Entry 12

I didn't stay for the execution.

Not that the townsfolk would have let me, of course; the people of Tresin saw us as part of the problem. Despite the fact that I had been back in the village barely a day, I already found myself staring out over the ancient oaks at the bright glow of the pyre. Her screams rang out in the night before quickly fading away; but in my mind, the sound of my mother burning at the stake never left. I still hear her sometimes. Silent evenings like this tend to draw those painful howls out, forcing them from their hiding places amongst all the other blood-soaked memories.

The next morning, I walked back slower than I intended. Not many find pleasure in gazing upon the charred corpse of one who raised them; not many whom I had the misfortune of meeting, at least. Upon arriving in Tresin, my mother's body had mysteriously vanished. I suffered through enough unpleasant conversations to discover that following their joyful immolation of another human being, they took the celebration to even greater heights by tossing her like dead weight over the easternmost wall. 

Hours later - whether it be one, two, or five - the empty husk once belonging to my mother lay wrapped up and leaning against a tree back at camp. James refused to witness the gruesome act as well, choosing instead to gather the remainder of her belongings from the cellar. When he returned, another unknown amount of time passed while we both prepared a proper burial for the woman who raised me. We rarely spoke throughout the process; too much was going on for me to really bother with conversation, and our shared silence proved that he must have felt the same, too.

As she lay deep within the soil, marked by a nearby stone shaped like a fist, James finally broke through the awkward tension permeating the air.

"Does it feel any different - losing her for a second time?"

An interesting question coming from him, but one I had already asked myself thousands of times at that point.

"I didn't think it would. But watching her accept the end, seeing her give up - that was so much worse."

Stepping away from the filled grave, I turned back towards camp and began to pack up what little was worth keeping. I left James in that clearing; resting against a tree, staring at a grave.