The three witches chosen for the sacrifice walked away and stood in a row behind the rest of them who made a circle around him. Laila turned towards them and readied herself for the spell. Her body shook with hesitance.

"Do it, sister," said the short-haired witch. "Do not think of this as a sacrifice. Think of it as a pleasure. What better death could one of us have if not in aid of the death of the patriarchy? Of the very men who fuel this patriarchy?"

Laila steadied her hands.

"Light us up, sister!" Bano continued, screaming with glee.

Laila began to chant a spell in a quiet voice. Faizan could feel her tapping into the energy inside him. Whatever spell she was casting, was very powerful.

"Let us be the fireworks for this great night! When the fall of the patriarchy begins!"

Laila roared the last word of the spell and waved her hands in a curved motions towards the three witches. Faizan let out a soft moan as the energy rushed out of him and took the breath out of him.

To Faizan's shock, all of them lit up on fire and they screamed in pain.

But there was also delight in their voice.

They ran ahead, the one in the middle straight while the other two in a slanted curved motion and the fire on their bodies set the corn immediately on fire until their combined firetrails looked like the prongs of a devil's fork. The villagemen, who had been closing in, were temporarily stunned but they still ran towards the flaming witches, like moths to the flame, eager to get their blessings by killing the witches themselves. Some of them even jumped onto the flaming bodies to tackle them until eventually, all of the witches had their flames covered by the bodies of villagemen crawling over them, like insects. He heard Bano screaming all sorts of filthy curses at them which encouraged more of them to attack her.

The fire from the trails was spreading very rapidly but he still could not see why setting the witches on fire had been necessary.

He got his answer when three huge explosions lit up the night sky, sparks flying out all over. The village men’s screams of pain and surprise reverberated all around the fields. Trails of fire from the explosion shot out and made various random patterns, some of them trapping some of the men between them, barricading them until the flames would slowly envelop them.

The villagemen were in disarray and had stopped following them. The witches relaxed their bodies a bit but a cloud of sadness hung over them as they looked towards the sparks that were slowly fading away. They stood and watched the blazing trails turn into a savage fire that enveloped the fields behind them. It was if the witches spirit was within the flames, rapidly going for any man they saw.

“Your sacrifice will never be forgotten, sisters. May you watch over us from the stars” Laila said in a quiet voice before she burst into tears. Most of the other witches wept too and consoled her while the rest hung their heads down in sorrow and respect. They offered quiet prayers and dedications to the martyrs.

Faizan awkwardly stood alongside but he too had his head hung in sadness. He had great respect for the witches’ sacrifice, and did not not care if Bano had been rude to him. Who could blame her after seeing the men in the village?

There was guilt swarming his body and he tried to deal with it. Eventually he turned to Laila and offered a timid apology with a bowed head. “I’m so sorry.”

Most of the witches around her shot looks of anger or indifference at him but Laila smiled. “Do not worry, Faizan. Your presence helps us all and we know you are an ally.”

“I am at your service. If there’s anything you need…”

Laila wiped away her tears. “For now, we need to get to the caves. We must get there fast before the men rally again. Who knows how long that will take.”

And so they made their way ahead, quietly, silently pondering over the events that had taken place. Faizan could feel great respect for the martyrs in the silence and they moved ahead through the corn fields, the stalks now brushing against them more gently. The fire was now rising even higher behind them and to his left he could see the masjid minaar, although it looked more like a porcupine quill now. It had elongated and thickened so much that he could barely make out the tip of it until he focused really hard.

Laila, who had been leading the group, slowly slowed down her pace until she was walking alongside Faizan. He could feel that the energy coming from the quills on her garbs was a lot more powerful than the others.

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“You must be very confused,” she said.

“This whole night had been very confusing,” he replied.

“You will get your answers soon. Great mistakes were made on this night and many lives were lost but this ultimately might lead to a victory we had never foreseen so early. Know that you hold a vital role in this effort of ours.”

“As the Vessel?”

“Yes, you are the Vessel. The dark god we serve chose you as the Vessel.”

“Why did he choose me?”

“Not he, she and we don’t know. We simply follow her will.”

“Why do you serve her? What makes her so special?”

“She is an ethereal being that scours the galaxies, searching for worlds and constellations to collect on her magnificent quills. She is merciful and helps us rebel against God and makes us stronger against his apostles.”

“Many centuries ago, some of our ancestors made a connection with her and she provided us with great strength to fight the patriarchy. Unfortunately, we failed in our fight and the patriarchy prevailed stronger. This time, however, we have realised our mistakes. We realised that in order to win we must make allies with the men and that is what we were doing until…”

“Until what?”

“You will find out soon enough.”

After about half an hour of walking through the fields, he saw a large blackness rising above them that made it seem as if the stars had been swallowed up. However, as they got closer he realised it was simply a small rocky hill. They exited the fields and found themselves on plain rocky ground that led to the side of the hill that stretched ahead to their sides. It was a dead end.

