A Voyage

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geekosystem.com

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geekosystem.com

Someone has life figured out

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The Undertakers were a frightening bunch. Hunched and pale, they wore dirty black hooded cloaks, concealing ugly faces. Their fingernails dug into my skin. I assured them this was a misunderstanding, and that I was expecting an explanation from the King himself, who would be along shortly. After this, they branded my right shoulder with a red-hot iron rod in the shape of Aleria’s seal. Now, physically, if not at all actually, I was a processed criminal. It was in the records and was as good as true to anyone who cared. I cursed at them, spit upon them, damned them to hell, threatened their lives, and their family. Every time, no reaction was derived. I tried everything to thwart this process, and despite my effort, the calamity unfolded just the same. My hands were bound and hung up, so I couldn’t move. And then they hided me. I couldn’t even turn away. I tried not to make a sound. I was mortified. I was completely innocent, being erroneously castigated. But how could I fight this? Everyone was following through with an order, for reasons that still evade me. People I had known my whole life, couldn’t look me in the eye, like they were ashamed of me, yet still felt sorry for me. Sorry, I had chosen wrong. Sorry their picturesque lives would be tarnished from memories of the day John Bacon, son of Sir Roger Bacon, was sentenced for murder. Or perhaps, their eyes could not meet mine because they knew something I did not, and they felt their gaze might reveal too much. But after I knew the whip had cut through my clothes, all the way to the pink baby flesh, I couldn’t help it anymore. I could have screamed for help but none would have come. The only kind of answer I would receive was that of a fellow prisoner’s similar shrieks of pain. I opened my eyes once the pain went cold, and saw drops of blood on the dusty stone floor.

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