Pagan Blog Project: S is for Story

Setjataset

The Beginning and The End

She looked at her hands – flesh blistering and bleeding.  The raw pain she felt made her eyes sting, causing salty tears to streak down her face.  A muffled whimpering was echoing off the walls of her deep cell.  She soon realised it was coming from her.

“I will never confess.” She half whispered to herself, as she gathered the strength to steadily pick herself up.

She shuffled across the filthy floor, jingling the chains which bound her feet.  A foreboding feeling came over her, as she made her way to the barred window which overlooked the town square.  Shafts of light touch touched her vacuous face as she viewed the spectacle unfolding before her.  The townspeople gathered in the square.  Peddlers set up stalls selling sweet bread and ale, while others set up viewing stands in front of the pyre.

She raised her hand…

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