The Sinner

I

The door swung open, making a loud echoing noise through the man’s prestigious house. Alessandro was sitting beside his table writing his second book against what he called ‘The Depraved Royalty’. He knew that the people beside the door were soldiers who were sent by the church to arrest him. His book offended bishops and the Pope. For him the fundament of the principles managed by the Vatican are corruptive acts. To his opinion, the medieval ages is mixed with corrupt kings, popes and other high ranked people whose acts are consumed of bribery, lies and violent crimes of inquisition.
Alessandro did not look towards the door; instead he stared at his book with eyes wide open. His previous script was burned; Alessandro knew that eventually his recent one would be thrown into the blaze too, but this time along with him. Did he know seven years ago; when he first decided to ‘displease’ the clergy, that he would end up in this way? He grinned at that thought; ‘to displease’, that is exactly the 'sin' that one committed when he went against the authority. He thought, It is because the clergy know that their rule is based on deception and that books similar to Alessandro's would decrease the power of the church eventually bringing it to collapse. Of course, the popes want to keep their power amongst the people who were not aware of the lies the Church is based upon.
The soldiers walked in the house until they reached Alessandro's writing table. They wore the typical chain armor and helmet. He wondered if these men felt loyal towards their leaders, or just scared of their power and helpless towards their persuasive intelligence.
One of the soldiers proclaimed: "You are guilty, and therefore you are being taken to prison for offending the great and Holy Catholic Church and…"
"Opposing the 'great royalty'… yes, yes, I know. I am ready to be taken away."
The soldiers were surprised, however, they continued: “You will be burned.” Alessandro was not so surprised. He had considered the possibility. But the way they said it, the word burned, being so close to death, was what frightened Alessandro.
He stood up and followed the arresters out of the house, not looking back until the soldiers themselves turned aback, throwing one of their torches into the house. The writer thoughtfully and sorrowfully watched the house slowly burn.
Alessandro knew this tough day would come; he had mentally experienced and lived through these several moments many times before. He was psychologically ready for it. Yet… he was saddened, maybe even in melancholy, but… why let this emotion crawl on you and discomfort you. He could either cope with it and suffer or live, but ignore the pain. He chose to exclude the feeling. Although it was hard enough to exclude, in addition he had to live with the artificialness of not showing his feelings. He was shattered… actually he was in that state from the beginning when he first had the little thrill of thinking 'I shall fight against the evil of Catholicism’, which was once so strong.
What was sure was that Alessandro did not expect such a blow. At this point he could not be in the state of ignoring his feelings; they were too strong, too overpowering.
Why am I not opposing the soldiers? What can I do, at most I can try to explain my ideas to them. Of course the chances that they will listen are very small. After all, who are they; simple soldiers who don't think for themselves, who just follow what the powerful and influencing say.





