"You must do this," the old advisor-priestess to me. "For your people."
"I know," I whispered to the crone as the priestesses, not that much younger than me, prepared me for ritual. The ritual that will save my people.
"You are the only one who can do this." She helped the young priestesses put my ceremonial robes and head dress on me. The last thing to be handed to me was my knife. I had to use it tonight. I don't know if it will be my last. "You the only one young enough and strong enough to do it."
"And leave my brother in charge for a short time," I replied, gazing straight ahead. "He's part of the reason I have to do this. I have to make sure the bloodline is strong for the coming generations."
A middle aged priestess walked in and whispered into the old woman's ear. After she finished relaying the message, she walked back out of the room. "The time has come."
"I am ready." I stood up. Not sure where I was going. I knew it was powerful. The people were powerful. Not in the same way, but enough to help us. Whether they wanted to or not.
This was not my first ritual, but I felt the nervousness building inside me. I had never done a ritual to this magnitude. My mother before me had tried everything as I had to make sure we maintain power as a people not just the high priestess line. But nothing worked or worked for very long. My brother, as well as other people, was very powerful. But that wasn't our biggest problem. Most of the population were female and not in a good way. This was why I was traveling to an unknown world.
Nobody told me about the world. Not one detail. I had been there when we finally had chosen the world that I would go to. I learned about it from there.
I walked out to the group of priestesses and priests that were chosen for this rite. We needed a lot of power just to send me to the new world. The group chanted as I marched through the path between them. Reaching the end of the path, with the people circled around me; I pulled out my knife and raised it high. Speaking in the language of our ancestors, I brought the knife down and cut the palm of my hand. When I hand was full of blood, I flicked my wrist and watched the blood go into the fire in the center of the ring.
In the modern tongue, I chanted, "My blood is your blood. My power is your power. There power will be our power. Let the future be fertile. Let our world and their world be one. Let me be among the strange people. Let me live in a strange world. Let me be one with them. Protect me as I journey to their world. Protect me as I lived among them. The gods' will be done. "
I brought the knife to my midriff and sliced myself above my naval. I took my cut hand and smeared it onto my new wound. Lifting my hand to my face, I smear the blood onto my face and flicked the rest into the fire. The fire smoked and crackled loudly before the pain shot through my body. The world turn black and I felt something tugging on me. As I was pulled out of my own world, I thought of my people and the girls that are doing this ritual. I lost all consciousness out as soon as I felt the ground underneath my body.
A/N: I know another new story, but this one wouldn't leave me alone. I promise I will get back to all my other stories since I currently have the time to. If my muse gives me the proper inspiration and words. Later and enjoy!