Jeriah's Vision

The sweltering heat of the sun beat down on Jeriah's head. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her cheeks, leaving trails of pale skin through the caked dirt. She pulled on the ropes that bound her wrists behind her back futilely. Her strength had waned hours ago. She leaned her head against the tall, thick wooden stake and closed her eyes. The sun's heated rays came through her eyelids. She ran a thick, swollen tongue across her dry, cracked lips, hoping to relieve some of the pain in them, but her mouth's wetness had been scorched dry by the golden orb above her.

She put her head down. A witch. A sorceress. Evil. They had yelled those words at her like whips striking flesh. A mantra to them to justify their fear and hatred. The mob of familiar people had taken hold of her then and brought her here to the Place of Cleansing. If she survived the ordeal she would be allowed back, cleansed by the gods. If not, then her soul would be confined to hell.

Did they really have the right to be the judges of her soul? What made her evil? Her powers? Why? Why would having such powers be an evil worthy of death?

She wanted to take everything she had done back. She knew how the people of the town would react to her powers. She had kept them hidden for so long because of that fear. She had taken a chance. She had saved two young lives and still they had reacted as she had feared. It hurt. She saw Rickan. His eyes, once so full of love and caring; they had seared her with hatred as he had turned against her. Her heart ached. She would have cried had she had the tears to do so. Instead a hoarse moan escaped her.

They have no right! She wanted to scream. She wanted to set herself free. But then she would lose her whole world. She would have to leave the only place she had ever known and the people that she had grown up around. What did it matter if she died? Maybe that was the solution.

She lifted her head slightly and opened her eyes and figured she was close to death. The most beautiful animal stood before her. Had it come to take her soul? Was it bound for heaven? Or hell? She found she didn't care as long as she could be with it. She wanted it to come closer. Its white main glistened like snow and its hooves were opalene. It just stood there, watching her, its large black eyes regarding her. It seemed to be waiting. For what?

Come here, she cried silently. She knew that if it came closer to her she would be happy, but it just stood there.

The creature shook its white head and its mane rippled. Come to me, the creature seemed to be saying. Free yourself.

But I will lose so much, she wailed.

You will lose nothing but those who have turned against you.

And then Jeriah knew the truth. She wasn't meant to die. She wasn't going to let the people who should have cared about her have her life. They had betrayed her. Why should she want to go back to them?

The creature shook its head once. Come.

Yes. She focused the heat around her against the bonds that held her and they snapped. She had little strength left and so she crawled to the creature. It knelt down for her and she pulled her self onto its back. She was a dark blemish against its white coat but it didn't seem to care. She put her head on its neck and lay there as it turned to take her to where witches go.