there. How else would people disappear so fast? How else would there be the faint whisper of people that one could seldom hear?

“No!”, he cried out suddenly, attempting to shove his way to the front of the crowd, where he would be able to grab his friend and run. Where would they run? Maybe the darkest areas that are behind the houses and buildings, with the cats. He reached out to grab his arm, when one of the Royal Guards grabbed him, their silver armor that covered them from head to toe gleaming in the cruel sunlight like the moon brought to daytime.

He struggled , trying to get the guard off of him. “Let me go!”, he growled, kicking out at the guard’s feet and chest. “He doesn’t deserve to die!”, he pleaded to The Emperor, who just continued to look at the commotion, his hooded head in his signature creepy tilt to the left.

Is there ANYONE who cares? ,he thought angrily, scanning the faces of the crowd. A girl with pale purple eyes and purple-black hair had a slight sympathetic expression, and there were some worried looks, but no one seemed to care further than that.

The Emperor then spoke up again, although not before making a hand gesture to another stupid guard, who rushed over and restrained the accused. He struggled against his guard, but wasn’t having any luck. “You wouldn’t want your friend Nicholas to die right here and now, would you? Calm down.”, The Emperor said, pulling out a sharp and shimmering diamond sword meaningfully. 

The spectator gulped, having seen that sword used on other disobeying Accused in the past, and stopped struggling, backing away hesitantly.

“Good.”, The Emperor says, sheathing back the sword. “Now, where were we?” A pause of mock thinking. “Oh, yes, that’s right. Throw him out.”, he says to the guards, who promptly drags Nicholas with them to the gate of the city. He struggled in the guards’ grasp, but with no avail.

In what felt like no time at all, the guards opened the gate, shoved Nicholas out, and slammed the gate again. One of them threw a piece of soggy and honestly very disgusting looking kelp out of the gate before it closed. “I recommend that you get going.”, The Emperor calls to him in a dangerous sounding tone.

With a defeated expression, Nick picks up the soggy kelp, and turns away, as the spectator stares at the direction he was going, wishing he could have done something more. But there was nothing else to be done.

That was the last time he has seen his friend.

Chapter Text

Clay woke up with a sudden start and a gasp. When he calmed down slightly, he looked around him, pulling himself up to a sitting position, looking up at the now dark sky. It was late evening now, with the colors above transitioning to a dark blue. Clay had been sleeping longer than he thought.

He readjusted the mask on his face, yawning and stretching, before getting up. I should get back to Sorella as soon as possible. ,Clay thought to himself. It’s dinner soon, and she’s waiting for me to get back home with the food. 

Picking up the cloth sack that contained the chicken wings, potatoes, and a small slice of apple pie, Clay starts to walk towards the direction of the house. Every city person was already inside their homes, and he could see the candlelight in many of the houses, with families together at their tables eating dinner or talking to each other at their fireplaces.

It made Clay feel somewhat lonely seeing these families together. Not that it was his parents’ fault, of course. His adopted parents were poor, and were always having to go out to work to support them, coming home at about two in the morning, when he and Sorella would be asleep.

Watching the other cityfolk also made him feel like a creep, so he pulled himself away and continued navigating through the streets, a small rise of excitement in him as he imagined what Sorella’s excitement would look like when she saw the pie slice he had bought. It was slightly more expensive than anticipated, but then again, he doesn’t buy such a treat very often.

Everything was going well, until he heard footsteps. S***, it’s definitely past curfew. I need to get back to the house. Those are probably the Patrol Guards.

Clay looked around him, trying to judge where the footsteps were coming from. He then spotted a convenient-looking bush, and scampered behind it, just in time. Clay heard the footsteps passl by his hiding spot, and then travelled further away from him, eventually disappearing. 

After another minute of sitting in the bush in frightened silence, Clay slowly peeked out of his hiding spot, swiftly scanning his surroundings from left and right. All clear.

He then made a beeline through the buildings in the city, just wanting to get back home. Sometimes, he wished Mahnburge wasn’t so gigantic. But finally, Clay reached the door of the house. Sorella must be a bit annoyed ,he thought light-heartedly, almost amused.

Clay opened the door hurriedly, and almost didn’t notice the girl standing right behind it. Sorella’s brown eyes glared up at him, a fork in one hand. “You’re late.”

