They smear melted iron on my brother from his bare back to his face, the pajamas stripped from his body, as one by one the villagers disperse. Since I am second born, they wanted me to go first, the wooden stick that was used to stir the melted iron near pieces.
I declined, disappearing further into the crowd, hearing the murmurs of how my brother was being punished lightly.
And I watched as his pale skin reddened at the hot touch of melted iron, his mouth still dripping with blood from the lack of tongue.
The torn body part had been flamed to ashes before him, and Caleb had cried, and screamed possibly for mercy. It was unclear as he couldn't use proper words anymore.
My father, strong man that he was, watched until the very end, and once the last villager left from torturing my brother, father stepped up, and lightly wiped Caleb's cheek, his skin coming off with the cloth. And then my father wept, finally letting himself break.
