Have you ever seen a witch?
If you have not, brace yourself, for you are about to witness the execution of the most feared evil in the kingdom, the Witch of Feyrer.
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Craeleon. The capital of Ionadi Kingdom.
The normally bustling city was unusual that day. The citizens: commoners, and aristocrats were gathered at the heart of the city. Hushed whispers travelled around making the scene ghostly. The Imperial Family, along with the Archbishop, were seated on the dais. On the platform below, stood a high priest. Everyone was waiting for something.
Apart from the chill of autumn, the air was also pregnant with anticipation. It had been a long time since the last execution, and the crowd was eager to see blood. The merchants, foreigners who were present at the scene, looked around, confused, their eyes darting with fear of the unknown surrounding the reason for the gathering.
"What is happening here?" Sima, a merchant, questioned boldly, after finding a kind face among the gathered. The old man turned around, noticing the confusion in Sima's eyes, he replied, "You must not be from here. Today-".
A loud gong echoed through the city. Sima and his fellow outsiders did not need the old man to answer. It was unfolding right at this moment.
"It is time!" said the High Priest.
Below the platform where the high priest stood were a spidery web of minor priests. Like echoes, these minor acolytes resounded the priest's words, so that even the farthest gawker from the dais could hear the holy words of the High Priest.
The eerie silence continued for a moment, and then the sound of chains jiggling could be heard originating near the platform. The intuitive people present there felt the need to run away before some misfortune befell them. But they couldn't move. Something kept them rooted to the ground. One could define this feeling as curiosity. But beware, curiosity killed the cat.
Just then, three figures went up the platform. A young woman with raven hair, once lustrous but now dull and caked with unwashed dirt, concealed her face. Escorting her to the platform were two knights, both of whom were measured in their gait, and alert in their gaze- the woman would find it hard to escape even had she been unbound.
This was Valerianne von Feyrer. The once-revered Duchess of Feyrer, now adorned with chains on her body, her once luxurious dress torn, stained with dirt and dull with dust. By law, the gallows walk was to be done in the nude but she had been afforded decency due to her noble birth. Even though she stood with her head bowed, her disdain for the people around couldn’t be concealed. Her presence was like a rock thrown into a calm lake. The people erupted, all the anger they had kept within them bursting like a volcano. They screamed:
“Die! Witch!”
“Go to hell!”
“You don’t deserve to live, wench.”
“Burn her alive!”
“Kill her!”
“Punish the witch!”
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Sima realized what was going on. He pitied the young maiden who was accused of being a witch. He questioned the ethics of the empire as all the aristocrats and even the royal family were so narrow-minded to kill an innocent woman.
“Silence!” The priest bellowed and the crowd quieted.
“Valeriannevon Feyrer, do you plead guilty for your crimes?”
She jerked her head up with violence. Her pale blue eyes gleamed. The priest could not help but notice purple flecks amidst the blue. He blessed himself, such beauty was obviously a product of a mystical covenant with evil. Soon, her eyes turned towards the Imperial family. Her lips rose to an eerie grin, not taking her eyes away she replied, “No, I've not done anything you've accused me of.”
Her words fueled the already lit flames of fury. A rotten tomato flew and struck the Duchess on the forehead. But the young lady never faltered. Eggs, rotten vegetables, wastes, rocks flew across the platform, hitting not just the Duchess but everyone on the stage. A banana peel smacked the priest and his face reddened with shame and bitterness. The knights furrowed their eyebrows in frustration. But the duchess stood tall, unfazed by the things happening around her. The aristocrats were perched on the gallery below the dais, watching the show, as were the Imperial Family, all until an object flew and almost hit the Crown Princess.
“Enough!" Came the roar of the Crown Prince, Elois Viturin de Ionadi, silencing the crowd. He then stood up and righteously declared, “For the complete disregard of human life and the practice of evil sorcery, Duchess Valerianne of the Feyrer House shall be stripped of her title and she will pay for the souls she sacrificed with her own.”
Cheers were heard as Elois declared the outcome.
The Duchess-no Valerianne smiled hearing the edict. Rather than a smile, it resembled a madman’s smirk, as she recognized Elois’ attempt at winning public opinion to his side. Of course, the Crown Prince had to keep the big picture in mind as a future monarch, which was a part of the reason for the public execution.
The knight dragged Valerianne to the guillotine, forced her on her knees, and positioned her head in the guillotine. He pulled her by the hair, forcing her to look up, “you’re no longer a noble you wench. How does it feel to be the very commoner you detested? You’re lucky you have such a simple death unlike your victims,” he spat and slapped her.
Blood trickled down her lips, her eyes widened and she clenched her jaws. She attempted to draw her powers to hit the swine, but as expected she wasn’t able to.
“These damned magic cuffs,” Valerianne cursed.
“What did you say?” asked the knight.
Valerianne looked up, this time willingly, and said, "You will pay for that, bastard."
The knight gave her a smug look, “You have to be alive to do that bitch,”
She gritted her teeth and stared at the knight’s face, memorizing it.
The Crown Prince watched the drama taking place with a thoughtful look on his face. Snapping out of his daze, he thought, 'the sooner this ends the better.' And signalled to the high priest. The high priest moved forward and tapped the knight on his shoulder. On making eye contact with the priest, the knight understood what needed to be done and retreated.
It was finally happening. Evil would perish.
“Execute her!” Elois' command rang as the blade headed for her neck. The blade sliced her neck, creating a sound that echoed throughout the hamlet. Gasps and screams filled the square as her head rolled down. Her eyes were seemingly alive, evident with contempt towards the people gathered. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the priest, knights and the commoners and priests near the platform. The high priest furiously rubbed the blood off his body, afraid that the blood would contaminate him.
It had ended. Justice was finally served
This was a day like no other. The death of this young woman impacted everyone that had gathered that day and many more. Some thankful, some relieved, some rejoiced, some heartbroken, some remorseful at the death of a young maiden and one who swore revenge.
The people dispersed in a trance. It had ended. But something didn't feel right.
None of the people knew the reason behind this.
Everyone but her. She knew this was not the end. She would return. And hell would be more comfortable when she's done with them.