“Ha, yeah, I had some difficulties-”, Clay tried to apologize, before Ella poked him sharply with the fork at his arm.

“You made me worried- how could you?”, she complained, although her voice had a tone of teasing. “You dare be late?”

“Oh? You, worried about me?”, Clay teased her back. “I thought you hated me?”, he continued, a smirk plastered on his face.

“I- no.”, Ella huffed, but then thought of something. “I was worrying about the food, not you. I could’ve starved to death!”, she whines, a smile still on her face, jabbing at Clay with the fork again.

“Ow!”, Clay said with a laugh, although it did hurt a slight bit. Sorella had jabbed the fork at his stomach. “That kind of hurts!”

“Good.”, Sorella responds to him in an ominous-sounding tone, trying to look serious. It was hard to believe that, however, when her hands were white with paint, and she was holding a mask that had a face that looked like a “>:0” in her hands.

Clay looked at the new mask in her hands curiously. “Did you make another one?”, he inquires, touching his own mask. Sorella had also made the one Clay was wearing, which was of nearly the same design, except that his mask simply had an upwards curving line at the mouth area. Sorella’s new mask had a comical letter ‘O’ at the mouth area, and had a ‘V’ for eyebrows. Of course, that was obvious, and already stated, but Clay couldn’t get over how hilarious looking it was.

“No, of course not, Clay. I absolutely know some other other mask-makers.”, Sorella says, sarcasm dripping at the end of her tone amusedly as she rolled her eyes. 

“Fair.”, Clay says, before finally breaking into a laugh. Well, more of a wheeze than a laugh, or a lung-killer, as he expelled all of his air in a sound that sounded like a kettle.

Sorella just stared. “I really really still don’t get how you do that.”, she comments. “You should apply for an ‘I Can Be a Kettle!’ contest or something.”

After a while, Clay managed to stop the wheeze. “Anyways- why’d you make another?”, he asked. “I mean, you already made one for me, and I don’t think you need it.”

She shrugged in response. “I don’t know. You never know when I’d need to hide my face for a stealth mission or something. But also, I could possibly have the weird stuff happen to me, too.”

The weird stuff…

Clay had noticed a while back that when people made eye contact with him, they were quite likely to start freaking out for some reason. It kind of made sense though, since not a lot of people had green eyes, even in the big city of Mahnburge.

Maybe The Emperor banned green eyes , Clay thought, a bit dejectedly, but also with a hint of mirth. I would never know- especially since I’m never able to listen to his boring speeches.

“That’s true.”, Clay replied to Ella, then setting down the sack he was still holding onto the table. “You’re right. Maybe light brown eyes aren’t allowed.”, he adds, jokingly.

“Not as illegal as your wheeze.”, Sorella counters with a small snort, laughing when she sees Clay’s expression as he takes his mask off and closes the door behind him.

“My laugh is offended.”, Clay announces with an exaggerated expression of hurt. “How could you, Sorella Noloso?”

“Tell your wheeze I’m sorry- bet you can’t.”, Ella replies with a small giggle. “What’d you buy?”, she then asks, going over to the sack to open it.

Clay smiles. “Well, I have gotten… A bunch of potatoes, some chicken wings, and you’ll never guess what else I brought home.”, he says dramatically.

Sorella unties the fabric sack, and takes out the contents, putting them on a plate she had already put on the table. Her eyes widened as she took out a paper bag and opened it.

“You didn’t.”, she says, looking shocked at Clay. “This must’ve been so expensive.. Oh my god.”, Ella continues, taking out the small plate that was wedged inside, with a decent looking pie slice sitting on top of it. Clay had seen better slices, but those were definitely too expensive.

“Surprise! I didn’t just get a cookie or low-quality tiny pastry this time.”, he says. “Happy birthday.”

Ella stares at the pie slice, and slowly puts it on the table. “Holy s***.”

“Language.”

“But you swear all the time?”, Sorella protests. “I don’t even say them all that much- you’re the one who says bad words a lot.”

He fell silent. “Uh. Mm. Moving on.”, he says awkwardly, before walking over to a cabinet and opening it, taking out another plate, a pot, a spoon, two cups, and a spare tiny candle, not unlike the ones they use to light up the house at night. He puts the pot on the stove and everything else on the table, then turns on the small stove, and carefully sticks the wick of the candle into the tiny fire that resulted.

