Let's call this chapter an extended prologue.
Disclaimer: nope, still own nothing bar the new tea blend :D
Ara, surely they do not plan to sacrifice her in the usual way, right?
I cannot tear my eyes from the struggling girl. Wandering with my sight over her lithe form, I notice several bruises on her fair, almost porcelain face. Her trip through the forest must have been a harsh one - there are twigs and leaves tangledinto her raven hair and her clothes are more than dotted with mud.
One of her guardians pulls at the binding rope and when she refuses to move faster, he slaps her with open hand. That, young man, is not how you should treat a lovely maiden. You have just earned yourself a bad case of diarrhoea for the next fortnight.
The girl seems unmoved by the slap, quickly getting to her feet and following her captors, never ceasing her fight for freedom. The scowl that never leaves her face, marring its beautiful features, coupled with the fire swirling in those deep green eyes, proves that she is going to fight until the very end: until they place her, arms and legs restrained by strong, flaxen ropes and mouth gagged with harsh cloth, on the woods arrangedon the altar and put a fire to it. Until they burn her alive, sacrificing her young life to my name.
What have you done, lovely one, for them to condemn you to such a cruel fate? Have you hurt them in any way or do they think it an honour to you?
In the meantime the villagers scatter on the hilltop, surrounding the altar. The men have already finished preparing the pyre of fragrant wood upon which their offering shall be burnt. I carefully scan the Fuukan mob: men and women of all ages gathered to witness the sacrificial ceremony. I even spot some children, running here and there, obviously waiting with their parents.
I am a goddess, I have lived through a lot of different times and ages but still cannot comprehend how they could consider a human's death a form of entertainment. What confuses me even more, is that they instil this horrid ideain their little ones, instead protecting their innocent minds and teaching them a value of life.
Three guards, armed with spears, have brought the girl to the altar, pushing her to her knees. She struggles to stand up, but heavy hands put on her narrow shoulders keep her kneeling. This induces a growl muffled by a gag, as my lovely sacrifice keeps frowning at the brutes.
The elderly man in rich clothes takes the place beside the maiden. From the way he bears himself one can easily tell that his is a position of power. Wanderingwith his sight over his fellow villagers, he slowly reigns them into silence. Under the authority exuding from his figure, even children stop their games and obediently return to their parents.
Taking one last look over his people, the chieftain of Fuuka clears his throat and raises his hands, obviously preparing to announce sacrificial acclamation.
Ah, finally. The reason for this whole circus, this madness that may easily cost somebody a life.
"Oh thee, mighty one, who rouses the sun to rise every morning and puts it to its sleep in the deepest chasms at the end of the day. Thee, who breathes life into all living creatures, having created them from the dirt of earthly soil, and when the time comes, harvests their souls, ripen into sweet fruits of our lowly human passions."
Honestly, I could never dare to take credit for that. Creation, as well as bringing life and taking it away, is the sole domain of The Most High One; The God, you may say. The One who has laid the foundations of this world and set rules which prevent me from intervening here and now, snatching the girl from those savages and saving her. The rules I am more and more willing to bend or even break, given the situation unfolding before my eyes.
"Thee, who has been blessing us with peace and abundant harvests for so many generations and who promised to grant us even more amazing graces if only we stay truthful to thy word."
This part would certainly be right on the spot if not for their disregard for my word in these past years, ages even. What made them recall those promises at this very point of time? And what is the connection between my promises and this sacrifice when I have never asked them for such offerings?
"Here we gather today, bringing thee the offering thou have asked for. The sacred maiden, untainted by low earthly pleasures, our human desires unknown to her. Untouched by any man in her whole life. The sweetest of our kin, ripen yet not tasted by any tongue."
Ara, a virgin? One of those hard to breed and thus extremely rare creatures? Do they not mistake me for someone else? Not that I can't appreciate their choice; they certainly do have some good taste…
The girl blushes at the chieftain's words, the light pink tint adorning her cheeks proving him true. And I cannot help but find her even more charming, despite the fact that she never ceases to glare at her captors. Slowly, carefully, as gentle as a breeze in the first hours of a new day, I reach to the maiden, touching her heart in an attempt to sooth its pain and sorrow. For it is a frown of anxiety that appears on her face now, not the one of the anger, even though she would want it to seem so.
