What exactly are you meant to do when you have nothing to say? when you do not believe anything you could say was worth anything?
I stood here, in the middle of this wrenched town-square and watched these people burn, and for what? A witch hunt that was based upon falsehoods? An obsession made crusade?
How could I ever be heard and thought sane? My thoughts are not my own, no, these are the thoughts of another, someone more brave than I. Someone who would stand up upon the pyre and burn with the damned, screaming convictions to the last.
Magic is not the evil, but the blackness that stains an individuals soul is. It is the individual and not the troupe who are to blame for evil acts! spare the whole and take the few who destroy peace in their unholy rage, but please, please, leave those aside that are innocent, I would scream. As I burnt, with deafness my companion, and dead beetle black eyes dilating in the flames consuming my flesh as feast.
No, I will stand here silently and hope, hope hope hope for a courageous man to take the space I am cowed to fill.