Eye Executioner Raven Child Witch Judge
The following record of experiences - by a conjurer in the north of Scotland - written down by the scribe Claudius, the elder, in the year 1277 of the lord gives insight into the heathen practices by the remainders of the Gaelic people that managed to keep their original ways alive in these lands, despite all the efforts of our noble king Richard the IV and his predecessors. The conjurer was caught in a raid on the centers of heathen resistance and only under heavy losses could be gotten hold of. Many knights died that night cutting out their own eyes, which sparked a rigorous investigation under the guidance of the Bishop from Edinburgh, which unveiled many fiendish magical practices. The records here are the experiences the conjurer underwent during one of his seances, which he used to do for entertainment purposes as far as we can tell. Entertainment or not they provide the first evidence of an alternate human dimension. Technically speaking he uses a rotating cube in this instance to jump between nexuses of consciousness. The jumps are allowed upon eyesight:
The executioner sat in the backyard of his home. At his side his son: "Daaad what are all these symbols on the sword for?"
"They stand for every soul the sword has ever taken."
"Woow no way! How many would that be?"
"1368 to be precise son. Soon there will be another one." simultaneously sharpening the sword to perfection. The sound of metal on metal giving of a regular rhythm of a chilling sound to most. Yet for him, this was home. With shy and trembling voice the boy continued:"Why do you have to kill people daddy?" And in short succession as he opened up "At school they say you are a ruthless murderer and also that you would do anything for money!"
"Now I am glad son that you come to me with this." Slowly putting down sword and grinding stone."Come sit on my lap" and the boy did as he was told and the executioner ruffled playfully his hair. "Now listen up son. In every group of people there are some things people generally dislike to do. You see how nobody likes to work down in the Tanner's quarters; yet people need clothing don't they? Our family has done this job for generations and we take pride in it. I take pride in it. No matter what others say. People are in the business of turning a blind eye to what they do not dare to accept." With ease he puts his son down in front of him and asked:" In society every truth can be turned into an honest occupation. So son, what do you think is our truth?"
"Well I don't know, why are you always so serious daddy?" No answer was provided, only the heavy look of his father. The eyes of the child moving back and forth as if heavily pondering at last answering "Maybe, it is that people don't like to kill people?"
"Not bad". The executioner gave his son a heavy pat on the back "surely that is part of the truth. And I never enjoyed it myself. If it ever happens to you, you need to immediately stop doing it, I tell you. The other part of the truth is, that we live together with people and that living together is organized by rules. Some people fail to obey these rules, for whatever reason that is. Sometimes they don't suit them. Sometimes they think they know better. In the end society must deal with these people in some way or form. The cleanest is to remove them from life."
"B-b-but, but can't we put them just somewhere else, are there other societies daddy? Maybe they can live there no?"
"You really are a clever one. Maybe your Mother is right and executioner is not what you are cut out to be ha? Well if there was a reliable way to do just that, then yes we could, but the people could just come back and we would be indebted and depended on another countries grace. And if you look at it differently boy, we put them in another country, who knows what comes after life? I hope they have a great future in the afterlife. Now that's quite enough, hush go to Mummy and let me get on with the final rites."
"Oh no I want to see what you are doing now in the final rites, when will I be allowed to see them?"
The executioner crossed his arms answering sternly: "Once you are old enough and now go, end of discussion." On the stone wall surrounding the house - 6 feet high - was a raven sitting from time to time subtly picking as if he was paying no notice.
The raven took to the sky soaring high in the winds. Having a keen eye on what was happening on the ground. He knew the ritual pretty well by now. Today would be a good day. Alewitch enjoyed the interplay of wings, feather and the wind. It got his mind in a pensive-contemplative state. Mind and eyes clear, taking in the excited, packed and stacked crowd gathering on the market place. Already he smelled burned flesh from various food stalls, yet that was not the flesh he came for. In the center - a wooden stage - for what was to come. There was some ruckus Alewitch noticed in the crowd where he spotted a child being pulled by a woman paving their way through the crowd. The people around them shouting.
The child caught in its own thoughts: Why am I being here, everyone smells so bad. Aunt why are you pulling me through here. My wrist hurts from the strong grip. "We are too late stupid little brat" I hear.
Tears start to fill my eyes. I feel another pull on my wrist. Through tears I see a pile of horse shit and barely dodge it with my bare feet.
