《Tale of fire》chapter 1

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Xeranus woke up with a splitting headache. She groaned and slowly raised her head and sluggishly looked around. She could see she was slung over a horse that was being led by one of the executioner guards by a rope. Behind her there were five other guards on horseback, escape would be impossible. The next thing she noted was a leather gag resting uncountably in her

“They’re not taking any chances, are they?” thought Xeranus. She was suddenly brought from her reverie by the lead guard.

“So, our passenger has decided to wake up. About time, I thought you were going to sleep the whole way.” His tone was heavy as if this was not pleasant for him either.

Xeranus glared at him, muzzle still in place she was unable to speak but hoped the muffed grunts she and glares made her point for her.

“Now there is no need to get angry at me, darling I’m not the evil one here. I changed your metal mask for that gag, that’s a kindness that won’t get me into trouble. I’m just doing my job, I have no choice in the matter.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

“You know, it’s a pity that you are being executed. A beautiful woman like yourself, what a waste. You’d be quite a catch for any suitor if you weren’t going to be dead soon and different...” He spoke glancing around towards her with an impish smile to look at her.

uggg this man has no tact, thought Xeranus rolling her eyes. Why is he trying to charm a dead woman

"I think I will call you moon hair after all your hair is as bright as the moon," he said chuckling to himself

She gave him an icy glare for it and thought “Does he give all his captives nicknames especially a pariah like me?”

completely ignoring her glare and began to talk about the tavern in his home and how others could not compare to it.

He then preceded to talk about everything and nothing for the rest of the day. Xeranus in her efforts to block out thoughts of her imminent, horrific death, forced herself to listen to the stories of his childhood adventures. She couldn’t believe that she had a man who was soon about to tie her to a post and leave her to be eaten alive by a twenty-metre-long winged demon was talking to her like an old friend.

Hours later the sun dipped to its lowest point. the fool halted his horse, surveyed the area and nodded.

“We’ll make camp here, get her down. Gently!”

“Aren’t you being too friendly with her?” asked one of the guards.

“We could keep riding to the next site, it doesn’t get dark until late.”

the man sighed and snapped “I don’t want to be so close to shrike territory at dusk, do you?” Besides, this one hasn’t had time to grasp her situation and make peace and I was just helping her stave off the fear.”

“As you say, sir.” Was the reply, the mention of being near shrikes was enough to agree to make camp here.

The guards walked over to Xeranus’ horse and firmly but gently lifted her down. the fool untied her hands, which were behind her back and fashioned a noose around her neck from a long rope.

“You may go for the call of nature and do what you need to do in the woods, obviously I’ll need to keep hold of you.” He explained, lifting the rope in his hand almost apologetically.

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Xeranus appreciated the gesture despite this mans prevues behaver but didn’t feel like speaking.

When She came back from the woods and was escorted towards the centre of the camp. the fool loosely tied her hands again then laid her down next to a well-used firepit where wood was being piled for a fire.

Xeranus watched as the men gathered wood, laid on her side slightly propped up on the uneven ground.

“I’ll get some wartroot brew on if you like?” She piped up, wartoot was something she was fond off but then, the taste of leather of the gag made her frown as the gag would make drinking the wartroot impossible.

“Oh… Silly me, you’ll have the gage removed first. does Anyone want wartroot brew? Anyone?”

Everyone simply ignored him and carried on, with their food but he simply chuckled at it as he walked over to her placing a metal bowl with a steaming brown liquid. Within reach of her before moving the gag to allow her to drink the wartroot as she did. Xeranus was amazed at herself for being like this, being sentenced to death should probably be a more serious time not drink a calming brew of wartroot before the day of her death. She had herd somewhere that extreme stress or guilt could send people mad. That must be it, maybe it was a coping strategy for this fool for all those he had condemned to wait for their deaths.

Once the fire was built and lit she was given a basic meal with more Wartroot she could not help but reflect on her situation and how to avoid it. It was impossible of course, she was constantly going back to thoughts of trying to escape. Seducing a guard was an option if only there was more time. She’d had a good feel of her ropes, it would take longer than an evening to get those off if at all, tatty though they were it would take a sharp edge for her to get herself loose. There was no convenient jagged rock or an easy to pilfer blade anywhere.

Thoughts of all of the guards dying horribly in ever crazier scenarios ran through her desperate mind. As if reading her mind, a guard walked came and ensured her bonds were tight. It was dark, food and drink had been had and they all seemed to be settling down for the night.

“Don’t bother trying to escape?” said one of the guards. “We will hunt you down and we won’t be as gentle as we have been.”

“What a charmer you are.” Xeranus cooed sarcastically. “Nighty night soldier.” She wiggled her fingers in an attempt to wave coyly, despite the bindings on her wrists then blew him a mocking kiss. the solder opened his mouth to speak then changed his mind and turned away muttering to himself.

