Sacrificed

She wanted to escape... far from the kingdom, where every year at Summer Solstice a citizen was sacrificed to the Serpent who lived in the lake, whom had been there since the very start of time.

"Iridescent mist rings the lake

Though calm on the surface,

A memory of hate,

Taints the air up to this very day,

Summer's peak, when sacrifice is made.

 

Graceful silver stretch and rise,

Silver jaws snapping, snapping high.

What pale sun peeks through morning sky

Catches the glimpse of Death's very eye.

 

Serpent rears back, roars once and strikes,

Tearing through everything with her deadly might.

Screams of terror fill the air:

"No! Please stop! This isn't fair!"

 

Silver stretches over, and closes its jaws.

Ending the screams and the terrible calls.

It sinks back to water and soon everything is still.

No hint at all of its latest kill.

 

But under that dreadful silver outside

A princess's spirit still lives, still hides.

A curse to turn back what had went wrong.

Woven from gold, but a legend long gone.

 

And maybe, just maybe, the bracelet shall be found.

And the two bands shall exchange on the serpent's ground.

And maybe, just maybe, she shall return.

For as soon as she comes, we shall all learn.

 

The nature of her captive, to what reason he has found.

To take our sun from our skies, the sky from the grounds.

And maybe, just maybe, we may rest at last.

Freed from that sacrifice the serpent has cast.

 

And maybe, just maybe, all shall be well.

For our land and our people and to the ones who have fell.

And the serpent, the serpent, is silver like the moon.

But that silver is missing, and it's now only gloom.

 

We pray you to come back, we miss you still.

We pray you to come back, to our lands and our mills.

We pray that the bracelets, the bracelets will change.

We pray that the moon shall once again hang.

 

And if the air shall, the lake shall, taint with hate.

And if this curse shall lift on this very day.

Summer's peak, summer's peak, when sacrifice is made.

We pray that you shall return, in the skies you again lay."

 

The voices died down, and the silver birches waved against the blank night sky.  Lily's hand was numb, having gripped the branch for nearly an hour. Her long chestnut hair fell down her back, and she dared not to breathe, in fear that the singers would hear her. 

She let her hand draw away from the birch branch, and the warmth of the song drained away from her. Instead, a bitter wind snapped across her face, filling her with cold. She shivered and drew the scarf closer to her.

One by one, the singers sighed, and their mournful faces lifted to the sky, where there was still no moon. The stars blinked blindly, the night seemed blank and dull. The singers sighed once again, and sat down, gazing at the blank expanse of water which formed the lake, a mile downhill from here. The air was quiet once more, and everything held still, as if grieving for what could have been.

The tension in Lily's shoulders faded, and she was lulled by the gentle lapping of waves against shore into a half-sleep. Her eyes closed halfway, and only a line of black and blue formed the dreaded lake, where she could imagine the serpent... the serpent rising out of the water and into the air...

Lily felt a shiver of dread down her back. Tomorrow was the Sacrifice. She grappled for the same handhold she had found when the song had started and found it, still warm from where her hand had gripped it. She let out a breath, then felt a foothold for her right foot. Slowly, agonizingly, she made her way down the birch, and let herself fall onto the warm soil below.

The wind stung her eyes, and she stood up unsteadily, the magic of the song already gone from her body. She brushed the hair away from her emerald eyes, then started down the path back home, worn down by years and years of footsteps.

The clouds shivered and the first drops of rain fell. The sky rolled into a dark, thundering mass, though no lightning shattered the thick blanket of clouds to cast shadows upon the ground. Lily continued down the path, wrapping her scarf around her tighter, walking faster as the rain, still plunking, fell harder, turning the soil underfoot from brown to black, creating a new kind of music, one of sorrow and of anger.

Lily brushed the rainwater off her face and tucked a thin strand of hair behind her ear. Thunder rumbled, and she quickened, her footsteps pounding in her ears, the eerie melody of the rain ringing through the night. She looked back. The singers were still gathered around the lake, staring across the dark surface, as if wondering what could have been different.

Tomorrow. The Summer Solstice. The time of the sacrifice. Lily herself looked at the lake, which was now churning, parting to take the drops of rain falling like tears into its surface.