II

Alessandro arranged his thoughts while he and the soldiers were sitting in the carriage driven by two horses. Everyone was surprisingly quiet and still.
Most of the people in Alessandro’s family were rich nobles who strictly followed and obeyed the clergy. No… everyone in his family except of him were persuaded by the lies of the Pope; ‘you will gain penance from your sins if you go on the Crusades, you will gain passage to heaven if you go to the Crusades’, and so on. He heretizised in his head, The indoctrinations through deception are the popes’ method to gain money and power.
Alessandro murmured, “The Clergy pursue power and reputation, and that is all they seek. They gain it by conducting deception.” He did not know if he spoke this for the soldiers to hear; whether they heard at all.
Nevertheless, the soldiers all suddenly turned and glared at Alessandro, then they roared of laughter: “Who are we to take part in such matters of the authority. We merely do what the important tell us to do. We are of no importance. The members of the clergy had the fate of being members of the clergy, while we stupid soldiers have the fate of being stupid soldiers.”
They are right, Alessandro thought, and I have the fate of being a heretic.
Alessandro’s life was divided into two parts; from when he was born in 1100, to 1125, in which he lived by the Popes’ morality, and then all his life afterwards until today, at age 32, in which he would finish his slow revolt; he lived lawless.
His relationship with his family was always very poor. These last seven years Alessandro’s relations had fallen apart. His family was very dogmatic, while Alessandro since teenage years saw falsehood in the misleading Catholicism. The relatives hated Alessandro… no, they ignored Alessandro, acting as if he did not exist. It is not that the family act or ever acted against Alessandro, nor did they ever exchange words with him, trying to persuade him to stop his heresy, they just… forgot him. Many times Alessandro wondered if anyone at all from his family ever thought of him. He lived alone, talking with strangers in the city Bologna. Albeit Alessandro was an unloved son, he was still firstborn, allowing him to inherit the-premises. Since his parents died when he was 22, he had the money to live in a good condition. He tried to explain his rebellious idea to his family, which of course caused an immediate reaction of dogmatism... no, they did not even think of it as an opinion, it was just imprudent talk of a person who does not know what he is speaking about. After a few times of the same explanation and the same reaction, Alessandro started to be affected, slowly forgetting that he ever thought against the church. In the same time his family was also losing trust in him, thinking that his devotion was not with the church. Then at age 25 he had the thrill. He went from his home city Rome, settling in Bologna. There he wrote his book, which he finished at age 31. Almost immediately after, Alessandro started his new volume which he handwritten until now, when he finished his heretical acts. Now; he was being driven on a carriage to his death.
When Alessandro arrived in Bologna seven years ago, he sent a quite comic, but sad letter to his family stating that he had gone away to become a heretic. He never knew what their reaction was. They did not send any of their soldiers to take Alessandro away, nor did they ever send him a letter back. Alessandro assumed that it was a sort of caring act from them, though at the same time carelessness. They let him live because he was one of the members of the family and the son of the most important nobles from their relations, but at the same time they had no concern of changing Alessandro’s perspective or doing anything, in fact, that would bring him closer to the family.
Did I know that I would sooner or later be found and put to death? If so then why did I act contrary to the accepted belief? It was a sacrifice to my ideas, for what is essential for me. It is a part of commitment to my truth, probably the real truth. I was waiting for this day, the moment I decided to make my first book public, I knew this day would come. Maybe I was even hoping for this day to arrive, hoping to be known, to do the right and true deed.
But even with my dedication to my rightfulness, I cannot live happily. The fact that my work will not have an affect and furthermore will be burned, ruins my life. Sometimes though I am glad, proud that I am doing what is most important for me.
Alessandro recalled the memory of asking himself many years ago: ‘Should I start writing these offensive scripts, to sacrifice my life against the clergy, or endure with the principles that my family lived in, the life which is against my will.’ It was his dilemma at the time; his critical choice eventually came to bring him into the predicament he was in now.

III

Alessandro and several other people- church members, citizens interested in the event, and soldiers, gathered around the wooden pole, encircling it. Alessandro and a few members of the army advanced towards the stake. To Alessandro, everything seemed still and sorrowful. He stood next to the inquisitor, who was holding a scroll with both hands: one at the top one at the bottom.
The inquisitor started his catholic speech: “This man is criminal, for he has offended the Great and Holy Christian Church by means of heresy,” he said in a strong influencing voice and paused for a small moment. He continued: “His provoking acts attempted to weaken the rightful authority. He condemned and criticized! He wrote a heretical book against the rightful Clergy. He tried to spread indoctrinations through deception in his writings. He dares to affront the true adherent of God.” Some nodded with agreement and some stayed still, waiting for the priest to continue.
Alessandro examined the floor, although in addition he was thinking about something else,whispering to himself, I tried to act against a ruling and successful despotic organization. I did provoke the Clergy by condemning and criticizing them, I am a criminal, but by the morality of an unethical institution, I did not follow the accepted principles and therefore I am an enemy of God, that is, an enemy of the Catholic Church. I am a heretic.
“He dares to oppose the work of Jesus! The dissenting Alessandro Carlos shall be penalized to death, for he has criticized and violated God’s faith!”
Alessandro was grabbed and slowly tied to the wooden pole. His mind raced, what have I done? I have killed myself. My entire life was an anxiety, tribulation and dissatisfaction. I was either having a minor hope that I would succeed in my goal, or I was certain that I would be executed and therefore was depressed, or I was happy for the very reason that my deeds consisted of my own common sense. So many dilemmas in my feelings.
They laid the flame on the so fragile twigs, which at this time seemed so significant. Bit by bit each twig started to catch fire and slowly the sparkly inferno grew. The atmosphere started to get into the state of calefaction.
It is now plain that reason brought death. I used my own common sense. I am a Heretic. And this is my end.