"Are you afraid, my wee human?"
"Will you hurt me?"
"No, Ailsa. I swear to you I will never harm you. I'd rather die than lay a hand on you."
"Then there's nothing more to discuss."
◍ ◎ ◍ ◎ ◍ ◎ ◍ ◎ ◍ ◎ ◍ ◎ ◍ ◎ ◍ ◎
In 18th century Scotland, a roman...
My breath quickens, my lungs aching. This is it then. This is really the way I die.
My father stands at the helm, my mother at his side. Neither look at me as I'm led to my stake.
The people of my clan watch me. I search their faces. I see so many different things reflected in them, those who were supposed to be my family in a way.
Some look scared, sad. Others are eager. Most have furrowed brows and pinched lips. Angry. Whether they're angry at Gentry and I or my father, I have no idea. I won't have to worry for long.
The small group of men leading us stops in the dead center of the circle, clutching us tight as they face their Laird.
Wordlessly, my father nods his head. They move forward, my stomach rolls as I trip over stray bits of hay and stone as I'm hefted upwards.
My body automatically fights as I'm made airborne. I want to scream as I'm tied to the post, my arms tight behind my back, my head slamming into the solid wood. I can't get a sound out for a moment, all the air has been taken from my lungs.
I look to my left, seeing Gentry's stoic face as she turns to meet my gaze. Her smile is grim.
She will be the last face I see.
"You have no idea how sorry I truly am, Gentry. I love you." The words stumble out of me, my lungs allowing the final statement before my father steps forward for the crowd's attention.
His arms raised high, he looks every bit a smug king ruling over his subjects pinned beneath his boots.
"Today, what you see before you, are two witches. They will be burned for their crimes and then we shall have a grand feast to celebrate the snuffing out of this evil!" His small speech is met with hundreds of outcries.
The clan is rattling with excitement.
Fraser, where are you?
"The torches!" He booms, and the guards that collected us from the dungeons step forward, their individual torches held up in the air to display the brilliant, dancing flames.
"I love you too, lass, more than one could love their own daughter."
The answer has me sniffling, sobbing, my body aching and wracking with the force of emotion, and I hate that some might view my crying as my own fear, fear for myself.
I don't fear death. I fear the loss of innocence in this dark world.
Will there ever be light?
Fraser's face flickers to the surface of the darkness encasing my mind. His smile, his gentle touch, his lips on mine. Was any of it real? Was he playing me all along, so desperate to escape that I was his only option? Was his only hope to pretend to care for me? Earn my affection?
Even worse, did I let him? Yes. Worser still, did I regret it? Closing my eyes and imagining how I came alive when I met him, I fear I already know the answer.
"Let there be justice." The words from my father's lips are even and cold.
The hay takes no time at all to catch fire. It's lit from all sides, the fire eating up the tinder in mere seconds. Raging flames build and grow, turning hotter and hotter as they spread up towards us, reaching to burn us eagerly.
"There is no justice. Not here. Not from you." Gentry calls, and its met with the expected murmurs, but I'm shocked when a few cheers are scattered among them.
There are those that believe us innocent, those that don't support this needless slaughter on empty grounds.
I see my father's head swivel, searching the crowd of his clan with furious eyes. The rebels are quick to quiet themselves, self preservation taking over.
They may be smart enough to see this execution is a farce, but they are not dumb enough to let it get them killed here and now.
Dangerously hot fingers of fire flick at my ankles and feet, I scream out an involuntary shriek as pain ignites in the soles of my shoeless feet. The fire carelessly eats the hem of my dress away, heating my skin but not close enough yet to burn away my flesh, although it won't be long yet.
The stake doesn't even groan as I kick out, my body bucking wildly, trying anything to stamp out the blaze under me.
The fire releases a thick, black smoke. It swirls up and up and up until I'm choking on it. It invades me like a parasite, taking up needed space inside me as it goes where it pleases.
My lungs flare and suddenly the inferno that is determined to take my life is forgotten, but only for a moment.
I can't inhale, and black, deadly smoke is trapped behind my ribs, eating away at my body. I sag as I try desperately to dispel the hasersous aid, wanting to replace it with something fresh.
My lungs refuse to move.
My vision blurs and darkens as the flames get angrier, roaring higher. Closer and closer and closer. I'll be gone soon. Reduced to ash.
As my eyes tunnel out, I gaze up at the sky. It's turned a brilliant, dark blue. I admire it as things go dark. The last thing I hear is a deafening roar that seems to shake the very ground beneath us all.
Retribution has arrived.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and voting ❤️ It means the world to me!
