Profit wrote:“You know, despite what you are accused of, it has been a rare pleasure...interrogating you these last few days. We do not really catch heretics of your quality.”
The prisoner looks up, the blood from the gash across his forehead still dripping down his face. Despite his obvious fatigue, he cannot help but laugh. “I’d imagine you probably get a lot of people who protest their innocence til you execute them, but not like me.”
The inquisitor moves over to a small desk, taking a pen and scrawling something across the bottom of a sheet of paper. “Not quite up to your standard, no. Some of them, as you said, protest to the end, but they always resign themselves to their fate...but you, you neither confess your guilt nor do you proclaim your innocence...and despite your firsthand knowledge of what will become of you, you have not begged for your life or resigned yourself to your fate...All those other times I’ve asked have been mostly due to it being my job...but this last time...” the pen stops, leaving something unfinished on the paper. “Can you not provide anything to refute the charges against you?”
The prisoner closes his eyes for a second and you can almost hear the gears in his head turning as he formulates his reply, for an instant the inquisitor thinks he might have succeeded...he is one of the better ones after all, he is allowed a little bit of pride. All the others rely to much on harsher methods, but he prided himself on his ability...but when those eyes opened once again, and he was met with that piercing stare, those steel gray eyes, looking into his very soul, though he’d never admit it. He knew the substance of the answer before it was said.
“I have said what I’ve said and I’ve meant every word. To change or add something would forever taint me. Though, I will say, some will wonder if you can face certain death and not be resigned to it...heh.”
The man sighs and finishes signing the paper. “So be it then. Prisoner 379, Elijah Zair Kael. The order is hereby granted to revoke the stay on your execution. You will be burned at the stake on the morrow for the crime of heresy. May god have mercy on your soul.”
The prisoner, Elijah, closes his eyes. “Might I ask one favor...after I die, can you relay a message to those who witness it?”
“...perhaps...what is your message?”
I wonder if anyone will notice what I hid in there. Who knows, sometimes when I think I'm being obvious people call me obscure and vica versa. Oh well.