[ WP ] You are one of a few who has the natural ability to see through a common deception . Though it appears obvious to you others can not perceive it .

They gathered around her, a wickedness was present behind their smiles, even they would have been able to see that. *How can they be so blind? * She fruitlessly wrestled at the rope that bound her arms to the post. The full moon hung high in the sky. It looked sickly, a pale glow emanated from it and cast itself over the courtyard, sharing its features with the mad inhabitants surrounding her. Their skin pale, eyes wide with lust and a fire burning in their hands and hearts, the looked like the very fiends they were so afraid of. 
 
 “ Please! ” she called out to her captors again. “ Please, hear me, you ’ re making a mistake! ” 
 
 “ Quiet, witch! ” a voice called from her left. She turned to find its source, finding a holy man, dressed in a brown robe. Not just *a* holy man – *the* holy man. His hands in the other ’ s sleeves, he walked towards her barefoot – he was the very image of a Pious Man, which was where he had gotten his name. *A dangerous man*, she thought. 
 
 “ We ’ ll not have you tainting our souls with your ghoulish *slander*! ” He shifted his eyes left and right. The crowd cheered in response to his claim. They rose their torches high in the air and shouted: 
 
 “ Burn her! Heretic! ” 
 
 The Pious Man brought his hands from their sleeves and rose his arms, immediately quieting the crowd. 
 
 “ You ’ ve been found, erhm ” he cleared his throat, “ guilty of blasphemy and witchcraft. ” 
 
 “ Witch! ” they shouted, “ Burn her! ” 
 
 “ I ’ m no witch! ” she called back to them. “ How can you not see how obvious it is that he ’ s lying! ” 
 
 “ Unh-uh! ” the Pious Man retorted. “ What I say is the truth, you know it, and God knows it. ” He wrung his hands together nervously. 
 
 “ See!? ” she cried incredulously, “ He ’ s totally lying! ” 
 
 The crowd looked at her, then to the Pious Man, then back to her. One man shouted, “ Witch! ” but no one followed suit. 
 
 “ You ’ re all so obvious. ” She said, her hands still bound behind her. “ You, Reynolds. I ’ ve seen the way you look at Esmeralda, I know you have a heart for her. ” 
 
 “ Well I… ” Reynolds said bashfully. 
 
 “ And *you*, Esmeralda, don ’ t be afraid of what your father would think: Reynolds is a fine husband to have. ” 
 
 “ I suppose ye may got the right of it, ” Esmeralda said, she looked at the ground then back up at her. “ I suppose yer damn right. ” She walked over to Reynolds and embraced him. They two of them left with one another, hand in hand. 
 
 She panned her head across the crowd, “ Depape, I know you ’ re afraid of starting anew but it ’ s time. You need to pick up the hammer and start your smithing again. You were *good* at it. Don ’ t be afraid of failing. You won ’ t know if you don ’ t try. ” 
 
 The smith looked at his hands, calloused and full of artful finesse. He eyed her stoically and shut his mouth to an almost imperceivable line. He looked like he was about to cry. “ Ye have it right, Miss Potts. I ’ ve wanted to start again for sometime. ” 
 
 “ So *do* it! ” She commanded. “ Leave the Pious Man ’ s clergy and do what you ’ re meant to do. Create. That is how you honor God. ” 
 
 Depape nodded and turned away, taking quick and long strides towards his home. 
 
 The Pious Man looked at the crowd with contempt, “ How can you not see she is weaving lies with her devil ’ s tongue?! ” He threw his arms his side, “ She is a *witch*! She is a *succubus*. She commands the will of *Satan*! ” He hung his head and scratched his scalp, again shifting his eyes as if something were about to pounce out of the shadows and devour him. 
 
 The mob stirred uneasily, they looked about one another and exchanged a few nervous words. 
 
 “ She seeks to bend you to her will! ” he shouted. “ *Her flesh and bone must be burned! * It ’ s the only way ” He turned his head, and added, “ I think… ” over his shoulder to no one in particular. 
 
 Her eyes blazed with a fury. The fire they sought to envelope her in now raged within her. “ *He is the one who seeks to control you! * ” she shouted, her voice booming in the stone courtyard. The crowd shrank under the power of her conviction. They took a few steps back and looked about one another uneasily. 
 
 “ He seeks to subvert his will over you! He *lies*, he *bends* you to his own power! ” She looked to one in the crowd, “ Emily, you were a wonderful dancer, one of the best in the border kingdoms. ” 
 
 “ I dunno if I ’ m… ” she wrapped her hands behind her back and kicked some dirt. 
 
