Young Writers Society

Evangeline I: The Murder

"Slice of the she-demon's toes, and feed them to the crows!" shrieked a beggar.

"Then let the sorceress drown in a pool of her own blood!" bellowed a woman who had brought her two infant children to the hanging, and she threw a copper to the man, nodding and smiling at him to show their shared disgust.

Evangeline leapt over the beggar, squeezed through the legs of the woman, and elbowed her way through the crowd whose voices were nearly all joined together in one cry of "BURN THE WITCH!" Just one puny, pitiful group of students from the University of Science and Innovation shouted to the contrary- "FREE AREIA! LEARNING IS NOT A CRIME!"- as they tried to fight off the Malicia with their placards. Swinging her sign declaring "EDUCATION IS OUR RIGHT!" towards a Malicia club, one protester hit Evangeline, propelling her forwards into the throng surrounding the pyre that had already been built. Evangeline could glimpse the Justice sat upon his raised throne at the opposite end of the court. But where was Areia? Evangeline craned her neck, hoping to get a view of the dungeon gate, but it was no use; she would have to get nearer if she hoped to see anything.

All of a sudden, the crowd's chanting reached a tumultuous roar. They've brought her out, Evangeline thought, heartbeat quickening, and with one last desperate shove she found herself at the front of the crowd, standing just metres from the condemned.

The young woman being dragged towards the Justice was nothing like Evangeline had pictured her. Where she had expected to see a fierce, wrathful warlock, sending out sparks of pure magic with every step, was a scrawny, shaking, stumbling girl. Her legs and arms were covered in fresh scars; one foot was missing three toes. She flinched away from the guards who hauled her up each time she fell to the ground- were they the ones who'd tortured her? Evangeline wondered. Or was she too traumatised to know? Lady Areia's eyes were wide with fear and red from tears.

"BURN THE WITCH BURN THE WITCH BURN THE WITCH BURN THE WITCH!" bellowed the crowd.

The Justice cleared his throat, then held his hand up, asking for silence. From his high throne, he surveyed the ruin of Wizard Arietto, who just days before had graduated top of the year. "You, the Lady Areia Isabetta Myrcella Donatella Echivarria," he declared, "are found guilty of the murders by magic of Professors akd;fjasjfs aksjf;ls and akdjf;als adlk;fjasl and of Malicia guards Sergeant dkaj;flsj, Private klsjf;lasjf, Private skfj;aslj and Private as;flsjl, of grievous bodily harm inflicted, also by magic, upon Professor askjf;sjf, Wzd sjfaskljf;ls, Wz akjdksfja and Wz ajslkfjs;f, and of grievous bodily harm inflicted by the foot to the belly upon Private akl;sjfls;js, of the arson by magic of a historical, listed and sacred building, of the theft of a wizard's staff, of the fraudulent impersonation of your late brother, the Lord Arietto Horatio Paulo Dimitri Echivarria, of fraudulently acquiring a magical license, of practicing magic without a valid license, and of the heinous and accursed crime of witchcraft, of brewing beer whilst under a vow of abstinence, and of acquiring a beard through false means. Do you confess to these crimes?"

Up on the platform, the Lady Areiaattempted to croak her response through a split lip, cracked teeth and a mangled tongue. The crowd strained to hear her: a street-vendor selling rotten fruit to throw and printed accounts of Areia's fall to immorality for half a baluchi stopped mid-transaction; the rabble screaming "BURN THE WITCH!" fell silent; the Malicia dragging the struggling students away were still, and the students ceased their cries of "LEARNING IS NOT A CRIME!" A Malicia stood by the pyre shifted restlessly, and gave his flaming torch an experimental swing towards the twigs. One spark flew off and landed on a twig. For a moment, it appeared that the pyre would catch alight and burn before they could place their witch upon it, but then the spark fizzled out.

Finally, she found her voice.

"I acknowledge these actions," murmured the Lady Areia Echivarria brokenly. She took a deep breath, and voice quavering continued. "However, I do not confess to them, for to do so would be to say that I believe I have done some evil, when to the contrary I have fought for what is right and just." She raised her voice above the cheering of the students and the jeers of the crowds. "It would be to say that I am ashamed of my actions, when I will be proud to die for my beliefs, and it would be to give in when I know that the struggle shall go on!"

The crowd were in a frenzy, spitting and shaking their fists at the woman on the stage, cursing her name and her unnatural ideas.

Only the Justice was unmoved.

"You have confessed to crimes," he said, staring at Areia with blank eyes, "so immoral, so repugnant, that by law you ought to be executed eighteen times: eleven times by hanging," Areia shuddered, "twice by forslug," she winced, "once by four-horses, once by death by crow-cage, once by beheading... and once by burning." Areia whimpered softly. She glanced at the pyre, blanched and looked as if she were about to vomit.

"Unfortunately," the Justice continued, "there is no known way to execute someone eighteeen times without using the darkest of magic."

"DO IT!" shrieked voices in the crowd.

"ETERNAL DEATH TO THE DEMON!"

"MAKE THE SORCERESS SUFFER!"

