Stand little girl, and look at the world.
It's just not looking quite as it should.
Lina sat at the back of the crowd, gathered beneath the cloud filled stormy sky. Rain fell down, causing the choking dust in the air to churn into mud beneath her feet. Her summer sunset hair was streaked with moisture, and her face was twisted with anger.
The grass ain't so green, the hills ain't so tall.
The minds are too closed. The hearts are too small.
He'd saved them, the stranger. He'd saved them all. He'd used all his strength until he had nothing left, fought to the very end. And how did they thank him?
Execution.
Look little girl, at the man set to die.
He looked evil. He must be. Anything that faught like that couldn't be good. Besides, he'd probably brougth the things with him. It was best to get rid of him, kill him, blame him for all the horrors dancing in the shadows. Lina ground her teeth in anger and frustration.
Look at him, girl, now just tell me why.
The young man stood straight and tall, though he looked like he was going to fall at any moment. He wasn't showing fear. Rage at the pure stupidity of it all smoldered in Lina's deep red eyes.
Humans are cruel, humans cast blame
He was the one left with nothing the same.
His only crime was saving them -- it had been stupid. They were a god fearing town, anything that brought bogeymen out of their closets was better off dead. But how could he have known? And now he stood, eyes cast at nothing, ready to be burned at the stake.
Don't glare at the farmer, with children, a wife
He has so much to lose, he has his whole life.
And don't blame the blamers, they need to be paid.
People need people to cast away shame.
Lina spared a glance at Gourry and Sylfiel, their two month old tucked in her arms. They didn't deserve this, they shouldn't have to live with the guilt -- but what else could they do?
What else could anyone do?
So stand little girl, and smile as you pass.
She'd show them what she could do.
Stand proud, little girl, though this may be you last.
The youth looked up; he was no older than she, and the startled look in his eyes fighting with pure amazement.
Why would she choose to die with him? It would do no good.
Your death has no glory, no triumph, no fame.
But...
Your death holds no feathers, no flags, and no gain.
Maybe...
But while you walked to the blade, you won the true fight.
Lina was pulled to the mound of grass and pitch piled on the platform, refusing to wince as hands bound her roughly from behind. It would do no good, but... Maybe...
Maybe...
Maybe someone would...
And die proud little girl --
Think.
you did what was right.