My sweet damsel starts to look around, confused about this peace that entered her soul mere moments ago. Turning right and left, paying no heed to the crowd nor the chieftain, she's searching for its source but to no avail. Finally, she settles her emerald eyes on the earth, but a bit more composed than before, her delicate face tad smoother.
Full of himself and wrapped in his pride, the Fuukan chieftain carries on.
"Oh, great Viola-sama!"
If earlier I have had some doubts whether they really came here for me, now I have none of them. 'Viola-sama' is the sobriquet given to me by their ancestors sometime at the beginnings of my custody over them; the nickname originating from the first flowers blooming upon their once bare soil, the flowers which were a visible sign of my covenant with the people of this land.
"We bring her to thee, sacrificing the pure life thou have chosen by thyself."
At this point the elder man gives a sign to the brutes guarding my girl to heave her upon the altar. Although, I would never dare to call lifting her lithe frame 'heaving' and if any of them as much as huffs or winces under her weight they are going to join their slapping friend in his penitence.
It occurs to me that if I am ever to learn about the reasons of their madness, 'now' would be the best and probably the only possible moment. I carefully reach into the chieftain's mind; carefully so he would not notice my intrusion and not undermine my attempts. One by one, I sieve through his memories, finally picking out the one I am looking for.
Tiny village tavern. Dim lights that obscure the patrons' figures and hinder any attempt of recognising them undertaken by anyone who does not know them since birth. Leaden atmosphere, reeking with sweat of unwashed bodies, with poor-quality tobacco, and with homemade liquor brewed on whatever plants and ingredients were available, compared to which moonshine tastes almost like a champagne. Almost unbreathable air made even thicker by never-disappearing clouds of suffocating smoke.
It was in this gloomy surroundings where a group of Fuukans sat around a few small tables, drinking mouldy beer and talking: cursing meagre last-year harvest and the bloody weather that will probably damagethis year's as well, ranting about their wives and their never-ending demands, about their cheeky bastard kids and their excesses - all those things men usually talk about when left on their own.
But this stagnant meeting, repeating itself every evening, couldn't last forever. A commotion started at one of the tables and like a wave went through the whole room, bringing many of the patrons to their feet. And a yell followed the commotion:
"Oi, Chief! Blind Reito is seizing again!"
"Told him he should stop drinking this piss" came reply from the addressed man. The chieftain calmly finished his beer and only then stood up and moved towards the table where the commotion started. He regarded the glass of red wine standing on the table-top with cool aloofness. Honestly, who would want to drink this suspicious mixture when good old beer was at hand. "'Kay, folks, move back, give 'im some air. He'll be good in a couple."
The crowd thinned as people returned to their seats and picked up abandoned beverages. True to chieftain's word, the man soon stopped seizing, last weak tremors still shaking his body for the next few minutes. When he calmed down completely, the chieftain stooped to help him get up but moved back when Reito's eyes shot open, two completely white orbs almost glowing in the dimness of the room.
"I saw Her!"shouted Reito in a great voice. "She came to me in a lilac robe, violet sash gently hugging her hips, her presence enveloping me in a gentle smell of lavender! She came to me and I saw her as I see you here!"
"Right, right, you saw her" came mockingly laughing voices from all over the room. "We know you're a great talker and even greater seer!"
"Chieftain, I am speaking nothing but truth!" continued the man, sitting up and paying no attention to the jeers. "The great Viola-sama came to me and spoke with me as she would with her most faithful follower." His voice, calm and melodic, even if a bit rough from years of drinking, started to weave its spell upon his listeners. He exuded certain charisma which made people listen to him and - more often than not - bend to his opinions and advices. "She came to me and told me: My dear Reito she knows my name, oh what a bliss! My dear Reito, tell your people that I watch over you every day and every minute; I am most pleased with your past deeds and it is my wish to bless you even more in the coming days. I threw myself to her feet, trying to kiss the hem of her robe but she disallowed me, taking a step back and saying it's not necessary. If you really want to express your gratitude, if you want me to grant my blessings upon you - go to the old altar and bring me a gift fit for a goddess."
