Thugs and ogres came breaking through in the darkest of night. Rape lust raged fire in their hearts and fevered the brain. There was but one word and that word was "Kill!". The fire forever hunted fresh fuel and the more innocent the spirit dragged to conflagration, the higher the flames. Faces red with joy laughed as this innocent being recoiled in terror. For this was a sanctioned rape; a legal rape; even - some said- a necessary rape. "You're coming with us! You're charged with Failing to Agree in the First Degree."
The High Lords of the order served their gods well; bearing fruits of death. T'was a foul taste to stomach but faith must be maintained in the order. Some maintained it into death. Others served the same gods as the High Lords and bore the bitter fruit in treacherous defiance. But for many the taste became too ill to suffer and faith in these High Lords eroded. Even so, these was a sort who'd consume the deadly fruits if only the taste were of a more appetizing sort.
A firing squad of questions faced the captured dreamer. The bodies were separate but the mind was one. Behind them: mindless thugs, reveling in evil deemed holy. The Grand Inquisitor fired first, followed by the rest of the chambers:
"Speak truly, sir, for the truth is mine own; mine enemy."
"We are here to cast our sins upon you!"
"The worst time to say we're wrong is when we are!"
"We've not learned our lesson yet."
"How should we treat a dog that bites the feeding hand?
"The rebel yell fires doom's desire!"
"Come, and sing our victory song!"
Then, in unison: "Tell us why you declare the sky blue when the truth has decreed it black!"
A question unexpected. Had they not eyes in their head? "I say it because I see it?"
"See it? See it? Tell us: how is it you see thusly?"
Again, a question unexpected. "With mine eyes?"
The beauty of the Inquisition was to always know the answer before any was given. "'With thine eyes' he says! A soul placed above all others. Tell us, oh great soul, how do thine eyes see?"
Thus came the realization: t'was in playing the game was the losing.
The game of truth: a witch's haunt. Ere the truth will out, a vanity's rule of infamy, a fool's talk signifying nothing. Deeds in the dark deliver the doer's death at dawn's day. Best put the kingdom up for sale.
The Grand Inquisitor tired of his fool's errand but was stubborn in his path. "A foolish man to be so tethered to the truth." The pained smile of one whose time is short. "Destroy him. Justice cannot be served in a bent man's house."