Prologue: Burning
Burning They started a fire. The woman knew the end was near. The woman felt herself dragged across the stage to the pile of wood. The men tied her to the wooden pillar in the center of the pile, the rope so tight it dug deep into her flesh. She couldn't ask the men to loosen the rope because she was gagged, not that they would have listened anyway. She didn't try to get out, or even to get more comfortable. The woman knew it was hopeless, that all was lost, and she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her struggle. She promised that much to herself; she would not let them see her struggle and writhe, nor would they hear her scream. She would remain perfectly still, calm, harmless."The woman before stands accused of witchcraft!" Shouted a man whom the women did not know, nor did she care to know. "This woman stands accused of bringing plagues upon our town, supporting our enemies, and of stealing your children. She has harnessed the powers of The Dark One, and of his demons. This woman was caught and confessed to her sins under witchfinder general, the courageous Michael Kobbins. And now, she will pay for her crimes."The shouts of "Burn the witch!" and "Kill her!" rang out from the crowd of people who came to watch the witch burn. From her place atop the pyre the women watched them all impassively. She had known this day was coming since the black-robed men had first knocked on her door. She knew it was all over then. No women accused of witchcraft ever got off. She no longer
cared about the men and women watching, no longer cared about her own life. At this point the witch just wished they would get on with it. Why did they feel the need to make a spectacle, and call for her burning, though? She stood there, tied to a pyre; they ought to be able to see she was going to be burned. So why all the screaming? She would never understand mobs.Like most witch trials the women was convicted under false evidence drawn out of the air, and had a false confession drawn out of her through torture. Like most witch trials the women was made a scapegoat for the town's problems, when really it was only the gods who could have affected it. Unlike most witch trials though, for once these con-artists had caught the right woman. The woman really was a witch, guilty of all sorts of spells and magic dealings. But, the women had no effect on the plagues and poor weather the town had been having, nor did she deal with demons. Anyone who understood demons as well as a witch did would know that no mortal could possibly harness their power. No, the woman was guilty of witchcraft, but not for the crimes she was accused of. And she had only stolen one child, but their was a good reason for that one. The woman, the witch, wondered how many witches were left in this world. She wondered how many of her brothers and sisters still lived. For every witch burned at least a hundred innocent women were killed, but still, if only by happenstance, the witch hunters had managed to bring their numbers down. The woman knew there couldn't be more than a few dozen who still had magic in their blood left in this world, and most of those men. The men of their order were safer than women in this time, but the order needed both to survive. The woman knew, if things stayed like this, all her sisters would soon be burned. The woman knew the end was near, and she would be one of the last witches to ever live. Witches were not, as it was believed, regular women who had made a pact with any sort of demon. The witches were much older than the religion of the Light One and the Dark One; they were the last remnants of an ancient race; not quite human, not quite monster. The witches were an order trying to preserve the old secrets, the magic from the days when dragons, wizards, elves, and magic reigned over the world. The humans feared the witches for reasons even they did not understand. But the woman knew, the witches were feared and hated, because they reminded men that they didn't always reign over this earth. And that like men brought an end to the age of magic, one day, something, would bring an end to the age of men. The man lit a torch, and tossed it toward the witches pyre. The woman did not flinch as the flames began to catch the wood around her. She could feel the heat rising around her, but she kept her promise to herself, she did not writhe, she did not scream, she did not cry. She took her last look upon this world; a sea of angry faces partially obscured by the waves of flame rising in front of her eyes.Now the woman herself was on fire. It became much harder to keep her promise as the flames licked away her clothing, melted the skin from her body. She knew she would die soon, and she couldn't help but allow a solitary tear to fall from her eye. A single tear for everything she had lived for. It was a tear for her own life, but not only. She shed that tear for her sisters, the many who died before her as well as the few surviving ones who would die like she did, on the pyre. She shed that tear for the magic that lived before now. She shed a tear for the world falling into corruption. But mostly, she shed that tear for her daughter. The girl of only eleven who would probably die soon if she was even still alive. The
girl who didn't even know what she was; why she lived alone in the woods with only her mother, unlike any of the girls in the story books. Most of all, she cried for her beautiful child who had never seen anything of the world, but would soon see more of it than any child should ever have to. The tear boiled off her face the moment it left her eye. The witch was burned. The people were happy. The mob went home. Nothing got better. Well, I haven't posted anything in four months. That was mostly because the only two things I posted I quickly grew to hate and regret posting. Both were intended to be introductions to larger stories that never happened. I then decided I wasn't going to post another story unless it was a short story that could stand on it's own or else I was positive I would continue with it and not hate myself too much. I'm hoping this one turns out better, the first few chapters are already written so look for those shortly. Hopefully this one goes better. If you're bothering to read this I hope you enjoyed this beginning and enjoy the later story once it gets written and posted.