MARIANA
She lost consciousness from the lashes of her cruel jailer, though it seemed like a dream when she heard the young man talking about her being judged in her absence, with a guilty verdict already decided. So she forced herself awake and guessed she could demand, “Wait, young man, I need you to take me to the trial. I must defend myself.”
Piré, the jailer, prepared his whip to teach her a lesson in reality; however, the young warrior signaled him to stop as he spoke, “Girl, I wish I could take you anywhere. The truth is, I’m just one of the many sons of Cacique Chancó. It’s not like I have much voice, much less a vote. Whatever my father decides is almost sacred. Your only option is to entrust yourself to your gods.”
“Prince Checo, I don’t understand why you seem to be so weak with this outsider, who stains this sacred land with her filthy presence.” Piré tightened his grip on the whip as he gritted his stained teeth, seeming ready to strike sparks from them.