 “ Nonsense! ” Potts shouted. “ You were wonderful – are wonderful. And now what do you do? Now you are ‘ holy. ’ The Pious Man says you are doing God ’ s work, but is it not best to honor Him with the talent he gave you? Tell me true, will you dance? ” 
 
 She looked upon Potts with conviction, her eyes set with determination. “ Yes, mi lady, I think I could. I know I could. ” 
 
 “ It makes my heart warm knowing what you say tis true. ” She smiled at Emily then continued. “ Brian, you were a wonderful tailor! Bethany, you have made me the best sweet rolls I ’ ve had the pleasure of eating. And you, Clay, what happened to those wonderful paintings you did? Why have you all given up your passion? *Who* forced you to give up? ” 
 
 “ He did. ” They said quietly at first, then as if hearing themselves say it gave it more conviction they shouted, “ *He did*! ” 
 
 “ The Pious Man has used his silver tongue. ” She said calmly. “ He works for He Who Shall Not Be Named. He ’ s pulled the wool over your eyes! ” 
 
 The Pious Man shifted uneasily, arms out as if to balance himself. “ What? ” he said, his voice cracked, bearing the resemblance of an adolescent. “ That ’ s not true! ” He tugged at his shirt collar with his index finger, as if it was on a little too tight. 
 
 “ *Look how he perspires*! ” Potts proclaimed. “ Look how nervous he is! He knows it be true. He stammers, he stutters, he *LIES*! ” 
 
 “ *Lier*! ” the crowd shouted. “ *Servant*! ” They cried. 
 
 “ *Witch*! ” one man exclaimed, “ *WITCH*! ” they all joined in unison. “ *Witch*! ” the mass of people moved towards him, their torches and hearts still burning with a sinister desire. 
 
 The Pious Man backed away, his hands rose up in front of him protectively. “ No… it ’ s not true. ” He said defensively. “ *She ’ s* the witch, not me! ” 
 
 They ignored his plea and continued to chant 
 
 ( Witch! ) 
 
 as they walked towards him. Their torches bounced up and down with every cry of conviction. Two members roughly grabbed him and dragged him over to the wood pile they had prepared for her. The man named Brian walked up the pile, and leaned over her side and untied her bindings. 
 
 “ Terribly sorry, mi lady. ” His eyes did not shift, nor did he cast his gaze elsewhere. 
 
 “ It ’ s quite alright, Brian. Let us be rid of this Devil. ” 
 
 “ Witch! Witch! ” the crowd continued to chant. 
 
 They marched him up the pile as she was lead down. He looked up at her with fear in his eyes, they were wide with terrified anticipation. There was a dark spot on his robes, revealing to her that he had soiled himself. He was tied in the same rope that had bound her, arms set behind him, feet tied to post that would mark his death. 
 
 A man was about to drop his torch into the fuel when another villager grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him. They both looked to her. 
 
 “ Any final words? ” she called to the blubbering fool on the wood pile. 
 
 His sobs echoed in the courtyard, pathetic and weak. He sounded like a dying animal, hoping the predator would spare his life if he looked weak enough. The man at the stake sucked in a few pathetic whimpers and did his best to keep his lip from quivering. 
 
 “ I don ’ t want to die! ” he cried, and threw his head up to the night sky. Finally, for the first time since she had met him, the Pious Man did not lie to her. A grin swept across her face. 
 
 “ Burn him. ” 
 
 The mob cheered and threw their torches. The night sky rained with a fire, flames flew above greedy onlookers and landed at the Pious Man ’ s feet. Flames began to grow, the heat licked up at his legs. He danced above them, feebly adding seconds to his life, only to have his pious, soiled robes catch fire. It lit up like a festival firework. His body was engulfed in flames; shrill screams came from the immolated man as he twisted beneath the bindings that held him in the fire. 
 
 “ *Pleeeassee*! ” he cried at first, “ *Please! Pleaaaaaa…* ” his voice trailed off into a grotesque squeak. 
 
 The crowd cheered in response. Potts crossed her arms and looked upon the crowd with avid fascination – the fire reflected itself in their eyes as they screamed, “ Burn! Burn him! Burn the bastard! ” Their fists rising in the air, their teeth grinning in the red glow of the fire, their hearts beating with the thrill of murder. 
 
 –avid fascination and fear.
