“Don’t forget your parchment Elloneth. It is bad luck to not bring your own.” My mother nags.
As I look out of the window and watch the sun fade in the distance, I am reminded of what day it is. “Yes, Mother.”
Without wasting time, I take my quill and scribble my name onto a newly pressed piece of parchment. Folding my note in half was painful, as I had spent most of the day making it perfectly flat.
Turning to meet my Mother at the door, I see my Father speaking to her softly. No doubt calming her nerves.
When my Father’s eyes lock with mine, he smiles sweetly. “I was just explaining to your Mother that there is little to no chance of your name being called. This year, we did not hold many wedding ceremonies, so there are a plethora of women to pick from. The Dragon of the Mountain spoke to me in meditation, and I have a strong feeling we will not be saying goodbye today.”
That makes one of us. Every year that I must enter to be the Dragon sacrifice, I nearly die in fear of hearing my name. But my Father is right, my chances of staying alive are very high. At least I have that comfort.
As the three of us walk out to the village square, nearly everyone has gathered. The families and virgin maidens are separated, forcing me to part from my parents. Tightly my Mother embarrassed me with every bit of strength she could muster.
“M-Mother I can’t breathe,” I mutter. She pulls away quickly, her eyes glassy with sorrow. She does this every time.
“Kind townsfolk! Please take your places! The ceremony is about to begin!” Hearing the ritual instructor jolted me with urgency.
One by one, every eligible maiden places a piece of paper names into the sacred golden bowl before the elder council. Walking up to them, I feel my palms begin to sweat with nerves. As I carefully place my name among the others, one of the elders nods at me with a thin smile. His grey hooded robe was made of fine satin that glimmered, even in the worst of light. The council is highly respected in the village, so it is only natural for them to be dressed like it.
Joining the crowd, I feel a small droplet of water hit and rush down my cheek. Looking up at the sky, I can see the clouds are warped in shades of blue and grey. It is as if the earth is showing its sorrows on this traditional day.
One of the Elder council members called our attention. “Long ago, before humans walked the earth, Dragons were the dominant species. They created this world and all the living creatures in it. Today we give thanks to the great Dragon spirit who protects this land by offering a maiden pure of heart and soul. In exchange the Dragon of the mountain will bestow unto us a fruitful harvest, and protection again all of the evils of this world…”
They make this speech every year. Reminding us of the sacrifices 'significance’. The elder council is stuck in the old ways, praying to Dragons like gods, but I know better. It makes me sick to see a girl be taken away from her family and friends to be killed in the name of tradition. The looks on their faces as their loved one is being taken away... It’s heartbreaking. Who’s to say that Dragons even exist? To this day neither me nor anyone in my village has even set their eyes on a Dragon. If they did exist, they died long before any of us were even born.
“Please retrieve the sacred bowl.” One of the Elder council staff acts on his orders. Carefully the servant lifts the golden basin and lifts it high to the council. Watching carefully, I can feel everyone in the crowd holding their breath. Anticipation thickens the air like a stormy fog. I swallow hard as I watch the elder council member open the paper, reading the name to himself.
Please… not me… Don’t let it be me…
“Elonneth Nothrei, you have been chosen by the holy Dragons of our land as an offering of prosperity and peace! Please step forward!”
At that moment, my heart stops. Every muscle freezes, waiting for this nightmare to end. But, this is no nightmare. There is no waking up from this. Only death awaits me now.
Hearing my name called, every person in my village turns to me. One by one, they part away, clearing a path to the elder council. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. If I tried to make a break for it, it would only make things worse. I would aggravate the elders, and they would most likely beat me into submission. If I go quietly, I can at least die with my head held high.
A scream rings out. The echoes of my mother’s cry are indistinguishable. Never in my nineteen years of living on this earth, have I heard her cry out in such a way. Walking to the council, I feel my knees buckle under the weight of my fate. Seeing my mother distraught in my father's arms is too much to bear. It takes everything in me not to shed tears, or beg for mercy. I clench my fist, staving off the emotions raging in my heart.
“My child.” One of the elders says, reaching out his hand. “Today, you become the daughter of the great Mountain Dragon. You honor us all this day, in securing the future of this village.”
With so many emotions flooding my thoughts, I can’t bring myself to respond. I just stand there, still, like the ancient Dragon statues in my village.
“This crown of Dragonthorn flowers represents your value to the mighty Dragon of the Mountain. May he treasure you, as we do.” I close my eyes as I feel the soft petals tickle my forehead.
“Please take the parents to the banquet house, for their celebratory meal. They shall dine like royalty!” My mother’s cries only grow louder as the council guards approach. Every parent has a different reaction when their daughter is chosen to be sacrificed. One thing that is always certain is at least one of them tries to rescue their child. The elder council created this ‘banquet house’ tradition in order to distract them and keep a close eye on them. Once they enter the dining house, they are not allowed to leave for weeks after, guaranteeing their child’s death by the Dragon's claws. More likely they will die of starvation. From what I have heard, the house has everything you could imagine. Some say there is even a bathhouse inside. But, I doubt that everything in the world could be enough to forget your child is dead.