At least, that’s what he thought until Laila approached the solid walls of the hill by whispering some incantations. To his surprise, a cave opening appeared almost instantly. This time, however, his shock lasted mere seconds and he followed the witches through the dark cave that slowly began to fill up with orange light as they made their way ahead. After everything he had gone through, nothing was going to surprise him anymore, no matter how weird or grotesque.

And yet, when he exited the rocky corridors into a cavernous chamber, he was in for a great shock.

The chamber barely had any resemblance to the cave at all. There were all sorts of beautiful lanterns and lamps, some of them levitating, giving off various hues of colours filling the chamber with life, like fairy lights. The walls were covered with exotic fabrics that made the chamber look cozy and welcoming, and he saw various artworks on the wall. The cave chamber was teeming with witches, all of them wearing their own rendition of the porcupine quill garbs, engaged in various activities. He saw groups of them sitting on comfortable looking rugs, talking, resting, discussing, drinking and even... making out with each other? Faizan thought he was seeing things and had to rub his eyes to clear his vision.

He wasn’t wrong.

Groups of them were entangled upon each other, like roots of a large tree, undressing each other, kissing and pleasuring each other in various ways. He felt himself going red at the sight and quickly turned away. How could they be thinking of such a thing when there was so much terror going on outside?

Laila had seen him looking presumably because she stepped up next to him. “War and terror often brings out many emotions in us,” she answered. “Many of them may not ever see each other and so they do their best to make each other happy. It is often in stress when we need pleasure the most.”

“Can’t they just get a room for that then?”

“Why? There is no shame in what they do. You only think it is because you have been taught that it is blasphemous.”

Most of the others sat around a huge, almost life-like statue of a porcupine with huge quills that looked like giant spears. He had noticed it before but when he looked closely he saw that some of the quills bore through the bodies of hundreds of writhing men who groaned in pain as blood dripped down or along the quills down into a large, golden bowl that was filled with blood. He saw some of the witches enjoying the spectacle as they threw curses at the men and laughed at their misery.

He even recognised one of the men impaled on the quills. And the witch in front of him shouting curses.

It was Shikhar and Inaya.

He could not see any resemblance of the sophistication he had seen on Shikhar, who had a look of frenzy on his face and he did not see the broken husk of a woman that Inaya had been after her mother had been killed. Shikhar looked at her with wide open eyes full of hatred as he grabbed onto the quill and pulled to free himself from it. All it did was make him bleed more and he groaned in pain. He kept trying to say something to Inaya but no words came out which seemed to satisfy her. It seemed to him as if she was taking out all of her hate on him. His shalwar was reddened with blood and it made Faizan wonder if the blood belonged to the witches. Was he actually a witch hunter?

“Yes, he is,” he heard a familiar voice answer in his head.

Faizan looked towards the groups of witches that were engaged in orgies. He saw Hina sitting among them, standing out like a beacon of light. She wore porcupine garbs that reached down to her knees and dark makeup that made her look fiercely attractive. She was smiling at him, seemingly unaware of the witches fucking around her.

Faizan ran towards the group to hug her hard. Oh my god, Hina. I thought you were dead. Thank god, you’re alive! I almost didn’t believe it… His thoughts were racing but were interrupted when was held back forcefully by a group of witches. Their arms dug into his ribs pushing the wind out of him a little. The pain that flared inside him made him angry and so he tried to push past them. In response, they grabbed on to his body.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he asked. “Hina! What are they doing? Let me go to her!”

She was looking down awkwardly at her bare feet, as if she felt uncomfortable. Every witch in the chamber had stopped talking and was looking at him. He didn’t care. All he was focused on were her beautiful eyes. He wanted to kiss her.

But she didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, he could sense her getting even more uncomfortable. Something was wrong.

“Hina, what happened? Don’t you love me anymore?” he shouted

“She never did,” he heard another familiar voice from near Hina and turned to see Aleena appear out of the writhing bodies in the orgy. She was wearing the same quill clothing except part of it had been unlatched from her shoulders and a wet, glistening breast was poking out of it. Her hair was all over her face. He felt relieved to see that she was alive and well but his heart dropped at what she had said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Aleena turned to Hina who smiled and swept the hair out of her face gently. Aleena in response pulled onto the quills on her garb into her body and they kissed hungrily.

Faizan felt a bomb explode inside of him, tearing his heartstrings apart, as he watched them press their bodies into each other. He saw Aleena looking at him through the corner of her eye, savouring his reaction until she closed her eyes and moaned when Hina began playing with her nipples.. By the end of it they were both giggling, and Aleena’s hair had fallen in front of her eyes again like it always did. Hina lifted her hand and gently swept the hair away to the side.

There were so many feelings pulling away at his broken heart. Sadness, disbelief, anger, betrayal, all filled up his body and he knew he would’ve broken down there and then if not for the reassuring dark power that was flowing through him. He wasn’t sure how long it would help him stay stable. It was too much for him to accept.

He didn’t get much time to process it either when he felt a needle jab into his arm and felt a warm liquid seep into his veins, putting him to sleep. He turned around to see that it was Laila who had a warm expression on her face. There was also pity in her eyes as she gently lowered his body. He welcomed the feeling of the liquid and her soft motherly touch, letting it kill all the frenzy in his head. Everything went black.