Aerith walked closer to the crown, his body feeling heavy with every step he took. He could hear the screams from the crowd grow wilder, he had read of things called witch hunts in the book. Unlike normal sorcerers who used the normal magic linked with nature, witches and wizards were dark sorcerers who used much darker magic that was devoid of life.
They were infidels, abominations to the world. Aerith had seen the book mention such rituals some times. He had always wondered how they had managed to catch them. He managed to find a small wooden box where he climbed to see the platform ahead. His joints almost fell off as he climbed up to the top of it, when he stood on top his eyes widened at the sight before him.
Tied to a wooden cross, was a witch but not the type he expected to see. She had long purple hair messy and pulled out, probably by her captors. She wore sack clothes dirty and covered in blood, the ropes used to bind her arms and legs were so tight he could see blood dripping down from them. The sight caused his heart to grow cold, he swallowed hard and mouthed the words. "That's horrible."
What surprised him even more was the fact that she was only a young girl, looking to barely ten year olds. It made him go from afraid to enraged.
The man with the torch boomed. "In the eyes of the gods and the men, I will now send the soul of this devil spawn back to the hells where she came from."
Aerith watched him being the fire closer to the young girl tied to the wooden cross, his breath completely left him as he watched the scene unfolded slowly. "Why, isn't she fighting back?" He asked himself as he watched the girl simply stay put, if he did not see the signs that she was breathing he would have said she was dead. "No, stop. Don't do this." He said but his voice was too hollow to be heard.
He started to panic even further, if they heard him what would he tell them? There was nothing he could do, to rewrite the history of the story. But why would he give a damn about the story in the first place, the story he had spent years reading was never real.
The fire was now inches from setting the girl on fire, it danced and swam, reaching out from the wooden torch desperate to have a taste of the so called witch. Aerith froze in fear, and for the first time the girl came to life.
When she did she was anything but a girl, she went feral like a wild beast set loose. She screamed and walked, kicking her legs and throwing her arms but the thick ropes that bound her prevented her from those actions. That did not stop them from tightening on her wrist and ankles, cutting a few blood vessels adding to the pool of blood that was already on the ground.
The crowd continued to laugh and shout words at her.
"Witch!"
"Devil's spawn!"
"Demon!"
The man was about to set the young girl on fire when a scream split through the night, it was loud and high pitched. "Stoooop!!!" The air seemed to go quiet after that, the stars itself turned their attention to the earth, everyone turned their eyes back to see...
Aerith started to cough violently, he could not control his emotions and in the process screamed. He did not expect his weak body to react so violently, he coughed even more sending blood spilling out of his mouth and on the crate where he stood. His throat burned and stung like they were shredded, he even doubted if he would still be able to speak again.
The man holding the flame touch looked at him and growled. "Who let that boy in here, run along you little pest."
Aerith held his throat trying to swallow the pain that was building up in them. He could see dozens of angry eyes staring right at him, his legs trembled threatening to give away but he willed it to keep still. "Leave her alone, she's just a girl. Just let her go." Tears rolled down his face, with every word he uttered he could feel the tissues in his throat begin to tear once more.
Then came the long silence he hated more than anything in the world.
He paused and looked at them, and they did not look happy. His eyes went back to the girl, she was no longer wailing like a wild animal— instead she remained docile, seemingly dead.
The man with the flame torch spoke again, slower this time. "Get out of here before I bury your ass in the death right next to her. Why do you even care about what we do to a spawn of the devil."
He didn't know what he was doing, but he did know it took a lot of courage. He knew what he was doing was right. And that was all he needed to know. "Why do I care? Maybe because I might be the devil." The mumurs in the crowd stopped and they all looked at him with maddening eyes, something told him they believed him. Or maybe they would simply just used that as an excuse to bind him to a stake and burn him too.
After he had said that Aerith noticed the young witch coming back to life, her head raised itself slowly till he could see a bright purple glow where her eyes should have been.
"Do you think this a game boy? You mock us." One of the men in the crowd said and he wasn't pleased.
Aerith gulped down and thought to himself. "I am so fucked."
Before he could protest he received a blow to the chest launching him off his high stand, it felt like he had received an anvil to the chest. As he impacted the ground he felt a crack in his chest and blood pouring out of his mouth.
"Fuck, these guys would even raise their hands on a boy." He cried in his mind.
"An insult like this cannot go unpunished, bring him to the platform. We will build a pure for him too and burn him." Said the man holding the flaming torch.
Aerith's eyes widened, he heaved a deep breath and looked up to the men. In his eyes they were more like animals than men, he held his chest and screamed within. "What in the seven hells is wrong with these guys and killing kids?"
Another voice boomed from the crowd, even louder.
"The gods be damned, isn't he cripple son of the Cassendal Lord?"
Aerith would have smiled if he could, but he was currently going back and forth between wincing and groaning in pain. "Thank the heavens, now that they know that I'm the son of a lord, they let me go. Or take me back in exchange for money. I pray my wards not be broke right about now."
The crowd started to speak again, words he regretted hearing. Each one more devious than the last that his face was filled with even more turmoil.
"All the more reason to have him killed."
"Burn him with the witch."
"Maybe that's why he's a cripple."
"He's been touched by death itself."
Aerith cried as they started to reach out to him, their huge beady hands and evil smiles etching close to him. In that moment Aerith felt fear, the fear of dying.