The dress Lydia wore was probably once a beautiful dress. White, pure, regal. Sheer, with a touch of lace, long, modest, yet making the wearer appealing all the same. Not a far cry from a wedding dress, depending on design, but no, that's not what it was. It was a dress of uniform. Of high station.

Or at least it was.

Now? It was torn, ripped, dirty. Only a strip of fabric extended to the original length it once had, as the rest had been torn off, leaving more skin from her leg bare than Lydia was comfortable with. Fabric about the torso had been pulled, stretched, ripped, and hung loosely where it once fit snug. An entire sleeve from the top had been ripped off as well, exposing bra beneath, or rather what was once beneath the dress.

Lydia felt entirely too exposed.

Frowning, she moved her hands so that she could cover herself, make some effort to pull fabric up... at least she would have if she could move her hands. Or her arms. As it was, they were tied, bound behind her back at the wrist. Brows furrowing, she moved and shifted hands and arms as best she could, in an effort to pull away from her bindings. Nothing gave however, and it only proved to hurt. Almost as if wrists were raw, bound for a long time. Feet shifted somewhat, unbound, but bare against the concrete and rocks beneath her.

Wincing faintly, she looked down. Feet had to have been bare a while as well, as they were covered in scrapes and cuts. Frown on her face deepened as she looked back up. Everything around her? It was hazy. Too hazy. Shapes in the distance seemed to be just that. Shapes. Blurs even. Perhaps.. houses? Could that have been it? They were familiar, but she couldn't make it out, and seemed to be in a bit of a predicament that didn't exactly offer much time to try to figure it out.

Smoke.

It was faint, but it was there. The scent of smoke. Head turned slightly, Lydia breathed in again, deeper this time. Past the smoke she captured another scent. It was pleasant. A very distinct and unique blend of wildflowers. All too familiar though, but nothing she had ever encountered in Rhydin.

The realization she was no longer there caused panic to rise up inside her. The feeling that she needed to run overwhelmed her, so body kicked in, succumbing to that instinct. Lydia turned and started to run, and would have continued to run until she could no longer, but five, perhaps six steps was as far as she got before being blindsided. Something blunt and hard against the side of her head sent her tumbling towards the ground, and hands bound, she was unable to catch herself before face and arm scraped against concrete. Teeth clenched, a muffled cry of pain resonated within her throat as she laid there, dazed.

First it was one figure looming over her. Then another. And yet another. A few surrounded her then. They seemed so.. so faceless though. Hazy like her surroundings and thoughts. Lydia struggled and squirmed, trying to pull herself up, at least a little. Gaze lifted towards the figures crowded around her, seeming to watch with malice and contempt, taking pleasure in her pain. Even without expression she could feel those all too palpable emotions from them. Pale blues watered and squinted, searching beyond them. Perhaps for certain faces she could recall with clarity, faces she yearned to see. Faces she knew she wouldn't though. Not here.

As one suddenly stepped forward, Lydia pulled back in an effort to get away from them, even if a futile effort. A large hand gripped her hair, hair that she only just realized seemed shorter somehow, no longer falling about the nape of her neck. Lydia cried out as she was yanked to her feet by those shortened locks. She wanted to resist more, but she couldn't. The physical pain was overwhelming, and even her magic? She reached for it, but felt empty. It simply wasn't there to be called upon. Hand gripping her hair tightened into a fist, effectively pulling hair tighter against her scalp before she was simply flung to the mob around her.

She was pushed forward, from one person to another. A hand grabbed here, another hand grabbed there. She was pulled, tugged, hit, kicked, and even pulled close to one as a tongue slid over a now tear soaked cheek. Features distorted in pain and disgust, but try as she might, there was simply no escape, nothing she could do to fight back. The more she tried to pull back, to pull away, the more they made it hurt.

So she just gave in.

Finally though, she was simply tossed aside, landing back to the ground in front of some wooden steps. Strangely enough, they were clearer than her other surroundings. She couldn't quite see what they led to though. Not just yet. Teeth clenched, she writhed lightly in pain, trying to force it from her mind. She couldn't stand though, not on her own, so as a figure descended those steps she couldn't exactly move away from it.

Hands gripped Lydia's arms, almost gently, pulling her up to her feet. She staggered and swayed quite a bit, finding it hard to stand on her own, leaning against the other for support. Head tilted back so she could regard the rather tall figure, searching for their face, but they was cloaked, somewhat hazy as was everything else. Lydia had no choice but to comply, move with him as he led her up a step, another, and another... Feet burned, but the wooden planks beneath her was somewhat of a relief compared to the stones and cement. Looking away from the figure as last step was ascended, she looked beyond them, trying to see where she was being led to.

And hanging there, clearer than anything else she had encountered, was a noose.

"No!" Lydia's eyes widened at the sight as she pulled back suddenly, screaming, voice hoarse. As she screamed, she could hear the gathered crowd's muffled cheers. Try as she might to pull away, the cloaked one's grip tightened on her, moving her more forcefully towards the noose. Knowing the inevitable, more tears pooled and fell from her eyes as she whimpered. "No..." Words seemed to fall upon deaf ears however, as more cheers arose as noose was lowered around her neck and then tightened.

Stepping away, the cloaked figure crossed the planks they stood upon, hand reaching out for a lever to rest upon the end of it. The action caused Lydia to cry out in panic again, knees nearly buckling out from under her as she shook her head. "..please.. please.." Pale blues were pleading to match voice as she looked upon the figure, then back to the crowd. "..please.. don't.. don't do this!!" Gaze shifted back to the figure. "... don't do this.. please? I.. I can't.. don't.. just.. oh gods..." Voice broke as eyes were cast upwards then, towards the sky. Blue, clear, not a cloud in sight. ".. don't let me die..? ..not now.."

Cheering of the crowd grew dimmer and dimmer, ceasing finally. It was eerily quiet then. The scent of smoke and wildflowers flooded her senses as she cast one last look towards the cloaked figure, inwardly praying for mercy for whatever crime it was she had done to deserve this. She watched him, gaze unmoving as he reached up, pulling the hood down from his cloak so she could see his face.

Two very familiar, very blue eyes and emerald hair was taken in before the lever was thrown without warning. After that? Things simply went black as a distinct and sickening 'snap' resonated within her ears.