(This is not the full story, I’m currently drafting the full story write now)

Chapter One

We arrive in the center of the kingdom square for our “Mission” as the Emperor, Lord Avalon likes to call it, when really a public execution is held every once in a while, when he senses unrest in our kingdom.

We file into the lines, the lines of separation, the poor could never stand next to the wealthy, that would be silly. We have to check ourselves in to find out where we stand in order to watch the flames erupt. Usually the poor stood in the back, as far away as possible from the rich, but this time was different:

“Name, age, church, class?” The check-in guard said. He has a slight country accent.

“Unis Waldorf Sinclair, age 16, church of Ava, working class” He cracks a smile, at what, I’ll never know. Maybe the name of the church of Ava, it is such a idiotic name for the king’s church, you could tell he ran out of ideas so he just crossed out most of his name.

As the guard flipped through the books of names, I imagined punching until all of his teeth were knocked out. Everything about him is an annoyance, it’s probably his bright yellow teeth that hung out of his mouth, and the way he wore his guard uniform with it so uneat, like the emperor wouldn’t kill you for being a mockery of the guards.

“You have a sister?” I nod my head as Dom inches her way towards his table. I could see the fear in her eyes by the way they were just slightly glazed over. “Information?” He’s obviously impatient and wants to get his day over with and do whatever it is guards do; illegal smoking, illegally drinking alcohol. What could get the lower class in trouble would only give them a mere slap on the wrist to him.

Dom repeats the exact same information I gave him, just different names.

“You both are in section one nearest to the stake.” I sigh in unison with Dom. We both dread these events and the fact we are so closer doesn’t help. And what makes it sadder, is I always know who stands in front of the crowd, burning, it is almost always people from Devil’s Row, where we live.

Dom and I were assigned specifically to the first row, with no more than a few feet of space from the burning This is how the Lord establishes fear.

I think lord Avalon had a realization of how the rich watch for sport, cheering on the fire as it feasts upon the sad, probably falsely accused witch. It’s disgusting.

I could never say that magic isn't bad, but knowing that when you get reported for witchcraft there is barely any fact checking, it’s hard to find the event enjoyable.

When Lord Avalon comes out, I have to crane my neck as he waltzes out onto stage, with his guards, ready to give a speech on how wrong the witch is, and how they deserve death, like always. When he is on top of the stage I could touch his heeled shoes if I wanted to. I didn’t but I could, I don't feel like dying today. “I demand silence for this, total silence.”

Lord Avalon is short, not the height you could expect from a terrifying overlord of the Avalonian Kingdom, but the clothes on his back added to his intimidating figure. He wore a garb with the Avalonian symbol on his back, he also wore a mask that covered everything but his mouth, and his mouth wasn't covered to show his everlasting smile. Every picture and portrait of him was him smiling. And everytime I saw him talk, all he did was smile. He knew it was intimidating.

“Before we bring out the filth, I need to remind all of you that what we do here is important. We do this to save you, to keep the evil away from whom you may love. Magic of any sort whether it be to heal someone or to hurt someone, is rooted in the evil inside of them. Remember that today, and you will surely be safe from wickedness consuming you.” He motions the guards to take the witch up to the stage.

It’s a woman, younger, I think. She is practically torn apart, bruises and blood everywhere, and her malnourishment is well shown with how skinny she is; Practically a fossil of the woman she once was, you could easily count her ribs and even the bones in her arms. Around her wrists you could tell rope had been tightly tied to her.

A guard hands Lord Avalon a large torch, one to drop on the wood that surrounds the stake. It was an awful scene, it sent chills down my spine. The way the rope attached her to the stake, and the way her head hung low. I can’t tell if she’s already dead, if she’s asleep, or if she has given up fighting for herself.

“May this fire symbolize my undying oath to protect the kingdom from these magic-ridden monsters, and may it be remembered for the sacrifices I made for this kingdom.” He releases the flame to feast upon the woman’s body.

Smoke fills the air and blasts directly into my face. It burns so` much. This is why I’ve never understood the rich’s obsession with seeing the flames up close.

She wakes up as soon as the fire spreads to her tangled hair. She looks into the crowd, searching for a kind face to help her, she finds Dom and I. The only children in the section she faces. “Please help me, please!” Her screams gargle, and are barely intelligible. Dom digs her head into her hands, but I can only stare, I can’t take my eyes off of her.

If I say anything to her I will die, if I do anything, even if it’s berating her, I will die. Anything but silent means you support witchcraft, in Lord Avalon’s eyes.

“Please! I need to live, I have children!” Behind her eyes, is her whole life, she’s watching it burn with her. I can only imagine the children, seeing what’s left of their mother burn to the ground.

I look over at Dom, who has tears rolling down her face. Her silent cry sent me into a state of fear. More than I was already. I don’t risk giving Dom comforting whispers, I can’t with Lord Avalon standing 7 feet away from me. But I can move my arm into a slight hug without getting in trouble, so that’s what I do.

She yells many unintelligible things, begging for help from the kingdom that was supposed to fight for the citizens.

I stare down until the witch gives up her battle to stay alive, audience. When I look at her burned face, her face looks almost melted off.

It must be an awful way to die, you feel everything, you choke on smoke until it kills you, or the fire gets to you first and chars your body. I can imagine myself in this situation, the burns, the pain, makes me feel sick thinking of it.

When her body stands motionless on the stake, Lord Avalon stands in front of the ever burning flames. “Let this be a lesson to all of the unfound witches, to repent and throw away the devilish ways of witchcraft. Now would anyone in the audience like to out any witches they know, the flames still burn on, there is still time.”

A hand flew out, which isn’t a lot out of the devoted 15000 that stood in the audience. A larger grin carves its way onto Lord Avalon’s face, an awful, disgusting grin. “Give me the names and we shall schedule the next burning.”

A man in the front of the wealthy section a few hundred yards away yells a couple names. “Mary Jane, Irene Clair, Olin Credge.”

A few painful gasps pierce the air, and chatter explodes through the audience. All talking about those few people who had their fates decided for them. All talking about how two of the names were children.

It’s a game to the wealthy. Witches aren’t human, just a mere show. They don’t care if it’s a child or half dead elder, or anything in between, they want to see the fear, and their entertainment. Children in the kingdom are the most beloved, the only thing people will fight for in this land of complete control. Only the super wealthy would allow a child, or devil’s child, as they like to call them, to be captured because of their accusations.

“Settle down! Or there will be consequences!” The guard’s booming voices and crossbows hanging above the crowd, silences them, “Anyone who talks will never be allowed to talk again!” Lord Avalon’s smile still clings to his face despite his guard’s threats towards the people.

“Let this day ring in your mind, for if you take the ways of the witch as your own you shall perish!”