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Daedra sat at the cliff’s edge, letting his legs hang off it. He raised his left arm, pointing towards the sky and finding a wandering cloud. He seemed to draw the cloud towards him, placing it at the right angle to shade himself from the sun’s rays. “Silence”, he spoke, which calmed the whistle of the wind through the grass. Now he turned his gaze and transfixed on the horde of townsmen hurriedly marching to the stake, placed in the belly of the cliff. The crowd grew more violent as they neared. “Burn her! Kill the Omen!” they shouted. The girl they had been dragging was led through the crowd toward the front. The bruises became more evident with each passing step. She moved with an awkward jerk caused by the broken ankle. She breathed heavily and long. One of her eyes was swollen shut, and blood ran down the right side of her face, making it seem as if she were crying.

You could tell her body ached, but she did not scream, in anguish or sorrow. This surprised Daedra. “A child but so defiant,” he thought to himself. She was tied to the stake. They spat and threw rocks at her, but she did not give them any sign of diminishing but long stares of rage and malice from her only open eye. There was a man who stood next to her. He raised his right arm into the air and looked at the crowd. They all fell silent. He was a large man with a fully rounded body dressed in the colours of purple of the aristocrats. “We gather here to burn the Omen. Who has brought us nothing but pain.

“We thank the Gods and her kin for bringing her into the light, so we may purge ourselves of this plague on our crop”, the man shouted into the crowd. In return, the crowd cheered in jubilation. The girl scanned the crowd and found her family, who had fed her to her fate. With her last breath shouted, “You call me a heretic, plague, and omen. You are the fools here. I tried to tell you why your crops are failing. I tried to bring sense to our problems. Only to realise how blind your minds are. When I pass and your plagues persist, remember this moment. Mother and Father”, she couldn’t continue. She turned her gaze toward the sky, to see it for the last time. The aristocrat threw a lit torch towards her, and it set the pyre ablaze. The crowd cheered, but the girl did not let out a cry or whimper from pain but stood steadfast, looking at the sky.

Daedra’s fascination grew. He had never seen such conviction and resolve before, especially a child. Her body melted away in the flames. Her spirit detached from her flesh. She was in shock to see herself. Daedra pointed towards her as he had with the cloud, drawing her towards him. She felt herself being pulled upwards, and at the top of the edge of the cliff, she could see a cloaked figure.

@nesu_sc