Six- Tristram

Water slowly dripped through the window into my cell. It was raining outside, gently so that you could still smell the pine trees. What a beautiful smell, pine trees and rain. I would miss it. My face was pressed against the bars, not yearning for the freedom I'd have too soon but to smell the trees one last time before entering the musty and soiled smells of the prison. A little rain couldn't keep the Juma from coming to give me my last rights. And he did come; dressed in his steel colored shawl and square hat.

 "Tristram, I am here to deliver your last rights and prepare you for your banishment. Lets begin." He signaled for me to sit on the bench installed in the cell. A servant brought him a chair from the guard room. The Juma, speaking in the old language, prayed over me and poured water mixed with iron shavings on my head. The last rights... A ridiculous ritual reminding us of Earth's power over us all. Somehow I feel the Palkins prove our religion wrong with their mastery over the desert. I could have even said as much since I'm already being banished, but it is wiser to hold my tongue. Hasn't my rashness gotten me in enough trouble already? Finally the Juma finishes and it is time to prepare me for the cleaving ceremony. 

The Juma lists off the items taken from me: my iron boots, several pairs of armor, All my clothes, my house down by the river, the little bit of gold I had saved for Elane (I wonder if she weeps for me...) and, of course, my sword crafted by my father's father, the sign of our family honor. It would go to my younger brother now. He then handed me my new possessions  A green cloak, gray trousers, leather boots, and a brown tunic. Not gloves. My brand must be clearly visible on my left hand. Soon they'll give me my brand and the knife with which they will cut me out of our race. Cut me out of humanity. The knife that will kill Tristram of the Brackins.

I stand up, ready to go through the cleaving ceremony, to go with honor, when I notice the Juma smiling wickedly at me. I recognize him, Yumi's son, Rolan? Ronald? Hector? It doesn't matter. I beat him in the tournament to join the guardian guild, he wasn't fit to be a member of the royal guard, too conniving. He would be a better suited in the aristocracy but he clearly chose religion. No wonder he smiles, he's getting his revenge for me beating him. For the first time I am worried by the upcoming ceremony. The Juma has a lot of control and I worry how much pain he'll cause me, both physical and emotional... it doesn't matter, I deserve it.

With that last thought, I exit the prison and enter the town square.