In search for help the child looks inquiringly to the sky.
The raven saw in a distant alleyway a procession of black guards in uniforms encompassing a number of humans with very different looks. One had a huge sword on his back, the other looked tortured and in shambles, another had grey hair with big curls, which the raven found particularly funny every time he saw them. Sometimes he suspected that it wasn't his actual hair, given how strange and unique it was among humans.
Again this unpleasant business. Reading the verdict was about the least favorite part of his profession. Why would people give so much attention to vermin like that? The blood and cruelty most likely. Curiosity he could understand, but most of them would come again and again. He heard their childish Schadenfreude and glee clearly from their chants and laughter. Always sounding the same to him. They didn't understand a thing of who we are and yet these people built the majority. How can we succeed like this? Hush Hush away with these thoughts, no time for that yet. Later in the evening he would sit at his desk in candle light and continue working on his treatise on how to educate the masses, but for now he recalled the speech he had compiled yesterday evening. The case was quite clear. Poisoning, sex, envy the usual. The crowd would love it even more. At least today there was nothing to fear from them. He was looking back and saw her in ragged clothes. The wretched woman. The torturers had done a remarkable job. One could see the pain inscribed on her face.
He was looking at her.
The whole body in pain. The high pitched bang of the whip still fresh in her mind. Hands in shackles. Pushed by guards. Seeking solace in the end. She was meeting his gaze. Her looks softened. She understood. Melancholy filled her. The sadness of it all. All playing their allotted roles, even she herself involuntarily. Some physical, others mentally. Our vices holding us in our places. Above all she could make peace. She could turn the other cheek. She had lived a full live. Something she couldn't imagine the judge to have had. That was part of the sadness - Not enough love. So her thoughts went in circles only to return to the little daughter she would leave behind - the fix star in her cosmos. Walking at her side, she sees the executioner. A calm atmosphere surrounds him; he seemed to be extremely content with who he was. Only being cautious of his surroundings, he seemed to prefer the quiet.
As she was observing him, he caught her look, giving her the inkling of a smile.
Interesting eyes that lass. He wondered what life she had had up to this point. He had expunged a number of different members of society - mostly men - alas from time to time there was a woman like salt sprinkled on top of a meal. A favourite with the crowd for sure. Now this was the one part of his job he despised. Having to be part of this show for the masses - like a huge tick at the groin. The attention of the whole town on his back. Hopefully my son doesn't have to suffer more of that nonsense at school, or he should have a word with the authorities. Always after the executions there would be more trouble for him and his family. People will always be people in the end. Besides, he would have to listen to the verdict of the judge. The fucking worst. More show. In the end, he could endure it. It was part of the deal. It is just, if we need the entertainment of killing people then what does this tell about ourselves? Besides it muddled his own job. He did it for the working of society and not to entertain the masses.
While wandering through the crowd with the guards paving the way he heard some commotion in the distance and got a fleeting glimpse in the midst, to his surprise there was a child.
My beautiful dress. It is all full of shit. Oh now, if only Mummy could see her like that.
She heard aunt Shirley talking: "Stop crying now you are worse than your mother when she was your age. We just have to wade through the masses a little while longer."/
Around them angry shouts "You should have come earlier stupid bitch." Rough pushing and pulling all around. At last exhausted with her legs and arm hurting from the crowd and the roughness of her aunt. "What are we doing here anyway auntie, tell me." she uttered mumbling through her sobs. "It is for you to learn. You are young; you can still learn. Now take heed and be quiet." Although she barely sees a thing among all the grown ups she notices on the platform grey and curly hair like she has never seen before. His face comes into view framed with golden glasses. His skin of pale complexion and wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth.