Thunder rumbled, and the wind wailed, like it was sobbing for the fate of the one whom would be chosen the next day, chosen to face the Serpent... alone. The storm was a symphony of grief. Lily held back her own tears, then turned her face to the sky.

The moon had still not appeared.

 

 

"If I get sent to the Island, I will kill the serpent and rid the kingdom of evil."

"If you know what you are facing and do not take this as a joke, we would all be in peace."

Lily trudged ahead of her family, her shawl tied around her shoulders and head, covering her chestnut hair and part of her face. She shielded her emerald eyes against the unseen sun, whose glare was still strong even hidden behind the cover of stormy gray clouds.

The day was humid and hot, her least favorite climate. Thunder and lightning and rain did not prove an obstacle on this day, but the muddy path, wet and untamed from the storm last night, did. She lifted her skirts and picked her feet from the ground gingerly, avoiding the puddles of cloudy brown water and helping her little brother, Jonathan, over the largest patches of water.

"Don't you think so, Lily?" Jon asked loudly. "Don't you think I can kill the Serpent?"

Lily saw her mother, who was leading the way, tense her shoulders and walk faster, her dark blond hair swinging wildly, her shawl rolled up and held in her left hand. The Serpent and the Sacrifice was not a laughing matter. It was a matter of life and death. "Jon," Lily said, helping her brother over another puddle, "do not make jokes about such things."

Jon frowned and bit his lip, his hazel eyes clouded with confusion. "Why not?"

Lily winced, seeing her mother turn right and continue through a path between the pine grove and the birches. "Jon," she replied, "let us not talk about such things."

"I have asked you, Lily, why not? Today is the Sacrifice. If the Serpent is not killed, what shall we do?"

"None of your business," Lily's older brother, Tom, hissed. "Jonathan, this is not a laughing matter. The Sacrifice and the Serpent is not as easy as it may seem."

Lily steered her youngest brother after her mother, whom had already vanished at a left turn. Samuel, her oldest brother, threw a doubtful glance at Jon. Tom slowed and let Sam catch up. Sam raised his green eyes and took in the sight of Lily, who was lifting Jon over another puddle. Glancing up, she saw that the sky had miraculously cleared up, leaving only a blinding sun and a sky of pure blue.

"Let us talk about different things," Sam said quietly, his head full of blond hair lowered once more. Tom nodded.

"Yes, let us," he said somewhat forcedly. "Something different."

Lily gestured for the boys to turn left. Their mother had stopped and had turned towards them. "Please, children, please hurry." The dappled sunlight threw soft golden shadows onto her pale face, and her emerald eyes seemed to catch the light, creating flecks of the sunlight in the faces of her four children. Her face, though weathered and wrinkled with grief and age, seemed youthful in the forest, under the kaleidoscope of cyan, gold, and bright green.

Lily felt a warmth reach up inside her body at the sight of her mother's smile, the first that day. However exhausted her mother may be, she was still beautiful, her face almost white in the forest, her black tunic sparkling softly under the sunlight.

"Lily," she said, "help Jonathan. Tommy, Samuel, come. You are both old enough to draw for yourselves."

Samuel nodded wordlessly and trudged on, his hazel eyes almost closed in prayer. Tommy followed, his dark brown hair flashing every few moments in a patch of sunlight, his emerald eyes blinking uncertainly. If Lily strained to hear, she could make out the distant sounds of the lake, the song of mourning coming from the bank, like birdsong against the sky.

The path sloped, and Lily took Jon's tiny hand, hoping that her younger brother would not be the one to be Sacrificed, hoping that none of her family would be sacrificed to the dreaded Serpent out in the lake. Jon laughed, jumping over the puddles and tree roots by himself now, and Lily ran on after him, down the path to the lake, and she could see the seemingly endless stretch of blue water, reflecting the sky, flecks of gold gently teasing every rising wave.

