The first thing Uriel heard was the sound of people screaming and chanting words he couldn't comprehend.
He slowly lifted his head, eyes flickering, trying to get a sense of what was happening. The corners of his vision were blurry, but he could slightly see red silhouettes surrounding him. The confused boy tried to move his body, but it wouldn't budge, the same for his his arms and legs.
He looked down and noticed a huge rope had tightly wrapped all around his body, with a smaller hawser tying both of his legs. Then he felt a subtle, rhythmic rise and fall of his own chest.
"Am....I moving?" just opening his mouth, he felt a sharp pain stabbing at the back of his head, making Uriel hiss.
"You're awake, witch!" He suddenly heard an old man's voice coming from in front of him. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust his eyesight. Gradually, Uriel's perception returned to normal, and now he could finally see what was going on.
In front of him, a human line was formed all across the dark grassy field. All of them were holding medium-sized torches, with some raising them and screaming at the top of their lungs. The ones screaming all said the exact same thing.
"BURN THE WITCH, BURN THE WITCH!!!" they shouted as the moon above them illuminated the line of fire.
Uriel still hadn't grasped the situation he was currently in. He looked around him to find nothing but empty field; his breath caught.
"What....WHAT'S HAPPENING!?" The old man in front of him let out a loud tsk. "Better keep your mouth shut, witch, or I'll rip that cursed lips of yours!"
Uriel was about to argue back, but a cold gust swept over him. His teeth chattered as the wind caught his blonde hair, sweeping it across his face.
He looked down only to realize that he was bare naked, with only a scratched-up ragged pant that didn't help cover his lower part from the cold air.
That's when he noticed he wasn't lying flat. Instead, he was raised up. Something hard and wooden pressed against his back, strapped tightly to his torso, holding him upright. He was lifted a full head above the old man. The crowd's torches flickered at chest level.
Uriel also felt his whole body leaning against something, but he couldn't tell what it was due to the position he was currently in. He tried to recall his memory, but the sharp pain kept returning every time he tried to think.
He looked at the old man with a weak expression, but the man showed no sympathy to the tied-up blondie. "Why....am I here? Where are you all taking me?" Uriel pleaded for answers, yet the elder gave him a sour look before reverting his gaze.
After a long time being strapped against his will, they finally stopped moving, and everyone proceeded to walk behind Uriel except the blondie himself.
Then he felt the entire wooden structure he was strapped to lurch upward. Someone had grabbed the board beneath him. He was being carried now, tilted at an awkward angle, his bound body swaying with every step his captors took.
They placed the wooden structure by burying it deep in the muddy ground. Uriel finally saw what was happening. Hundreds of people had formed a wide circle; they were still cursing at Uriel, calling him a witch and all sorts of stigma.
There were two things in front of Uriel that he noticed.
The first was an odd-looking well in the center. Its edges were crooked, dark green moss clinging to the cobblestone. It was barely ten inches wide, just enough for one person.
Uriel's eyes shifted from the well and onto the second thing. This one was further away from him but still aligned with the blondie and the small well.
It was a girl. She was tied up like him, wearing only two small white sheets, one barely covering her chest, the other her lower half. Uriel couldn't see the girl's face since she was looking down, her long dark hair covering her whole face, but he could tell she was exhausted by how her chest was rising up and down violently.
But that wasn't what caught Uriel's attention. It was the giant wooden cross that she was currently tied up in. Uriel couldn't fathom the comparison of the size of the girl and the wooden cross.
"Does that mean I'm currently being strapped into this giant cross....but why?" Uriel's question would soon be answered when a man emerged from the crowd, and the chanting faltered into whispers.
He was wearing a long, dark wool coat that fell past his knees, unbuttoned to reveal a simple black waistcoat over a linen shirt. A stark white collar sat tight around his neck. His boots were mud-caked but well-made, and in his gloved hand, he held a leather-bound book.
He walked slowly until he stood between the well and the two bound prisoners. Then he turned to face the crowd. And when he spoke, his voice was calm and ominous. Almost gentle even.
"Everyone....please quiet down as we move on to the two young witch trials...." That sentence was enough to turn the whole crowd silent. Now the only things that could be heard were the sound of the fire crackling and the strong breeze brushing through the air.
The elegant man cleared his throat and opened his leather-bound book. He looked to the crowd and spoke:
"People of Kastanga! I hereby welcome you all to these two youngsters' trials!" He gestured over his shoulder toward Uriel and the girl. Uriel watched in horror as the people roared together in ecstasy as if this were entertainment for them.
The man continued, his eyes looking at the inside of the book. "Before us stand two who have strayed beyond the bounds of law, beyond mercy, beyond the grace this world once offered them." He closed the book and turned to face the two hostages.
