The Uprising

Sacrifice

Hi guys!

So a huge thank you all to the lovely reviews and feedback! I know I say this every time, but as a writer, I really do live for the feedback and reviews, so I love each and every one! Thank you!

Answers to reviews –

- There will be more Jix moments from now on – I'll make it my mission!

So a huge thank you to everyone and please read on!

Ella

It's been raining.

That's the first thing that I really notice as I step out of the pod: the light cover of water on the concrete ground, the wooden stage damp from the rain. The grey clouds ahead, threatening more rain. That's when I take in other stuff, things that I hadn't wanted to notice before. There's the crowd of people stretching behind me in their seats in the promenade already cheering. I can even see them clutching leaflets, as if this is some kind of performance. Screens are set up all along the mile-long promenade, so that the mogs furthest away can still see the show. That's when I see the cameras set up around the stage, already filming every moment.

Because the build-up is one of the best parts of the show I've heard.

I feel sick. My hands won't stop shaking.

The mogs have set this out beautifully; even I have to admit. The promenade is filled to burst with mogs in the seats, some even standing because there were no more free seats, whilst banners and posters are strung up everywhere. The stage is set out just in front of the temple of Setrakus, the temple itself raised on its hideous concrete foundation. I can see the podium cut into the stone, the braziers burning even now. But it's empty at the moment; Setrakus isn't here yet.

"This way," a mog leads me to the stage. I numbly follow him, barely thinking about pulling my dress' hem up from the ground so I don't trip. Do I look scared? I don't feel it; I just feel numb.

The stage is quite empty but I guess that's supposed to create an atmosphere. There are two thrones, which look like swords have been melted down and moulded into a chair. The metal looks like the materials used for ancient Loric weapons. The mog leads me to one, and I shudder when I realise I have to sit next to the monster that is my grandfather. But I can't react, conscious of the threat that they'll hurt Marina. I have to behave or they'll hurt her. I take my seat numbly, barely aware of the damp metal, the sharp points digging into me.

I think I'm shivering but I'm not sure. I feel sick.

Cody is already standing on the stage nearby, looking as sick as I feel. He has this sheath on his arm and the normal mog uniform, but it looks too tight on him. He fidgets around, and I can see him trying to loosen the collar of his shirt. I think about reaching out to him with telepathy but then I decide against it. I don't want to share thoughts with the soon-to-be murderer of Stanley.

My hands are still shaking and there's a sick pit in my stomach that is getting worse.

There's a sudden silence, the crowd looking up expectantly, and I watch as Setrakus appears, as if by magic, on the podium. I feel the pit in my stomach fill with a sudden anger, a hatred that is more intense than ever before. If I thought I hated him earlier, it's nothing compared to how I feel now. I try to bury it, hide it but I think it must show. Part of me wants it to show.

"Welcome!" Setrakus begins and the crowd fall deadly silent. I can see them straining to listen, desperate to hear every word. "Today we are to see three traitors receive their punishment for their crimes! Today, we are here to see justice done!"