The Happening at Salem - Part I

I generally tried to stay out of trouble.

I always had. My country laid waste by the Tiberians nearly 150 years ago, our economy destroyed, and our religion all but underground, I tended to keep a low profile. It wasn’t just for me though – I have a family, including my two little boys Alexander and Rufus that I need to take care of. If something were to happen to me, I don’t know how they would cope.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided to go to Salem for the religious festival. I mean, it was a long trip, and talk about walking right into the middle of a bee’s hive – Salem was the center of unrest. It had only just recently been conquered by the Tiberians, and the people that lived there were very antagonistic to their rule – religious radicals by all accounts. Even though I professed to the same religion, hence my attending the festival, I wasn’t as crazy as all that.

Anyway, I arrived in Salem, and the city was in uproar. Some preacher was coming in from the surrounding countryside, and the city was ecstatic. Apparently, he was going to lead a revolution against the Tiberians, and the city was ready to go up in arms to help him.

Not my cup of tea.

Instead, I checked into a nearly-full inn and went to prepare for the festival: a lot of rituals, but I like that – makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger. I planned to attend to my rituals, be very spiritual the whole week, and go home a better person.

If only I were so lucky.