"No witch had ever hard us. It is our fear that has won again and again and just for our false sense of security we have hunted them and killed them." a strange Heavy and suffocating silence blanketed the plaza.
So villagers turned pale, others shifted uncomfortably, as if the truth had just peeled back their masks of humanity. No one dared to speak for a long ti. Their eyes flicked between Eron, Liliana, and Olivia, as if seeing ghosts among them. Ghosts they have created themselves, but they have no strength to face them.
Eron’s legs trembled again, and this ti his father moved swiftly, placing a steadying hand on his son’s back. The old man looked smaller than before, shrunken under the weight of truth and years of guilt. Wordlessly, he guided his son through the stunned crowd. The villagers instinctively made their way, looking at them still as if they were watching a nightmare unfolding.
They reached the village chief and the burnt man greeted the old man with a nod. The village chief sat rooted in his seat at the center platform, his mouth slightly agape and his hands gripping the arms of his wooden chair as though they were the only things keeping him upright. His eyes remained fixed on Eron but they looked wide and hollow.
Eron sank to his knees, not even waiting to be asked.
"I co not to beg for forgiveness but to pay for my sins." he said in a hoarse voice again. "I am ready for any kind of punishnt. If exile, I accept it. Even if you offer death.." His father flinched—"then I will accept it. I should have never lived under protection while the truth festered like a rot in this village."
The chief’s lips parted, but no words ca out. His throat moved as he swallowed hard, searching for a voice that had long been used to leading, never to doubt.
"For now, Go ho," he finally said, after a long pause. "Let us discuss what must be done. This matter concerns the village. It must be weighed carefully."
Gasps rippled again, this ti from the fact that his new truth was already accepted. Eron seed like he did not want to leave, but he didn’t argue. He bowed his head again, deeper this ti. Then, with help of his father, he rose and turned to leave. The crowd did not cheer for his bravery to accept the truth. They did not shout for his lies that had changed their thoughts. They only stared motionless, as if ti itself had halted around them.
Only Olivia moved. Her cold, sharp gaze swept over the villagers. There was no pity in her eyes now. "Was there ever another case?" she asked quietly, yet the words rang out across the plaza like thunder.
The crowd shifted again. A few heads turned down.
"Another girl who had hard any villager?" she asked in a mocking voice. "Anyone who had killed your family or kids? No! But there was another witch, another healer, another helper who was dragged to flas because you imagined her to be dangerous. there were so many whose kindness you twisted into fear?"
A young man at the edge of the crowd opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words ca out.
Olivia stepped forward slowly with a calm look but her eyes burnt with rage and pain.
"But they have burnt the village recently." so of them claid seeing the look in her eyes. Olivia paused and then laughed but there was no humor in her eyes.
"Yes, they had. But have you ever thought why? If they had not been witches yet her family was burnt by you so many tis. Would they have not retaliated? How could it be their cruelty but not their defence or even... vengeance?"
She turned her gaze on the older woman who had earlier hissed at Liliana. The woman took a step back, swallowing hard.
"You all wanted an enemy," Olivia continued. "So you created one. Out of the very people who healed your children and delivered your babies."
Many looked at each other, not sure how to reply to her. A few of them started to whisper but there was no concrete proof that could support their fears.
"There was a girl working in the infirmary one and a half decades ago when the accident happened," a soft voice ca from the crowd. "With white-blonde hair. She used to make salves for my son’s burns. She disappeared after the fire. No one spoke of her again."
Another voice, trembling: "There was a midwife. She never returned after the autumn moon festival. They said she had a family, but she would have told if she was leaving."
A sob cracked through the plaza. Soone else spoke, "but how could we have known the truth. We did not do it intentionally." Olivia smiled at the man, looking at the fear yet reluctance in his eyes, she didn’t feel anger but pity.
"True, but if it had been a human who had killed four other n, would you have punished the whole community for her?" There was no accusation in her voice. "No! You would have only punished the girl but then dismissed the matter. But here, you blad the whole witches community and announced that we are criminals. How justified was it even if the witch had been at fault? There are good and bad people in each community. Why should everyone bear the mistake of one person?
Olivia’s face remained impassive, but her eyes glead not with tears, but a fury held back with effort.
"How many?" she asked, louder now. "How many lies were told to keep you comfortable? How many good people were turned to ash so your stories could remain simple?" No one answered. They couldn’t. The weight of it all had beco unbearable.
Liliana moved beside Olivia, no longer supporting Eron but standing firm as her equal. Her expression mirrored Olivia’s, no longer that of a frightened witch, but of a survivor.
And the village stood in silence, finally stripped bare under the weight of its own sins.
"I... accept my mistakes. I am a sinner, please forgive !"
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