Clay winces a little as he accidentally touches the fire, but shows no other reaction. Sorella must’ve thought he was brave, but really, it’d be less humiliating if he didn’t show how embarrassed he was that he burnt himself.

Pulling his hand back, he quickly heads back to the pie and sticks the candle into the top. Good thing Nick isn’t here, he’d burn this place down with it had he got the chance ,he jokes to himself. Hm. I wonder if he’s still out there, alive. But is he still like the friend I know, or a criminal..?

He shook his head firmly. No, no, I shouldn’t think like that right now. Today is Ella’s birthday. ,he told himself. Even then, he stole a look at a picture that was leaned against a basket. It depicted his adopted parents standing behind him and Sorella, with Nick having an arm around him. The picture was taken nearly a year and a half ago. Clay sucked in a breath thinking about that.

 “Are you moping over pictures again?”, Sorella asked with a frown. “You’re kinda ruining the mood, Clay.”

“I- no, I’m not. I’m fine- time just passes so fast, don’t you think? You were just like.. seven in that picture. You’re nine today.”, Clay remarks. “That’s not even including that baby picture.”

“Baby picture?”, Sorella echoed, tilting her head a little. “What baby picture are you even talking about?”

Clay pulled out a box from under a table. It was full of old notebooks, a few photographs, and some other memoirs. Memoirs of before Nick being exiled from Mahnburge.

He takes out a slightly crumpled picture, and shows it to Sorella, who peers at it. “Is that… Dad? Like, real real Dad?”, she asks, pointing to the man with black hair and light colored eyes on the left. 

“Yep. And the lady on the left, who’s hugging me is our Mom.”, Clay says, pointing to the figure on the right.

Sorella curiously frowns. “Why’s there a hole on her?”, she asks Clay.

“Dad ripped her off from it. I guess he was angry at her for something. He never ranted about what she did, exactly, just that she left.”, he responds with a shrug, before putting the picture in his jacket pocket, kicking the box back under the table. “But no time for that now. It’s your birthday!”

Sorella quickly gets into her chair in a flash, excited. Clay wasn’t sure if she was excited about the pie or the fact it was her birthday, but either way, it made him smile.

And so, he starts to sing. “Happy birthday to you”, he begins, enjoying the look of excitement that shone in Sorella’s eyes. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Ella, happy birthday to-”

He was cut off by a strong pounding on the door.

Chapter Text

It was all a blur after that.

However, Clay did remember bits and pieces of what happened after the knocking. It was too fast, too sudden, however, and it made his head spin.

“Quick- hide your mask! Go into your bedroom and hide!”, Clay had urgently told Sorella, who nodded, brown eyes wide open as she quickly scampered to her room and shut the door.

I just hope that they won’t search her room, Clay thought worriedly. I also hope that Mom and Dad won’t be punished, and that they and Ella will be alright. But how did they know? Surely they haven’t.. Oh no.

The Emperor’s forces had been watching him.

It was the only explanation he could think of. How else would they have known? Clay knew he was in trouble. But he knew he would be in even more trouble if he didn’t answer the door. An escape would be too risky, since if they were following me, they’d be watching all openings. And we don’t have a secret entrance or exit, Clay thought. Only one thing to do.

Gathering his courage, Clay opens the door. 

~~

“You better not die, okay? O-or I’ll stab you with a fork!”

~~

Now, Clay was outside of the safe city walls. It made him nauseous to think about what else happened. He can remember that he was banished because of having “An unregistered mask” and “Being out past curfew”.

As he walked through the woods, only two pieces of leather accompanying him, he decided that he’ll think more about his situation later, where the mobs, like spiders and skeletons, won’t jump at him upon any given moment.

The branches and leaves of the mighty oaks, birch, and various other trees blocked the light from the sun. I wonder if Ella is okay. She would’ve grabbed the nearest axe and lunged at one of these trees in desperation to show that she can be just as strong as me. She’s not wrong, though. Sometimes, she is, although, in all cases, Sorella with an axe would be scary as hell. Clay thought with some amusement.

His small little thought soothed him slightly, and so, he continued, with a little more pep in his step. Even then, however, no time to rest. He needed to find shelter. 