He stood ahead and could oversee the masses. The speech he had written the day before lay in front of him. He would see how it went. Just to make sure he took a quick turn and whispered into the ears of the closest guard: "Be sure she shuts her mouth here." The situation was tense. The case needed to be presented cleanly but it was all but that. Giving his speech would be oil for the machine. A little hit on the gearbox that had been stuck. What he represented and fought for was not the individuals bickering for the bread crumbs, but for the greater picture. The judge looked ahead and skimmed the crowd slowly raising his voice: "Dear people, for those of you who do not know me yet and have come maybe from far away, from the fringes, from the furthest distance, wherest our reach meets its end - welcome. I am judge Goreland and representing here today the justice system and deeply appreciate the interest you take." As the judge finished his speech, an angry voice yelled from the crowd: "Get on with it, kill the witch." He quickly considered how these people were fueling the empire but really had no idea of its workings. As it may be most parts don't need to know their function. Really it is a blessing. He chose to ignore them and continued: "The individual is not important. What we can see here in the open today is part of the regulatory mechanism of the society that we together comprise. We are all parts of a greater system. We humans have boundless adaptability and our fore-bearers found a divine structure of civil organization that serves as skeleton for us to put our human essence to use for the greater good." Behind him the judge could hear the rattling of chains and then he heard Sunshine Brooker revolt: "Stop this …"; after that only mumbling of " … shit"; then as he looked around he saw a steel glad fist hit her stomach, which sent her down on her knees and unconscious afterwards. Truly he thought to himself, only the sword can solve this problem. " Unfortunately not all of us possess the ability to evolve from a young child full of potential to a functioning member of our society. Like the bells ringing through our cities every full hour at the behest of the clockwork informing it of its duty. I stand hear to inform you of the workings of the Department of Justice. The Department is like an iron broom sweeping out those who can not abide the rules or even worse try to make their own." He gestured for the guards to bring up Sunshine Brooker. "Here we have the case of a defiant woman who spent her years inciting good and dutiful women against their husbands, advising them on child murder and as was always suspected dark magic, which has lead to the downfall of many righteous citizens. Of what she calls helping we call leading astray. In plenty she has done this to men as well. Indeed her desire for men knows no limits. As such she is guilty of the erosion of the system as we know it. Yet we were forgiving and have only excluded her from society - banished to the forests, but she could not let things rest and at last." Here he made a brief pause, the crowd was attentive and quiet now, "Resorted to killing the husband of one of our dutiful members"
Again the judge resorted to a stylistic pause. Now there were excited shouts from the masses; only drowned by the general booing of the people. At last it worked. He was speaking their language. "Our detectives worked the case with utmost scrutiny and slowly unearthed our suspects heinous deed. From the beginning it was quite obvious that Mortimer Shreiwood - the husband in question - died from poison, which made the killing by a woman very likely from the very start. Naturally things weren't so clear from the beginning of the investigation, as she is among many other things cunning, a reason for all the more carefulness and why at last we resorted to the severity of the punishment. If the department of justice didn't act as carefully as it did - it would be entirely possible that the wrong person would be accused here today! Indeed those were her original intentions. Killing two birds with one stone. Taking revenge on both her lover and his wife. Alas at last she met her master. Now she shall meet her maker!" He calmed himself, taking a deep breath. The crowd was getting riled up now. A little more he thought. Then it is time to let things play out. "At first the wife of the victim - Adelheid was the primary suspect. In the night she called in that her husband had died. Being a complete wreckage at the scene, she told us that it looked like a mushroom poisoning, which later on turned out to be correct. She told us also that her sister had been at her house having had dinner together, which was also later confirmed by the neighbours. The investigators went then promptly to her house finding Sunshine Brooker sleeping soundly. Indeed they found the mushrooms, that were also found in the stomach of the deceased and most compellingly we found her journal in which we found evidence of their affair as well as the audacity to speak of her planned murder." Now there were angry shouts reaching his ears from all sides. Rags and clothes flying being thrown into the air and pitch forks raised. He took a sep back, gesturing the executioner to take the stage. "And with this I hand the stage over to the executioner." His eyes wandering to the stately figure of the executioner finally resting on Sunshine Brooker.
The pain in her stomach was slowly subsiding making place for a soft unconsciousness. She was thankful for the guard, she made the speech of the judge acceptable. How treacherous her sister had been. How much hate she must have harbored for her. Only it was in vain. Gentle arms picking her up, softly laying her down and with timbre voice whispering in her ear: "What comes next is easy, worry not, we may see each other in another time and space." Maybe, maybe so, she thought. At last it was better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven. She felt a subtle rotation and a weightlessness in her head. Pain in her body vanishing falling with a thud, pain in her head in surprise opening her eyes.
From above the child only saw the arms and heads of the people around her and the sun that was hurting the child's eyes. Among all the shouts and trouble she saw perplexed a head falling down in front of her. Opening her eyes. She thought shocked "Mother?"; tears gathering in her eyes.