"Look! Look at the lake, Lily! Look at how big it is!" Jon smiled, and Lily was suddenly filled with the desire to sweep Jon up into her arms, to run back to the village, to cry into her blankets as she had this morning. She wanted to escape from the terrible beauty of the lake, to run into the mountains far away, far from the kingdom, where every year at Summer Solstice a child was sacrificed to the Serpent who lived in the lake, whom had been there since the very start of time.

The shore was crowded with citizens, women hugging men, men hugging children, children hugging each other and sobbing, sobbing, the only sound anywhere. The lake churned once, and, as one panicked wave, the citizens lurched back, gasping, sobbing. Children of all ages were swept into their mothers arms, and everyone was silent, everyone was holding their breath, everyone was not daring to move, not daring to run.

"Welcome!" A single call echoed among the mountains as far as the end of the lake, among the forests far to the south. Bernard Huntington, the man who ran the Sacrifice, was standing at the edge of the lake, so close to the lake that the water lapped against his heels, so close that everyone feared the serpent would rear up and devour him instead.

Everyone began sobbing anew, clinging to their children, not daring to look at the lake, where there was that possibility they would meet their dooms there.

Lily continued down the pebbly shore, following Tommy's bobbing brown head, Samuel's headful of blonde hair, her mother's distinct form finding a place far away from Mr. Huntington.

"Oh, please, no sobbing!" Mr. Huntington called. "No sobbing nor crying! Please remember the rules! Eldest member of the family draws for every other member under thirteen! Everyone thirteen or above draws for him or herself!" He shouted out the rules like they were naughty children. Lily felt a deep loathing for the man, in his bright red tunic, maniacal brown eyes, and scratchy red beard and hair. He was treating this all like a joke.

Slowly, a woman shuffled forth. She had soft brown eyes and a head full of curly brown hair. Lily recognized her as Mrs. Pirorist, the widow of Mr. Hamilton Altinton. She held her newborn baby, Benny, in her arms, and Jack and Tim, her sons of ages eighteen and sixteen, trailed behind, clutching each other. Jon gripped Lily's shawl, and Lily shifted him to one arm while unfastening the thin black cloth, letting Jon play with it.

"Ah, Olivia!" Mr. Huntington cried. "Good day to you!" He smiled with his mouthful of rotten black teeth, and produced a battered black box from the depths of his cloak. The whole crowd held their breath as he gestured towards it like a gruesome maitre'd and flipped open the top. Several hundred pieces of ripped paper was held inside, three-hundred forty-one, Lily knew, for that was the number of villagers in the whole settlement.

Mrs. Pirorist shut her eyes and drew out two pieces of paper, her breath coming in laboring gulps. Jack's hands shook as he plunged his right hand into the papers and plucked out a slip, and Tim gritted his teeth, his fist clenched around another one.

The pounding of her heart wrapped into the dull, rhythmic splash of the water, and Lily heard the strange, foreign thrumming in her ears, drumming louder and louder as more and more citizens approached the black chest, as more and more citizens drew out slips of paper, clutching them tightly like lifelines, holding them close to their hearts, their eyes closed, their lips murmuring in prayer, their bodies shaking.

Lily's mother turned her head slowly towards her family, taking in Sam's hazel eyes and blond hair, Tom's dark brown head and his bottle green eyes, Lily's chestnut hair and her eyes similar to Tom's, and Jon, who laughed, his hazel eyes bearing no heaviness, no sign of anxiousness or fear of the coming Sacrifice, his dark blonde hair waving slightly with the salty breeze from the lake.

"Come, children," she said slowly, and started down the bank. Mr. Huntington nodded, and gestured to the chest, where five slips of fine white paper lay at the bottom of the dark wood.

Please, thought Lily. Out of three-hundred and forty-one slips of paper, please don't have the red dot on one of them. Please. Our luck can't be that bad...

Everyone's eyes were on them. Everyone watched as their family made their way down the damp slope, down the gravel and pebbles and sand, and to the box. Lily's mother turned to her daughter, and Lily nodded, holding Jon to her chest.

"Go on!" Mr. Huntington said merrily, his potbelly wobbling. "Go on, Astrid."

Lily's mother murmured a silent prayer, then took three strips from the bottom of the box. Sam reached in and drew another one. Tom picked up the last slip.

"Mother," Lily whispered. She held out her hand for her and Jon's slip. Her mother studied her face, then nodded and dropped two slips of paper into her palm.

"Jon," Lily said. She removed the shawl from her brother's hands and instead put the slim slip of paper into them.

"Alright, everyone!" Mr. Huntington called cheerfully. "Open up!" His own hands were free from any slip of paper, being the operator of the Sacrifice. He slammed the lid shut ominously, and Tom was the first one to rip open his slip, letting out a sigh of thankfulness as his paper was free of any red dot.

Lily watched Jon unfold his, and she smiled with relief as she realized he too was not going to be the one Sacrificed. Sam trembled as he unfolded his, and he closed his eyes and thanked the gods that they had not doomed him. Lily's mother also unfolded hers, and she smiled, for the second time that day, as she saw that she didn't have a red dot on it, either.

Everyone had unfolded theirs. Everyone but Lily. Slowly, the crowd began stirring, examining slips of paper, asking who got the dot, trying to figure out the Sacrifice. Lily's palms were slick with sweat. No, nobody had the slip. Nobody had the dreaded slip. Her paper fluttered to the ground like a white butterfly, drifting to the earth.

A gust of wind blew by, and all of a sudden it was revealed. Her slip was marked with red, the red paint Mr. Huntington had used to mark the paper. Lily was vaguely aware of her body collapsing onto the ground, falling hard, landing sitting upright. She saw the paper, in all its terrible whiteness, stained with red like a drop of blood. She heard the mournful song of the wind, sweeping up the slip of paper, carrying it with the breeze, blowing her long, chestnut hair back, gathering up the paper, which fluttered and flapped, turning like a dove, a dove which had been shot down, a stain of blood spreading across its chest.

She saw the red dot once more, her mother's terrified face, the realization of the crowd, heard Mr. Huntington applaud her. Jon's eyes widened, Tom looked horrified, crystal tears dropped out of Samuel's hazel eyes.

"Lily..." Her mother was frozen, the wind snagging her long, beautiful hair. "Lily..." But there was nothing to be said.

It was clear. She was to be Sacrificed.

 

 

Lily's father had been the best father anyone could have had. He had chestnut hair, like hers, and hazel eyes. It seemed to be pure luck that she got his hair. It was wavy, like the lake, and shone softly under the sun. When her father was still, alive, they would stand together, hugging each other, and Lily would marvel at his hair, how it looked almost exactly like hers.

Her father had died the same way Lily knew she was about to die in. He had drawn the very same slip of paper she had, ten years ago, and had been Sacrificed to the Serpent in the lake. Lily had been two years old, yet she still remembered the scream of anguish her mother had released, remembered the warm slip of paper in her little toddler hands, remembered Mr. Huntington (with a smaller potbelly, but still looking the same) applauding him, and how Sam, who had been six at that time, gasp, and Tommy, who had been three, burst into tears... Tommy, who was so brave now, burst into tears.

He had been Sacrificed at midnight, dragged under the water. He had put up a fight, thrashing, kicking, hammering the silver scales of the Serpent with his bare hands.

But, in the end, he drowned in the lake, and was dragged under the surface of the Lake by the Serpent. Lily's father was a subject that her family never talked about. Jon had never known his father. That was all for the better. It would be crazy to set upon him the burden of grief, pain, and anger they had carried for ten years. Lily's family just shut Jonathan Senior out of their minds.

Lily prayed every night to her father's spirit. She prayed that he was happy, if he could hear her. She prayed that he still loved their family and loved the son he had never known. She prayed that all would be well, and that they would see each other again.

Lily found her mother in her room, staring at the photograph of the family placed on her bedside table. Her father, in all his pride and happiness, stood at the left, her mother at the right. Astrid had never looked so happy. Sam, five years old, and Tommy, two at that time, each clung to their parents' hands, and Lily, one years old, whom had just began to walk, was in Astrid's arms, clinging to her neck.

"Lily."

Her mother's voice sounded terrible. Her eyes were red, and her dark blonde hair ran down her shoulders like a widow's shawl.

"Mother."

