Conscience Astin was unaccustomed to staring Justice in the face. She had worked alongside it all her life, sent helpless souls into its unforgiving hands—but she had never faced it as she now did.
She had been taught to expect that this day would come—all consciences faced the day of their failure—but never had she expected that she would face death because of her own wrongdoing.
She stared blankly into the candle-flame atop the narrow table she had been allowed to keep in her cell. Beside the candle sat two books, a pair of spectacles, and a piece of bread, but the trappings of her old world no longer interested her. She continued to look into the yellow-red glow of fire until she could not escape it even by closing her eyes. The flames continued to dance behind her lids, blinding and endless.
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Mercy (Short Story)
FantasyConscience Astin was unaccustomed to staring Justice in the face. She had worked alongside it all her life, sent helpless souls into its unforgiving hands-but she had never faced it as she now did. She had been taught to expect that this day would...