His eyes squinted a bit when he saw Uriel's desperate expression. He turned his head to look at the weak girl as he extended his hand. "Deian. The daughter of a deceased tailorman, who herself watched a murder happen. Her own eyes, her own breath, her own two feet standing on the very ground where blood was spilled. And when she was asked, or even begged to name the killer..."
He paused. The crowd waited impatiently before he finally continued.
"...Nothing. Not a word. Not even a whisper. Not a single damned sound!"
His voice dropped, calm and venomous.
"Some of you may pity her due to her father's absence. But a year has passed. A full year. And still, her lips remain sealed. Silence, in the face of murder, is not innocence. It is a second crime. And for that, Deian stands here today."
He retreated his hand and proceeded to turn his head to stare directly at Uriel. The blondie's golden eyes clashed against the man's. He extended his hand again, but this time toward Uriel.
"And this one. Uriel. Son of a famous author, a woman whose words once graced every respectable home in Kastanga. A mother now dead. Not by illness. Not by accident."
Uriel's eyes shot up. A flood of memories started to fill his head, making him remember everything again. The sharp lingering pain disappeared, replaced by the lost memory.
The elegant man stepped closer, lowering his voice so the crowd had to lean in. "His own mother. The woman who birthed him. Who fed him. Who prayed over his cradle at night. He killed her. With his own two hands!!!" He screamed while glaring at Uriel.
Uriel remembered now. He closed his eyes, recalling what had happened.
He remembered a woman screaming while he lay on the wooden floor. Uriel remembered the soreness in his neck at that time. He tried to reach out to the woman, but a dark male figure emerged from the corner of his vision. He couldn't tell who it was, but the figure raised his shadowy hand and struck the woman's head. Her head dropped onto the floor with a huge thud.
Even though the top of her head was spilling blood, she forced her body to turn toward Uriel. The woman smiled warmly at him, then she opened her mouth, but Uriel couldn't hear what she said. He tried to reach his hand to her, but in the last moment before he touched her skin, he blacked out.
The blondie's eyes shot open. He looked toward the elegant man and screamed back, "IT'S NOT ME! I WASN'T THE ONE WHO KILLED MY MOTHER!" From a distance, the man raised a finger to his lips, silently telling Uriel to be quiet.
"SHUT UP, WITCH!" a guy in the crowd roared at Uriel.
"YEAH, LET'S BANISH THEM ALREADY!" a woman soon followed.
The man took a quick glance at Uriel and sighed. He opened his book and read the words from it. "The violation of Kastanga code calls for banishment....to God's Grave."
He closed the book and raised his voice to the crowd.
"I ask you now, people of Kastanga. Do you agree to this judgment? Shall these two be banished from our lands, never to return?"
The crowd erupted.
"YES! BANISH THE WITCHES!"
"BURN THEM OUT!"
"TO GOD'S GRAVE WITH THEM!"
The man sighed heavily and turned toward the two "witches" again. "The public has spoken. Witch Uriel and witch Deian will be banished to a world where the gods once ruled over."
He made a hand gesture toward the men behind Deian's cross. They understood the signal and lifted up her big cross with the help of many men. They tilted her toward the small well, where her long hair touched the wall of the well.
A man with a pair of scissors cut the rope tying her body, both her arms, and lastly her legs. Up until now, Uriel hadn't heard her speak a single word. They tilted her cross, and she fell gracefully inside the small well.
The crowd roared happily. Uriel watched as they sang, danced, and laughed while throwing a literal human inside a well. He gritted his teeth.
"YOU'RE ALL LUNATICS! LAUGHING WHILE THROWING A PERSON INTO A WELL—YOU'RE ALL SICK!!!" The man furrowed his eyebrows and gestured to the bunch of muscular men behind Uriel's cross.
They carried Uriel's cross despite his complaints. He reached the ominous-looking well, and the muscular guys tilted his cross. Uriel saw the dark, empty abyss inside the well. There was no sound inside it, making him even more nervous.
They did the same procedure they had done with Deian, but before the guy could cut the rope on his leg, the elegant man stopped him. He walked slowly toward Uriel and brushed his blonde hair.
"Oh, Uriel....I'll definitely miss you, my son." Before Uriel could scream, his dad cut the rope tying his leg, and thus began Uriel's descent into the well of God's Grave.
---
Uriel didn't know how long it had been. He had fallen for a while. Everything around him was pitch black. There was no sound, not even a brush of wind.
But that wasn't what was on Uriel's mind. It was the fact that his dad had accused him of murder.
"Damn it....how did I wind up in this mess..." Just as he complained, he suddenly heard a girl whisper in the back of his ear.
Since there was no light, he couldn't see his surroundings.
"WHO'S THAT?" The voice spoke back, but this time with a chime.
{ Ah, another banished witcher! }