The flames rise, licking at my flesh. The stench of my burning raiment rises up to choke my nostrils. Clenching the palantir between my hands, I deny my own body's impulses to flee from the pain. Let them retreat, their mouths agape in horror! Let the old wizard feign sorrow; let him keen a funeral dirge. Scheming hypocrite, he seeks to replace me with another. But his joy shall be brief. Soon all shall wish they were as me. Agony turns to deranged euphoria as fire consumes my body. Death over slavery! Only in death is there salvation – and victory.