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Pride Stained Scarlet

So, now you come to our story and all of its characters. In a year many

centuries past, yet a time not long forgotten. We play a scene that has repeated

itself

countless times through history. Be aware, nothing here is ever as it seems.

“And still wilt thou stand in defiance of these venerable justices?” The bailiff’s

question hung in the air like a malignant cloud. He turned back to the prisoner as he

took a careful step around the shattered remains of the pillory. The bailiff continued

until he stood directly above the bowed head of the accused. “O, prideful one?”

At this the inclined head snapped up, casting it’s harsh gaze across the room.

The eyes swept back to the bailiff, wreathed now in ethereal flame. Many would

later claim to have heard him laugh at his sentencing, and now he did so to spite

them.

“I will neither repent nor would I recant my actions. This is my Pride, and

these venerable justices will ne’er capture it ere Judgment Day!”

The bailiff himself took a step back, as though he had been struck. He

glanced

slowly down at the broken shards of wood around him. Growling slightly, he

motioned to the two strongmen who held the prisoner firm to the base of the pillory.

They immediately tightened their grip on the man’s shoulders, stretching his arms

out behind him.

“Still!” The bailiff growled, regaining some of his lost confidence. This

being the accused’s first offense, his behavior was unprecedented. “Regardless,

thy punishment shall be proclaimed, lest thou escape us unscathed by the

meeting!”

Now an elder judge spoke, being one of great revere, he rose from his seat.

And, thinking his words wiser than all others presented, he spoke with an airy

confidence. “If… this court cannot take your pride-“

Again the fiery prisoner broke in, his voice sounding as the crack of a whip.

“Never this side of death!”

Some witnesses recall seeing him lurch back and forth with such force that

the entire scaffold shook on its foundations. Yet, others say the bailiff lost his

steady balance and was sent tumbling into the dirt with the remains of the stocks.

Casting his prisoner a reproachful glance, the justice continued. “Then, we

shall grant it price! And may that price be great in it’s rage!”

A resounding silence overtook the court as some in the crowd murmured

their approval.

“Honored and learned gentleman, ” A second, younger judge stood from

amongst the many. With a small nod to the elder, he stepped down from his podium

and approached the scaffold.

“For said punishment, only one path is known, lest our crime be greater than

his own!” He paused, as if to ponder his words. At last he stopped at the base of

the stairs, and turned to face the crowd. With the ebony robes of his office still

swaying about his frame, he continued. “Gentleman, on the night of October the 4th

of this recent year, this man was charged with treasonous dialogue and general

disrespect! He assaulted the person of one of our very own, His Eminence,

Governor Belial Reficule!”

His monologue coming to an end, it is notable that the judge showed more

than adequate deference to a man standing out of sight. Said person known to be

none other than the Governor himself.

“For this crime and, at the suggestion of my peer, I call on yonder master of

inks and stains to imprint our judgment forever on his flesh.” With a single bound

the justice seemed to flow up the steps so that he stooped before his captive.

This for no other ears but mine own, “Wilt thou wear it proudly? This mark,

by the order of my master? So, my friend, you have lost yet again!”

It was I who stood with my head down that day, and with my hand out that

night. Even as my torturer approached with the weapons of his trade, I held to my

hate. As he etched a scarlet rune onto my hand, I could not help but wonder at my

idiocy. I who swore never to be lead astray, so easily beguiled even as I made my

oath?



As a guard would later relate, the branded prisoner sat quiet in his cell long

before dawn arrived. All that could be heard was the laughter of one barely attached

to reality.

“They intended this letter, a mark of my pride, to shame me? Ha, so shall it

be, a tribute to my pride and stupidity. Ever a reminder of the guile of our Ancient

Enemy, yon Prince of the Air!”

Through the bars could be seen, a man’s hands in the dark. His right

unblemished, his left- Behold! His pride stained scarlet, the letter P!

A reminder of the Prince

Of his Pride

Now, of his Punishment



Nothing here is ever as it seems. Make your choices wisely, for you only ever

get one chance at every choice. No one is perfect, all make mistakes, all make a

choice, and all pay a price.