Some of the tavern's patrons started snickering or even outright laughing.
"Come on, Reito. You've been blind your whole life - how could you see anything? This sour piss you call wine messes with your head!"
"Will you already stop with this whole vision crap! Been there, done that - after doing stuff from your last 'vision' my fields are still bare and my cows give but a quarter of milk a week!"
"Give 'im beer, he's talking good! We need no more Reito's visions!"
Blind Reito bridled up at their comments.
"Do not believe me, if that is your will. But the infidels will be stricken by terrifying blight whilst the faithful followers Viola-sama will reward with abundant blessings! I swear on my mother's grave that I do not lie to you. Nothing is impossible for the great Viola-sama, even to grant a vision to the blind man, even to choose the one that is debased by many to be her humble messenger."
Snickering and whispers gradually wore down and died completely. Basking in this silence, Reito picked up where he left before Fuukans interrupted him.
"And then - after promising her plentiful blessings and graces - Viola-sama has shown me a glimpse of the offering suitable for the great goddess that she is, the perfect sacrifice which we are to bring her to the old altar on the hill, tomorrow afternoon."
Having now full and undivided attention of his listeners back, Blind Reito stopped weaving his yarn for a moment. He wanted to pick up their curiosity and succeeded in it completely, for once again murmurs arose - this time to encourage him to name the sacrifice. And so he proceeded, describing the final portion of his vision.
"In front of me, a girl stood, clothed in snow white robe - a proof of her purity, her waist-long, raven hair hanging free, moved by the blowing wind. And when she turned towards me, gracefully raising her head, I instantly recognised those green eyes, those haunting eyes she got from her mother."
Murmurs intensified - Fuukans were not at all comfortable with sacrificing a human being, much less when the sacrifice was to be one of them. The mention of easily recognisable emerald orbs made them all think of but one person - the girl orphaned very early by both parents, not very popular among villagers due to her cold façade, but still...
But the man speaking held a power over them, never ceasing to cast his spells on them, moulding them to his will. Or rather - to the will of the goddess, revealed to him in the vision.
And soon they followed his lead, snatching the girl from her chores, sparing her no humiliation when they disrobed her publicly to put the ceremonial white robe on the lithe body, and finally leading her to the hill - all of this without a word of explanation.
Stop! Enough! I do not wish to see this any further than that.
I can't believe that. This unimaginable cruelness, this ridiculous sacrifice - all of this because of one drunkard's blabbering. I cannot - I refuse to accept this reasoning. If they only gave me a chance to intervene without breaking too many rules. For, as much as I want to save the girl, there is this part of me which strongly opposes any transgression.
It seems that The One is in a merciful mood today because Fuukan chieftain presents me with a great opportunity to stop them. Raising a burning torch, he claims in great voice:
"Viola-sama! We beg of thee: give us a sign if thou approve of our sacrifice."
Then he starts to lower the torch to set the pyre aflame. But his moves are slow and even a tad shaking as if he was anxious of not getting my approval.
So he wants a sign of my approving this offering and he wants it so badly that he would probably be willing to resign on this sacrificial ceremony if I disapproved. Then let it be.
I withdraw all my powers working in the area, ceasing any influence I might have on the nature. The altar hill becomes surrounded by stillness - not one that foretells of a storm coming, but rather a calm stillness of a morn: of those peaceful moments when gentle breeze wakes up all living creatures.
At first it seems that my decision was right - this unexpected peacefulness makes people anxious. They start to murmur and whisper to one another, and their chieftain raises the torch back. You are right, I do not want your sacrifice. I do not thirst for her blood!
I should know better. After all those years of observing people, I should know that some of them are at least as stubborn as mules and can explain every single phenomenon in a way that suits their plans and visions. Just as I begin to calm down and believe they are going to set the girl free, an enchanting voice rises above the general tumult.
"We wanted a sign, people, and we got it!" shouts from the back the man I recognise as the Blind Reito, the very same drunk that put forth the proposal of this atrocious sacrifice. "Don't you get it? If she had something against, she would show us some force and not send this peace and calm!"
