Clothed in filthy rags and clad in shackles and chains at both my wrist and ankles, I was lead by heavily armed guards down a hall of dingy stone so cold that it burned like fire where it touched my bare feet. Cold, wet slime and moss coated parts of it, along with dark brown stains I had a sneaking suspicion were long-dried spatters of blood. Ahead of me, a courtyard opened to an overcast sky, a blinding stark white as a background to dozens...Perhaps even hundreds of angry, accusing faces.

All I could remember thinking to myself is why...Why am I here, what have I done to deserve this? I remembered nothing of the past days or weeks, no crime that would justify such treatment. Slowly, the area opened itself up to me, the light almost blinding me. Squinting, I could make out a vast empty wall to my right, with what appeared to be shackles bolted into the stone up high and down low. The stubs of arrows that had been broken off but not removed stuck out from cracks in the stone. The air reeked of the sharp, acrid scent that I have grown quite accustomed to in my line of work- Blood. Fresh blood.

Lined up across from the wall were a row of five sharp-eyed Elven archers at attention, finely crafted ebonwood bows at their side, a crest I did not reckognise from afar burned into the dark wood. They all wore blank, emotionless stares, and their faces reminded me with a shiver of the face a freshly-dead corpse bears. Cold, vacant eyes turned towards me and regarded me with what felt like pure hatred, though the rest of their bodies remained motionless. The crowd, situated behind the archers and behind a set of strong looking barriers, hooted and jeered as I stepped into the courtyard, and I could pick out several profane words rising above the din occasionally. Moments later I heard the jingle of chains on stone as two other people, an Elothean woman and a Halfling male, both looking equally miserable and cold were brought up to stand on either side of me. I noticed, with some bit of interest, that both of them had what looked like an inverted star burned onto their palms. With a glance down at my hands, I noticed I bore the same strange marking on my own palms as well.

With deliberate steps, a portly man dressed in what I thought to be unnessicarily bright and colorful clothing stepped forth with a scroll. Clearing his throat loudly, the crowd quickly quieted as he began to speak in a calm, clipped voice.

"Please bring the criminal Kythryn Silverspruce forward."

The woman to my left released an abrupt but distinct sob of mingled fright and hopelessness. Two guards appeared from behind her and roughly grabbed her, dragging her to the chains on the wall. I couldn't help but notice as they put the shackles on her that their hands were not only bearing steel gauntlets, but thick leather hide beneath. It was almost as if they were afraid to touch her skin. I also couldn't help but notice that the shiny burn marks on her hands were displayed for the crowd to see, and this was met with hisses and boos.

"You, Kythryn, have been found guilty as charged with this most heinous crime against the people. You have been accused and found guilty of Shifting another. Have you any last words or prayers to say before your sentence is carried out?"

With these words, the previously motionless archers fluidly swung their bows forward, viciously barbed arrows nocked and aimed with deadly precision at their target.

"There is no crime. There is nothing to say."

With an almost imperceptable nod of the portly man's head, the archers loosed their arrows, each landing in the preordained spots: Through the mouth, through the throat, through the heart, and through the abdomen. The fifth arrow, I finally noticed, had hit the woman's right hand, piercing the star through its center. Her body slumped, the shackles binding her hands holding her body up, so the crowd could see that justice had indeed been served.

After the cheering had subsided and the body had been removed and disposed of, I noticed the man had produced another scroll. He spoke again, in the same calm, collected voice.

"Please bring the criminal Mikiri Kyern forward."

I felt the guards grab me around the arms, now noticably thinner than they had been, and drag me forward. The stone out here was icy, searing my skin wherever it touched. I was shackled, the iron almost as cold as the stone, and to my horror I noticed I could feel still-warm damp spots of blood at my back. I forced the thought of the woman who had come before me out of my mind. I could barely hear what the man was saying, almost as if he were trying to speak to me through water. My head dropped forward, just as I heard the last parts of what he was saying.

"...Words or prayers to say before your sentence is carried out?"

I kept my head bowed for a moment, partly to relieve my eyes of the sharp white glare of the sky and partly to spare myself from seeing all those accusing glances. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, I lifted my head and began to speak in a voice that sounded distant, vague, and entirely unlike my own.

"I am an Empath. I am a good person. I am an Empath that has Shifted-" At these words, the crowd began to shout once more. I could pick out the words 'witch', 'monster', and 'sorceress' distinctly. With the raise of a hand by the man who had read out my sentence, the crowd quieted once more. "-But I have done nothing wrong. You all are the monsters, not I. And you can silence the voice of one of us, but you will never silence us all." By this time, the crowd had lost complete control and was chanting to loose the arrows, kill the witch, though the man didn't seem to care.

Half of me noticed that curt nod of the head, while the other half took no notice. The sharp twang of a bowstring punctuated by the sound of steel tearing into soft tissue was the last thing I heard.

---

I woke, quite grateful, within my own bedroll, tangled in blankets, my husband sleeping near the glowing embers remaining of the fire built earlier with his spellbook draped over his head, snoring loudly despite the muffler. I was sweating profusely, tears mingling with them as I slowly came to grips that it was only a bad dream.

Gods, I pray it remains just that.

By my hand,
Mikiri Kyern
25th day of the 4th month, 372 AV.

((On another more OOC note I would like to thank Kythryn for letting me use her as the victim in my story. Yer a great sport.))

>((On another more OOC note I would like to thank Kythryn for letting me use her as the victim in my story. Yer a great sport.))

heh, sure thing Mikiri. Let's just say though that there are TWO of us who hope it remains just a dream!

Regardless, I was honored to be included in such a creative work. Nice job!

Kythryn

Mikiri, -damn- good story, I had the chills, and Selarn can't even Shift!

Selarn's Psyche

>>Well thank ya! Considering posting my empath's life story here as soon as I finish writing it up in detail. In fact, I think everybody should post what they got for their characters...Would give us all something to read.<<

I'll post Villya's but only if no one laughs at me :P

~Villya

---

When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before.