I have been given this quill and ink in order to write my confession. That is not what I wish to write, and it is not what I will write. A sympathetic guard has said that he will carry my letter out of this place, to my family. I do not think I can believe him -- it is most likely a trick -- but I no longer care. I must speak the truth, as I am the only one left to do so.

My people served the gods faithfully. We did almost none of the heinous things we were accused of -- the things my fellows confessed to, in the end. Torture will make a man say many things, and it ceases to matter whether or not they're true things, as long as the pain stops.