12-20-2020, 06:54 PM
The Fear of Death – Part 1
Unnamed prison where death row prisoners are kept, Kerlile
20th December 2020
Zichitla ran her fingers down her arm, reminding herself of the feel of her skin, the way it responded to touch, her body, her existence. She existed, for however brief a period, she was here and she was real. Soon, she would exist no longer. Despite her pleadings, her willingness to accept exile, her regrets, she’d been sentenced to death. It upset her greatly, left a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d trusted the Matriarchy and been let down.
She sighed and sat back down on the little cheap bed in her cell, all alone. This was a luxury for a prisoner in Kerlile, three years ago those on death row had been forced to sleep on the ground. That things had improved, no matter by how small an amount, brought no comfort to the former Aurora. All she could think about was how she’d had a chance to remain in Xiomera and live, and she’d chosen to come home and die. She’d chosen this, and now it was too late to turn back.
As a child, she’d had friends, in training. One of those was somewhere in Laeral, had disobeyed the order to return home and was now wanted by the Matriarchy. The other was sitting in a cell like hers in LOM, and if the rumours were correct, was being treated far worse than she was. It was ironic, Zichitla thought to herself, that she had been spared torture despite being the one in Kerlian prison. Yes, there’d been a few beatings, but that wasn’t proper torture in the mind of an Aurora.
All in all, she’d been treated perfectly well, by Kerlian standards. She had sufficient food, they’d actually arrested the woman who beat her, she was allowed to sleep, had been given a lawyer and was permitted visitors – not that she had anyone who would visit her. In the end, though, she had been denied the one thing she truly wanted: the chance to live. Her life would be over tomorrow, in the place where so many in Kerlile had met their end.
“You told us, when we returned to Kerlile, that we would be allowed to choose which name we called ourselves. Yet, I note my choice was not respected. I asked to be called Zichitla but I know you insist on calling me Nelly,” she said aloud. There was nobody there, but there was sure to be someone listening. Nobody responded.
“You lied to us,” she continued, to the walls, “and said we were safe here, that we wouldn’t be punished for our perceived failure. You took us as children and moulded us into weapons to serve your own purposes, stealing our lives, and you wonder why so many of us cannot adjust to what you consider normal afterwards. And now you will take my life, again, not as punishment but because you fear I am right.”
The silence continued. Zichitla sighed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. There was a stain there, perhaps the blood of some pre-reform unfortunate who’d been beaten in this very cell. Or a leak from above, given that the place was not very well-maintained. Nobody here was being beaten now, she would have recognised the sounds. But still the other prisoners would sob or scream in the night.
They’re traitors to the Matriarchy, she thought to herself. They deserve their fate, as you deserve yours. What were you thinking threatening a member of the Council? You should have known and accepted that your life was forfeit the moment you did that. Has Yauhmi’s mercy completely warped your perception of the world? The moment you were caught in Xiomera your life ended. This is just some extra time. Accept your fate.
Yet she couldn’t. She wouldn’t just lie down and die quietly for them. She’d been cooperative until now, never fighting back, allowing them to detain her, cart her from cell to cell and courtroom to prison. A good, loyal Kerlian who knows she deserves her punishment and accepts it stoically. What a load of nonsense. Zichitla had not betrayed the Matriarchy; the Matriarchy had betrayed her.
And she didn’t intend to die tomorrow.
Unnamed prison where death row prisoners are kept, Kerlile
20th December 2020
Zichitla ran her fingers down her arm, reminding herself of the feel of her skin, the way it responded to touch, her body, her existence. She existed, for however brief a period, she was here and she was real. Soon, she would exist no longer. Despite her pleadings, her willingness to accept exile, her regrets, she’d been sentenced to death. It upset her greatly, left a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d trusted the Matriarchy and been let down.
She sighed and sat back down on the little cheap bed in her cell, all alone. This was a luxury for a prisoner in Kerlile, three years ago those on death row had been forced to sleep on the ground. That things had improved, no matter by how small an amount, brought no comfort to the former Aurora. All she could think about was how she’d had a chance to remain in Xiomera and live, and she’d chosen to come home and die. She’d chosen this, and now it was too late to turn back.
As a child, she’d had friends, in training. One of those was somewhere in Laeral, had disobeyed the order to return home and was now wanted by the Matriarchy. The other was sitting in a cell like hers in LOM, and if the rumours were correct, was being treated far worse than she was. It was ironic, Zichitla thought to herself, that she had been spared torture despite being the one in Kerlian prison. Yes, there’d been a few beatings, but that wasn’t proper torture in the mind of an Aurora.
All in all, she’d been treated perfectly well, by Kerlian standards. She had sufficient food, they’d actually arrested the woman who beat her, she was allowed to sleep, had been given a lawyer and was permitted visitors – not that she had anyone who would visit her. In the end, though, she had been denied the one thing she truly wanted: the chance to live. Her life would be over tomorrow, in the place where so many in Kerlile had met their end.
“You told us, when we returned to Kerlile, that we would be allowed to choose which name we called ourselves. Yet, I note my choice was not respected. I asked to be called Zichitla but I know you insist on calling me Nelly,” she said aloud. There was nobody there, but there was sure to be someone listening. Nobody responded.
“You lied to us,” she continued, to the walls, “and said we were safe here, that we wouldn’t be punished for our perceived failure. You took us as children and moulded us into weapons to serve your own purposes, stealing our lives, and you wonder why so many of us cannot adjust to what you consider normal afterwards. And now you will take my life, again, not as punishment but because you fear I am right.”
The silence continued. Zichitla sighed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. There was a stain there, perhaps the blood of some pre-reform unfortunate who’d been beaten in this very cell. Or a leak from above, given that the place was not very well-maintained. Nobody here was being beaten now, she would have recognised the sounds. But still the other prisoners would sob or scream in the night.
They’re traitors to the Matriarchy, she thought to herself. They deserve their fate, as you deserve yours. What were you thinking threatening a member of the Council? You should have known and accepted that your life was forfeit the moment you did that. Has Yauhmi’s mercy completely warped your perception of the world? The moment you were caught in Xiomera your life ended. This is just some extra time. Accept your fate.
Yet she couldn’t. She wouldn’t just lie down and die quietly for them. She’d been cooperative until now, never fighting back, allowing them to detain her, cart her from cell to cell and courtroom to prison. A good, loyal Kerlian who knows she deserves her punishment and accepts it stoically. What a load of nonsense. Zichitla had not betrayed the Matriarchy; the Matriarchy had betrayed her.
And she didn’t intend to die tomorrow.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax