Lissa swayed in the candlelight illuminating the small house. The shadows of the adults around her flickered along the walls as they moved in concert to her. The men in the room hummed, a deep, rumbling sound echoing between the walls. She let her eyes drift back to where the priestess stood at the front of the crowd. She was an old woman. Perhaps the oldest Lissa had ever seen. Her skin was withered with age, and her hair colored a silver that glowed like moonlight. She wore a robe that seemed to be made of feathers plucked from ravens and from her neck dangled a necklace laced through with the skulls of small creatures. Her eyes were locked on the man approaching her, her gaze piercing.
The man didn’t seem to notice, his eyes fixated on the rust-colored altar the priestess stood next to. When he was close enough to touch it, he knelt, head bowed. The priestess stepped toward him and put a hand atop his head. “I see you, Calder,” she said, her voice carrying above the rumbling humming.
Calder raised his eyes, looking up to the tapestry above the altar. It depicted a woman in black, her eyes cast in shadow. In one blood-drenched hand she held a similarly stained dagger at her side. In the other she held an orb, blacker than the darkest shadows. Her lips were curved into a smile, at odds with the tears of blood running down her cheeks. A thickly built creature covered in armored plates lay curled about her feet, seeming content.
“Do you freely give of yourself, to our lady?” The priestess continued.
Calder nodded, swallowing. “I do, Ma’am.”
The priestess held out her hand. Calder raised his own, placing it in hers, palm up. The old woman pulled a long knife from the sheath at her hip, holding it up in the air so that it glimmered in the firelight. “I see you, Reaper. In all our futures, for you are inevitable,” The priestess said, looking across the room as the humming abruptly stopped, drowning them in silence.
Lissa shivered in the quiet, glancing up to the tapestry. She could swear the woman’s grin had deepened. Lissa bit her lip as the priestess held the moment.
The priestess broke the silence, her voice shattering the peace. “To you, our lady, we give this sacrifice. May you delay your coming.”
Lissa watched as she lowered the Knife to Calder’s palm. The man fought the urge to wince as the priestess cut a line into his palm, drawing the blade across its length. Droplets of ruby blood fell from his fingers to the floorboards below. A creature emerged from the shadowed corner of the room. It seemed to mirror the beast wrapped about the woman’s legs on the tapestry. It lumbered forward on four legs, its thick claws digging small furrows in the floorboards. A long tongue flicked from its snout, lapping at the droplets of blood falling to the floor.
Lissa glanced up to her mother, Hilda, standing beside her. There was no alarm in her eyes. To the contrary, she was smiling.
The priestess pushed at it with her foot, trying to get the creature to back away from the proceedings. A few chuckles sounded from the crowd. Eventually the old woman gave up, rolling her eyes as she pressed Calder’s bloody hand to the altar.
The man’s body tensed as the altar pulsed. Every vein along his body went taut, seeming to rise from his flesh. His skin grew paler by the moment as he gasped. Tears began to fall from his eyes as his jaw clenched. From where he touched the altar, a black cloud was spreading across the surface, tendrils seeming to reach outward before fading into stone.
The priestess ripped Calder’s hand from the altar, steadying the man as he swayed, gasping. Lissa held her breath, but after a moment he shook his head and found his footing, returning to the crowd.
The priestess held out her hand as if to ask who was next. Lissa felt her feet carrying her forward, curiosity propelling her. Her mother put a hand on her shoulder, holding her back. Lissa looked up at her, meeting her dark eyes. There was a smile in them, but her head shook with a firm ‘no’.
Lissa didn’t let her disappointment show. She was fourteen years old, nearly a woman in her own right. She should’ve been able to choose. Lissa crossed her arms as a woman from the crowd stepped forward, the deep humming from the men starting once more. She watched as four more people went through the ritual, the altar darkening each time.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The creature seemed to lose interest in lapping up the stray drops of blood and lumbered into the crowd. People reached out to pet it, scratching the creature between its thick scales. It trilled in pleasure, a soft sound but one that carried over the humming. The priestess shot it an annoyed glance but did nothing to stop it as she saw to the next sacrifice.
Lissa watched as it stomped in her direction. All her fear of it had fled in the face of how cute it was. Its beady, black eyes seemed to lock onto her as it stomped across the floorboards, the wood bending beneath its weight. Her mother reached out and caressed its snout as it neared. It flicked its long tongue, wrapping it around her forearm. Her mother’s expression soured as she pulled her arm away, wiping at the spittle.
