Heat and Stone

Magic Word: Brahmin

The day has come. The kingdom would be rid of the petrification spell, and the miasma which permeated the ground could be lifted. At the very least, I could kill the person responsible. The light in the castle challenged everything around it as I walked towards it like a moth to a flame. I bobbed and weaved through the stone remnants of the townspeople as the gate hung open. I didn’t stop to think about its position as I rushed in. That monster would pay for what he had done to my home, my friends, my family. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and light a torch, then ascended the stairs towards the light. It didn’t take long to reach the place, as the light from the room spilled into the dark stone hallway. I snuffed out the torch, creeping slowly up to the hallway before being jolted by the sound of a voice from the room “If you’re going to confront me, do so like a man.” a voice bellowed from the room. I mustered my strength as I entered the doorway, and a balding old man with a grizzled, silver beard stared at me with cold, determined eyes. “You want my head for what happened?” He said in a stoic manner. I nod determinedly, reaching for my falchion before he raised a hand to stop me. “At least let an old man have his say first. I heard of this city’s plight from the capital, don’t you think someone should have stopped this? The people were up in arms with the brahmin of the city, who had dodged social responsibility, instead choosing to milk money at the expense of others’ wellbeing. But there were those who wanted to protect the elite which they perceived as a benefit to society… which caused a civil war for the city. Families were split apart in their determination for a better future. My choice was to either let itself be sorted out, or step in and stop it. I made a mistake, however. In my rage at the sight of people slaughtering each other, my magic was too strong, causing the citizens to turn to stone instantly. My intent was for them to leave the area, or be forced to petrify if they remained. This is why your fingers and toes are beginning to solidify. I can’t bring them back, no more than you can give a rock life. Do what you will with me.”
I paused for a moment, pondering if I should reach for my blade and lop his head without a thought. I realized, however, that killing this man would make me the same as him; a man allowing his passions to pass judgment. “Come with me.” I told him. I took him back to the capital, and allowed the indifference of the court to handle his fate.

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