"FIGHT EVIL WITH EVIL!"

"PARDON ALL CHARGES!" the students bellowed desperately. Evangeline gasped as she saw a Malicia hit the ringleader of the students over the head with his truncheon, sending her to the floor with blood spouting from the wound.

The Justice allowed himself the briefest of emotions, a smile at those disrupting the peace being dealt with. "Which shall it be?" he asked the crowd. "How should the witch be punished?"

As if they were reading from the script of a twisted horror story, the crowd took their cue: "BURN THE WITCH! BURN THE WITCH! BURN THE WITCH!"

The Malicia with the torch by the pyre was clapping his hands, shouting along with the rabble. In his carelessness, the torch brushed against the pyre. This time, he was not so lucky, and he watched in horror as flames caught and the pyre began to blaze.

"Areia Isabetta Myrcella Donatella Echivarria..." the Justice said, "you are hereby declared a witch and sentenced to death for this and the other aforementioned crimes. Execution by burning shall be carried out forthwith." Then he banged his hammer once upon the arm of his throne, stood and, cloak whirling, departed from the courtyard through the Jail Gate.

"MURDERER!"

"THIS IS NO JUSTICE!"

"HOW CAN YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT?"

" YOU WIZARDS' WHORE! YOU SORCERERS' SLU-" A truncheon to the face stopped the protester from finishing, and the last of her friends were finally overpowered. The Malicia led them kicking and screaming away, leaving their "EDUCATION IS OUR RIGHT!" signs upon the ground, to be trampled upon as the crowd flocked to the now blazing pyre.

Areia's last reserves of strength and bravery had fled from her with her hope. As they dragged her towards the flames, she flailed out at the guards, clawing and scratching them. She broke free for a moment and raced to leap from the platform, only to be passed back up to the Malicia by the crowd who were desperate for the smell of burning flesh.

"I've done no wrong!" she pleaded the Malicia surrounding her. "I'm only nineteen. I don't want to die!" Some laughed; the rest, grim-faced, ignored her. She turned her eyes to the crowd, searching for someone who would save her. She spied Evangeline, staring horror-struck at the scene, amidst the throng of bloodthirsty faces. A certain calmness fell upon Areia's face, and some of the courage she'd had before the sentence was passed returned. She reached into her corset and extracted a shiny, ruffled black feather. The flickering flames of the Malicia's torches shone upon it. She clutched it in her hand to her chest, closed her eyes and breathed, and when she opened them again they were filled with a steely determination.

She was now close enough to the Pyre to feel the heat upon her face. As the Malicia shoved her forwards, she gave the feather one last lingering look, then released it to flutter down into the crowd.

Areia stepped into the flames. First they licked at skin then they took hold, and the stench of smouldering flesh filled the air. Evangeline was unable to look away. She saw Areia grit her teeth and grimace, holding back screams, as her hair and clothes blackened and fell away. Sweat, soot and blood made rivulets down Areia's scrunched-up face. Tears trickled from Evangeline's eyes, yet she watched unblinking as Areia's skin crisped, until she finally broke and emitted one piercing long scream.

Areia's scream heightened and then suddenly faltered. She collapsed- unconcious or already dead? - into the centre of the bonfire, so that all the spectators could see were her remaining seven toes, curling and shrivelling.

The sun seemed to suddenly set and the sky turned dark so that all that lit the scene were the flickering flames of the bonfire. Looking up, Evangeline saw thousands of dark shapes moving above them, blocking the sunlight with their wings. A few in the crowd began to scream.

Then the crows descended. As one, the murder feel upon the crowds, so great in number that the beating of their wings drowned out the cries of shock and terror. They screeched a terrible war cry- CAW CAW! CAW CAW! CAW CAW! CAW CAW"- as they stabbed the crowd with their beaks.

"Oh my, oh my!"

"My eye! My eye!"

"My BABY!"

Panicked wails filled the air. There were a dozen crows to every member of the crowd,

each seeming to target them with a vicious vengeance.

Only Evangeline was untouched. Blood flowed from those stood around her, yet not one wing or one beak beat or bit her. The pyre was obscured from vision by the throng of black, blood and carnage; the stench of burning human was overpowered by the rivers of blood. Evangeline's feet felt wet. She looked down and realised she was stood in a puddle of it, a puddle of blood from all different people mingling together, and different body parts floating in it... Was that a finger? And that a tongue? Then Evangeline glanced something else...

The feather. The feather Areia had thrown; a crow's feather, Evangeline now recognised it as. It had landed at her feet. It was glistening wet with blood. Without really knowing why, she bent to pick it up. She wiped the blood from the feather onto her dress, then she placed it in her pocket and wiped off her fingers.

Swiftly as they'd came, the crows departed, their CAW CAWS! now falling upon the silence surrounding the corpses and half-dead, dismembered bodies they'd left. When the air had cleared, Evangeline looked towards the pyre.

It had burned out. All that was left of Areia Echivarria was a pile of ashes.

And a courtyard flowing with blood, and a sky filled with the screeching of crows.