Lissa stifled a chuckle before reaching out to the creature herself. Its thick, black scales were cool to the touch as she ran her hand across them. Her eyebrows raised as they began to rapidly warm and shake. People in the crowd began to stare and Lissa froze. All at once, the creature’s scales snapped upright and a warmth began to radiate across the room, stifling in the confined space. The beast trilled in pleasure.
Lissa grinned, a feeling of connection running between her and the strange creature. She looked up at her mother. There was a mixed look of awe and horror in her expression.
Lissa squealed as her mother grabbed her arm, ripping it from the creature, as she dragged her though the crowd which parted in confusion. Lissa looked over her shoulder as her mother yanked the door outside open, letting in a rush of cool air. The creature was reared on its hind legs, standing nearly as tall as a man. It reached out to her with one claw in a disturbingly human fashion. Behind it, the priestess was pushing her way through the crowd as quickly as her old bones could move.
The woman’s eyes locked with Lissa. “Wait,” she cried.
The door slammed shut behind Lissa as she and her mother stumbled out onto the streets of the Outwalls. For a moment, the sunlight was blinding, and Lissa struggled to keep up as her mother pulled her down the frosted streets at a brisk pace. Lissa looked behind them as the house receded, then disappeared around a corner.
***
Hilda walked at a brisk pace, fear driving her onward as she clutched her daughter’s arm. She wasn’t sure where she was taking them, only that she wanted to distance them from what happened. Passersby shot curious gazes in their direction, some likely considering them easy marks before realizing who they were. Divines, there were Sons in that room. Marc would know what Lissa had done before long. If Marc knew, he would tell James. Her husband would be furious. And worse, she could already see the pain of betrayal in his eyes.
Lissa began to resist her pull and Hilda blinked, realizing she was digging her nails into the girl’s arm. Hilda released her. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Lissa rubbed at her arm then shivered. “You forgot our cloaks,” she said.
Hilda blinked, realizing Lissa was right. They couldn’t afford a new pair. “I’ll get them later, hon. Let’s just go home.”
Lissa took a step away from her, shaking her head. “Not until you tell me what happened.”
Hilda swallowed the lump in her throat. “You have to let me tell your father first.”
Lissa frowned, then nodded her assent. Hilda took a deep breath, looking down the street. The filth ridden road looked much like any other in the Outwalls. It teemed with hungry faces in layers of ratty clothes. Some were on their way to provide unskilled labor in the foundries of the inner city, others to work as porters for the hundreds of merchant ships that passed through the port daily. Both paid a pittance.
After a moment, she spotted Lissa’s shadows. A pair of large men dressed in thick leather armor lounged against the wall of snow lining the road. They met her gaze, one raising a quizzical eyebrow at her as if to ask, ‘the fuck you doing?’.
Hilda sighed. She wished she knew. She turned back to Lissa, satisfied that the pair were too far away to hear their conversation, and ushered her to the side of the road. She wished she never brought Lissa there, wished that she had listened to James. She convinced herself that the girl should have the right to learn her own people’s religion. It was dangerous to openly practice with the occupation, but he never imagined- this.
Hilda took a deep breath, steadying herself. “That creature you touched was a Keeper. They’re sacred to the Reaper. And-”
Lissa cut her off, “What do they keep?”
Hilda blinked, surprised by the question, but a smile crossed her lips at her daughter’s curiosity. “Souls. If one gets lost on its way to our lady, they can supposedly return them to her embrace.”
Lissa’s eyes widened a fraction. “And what happened when I touched it?”
Hilda bit her lip, nearly drawing blood. “I don’t know the specifics of it, but it means you have the aptitude to be a priestess. A real one who can carry out the rituals.” Hilda ran a hand through her hair. “It’s very rare,” she finished, pushing down her welling fear. It was even rarer since the Venarans outlawed it, slaughtering the clergy. There were only a handful remaining after all these years.
Lissa was quiet, her gaze thoughtful. Hilda looked down the street to where their shadows waited patiently. A shiver ran down her spine that wasn’t related to the cold. “Come on. Let’s get home before we freeze.”
Lissa nodded absently, following as Hilda began to walk.
“Mom,” Lissa called out.
Hilda paused, looking over her shoulder.
“What if I want to learn to be one?”
Hilda’s mouth worked silently, the image of her daughter getting her wings coming unbidden to her mind. In the end, she said nothing, turning away and beginning the walk home.