Part 1.12

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The boy's shoulders are quivering. He points an unsteady finger in Amarat's direction. "I saw her in the wheat fields. Her eyes were closed and some kind of...smoke...was pouring out of her fingertips. All the wheat around her was black."

Arti is standing in front of Amarat. A small crowd of frightened faces has gathered around him. Arti's face is red. "This is ridiculous," he barks. "I refuse to listen to this nonsense!"

A silver-haired woman steps out of the crowd. "The Dark One's children may wear human faces. This creature has deceived you, Arthur."

Arti clasps Amarat's hand. "Let us discuss this...accusation... at the town meeting. Or are we such barbarians as to condemn an innocent girl based on a rumour?"

I'm in a darkened room now. Amarat sleeps on a straw mat on the floor. Her chest rises and falls steadily.

There is movement in the far corner. I catch the glint of a knife. A figure moves toward her, slowly and silently. It holds the blade over her body. I hear a sharp intake of breath. The knife plunges.

"Argh! No!"

A blast of light sends the knife clattering to the floor. The assailant - the same youth who'd accused Amarat earlier - is now bathed in lamplight. Amarat's eyes are glowing.

The youth shrinks back in fear.

"You dare to take my life?" Amarat's voice is deep and terrifying. The silver glow of her eyes is ice-cold. She rises into the air, gown billowing in an absent wind.

"Please...don't hurt me."

The glow in her eyes softens. She descends to the ground, her gown settling around her feet. "What were you trying to do, you fool?" Her face is scrunched up with irritation. "Answer me! What are you looking at?"

The youth's eyes are fixed on the doorway. Arti stands in it, his round frame outlined in lamplight. A look of utter horror is frozen on his face.

"Arti..." Amarat moves toward him.

"Stay back! Boy, run for help - quickly!"

The youth scrambles to his feet.

And then I am Amarat, and I'm being dragged through the village by strangers. I'm pleading with Arti. I could use magic but I don't want to. I want Arti to look at me. I want my beloved Arti to remember that I am his daughter, his Amarat. I want him to say "wait" and make the villagers stop.

But he doesn't.

They take me to the pole in the middle of the village square. They bind my hands and feet with rope. All around me are the faces of my neighbours. Some leer at me, some throw stones, others make signs against the Dark One. The children who I told stories to are there. The old woman who sells me bread is there. The man whose garden I tended, the woman whose baby I'd saved, the girl whose tears I'd once wiped away. They are all here.

Logs of wood are thrown at my feet. The village elder brings a flaming torch. I look for Arti one last time. He's holding his wife Marta tightly. They both look away from me.

I know they are going to kill me. And I want to die. The pain in my heart is excruciating. Sorrow crushes my bones.

I want to be ash. I want to be no more.

I can feel Onyx beyond the crowd, reaching for the flames licking at my feet. I push him away. I am stronger than him. He cannot stop me.

The pain starts. I scream for Arti again. I can see laughing faces through the smoke. I scream for them too.

And then I, too, am the scream.

I am the pain.

I am the sorrow.

I am the anger.

I reach for the villagers with the very fire that has turned me to ash. I laugh as they burn along with me. Oh, for them to feel pain as I do. For them to feel sorrow as I do!

I rise above them all. My rage roars over the earth like a tidal wave, and it feels glorious. The entire village is burning. I see Arti, and he's burning too. The world is ablaze with my fury.

You see, little one? This is how it ended. This is how it will always end.

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