Before my parents are taken away, I gaze deep into their eyes for the last time and mouth the words… I love you.
I wish that moment lasted longer, but there was one last thing I needed to do before my death: the offerings.
“As our Dragon daughter takes her place on the sacrificial throne, anyone may offer her a gift of appreciation.” Each member of the council circled around me, herding me to the last chair I will sit on. The gold throne is the same as I remember. Dragons were engraved on the arms as well as the top of the back. Each Dragon eye was filled with precious gemstones and the scales with iron and steel.
Once I sat, each villager approached with an offering of their choosing. Mostly food and wine, but a few of the more wealthy villagers brought jewels and gold. While I do not get to keep these gifts, they are given to my parents as a replacement for their loss. Seeing the gold ingots at my feet makes me smile. With all of these valuables, my parents will want for nothing for the rest of their days. I cherish this moment of happiness, for I fear it will be my last.
Once there were no more offerings, The council ended the ceremony with a prayer, placing the perfume of Dragonthorn oil between my brows. Just outside the village entrance, I see a carriage waiting to take me to my execution. With the elder councilors’ fragile demeanor, their guards have taken on the responsibility of escorting the sacrifice to the base of the mountain.
“Your hands, please.” One of the guards says, holding a thick rope. Doing as I am told, I lift my hands to him, bringing my wrists together. This is yet another new tradition to make sure no girls attempt to escape. The guard pulls the rope tightly around my hands, nearly cutting off the circulation to them.
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Once my restraints are secure, I am taken to the carriage. Hearing the slam of the coach door, I look out to the village and see all of the people whom I grew up and interacted with. In a temporary moment of weakness, tears emerge from my eyes, as I imagine what my life could have been. I could have been a wife, a mother, maybe even sold handmade bread in the market. All of these things are now dreams, and that is all they will ever be.
When the carriage begins to move, I feel my face go numb. This is happening. This is really happening. The mountain is not far, but every second feels like an eternity. Part of me wishes they would just get this over with and put me out of my misery. Out of the two options of death that are to befall me, I wonder, which is more painful: being eaten by a Dragon or starving to death?
“Let’s go.” The guard orders.
I was in such deep thought that I hadn’t noticed the carriage had stopped. The guard who was escorting me is waiting patiently by the open door beside me, but my body feels like a ton of bricks. Taking the rope bound to me, he yanks it, pulling me to my knees. The ground was dry and brittle, much like how I am feeling at this very moment.
“Move” he barks.
Wanting to avoid being dragged to my sacrificial altar, I stand and walk slowly behind him. The forests nearing the mountain are quiet and still. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make out any other sounds outside of the two of us. We are completely alone.
As I lay eyes on the base of the mountain, I take in the jagged rocks scaling the large peak before me. The hardened earth looked as sharp as the edge of a sword. I can’t imagine anyone has climbed this mountain and lived to tell the tale.
A shallow cave with a pike made of iron and stone greets us at the base of the mountain. As I am pulled closer, my heart sank to my stomach. Along the mountain's edge are scattered the bones of the past sacrifices. There are too many to count, and most of them are broken apart in pieces. Just the sight of it makes me sick to my stomach.
Feeling nauseous, I scramble over to the side of the path and vomit the last bit of food I will ever have. My body relieving itself sent itself into a panicked sweat. This is happening - I am about to become one of those corpses. Here, my flesh will rot. Crows will pick at the morsels of my carcass till I am picked clean, leaving my frail bones to dry into dust.
It doesn’t take the guard long to grow impatient. After the last of my dry heaving, he continues to pull at my wrists toward the empty cave. With ease, the guard ties the end of my rope to a large iron ring hanging from the stone pike. Seeing this final nail into my coffin forces desperation into my lungs.
“Please don’t do this! Look around you. These women saw no dragon. They died of starvation in the name of tradition! You can change this… you can save a life today. I won’t return to the village. I will go far away from where the elder council will never find me. No one will ever know.”
The guard shows no empathy as he continues to seal my restraints. “Please! I beg you! I have so much life left to live! It can’t end here!”
A glimmer of hope sparks in my heart as the guard looks into my eyes. Please… show me mercy…
But, he walks away, disappointment shoving me to the ground. Tears and sobs burst from every pore in my body. He probably has seen girls begging for their lives every year and gave me the same response. I am just one of the thousands of other women who will die needlessly, for a Dragon that doesn’t exist. I continue to break down as I hear the carriage drive away, leaving me to grieve for my soul, utterly and completely, alone.
🐲
Any sleep that I did have my first night was unpleasant and uncomfortable. The night brings with it a cold chill in the air, along with bugs that look to get a taste of what I had to offer. The darkness brings me into a state of depression and hopelessness that I have never experienced. My heart and mind want to destroy each other, just in an effort to make my racing thoughts stop.
