A month came and went without a second thought.

Sybel had a strange, but easy, time teaching the boy Common. It was as though the boy was a sort of mind sponge, soaking up any and all information pertaining to the subject at hand.

However when all was said and done, a guard came forth from down the hall; unlocking the cell's caged door. "Boy! You're being let out! Same with you, you freak!"

"About time! I was starting to wonder when I'd get my last meal." Sybel smiled underneath her cloak.

"Y-Yeah..." Filius spoke his first word and, to him, it was a glorious first word.

The guard gave a disgusted look at the boy before he gestured for them to get out.

Sybel and Filius, of course, left the jail cell and are then escorted by four guards; two in the front, two in the back.

"Well this doesn't look too good," Sybel whispers to Filius with a glare, "We may be reaching the end of the line."

"B-But!"

"HEY!" The pummel of a sword connects with the back of Filius' head. "NO! TALKING!"

Filius held the back of his head, contempt growing inside him.

Sybel looked forward, eyes burning with hatred.

The two of them entered a courtyard where a wooden platform awaited them.

Filius looked to be fearful, while Sybel looked to be wrathful. Both looked towards the platform with wonder.

But after having arrived at the platform, and stood within the middle. The two of them were left alone with an executioner who seemed to be inhumanly angry. His body form did not match any known human either of them had seen up until this point.

However as they stood and waited for something to happen, a group of people came out from one of the many courtyard gates and stepped out into the light.

The faces of whom Filius saw among the group were startling, but yet expected given his circumstances. He saw the Head Clerk as well as the Guildmaster from among the people present as this seemingly glorified execution.

"S-Syb-bel?"

"I know.. Just sit still while I think of something.." She seemed to be examining the courtyard around her for a possible means of escape. Nothing really yielded any favorable results.