These leather aren't going to be very helpful. I don’t have a crafting bench, or enough of it to make armor, Clay surmised, cutting off as he heard the snapping of twigs.

He jumped a bit, alarmed, but calmed down as he realized that he had simply broken some sticks under his shoes. Whew, it’s just some twigs. Wait, I can use these for making a very simple shelter, if I have enough of it.

Clay picked up a few sticks on the ground, holding them in his right arm, while his left hand held a particularly sharp one. The Emperor’s Guards had confiscated his pocket knife, so this will have to do.

After collecting the sticks, he continued moving on. Clay couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease, however. It was quiet in the forest.

Too quiet.

Walking faster, Clay’s eyes flitted left and right. A safe spot would be really nice. This is creepy. How do the Outlaws do this?

Clay has heard about the rumoured Outlaws before. According to the stories, which were further spread by The Emperor, the worst and most dangerous of the exiled people made a civilization within the woods around Mahnburge and were a menace to all. They stole from the markets occasionally, destroyed buildings, and sometimes even committed murder. And they had never been caught. 

He remembered seeing one such raid. Clay one day saw a lady who looked like a hybrid between a sheep and a human rush out of the city with a few other people, with either sacks of material over their backs or were fighting off pursuing guards. The sheep lady rammed into one of them, knocking them down, before running away as more came.

Clay would’ve cheered them on for doing so, if it weren’t for a man with a blue mask with a star on it snatching a rotisserie chicken from his hands as he ran by, with a pink-ish figure snatching his sack of potatoes, straight from his other hand.

It was both awesome and horrifying. He’d rather not run into them. I really don’t want to be robbed.

As he was walking along the wild growth of the forest, some leaves fell from a tree. Clay thought nothing about this, until he realized something. If nothing is here, then why did so many leaves fall?

“Who’s there?”, he called, summoning some bravery. “Show yourselves, unless you’re a coward!”

Suddenly, four figures jumped down from the treetops. Well, s***, I’m going to get kidnapped, Clay thought. Yay. I’m kinda glad that I managed to keep my mask, though., he continued, putting a hand to it to make sure it’s secured.

One of the figures had an orange shirt with a symbol of fire stitched into it. Another had a black and red cloak. The third wore… goggles. Some really weird clothing. And the fourth was what seemed to be an anthropomorphic Siamese cat. They each held either a stone or iron sword.

I need to get away.

Out of sheer adrenaline, he punched the fire guy really hard in the face, and ran away. Please don’t chase after me, please don’t chase after me, pl- oh f*** they’re chasing me.

Clay heard one of them shout, but he didn’t stay to find out what was being said. I bet they weren’t expecting that.

Goggle guy was getting too close for his tastes, though. He threw one of his sticks at him, and winced as the stick’s point went straight at his forehead, and knocked him over onto the floor. Ow, that has got to hurt, Clay thought as the goggle guy screeched.

The cat leapt at him, intending to grab him, and was very close to doing so, but out of either panic or instinct, Clay stopped briefly to kick in in the ribs, which resulted in a pained wheeze as it stopped to put a paw at it’s stomach. 

Clay fended off a swipe from the fire guy’s sword, stabbing at him with his pointy stick, which caused him to jump away to dodge. Scared of a stick? Yeah, that’s what you get.

Clay tumbled over a log, quickly getting up afterwards, as the cat grabbed him and fought to restrain him, claws out and a sword to his neck. Oh, great, now they’re going to kill me. But not today, he thought, struggling, pushing himself backwards in an attempt to surprise the cat in an unexpected direction. Surely, this wouldn’t work.

Except that it did, and the cat stumbled back, swiping his sword at Clay, who got free and grunted a bit as the sword hit him.

I have definitely angered them, Clay thought, continuing to run. I just hope that they’ll go awa-

He cut off as he fell into the freezing cold water of a river. He tried to shout, but the water muffled his screams as water rushed into his mouth. I can’t swim, he realized in panic, as he attempted to paddle upwards, and away from the sharp rocks in the water. 

The water swirled around him, threatening to tear him apart. Clay burst his head from the water, gasping for air. He couldn’t see what was happening, his mask crooked enough to block his vision. 

As he felt his head collide sharply with a rock, he could swear he saw what seemed to be a  person walking in the water towards him, but dismissed that as a hallucination, as the lights went out.