Serpia, a country in the Great Triad
The king—
He sat back in his throne,
Hungry for bone,
"Bring forth the sinner!" he yelled.
A woman was shoved,
Her beauty he loved,
But he disliked the magic she withheld.
A Witch filled with power,
She made his people cower,
Could kill him with one little try.
Not God, she was a freak!
Inhuman, she was weak,
And for that, she was destined to die.
The woman was nailed to a post,
Her tears made him sorry, almost,
"Punish her!" he still commanded,
And 'cross the face she was backhanded.
His men, they beat and shamed her,
Publicly, they all defamed her,
A loud laugh, His Majesty did allow,
Where were her precious powers now?
The villagers enjoyed
Seeing her destroyed,
They pelted her with hot coals and stones.
They cut her by blade,
So much they were afraid,
'til all could see blood, skin and bones.
Bleeding and hurt,
Face caked with dirt,
She looked about ready to die.
But the king found this fun,
She couldn't be done,
"Bring the hot iron for her, aye?"
The townspeople cheered,
A huge path was cleared,
As a long, scalding iron came soon.
YOU ARE READING
The Seeing (Part One)
MaceraMirabel Bromithius never asked to have magic. It was all just kind of thrust upon her at birth. She always knew she was destined for something great, but being the return of a lost magical race was not exactly her first choice. Her powers have never...