If it is force that you need to get some rational thinking into that thick head of yours, then the force will you get! Without a second thought I discharge a deafening thunder which sends all those fools on the ground.
While they try to get back to their feet, I take a quick look on the girl. I discover that she finally ceased fighting, lying still among the fragrant wood. Yet, when she lifts her eyelids, I am stricken by the pride and defiance shining oh-so-brightly in those tear-glazed green orbs. And I cannot help but adore her even more: this girl trying to face imminent death with as much dignity as she can manage. Others at her place would be by now reduced to whimpering mess of tears and pleas for mercy. But not her. Not my brave maiden.
Smiling at the fire in her eyes, I wonder what she would do when set free. I never get the chance to finish this thought as the drink-hoarsened voice once again resounds on the hill.
"Have you heard that? She agrees with me! Go through with the ceremony, chieftain, and long years of prosperity await our village!"
Still not entirely sure and more than little anxious, the chieftain revives the flames on his torch and without further ado puts it to the pyre. Dry grass and kindling immediately set on fire, crackling happily, flames licking thicker branches.
That is enough, I say! I will not stand those blood-craving fools any longer. Damned be the rules and damned be the punishment that awaits me for breaking them. In a blink of an eye I summon strong northern wind which comes with a raging storm, pouring enormous amounts of freezing cold water with such a fierceness that momentarily puts out the flames and forces people to take cover under the trees. That is - if they managed to get up from the ground, pushed to their knees by the initial onslaught of rain.
One place is saved from this fury - and that is atop of the altar, where the girl stirs with widened eyes, trying to make sense of what is happening around her.
The storm eventually wears down so I shroud the hilltop with thick fog that would cover my taking the girl. No glimpse of the descending goddess for them, cruel humans - not now and not in the next thousand years.
Having sent a deep sleep on the courageous beauty, I step down from my heavenly seclusion and into the human realm. Seeing this pale skin and contrasting with it raven-black hair, for a moment I almost forget about my purpose, enraptured by this uncommon combination of strength and fragility.
The sound of people calling one another brings me back to reality. And when one disaster-bringing voice comes closer and closer to the altar, I start moving faster than human thought. Snatching the unconscious girl from the altar, I cradle her to my chest and step back into heavenly realm, leaving final evidences of my power at the hilltop.
When the mists fall - which will happen in the next few quarters - the Fuukans will see their precious fragrant wood scattered all over the place, the altar of their ancestors cracked in half, and their charismatic Blind Reito half-paralyzed from the stroke.
One may ask - why did I not kill him if I wanted a revenge. I already mentioned that: the giving and taking of life lies not in my domain. And I wanted him to feel for the rest of his life at least a bit of what my girl had to experience during her time at the hilltop. Being partially paralyzed, he will have to rely on others in every moment, every little action of his. Am I cruel? Maybe, but he deserved that.
And now I am standing here, at the threshold of my house, holding this beautiful child in my arms. It occurs to me that in a way Fuukans have succeeded in sacrificing her to me for she cannot go back to the village.
Being a god has its perks - one may be worshipped and be a cause of miracle or two.
But being a god has also its flaws - I do not possess the power of foreseeing the future. Thus I cannot help but wonder: what the upcoming days - hours even - will bring us?
Time for some Author's Ramblings :)
First things firsts: thanks an awful lot to all wonderful creatures of you who took your time to read and some even - oh, what a bliss ;) - to write a review. Reading them I got all giddy, and just a moment later - all down. Like, you know, I started nicely so will I manage to keep the quality and not disappoint and so on.
So, hopefully, this chapter was worth waiting for.
Two warnings - one, uno, eins, ichi: this story is one heck of an experiment for me so anything may happen in terms of universe construction and writing style :P
And the second one - for those who missed the Romance and Shizuru F. & Natsuki K. tags at the top of this page, and the RWP note last chapter - this is going to be kind of yuri or girl on girl love. Do not like - do not read. Nothing really explicit, mostly attempts and suggestions but still...
That should be all... Nope, one more thing: keep your fingers crossed, my Boss is thinking about employing me for a bit longer (which'd mean less worries, more writing ^^).
*no cookies this time 'cause I killed the last batch of choux pastries...*