Diversity Is Coming

Home > Fiction > Diversity Is Coming > Page 4
Diversity Is Coming Page 4

by Nicolas Wilson


  ***

  Elonia dreamed of the sea, diving under the cold, powerful waves. Riding the currents to where they bid her go. They had saved her once, and that dream meant they would save her again.

  She opened her eyes to a hushed crowd. The square overflowed with people. Villagers she had seen the day before gathered together in one area, while polished guards were positioned equally throughout the area and along the alley edges. Intermixed, the sailors stood, their leather aprons and boots worn and dark, eyes focused beside her.

  Twisting to the side, she saw a man dressed in polished silver, red trimmed breastplate, and copper sword, and gasped. General Leon looked the same as he had thirty years ago, with the exception of hardened lines around his eyes, and silver at his temples.

  “Ah, she awakens, and just in time to hear the verdict,” General Leon announced.

  “Verdict?” she asked, shuffling to a standing position. “I just awoke; how could the trial be over already.”

  “Being unprepared or conscious is not of my concern. My concern is for the people. You have been tried and convicted for murdering a child. Do you disagree?”

  Everyone stared at her as she fumbled for words. “I-I do not agree sir. There was no murder, only mercy. The Mar—”

  “No need to continue, my son has briefed me on your story. A fairytale curse, no more. No, this act of treachery belongs to you, and you alone. Men, take her!”

  “No! You must understand,” she wailed, kicking her feet into the ground as men pulled her away from the pole to the scaffolds.

  “I do understand. More than you may think. Tell me, witch, Do you remember when I took your family all those years ago?”

  “What?” she whispered, paling as he drew closer.

  “Oh yes, I remember you. When I tied the rest of your tribe up, you stood out like a flame. Your red hair against your charcoal skin, an odd combination for one of your kind. I watched as you slid out from under the restraints. The anguish in your face as you pulled against the knots holding your mother and sister. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the burning flesh, taste the salty tears, and hear your sobbing cries. I tried then to save you as my trophy, but you slipped my grasp. Today you will not escape.”

  “I—I don’t know what to—you monster,” she yelled lunging toward him. The chains held her out of reach.

  General Leon reached forward and patted her on the cheek. “You, your kind, are the way of the past. Even saved as a trophy or freak, it’s no longer worth the effort. Hang her,” he ordered, waving his hands for his men to carry her off.

  “When was being different a crime?” she yelled. “My people are not criminals. Our ways have brought us strength. See how this village deteriorated after the massacre. Just wait to see what happens after today.”

  “The witch curses us again,” General Leonard yelled from the crowd. “Kill her.”

  A swarm of chants rose up from the crowd. “Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!”

  “Ah, you see, it is not only my judgment here. The whole town, no, the whole world wants your people gone. Who am I to disagree with the public’s demands?”

  Elonia closed her eyes. Rough hands grabbed her, twisting around her neck and shoulder pressing her forward. The wooden planks bent under their weight. Splinters dug into her bare feet. And then she felt it, the quick release as they removed her shackles to attach her to the metal device attached to the noose.

  Now was her time. Elonia spun and slapped her attacker.

  “Beetum Bitu Gherlu,” she swore.

  The men flew back off the stage with a blast of fiery energy, knocking over the eager crowd. She turned away from the screaming crowd back toward the gallows. Sparks flew from her fingertips, lighting the tangled noose on fire. The attached iron shackles dropped to the stone floor in a resounding heap.

  She walked to the back edge of the platform where the stunned generals and their men cowered.

  “Do you still think I’m no longer worth the effort, General?” she asked, turning to the older man.

  “Please, show me mercy,” he begged, lowering his head to the ground, hiding himself from the spray of sparks and fire falling from her fingertips.

  “Show you mercy that you never showed me, or my family? I watched them burn at your hand.”

  “I let you go free,” he cried.

  “Is that what you think you gave me? Freedom? Then let me give you the same.”

  Sparks flickered at the edge of her fingers, and then she saw his son hiding in the shadows, creeping down from the stage into the mob of fleeing villagers. She ripped off the silver charm she had dipped into General Leonard’s spit and threw it to the ground, crushing it under her weight until it snapped in half.

  If he was determined to blame the girl’s death from the Marblooms on her, how would he feel when the curse summoned them to this village? Even if they didn’t believe in the evil Fae, it didn’t mean they weren’t real. She would show him. Never underestimate magic, especially from a vexed witch. Elonia laughed, and tossed her head back, opening her arms wide to the heavens.

  “Freedlin grumin heedup ko, Marbloom cooomth un tyo!” she yelled.

  A wind howled through town, dark clouds darkening the sky. Lightning burst through the clouds striking the ground, leaving craters at impact. Fire spread quickly through the square, devouring the remnants of the buildings, chasing the few remaining villagers out of their hiding spots.

  She strode out of the village, through the dusty alleyways, to the rotten boardwalk beside the sea. It was time for her to begin again. She twisted a small vial filled with blue powder off her bracelet and tapped the flakes into her mouth.

  “Mermia selcta saval etcha. You provided me freedom once. I ask for it once more,” she begged of the summoning potion. “Bring me your emissary to take me farther, to a new island, where mainlanders fear to roam, where people don’t condemn what they don’t understand. Ezerm beet ghru, take me,” she said, walking into the frothy waves.

  Icy water pulled her under, the grip of the current tightening around her ankles. She took a deep breath and rode with the current.

 

‹ Prev