The nation of Laitia was well known for being a vibrant, prosperous land – a ray of divine light amidst a world of hellish darkness. Located within a fortress that even the most boorish of warlords wouldn’t dare brave – a menacing mountain range expanding one end, and a heavily patrolled barrier reef on the other – the nation was widely untouched by the hands of outsiders. This allowed its people to focus inwards, which in turn led to them bettering themselves and their country; it allowed the production of a utopian society. From picturesque cities, to world renowned vineyards, to stunning expanses of countryside’s dotted with little farm towns, Laitia seemed like something draw directly from a storybook. The people of the fine country didn’t disappoint in their reach for perfection, either. Latia was filled with some of the most beautiful individuals alive, especially when one looked at folk of the upper class.<br/><br/>Beauty was of great importance to the people, despite the fact that the nationally upheld religion of Yannic preached that men and women should adhere to practices of humility and charity as opposed to vanity and self-indulgence. Fashion was a particularly hot topic among folks of the upper class, and among women especially. It wasn’t uncommon to have a different color dress for every day of the week, and women were often found to match the hue of their clothes to the mood that they found themselves in on any particular day. A navy blue dress might indicate sadness, a black dress mourning, a yellow dress joyfulness, a red dress anger, or passion, and a sky blue or earthy green often indicated a state of contentment and relaxation.<br/><br/>Many of the women milling about the streets of the city of Oralie were donning those soft, natural tones on the day of August the sixth, as a comfortable lull had fallen over the city as it warmed under the midday sun. Despite the heat there were many individuals populating the streets, enjoying the company of loved ones whilst they milled about down the main paths on either side of the river that flowed through the heart of the city – Many folk were taking part in the nations favorite pastime as they moved up and down what had become the marketplace over time: shopping. Carts lined the edges of the streets and there people could indulge their pure, if not slightly self-serving, desires. There were carts catering to all sorts of interests, from fine fashions, to delectable snacks, to delightful toys and trinkets, there was something for nearly every individual. The good people of Oralie milled about happily and carelessly, at least until the bells that were located within the centrally located tower began to frantically ring. The consistent hum of chatter among the population fell silent within seconds, and everybody fell completely still as they listened to the clanging of the warning bell.<br/><br/>Approaching hunters, that was the only thing the bell was used to alert the people of aside from sunrise and sunset. The Witch Hunters of Laitia, another famous piece of the nation’s intricate culture, were a group of individuals that consistently moved through the country in search of its sinners. The term sinners was a particularly loose one in Laitia, as it consisted of any of those individuals that the general population didn’t wish to see among their own. Some were genuinely bad individuals, that had an overall negative affect on the population, but many were innocents that were sent away to the capital city of Phara to atone for sins they didn’t commit. Others were innocents that were seen as dangerous to the general population, and that was where a particular individual named Felix Merle fit into the puzzle.<br/><br/>The last of a dying and already forgotten family line, Felix was seen as more or less a leech in his home city anyways. As a result of this, when he was accused of being a devil conspirator, and of inviting a demon to take refuge within him, the loss wasn’t mourned by the general population. Many seemed glad enough to finally rid themselves of the pest that was the final Merle, as he along with the last four beggars that took up space in the streets were tossed into cells within the church to await the arrival of the hunters.<br/><br/>Despite the fact that the arrival of the hunters meant the disposal of these public nuisances, most of the nation’s population still found the presence to be rather unsettling. The wails of those victims of public disapproval rang through the streets as they were removed, and they seemed to echo down the path they took for quite some time after. So, at the ringing of the bells folks promptly retired to their homes, ushering whining children along and closing up their sales carts for the remainder of the day. Felix heard the bells from his spot settled on the floor of his cell, and he sighed heavily and rested his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into his shins firmly, his nails leaving little half-moon bruised along his pale skin.<br/><br/>Four men arrived in the cellar of the church to collect their gifts to the Hunters, and they ushered the group up the stairs unceremoniously after releasing them. There wasn’t any need for frills, they knew the drill, and they knew that running wouldn’t lead them to anywhere but an early grave. So, they quietly submitted, trekking up the stairs and out the massive wooden double doors at the head of the chapel. The only sound in that moment was the sniveling of the youngest in their party of four, who couldn’t have been more than eight years of age. She had been accused of her crimes the same day as Felix, the petty theft of a horse figurine was her crime, and apparently that had been enough for her family to abandon her. He had known her before they ended up housed in a cellar together, the fiery hue of her hair was a rarity among the people of Laitia and it had marked her as an outsider, just like him. He was rather fond of the child, he had to admit, though they’d really only had minor interactions with her.<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fs-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com%2F736x%2Fba%2F19%2F5a%2Fba195a8f69957bb01a0769f8199919f3--red-head-kids-ginger-kids.jpg&amp;hash=de103b29c52e69a29f21c453be18c061" href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ba/19/5a/ba195a8f69957bb01a0769f8199919f3--red-head-kids-ginger-kids.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Alice</a>was her name, he believed. As they stood there waiting for the men in black the little red headed beauty cried, and Felix briefly glanced at one of their captors before crouching down beside the girl and reached his bound hands up to her little freckled cheeks.<br/><br/>“Chin up there, little lass. We’re going to the capitol now, and did you know that they say everybody in the capitol rides atop massive white horses?” he whispered as he delicately wiped away her tears.<br/><br/>“R-Really?” The little girl whispered, sniffling softly as she gazed up at Felix with eyes that appeared to hold the sky and ocean delicately within them.<br/><br/>“Yes, my dear. I’m sure some of the Hunters will tell you all about it on the way,” he murmured with a warm smile.<br/><br/>“And will I get a white horse as well?” She breathed out, distracted momentarily from her fear at the potential promise of a magnificent steed.<br/><br/>“Well, I suppose it won’t hurt to ask, now will it? Maybe if we can’t get you one we can at least get out on top of one for a moment, eh?” he responded, delicately lifting up her chin with his fingertips. “We won’t get to ride any horses at all if we aren’t brave though, because the horses will be able to sense that fear. So, keep your chin up, love, and all will be well.”<br/><br/>The girl would likely end up dead when they arrived at their destination, as would he if the rumors he’d heard were correct, but there was no reason for her final stretch of life to be consumed with terror. Felix stood, though only after the girl had acknowledged his request for bravery, and just in time to, as a legion of men clad in shining chainmail armor was trekking down the street towards them, a man decked out in a beautiful scarlet satin robe stepping in stride just in front of them. They stopped about five strides from the small group and the man in the robe rolled out the scroll he was clutching.<br/><br/>“Alice Cheveleir, Felix Merle, Agnes Dubiot, and Marco Rubio, you stand accused of crimes against the highest order of the church of Yannic. We are here to escort you to the capital city of Phara where you will stand trial and be justly punished for the sins you have committed. If you have any grievances against these claims against you, speak now, or forever hold your peace.” Nobody spoke. There was no reason to, they’d not get many words in before they were silenced anyways. “Perfect. Now that that is settled, I’d like to introduce you to the man that will be overseeing your trip to Phara. High Priest Arsène Gervais, if you would kindly step forward to make your face known to our newest charges.” The man stepped back to allow the Priest to take his place and address the prisoners as a group before they were separated and taken away to their individual horse drawn cells that were stationed in a little temporary camp just outside of the city.