She heard the fool snigger from a few feet behind her then call out, “Don’t you go confusing my men, it’ll take forever for them to get over it!” Goodnight, moon hair.” he said jokingly

She glowered. at this mans antics before lying down for her last night

It was late at night and Xeranus couldn’t sleep so she rolled onto her back and looked at the sky as it changed from green to purple to red in the eternal dance of the spirts. How can the sky be so dazzlingly beautiful yet the world had been so cruel and ugly to her so this was my life then Xeranus thought sadly? As the sky continued to explode into an eruption of exquisite colour she couldn’t help but remember her past. With the greatest clarity of her life, from the first moment, she could remember, she had been bullied and ostracized because of her hair. Her father, although she knew that somewhere in his heart he loved her, ignored her most of the time. Apart from mealtimes, sometimes.

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Her days were spent isolated from the rest of the village, gathering food in the forest, cooking and reading from the collection of books her family had collected over the generations either in the forest or the meadow. It had been that way as long as she could remember since her mother died she believed but she couldn’t remember that far back very well as she only five years old at the time. All he did was drink and stare into space. They talked and hugged occasionally and she cherished those moments but there was rarely a bona fide conversation. Xeranus had, as she grew older and wiser, believed it was grief that had sent him to that place and continued to love him all the same. Until he passed in the fire.

She shook her head slightly to dispel the memories and looked up at the beautiful sky. ‘Great spirt Arcas, what did I do wrong?’ Tears slowly slid from her eyes. ‘I don’t want to die I want to live. Live a happy life!’ she thought as she silently cried herself to sleep under the shining sky and a new moon.

……………………………………..

That morning when Xeranus woke up there was a heavy atmosphere hanging over the camp like a fog. It was no surprise that she wouldn’t be feeling great right now but she thought the guards would be used to this. It wasn’t uncommon in small villages in Snowland for those that didn’t fit in to be accused of witchcraft, given a farce of a trial and hauled off to their death. Well out of sight of the accusers, she noted. Arcas forbid they are made to feel guilty for what they have instigated. The sombre mood continued while they ate breakfast. the fool had gone over to his horse and taken out some red honey bread and Agway fruit for her. This was a surprisingly kind gesture, theologically the bread represented the body and the fruit the soul. The belief was eating these before facing death (whether definite or possible), would cleanse the soul in preparation for the afterlife. It was a traditional last meal for those condemned to death, the fool must’ve known this was not the case for those found guilty of witchcraft. it certainly raised Xeranus option of him despite his past interactions with her

Little was said as they struck camp, not surprising. the fool was blatantly avoiding her until she had been lifted onto her horse. For the rest of the journey, the fool grew more and more sombre and less talkative. Xeranus knew why this was and was dreading it as well. “All good things must come to an end, hey. It’s a pity I would have liked to kiss her”, he said, barely within earshot of her to another of his men. “Why in Arca’s name would I kiss you?”. Thought Xeranus annoyed, ‘but on the other hand he’s been nice to me,’ she thought, ‘and he did prepare me for death.’

They rode for a while before cresting a hill.

‘Here we are, we have arrived’ said the fool solemnly.

Xeranus looked up from where she was at the site of the crucifixion. All around there were bleached bones strewn everywhere. If she was to look around she could see mangled skeletons in various conditions bound to rocks with rotting ropes and rusting chains. She shuddered; knowing what was in store for her.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ said the man. ‘He looks sad,’ thought Xeranus. If only she could speak to him and tell him she was not some pretty thing as he thought and deceived a smack however Xernus was happy she was to find someone that cared somewhat. She cursed the ironfor what seemed to be the eightieth time.

As the guards lifted her from her horse she turned her head and looked up the fool as he sat on his horse wondering whether, if they had met under different circumstances, could have been friends she wondered. As if he knew she was looking at him, he turned to her and smiled sadly. He looks sad,’ thought Xeranus. If only she could speak to him and tell him she was not some pretty thing as he thought and how grateful she was to find someone that cared somewhat. She cursed the fact that they had gagged her again.

As the guards lifted her from her horse she turned her head and looked up at the fool as he sat on his horse wondering whether, if they had met under different circumstances, could have been friends she wondered. As if he knew she was looking at him, he turned to her and smiled sadly. He then looked to the sky and began to speak in a commanding tone,

“Great spir tArcas, hear my plea to deliver this child to…”

“Stop it! Do you want the Shrikes to hear?” interrupted a plump, unkempt guard with ill-fitting armour.

“Let’s get this done and get out of here quickly,” whispered another eye darting around behind his shaggy ginger fringe, clearly on edge.

“Last rites are important!” the fool hissed angrily. He continued quietly under his breath, all the while looking to the sky.

“You have been trying to give those out every time we bring a prisoner!” exclaimed another guard.

They walked Xeranus over to a large rock and placed her back to it. As they were tying her to the rock one of the guards stopped what he was doing and said, “What’s that noise? Thunder?”

The other guards stopped still liaising tensely for the distinct whip-crack of a Shrikes wing beats. Then after a few tense moments, Xeranus could hear a distant but distinct and rhythmic crack boom that permeated the air. The sound was growing closer with every moment and her guards were now running to their horses. The closest ones were already mounting up as well as the fool who gave her a backwards glance before riding off with the rest of his men leaving her to wait and listen to the sound of her doom approaching

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