"No! We must not allow her nakedness to bring further curse upon us. She must be burned at once to rid us of the calamity she has brought upon us all!" Gerald's voice rang with authority as he addressed the men who had hoped to prolong her humiliation. A collective sigh of disappointment rippled through the crowd, but none dared to challenge his command.
Lilith was yanked forward, her wrists bound as she was dragged toward the towering stake that stood ominously in the center of the market square. The furious cries of the gathered townspeople filled the air, their insults and condemnations like a relentless storm against her ears. But as she stumbled forward, her gaze lifted, and the deafening noise of the crowd seemed to fade into an eerie silence.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Amidst the crowd of enraged faces, her eyes locked onto a man standing still, unmoving, his brown hair tousled by the wind, his expression unreadable. There was something in his gaze, something that sent a jolt through her chest. Pity, she could see it clearly, as if feeling ashamed, he lowered his head.
Lilith swallowed the lump in her throat as she felt herself hit the ground roughly, the impact jolting through her body. One of the guards had deliberately tripped her, sending her sprawling onto the harsh, uneven dirt. Her palms scraped against the rough surface, the jagged edges tearing into her skin, leaving behind stinging cuts.
She hissed in pain, instinctively attempting to push herself up when, without warning, a brutal kick landed against her side. A second followed almost immediately, knocking the breath from her lungs. A pained groan escaped her lips as she clutched her stomach, the searing ache radiating through her body.
But there was no time to grieve her pain. Before she could recover, a hand gripped her hair, yanking her upright with merciless force. A sharp cry slipped past her lips, but it was drowned out by the jeering crowd. One guard twisted her arms behind her back, restraining her, while another swiftly wrapped the coarse rope around her body, pulling it tight against the wooden stake. The rough fibers bit into her flesh, securing her in place with an unforgiving hold.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes fixed on the ground patiently waiting for her death. Lilith had given up on a miracle happening.
Gerald held the stick, its tip engulfed in flames, "let this be a reminder that we the people of Eryndor will not allow the devil to deceive and make a mockery out of us. Let this be a reminder that there is no place for witchcrafty in our home." He spat in anger, his voice loud and sharp enough that everyone could hear.
A middle-aged man rushed toward Gerald, his face pale as if he had just seen a ghost. Beads of sweat covered his skin, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He halted beside Gerald, leaning in to whisper something urgently into his ear. Their hushed conversation quickly turned into an intense exchange, their expressions shifting between shock and frustration. Whatever the man had said left Gerald visibly shaken, his once confident demeanor now mirroring the man's distress.
The villagers murmured in confusion, their excitement wavering as they watched the strange exchange. What could be so urgent as to delay their sacred ritual?
Before anyone could voice their concerns, the distant sound of hooves striking the earth shattered the uneasy silence.
Then, through the open gates, two imposing figures emerged, mounted on powerful horses. Gerald hastily discarded the burning stick, letting it fall to the ground as he rushed forward to greet the newly arrived men. The villagers watched in stunned silence as the two riders dismounted their powerful horses, their presence commanding immediate respect. Behind them, two councilors followed closely, their expressions unreadable.
Gerald, his posture stiff with nerves, bowed deeply before them. His voice wavered slightly as he spoke, attempting to mask his apprehension.
"Y-Your Highness, my Lord," he greeted, his tone laced with forced politeness. "It is an honor to have you here. Had we been informed of your arrival, we would have ensured a proper welcome."
"It seems you have forgotten that it is the end of the month and you were supposed to pay for the merchandise delivered to you two weeks ago." The older of the two men replied, his voice carrying authority.
Gerald shared a look with his councilors, "forgive us my lord, we have not been able to raise the money for the merchandise. Have mercy on us and give us a few more weeks." He pleaded.
"And why would I do that? I have given you more than enough time to pay me. I even had to come see you myself because you kept making excuses and giving empty promises to everyone I sent your way," the man sighed, his tone laced with exhaustion. His eyes flickered to the person beside him, who appeared completely uninterested in the conversation.
"Please, Lord Lucian, have mercy on us. Our produce is not doing well, and we have been struck by a plague that has claimed the lives of twenty of our people, most of whom were farmers. Once this hardship passes, we will be able to deliver what we owe you," Gerald pleaded, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"A plague? How did you come about with a plague?" Lord Lucian questioned in interested.
"We... we found a witch among us," Gerald stammered. "She consorted with the devil and brought this plague upon us as punishment. She is a wicked child, cursed with misfortune, bringing only pain and suffering to those around her." He gestured toward Lilith, his finger trembling as he pointed at her.
"A witch?" The other man questioned, his eyes fixed on Lilith.
"Y..yes your Highness, I can show you." Gerald answered, he gestured to one of the councilor to prove to the Prince and his uncle that Lilith was indeed a witch.
Councillor Orion loosened the ropes binding Lilith, pulling her forward until they stood before the prince. Without hesitation, he took a knife from one of the guards and swiftly sliced her skin open. Lilith gasped, struggling against his grip, but he held her firmly, preventing her from pulling away. Within seconds, the wound mended itself as if it had never been there, the skin knitting back together seamlessly before their eyes.
"A..Her wound is gone, there is no way she could have done that if she is not a witch." Councillor Orion stated.
"Hmmm, quite interesting." Lord Lucian replied, his eyes shifting from her hand to her face.
"We are here to collect the pay and if you can not do that, I will have the guards destroy your little home and bring this village to the ground," The prince voiced out, the coldness in his voice sending shivers down their spine.
Gerald and Orion fell to the ground, "please Your Highness, do not destroy us. Give us a little more time. We will do anything."
"Very well then," he said after a short pause, "I will spare your pathetic village on one condition," he watched the men's eyes widen in surprise and anticipation, "I will take the little witch with me and you will have a month to pay in full."