The sunrise wakes my eyes from my inner darkness, along with the hunger rubbing in my stomach. Since I had thrown up the food I had eaten yesterday, my mouth is as dry as sand. What I would give for a drink of water.
In my household, it was my responsibility to fetch fresh water from the well every day. My parents were older and frail, so, as their only child, it was natural to take on that responsibility. At times, it was an irritating chore, especially in the summer months. However, given my current circumstances, I would give anything to fetch fresh water, even in the blazing heat.
As I watch the sunrise, I feel the landscape begins to warm up from the cold evening. The sun hitting my face feels like a pleasant hug from the heavens. I bask in the sunlight, taking in every moment I could. Daybreak is the first thing that has brought me any kind of joy since my sentence. I want to savor it.
Time is impossible to track. I have no hourglass, sundial, or oil lamp to monitor the moments passing me by. All I had was the sun rising and setting. In order to maintain my sanity, I take my index finger and mark a single straight line into the dirt beside me.
“This will be my calendar,” I say to myself.
If I don’t carry a conversation, I fear I may go mad. There is no one else but me who can fill this survival need. Even if I sound insane, talking to myself is better than talking to no one.
As the sun reaches its peak in the sky, my hunger grows to an unignorable level. The raging in my abdomen turns and pulls, begging for sustenance. Smelling the Dragon Thorn crown on my head, I take it in my hands and count the number of flowers weaved into it.
“One, two, three, four, five.” Five flowers are all the food I have. I need to use it wisely. The more time I buy, the more I have a chance of finding a way out of this. Placing the crown to my lips, I tear off one of the bulbs with my teeth. Gnashing my teeth, I chew vigorously until it was small enough to swallow. As the flower makes its way to my gut, my palette takes in every ounce of flavor possible. The Dragon Thorn is tangy and bitter with a slight peppery texture from the seeds. I have never eaten a flower before, and I have to say that it was not terrible. Looking at the remaining four yellow blossoms, my instincts are to eat all of them right then and there, but listening to reason, I put them aside to save for another day.
Feeling the heat from the sun, I assume it must be midday. The temperature causes my restraints to inflame my wrists with a burning, scratching sensation. In desperation, I use the stone pike to ease my torment. Slowly, I rub my wrists up and down the warm rock, pushing away the prickling itch on my skin. Looking at the rope as my only obstacle from freedom sparks a rage inside me. With my teeth, I begin to gnaw away at the twine like a crazed animal. But to no avail, my human fangs are no match for the tough fibers that bound my fate.
Leaning against the pike, I raise my head taking deep relaxing breaths. I want to enjoy breathing for as long as I can. If I make it out of this alive, I will never take breathing for granted ever again.
As my mind starts to drift, I feel slumber creeping over me. However, just as I am about to surrender into a deep sleep, I am woken up with the sound of loud chewing. Darting my eyes to the noise, I see a small deer with my Dragon Thorn flowers in its mouth.
“No! What are you doing?! That is mine!” I lunge at the animal in an attempt to rescue my food supply, but my loud voice startles the animal, causing it to run away in fear, taking my flowers with it.
“Come back here!” The deer pays no attention to my pleas, much like the guard who abandoned me here.
“Stupid deer…”
Looking down at the animal tracks, I spot one small yellow flower that is left behind. My mouth begins to water at the sight as if it were my mother's fresh braised stew. Crawling towards the Dragon Thorn, I reach out with my bound hands and just barely grab it with my fingertips.
Fearful of losing the last of my flowers, I devour the last remaining bite I have left.
🐲
Tracing my finger in the soil again, I mark my third day in the mountain cave. The clouds are dark and grey, much like the day I was chosen as the sacrifice. It doesn’t take long for the rain to leak from the sky, feeding everything with hydration except for me. The hunger has become so painful, that I am now numb to it. But, as I watched the rain coat the forest, my throat begins to burn for even just one small drop.
It was in weather like this that my father would sing me to sleep. As a child, I was often so frightened of the thunder and lightning that I was unable to rest at night. When I couldn’t sleep, he would tuck me in gently and sing to me an old children’s lullaby. How did it go?
“Dragon of the Mountain, love and protect this land. Bring us peace and honor, with anything you may have planned. Come forth an ancient one, and guide us to greatness. So that we protect your creation, in faithfulness.”
My off-key voice echoes off the walls of my rocky prison. Not long after my song, a slow roaring rumble descended from the mountain above. The ground began to shake beneath me as I watched large rocks tumble to the ground. A landslide?
Taking my hands, I cover my head, protecting myself from any fallout that may do me harm. The falling rock sounds only grew louder with each passing second. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew in from the cave's opening, pushing small bits of water and dirt into my eyes. Quick to react, I rub my face to restore my vision.
When I open my eyes, my jaw drops in astonishment. The large wingspan, dark brown and green scales, bright golden eyes, tall as the mountain itself...
There was no mistaking it. The beast before me was a Dragon. The fabled Dragon of the Mountain.