Chapter 56: The Burning Times

                                    

                                          


                          
I managed to fall asleep only to wake up to a voice pulling me into consciousness. 
                          
"Now do you see? They are not your friends, they don't care about you." the voice sang. 
                          
I'd recognise the voice anywhere. It was Morgana. My eyes shot open and I was lying on a dirt path. I sat up looking around. She was nowhere in sight.  
                          
It was night, the moon shone down illuminating the area. I was surrounded by a forest. 
                          
A woman ran past, making me jump up in surprise. She was dressed as a medieval peasant. No, she was a medieval peasant, I realised. 
                          
I started walking down the dirt road where I could hear a loud ruccis and shouting coming from. It was a medieval English looking village and there was a commotion happening in the centre of the township. 
                          
At least forty people were gathered, surrounding a large pyre. I pushed my way through the crowd and was shocked to see there was a woman tied to said pyre. 
                          
She looked familiar. 
                          
"Adrianna Covett, you are found guilty of the crime of witchcraft and are sentenced to death. You will burn at the stake. Let the holy flames purify your desecrated soul and may you throw yourself at the Lord's feet and beg his forgiveness. Now is your chance to renounce the devil!" A man announced. There were cries of "Burn the witch!" and "Go to Hell, devil!" amongst the crowd. 
                          
I felt ill, this wasn't real, was it? 
                          
The woman at the pyre held her head high and met the eyes of those around her, unflinchingly. Though, there was one man whom she lingered on: he stood out from the crowd- he looked better dressed, more wealthy than those around him. 
                          
He was tall, wore a fancy doublet, had ashy blonde hair and brown eyes. But it was his expression that startled me, he wore a look of contempt and triumph. 
                          
I wasn't the only one who noticed. A woman with raven black hair pushed her way through the crowd, knocking me aside to lurch herself at the noble man, looking like she intended to claw his eyes out. 
                          
"You monster! I'll kill you!" She was shouting. She was grabbed by the mob, holding her back from reaching the man. As she continued to struggle, her face came into view and I recognised her with a jolt. It was Morgana. 
                          
She looked to be no older than sixteen or seventeen and was dressed in simple, peasant clothes. Tears were running down her cheeks as she continued to try to attack the noble man. He put on a show of confusion and surprise at her anger towards him, but I could see underneath it. Underneath he was gloating.  
                          
The man who had read the charges then stirred up the crowd, as if this were a family sporting event, not an execution. He held up a torch of fire which made the crowd shout and cheer louder. 
                          
I could hear Morgana's screams, pleading for them to stop. No-one paid her any mind. 
                          
Adrianna, the woman tied to the pyre, found Morgana's gaze and was saying: "I love you." I could just make it out amongst all the chaos. The man with the torch then lit the pyre, the crowd cheering. It was like everything turned to slow-motion. 
                          
The flames caught and spread quickly until they were covering the woman whose screams were mirrored by Morgana as she watched on, still being held back by some of the mob. 
                          
The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils, making me want to gag. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. My feet were glued to the ground. 
                          
I watched the flames consume the poor woman until she was nothing but ashes. The crowd dissolved, returning to their normal routines, apparently unaffected by the brutality they had witnessed. The only ones left before the pyre were Morgana and I. Tears were running down my face and I could barely breathe.