4 mintuesA Chapter by speckledbyrd“Traitor!” The nearest rioter spat the word as Etta was escorted into the Great Hall. Escorted was what the soldiers called it. I would use something more along the lines of marched, or dragged. The soldiers continued to maneuver me into the center of the room amid the deafening sound of the crowd. Not cheering, but screaming bloodthirsty curses, and calls for murder all aimed somewhere in my direction. The shackles that bound my wrists and feet were hooked to the stone floor. “QUIET!” the Heron yelled, echoing throughout the vast crumbling ruins of the chamber and into my left eardrum. My right eardrum had gone dead from a hit somewhere in the last day or two. The Heron was an older man of self-discipline, inside the body of a man only just old enough to be my father. His skin was tanned to leather from the sun, but the muscles underneath were strong enough to crush bone. Shoulder length, midnight hair slicked back, the roots were the hair of a man, but the ends morphed into feathers of the same hue. I knew that at any moment, the Heron could change his shape and take flight.
3 minutes 32 seconds
“The trial of Etta Eilom will now proceed! The charges are as follows,” said the Heron. He knew he know longer needed to yell. The room was listening to his every breath. While the Heron captured all ears, I had every pair of eyes. My torn shift felt too thin. I knew they no longer saw the grace in my slender limbs, but the blood smeared across my chest and under my fingernails. Where they used to see piles of earthen curls, they now saw grime and ash that caked my hair into dreads. “Consorting and aiding with the Anachim as treachery, attempting to erect heresy on the Gods, aiding in the structuring of mass hysteria through acts of terrorism, and attempted mass murder on the people of Malachim.”
2 minutes 4 seconds
The volume in the Hall returned at the word ‘attempted’.
“She’s a murderer and deserves to burn!” “She’s a liar!” “There is no place in the Afterlife for mongrel w****s!”
The last came from a tall wiry man that stepped forward from the crowd. Viktor Far’loch was dressed in the robes of a High Bishop. He was the second holiest man in all twelve tribes of the Malachim, the first being Mavrolena who was known only as the Crow. Viktor had pale gray eyes with the slits of a cat. Felines are worshipped among our people as guards to the Afterlife, having souls holy enough to travel as they please through this life and that. At the moment, those eyes were narrowed in disgust. “We have done nothing but give you life in this treacherous land. In a time where water is scarcer than diamonds we bathed you. You came to us silent and hungry and we fed you. As a people we raised you. You with no marks or words, nothing but a human set on a path by the Gods to die, you betrayed us! You seduced the Empress, used your body to convince these holy people to trust you, and you turned around and stabbed them in the back. No, there is no place in the Afterlife for you.”
19 seconds
There should have been rage, or even sorrow, but I felt nothing but the cracked stone I was standing on. There was a vibrating in the floor that was finally getting the attention of the crowd, taking their attention away from me for half a moment.
2 seconds
I couldn't see it, but I heard it. The explosion tore the room apart behind me, sending my bruised body violently to the stone floor. Everything went black. © 2014 speckledbyrdFeatured Review
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