And, suddenly, Lily was in her mother's arms, sobbing, and Astrid was crying, too, her tears running down Lily's hair, her shoulders. Lily felt her mother's arms locked around her, how they were so strong, steady, desperately wanting to keep her only daughter near her. Lily heard the warm thrumming of her mother's heart, felt her chest heave as she sobbed... she knew that they were thinking the same thing: of her father, Jonathan Senior, whom had died loving his family.

Lily wanted to never let go of her mother, to stay there, near her heart, hear her mother's voice, her warm arms grasping her... she never wanted to let go of her family, Sam, Tom, and Jon, whom had never known his father.

But it was Astrid whom drew away from her, and mother and daughter sat next to each other on the bed, staring at the photo. The warm, honey-colored walls of the room closed in on them, and Lily's vision blurred from her tears. She saw the room swim in front of her eyes, saw her mother take her hands in her own...

"Mother..."

"Hush, daughter."

Astrid's face was set in a mask of determination. She took a deep breath.

"Mother, I..."

"Hush, daughter." Tears came to her emerald eyes.

Lily lost track of time as the sky darkened to a dark indigo, as the glowing pinpoints of the stars flashed into existence. She wondered if her father was one of them. Maybe he was watching.

Lily heard the clink of pots and pans in the kitchen. It was her turn to cook tonight, but she wondered if someone was substituting for her. Perhaps Sam. The sky blackened and Lily saw her mother stand up. Wordlessly, Astrid opened the door and left.

Dinner was quiet and tense. It wasn't Sam who cooked dinner, like Lily had first thought. It had been Tom. Sam was out riding the horse.

Looking around, Lily wished that she was not just twelve years old. Only twelve years of life with a family which had been broken apart starting from when she was two! She gazed around the table, and suddenly felt the urge to cry again.

Tom reached to Lily and took hold of one of her hands. Lily felt it; warm, calloused from work, wet from cooking and perhaps a little crying, larger than her own. Jon took hold of her other hand, and as Lily closed her eyes to prevent her tears from falling, she could imagine her whole family sitting here, that it was her mother and father, not Tom and Jon holding her hands, that everything would be fine.

But the moment only lasted for a few seconds. There was a pounding on the door, and Sam rushed in. He was flushed and pale and sweating hard.

"They're coming!" He gasped. "They're coming!"

Lily forced down her nausea. She knew who they were. Astrid took hold of one of Lily's hands and led her to the living room. Jon and Tom scrambled out of the dining room and to the entrance hall, where they let out cries of worry.

"Daughter," Astrid whispered. "Look at me."

Their emerald eyes met, and Lily seized her mother's other hand.

"I'll always love you," Astrid continued. "I always have. You've been what's holding this family together. I couldn't have made it, without you."

Her eyes were free of tears, and suddenly Lily realized how strong her mother was, through all these years of raising four children.

"Do you know what your name means?" Astrid asked softly. "Do you?"

"No," Lily replied. "I don't."

"A lily is a flower of beauty," Astrid whispered. "It symbolizes innocence, strength, and purity. The wedding bouquet your father handed me was made of lilies."

Lily suddenly realized why she had been named after a flower. After twelve years of asking, the reason why she was named what she was came to her at Death's door. It was a painless way of reminding Astrid of the husband she had loved more than anything in the world, a way to see Jonathan Senior without actually having to see him, without having to carry that pain.

Suddenly, the front door swung open. Lily heard the loathsome voice of Mr. Huntington.

"Lily! C'mon out! We're heading to the shore!"

"Wait! No!" It was Tom who had shouted. "Let us say our goodbyes first!" He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Mr. Huntington replied. "Make it snappy. And if I see anyone trying to help her escape, the lot of you is going to the serpent snickety-quick!"

He snapped his fingers and ordered the guards to surround the house.

Tom entered the living room. His bottle green eyes were red from crying. Sam came in next, carrying Jon.

Astrid released herself from Lily and sat down onto the floor across from her daughter. Sam let Jon scramble into Lily's lap and also sat, holding on to one of Astrid's hands. Tom took Lily's hands and Jon blinked at Lily with his bloodshot, tired eyes.

"I would take your place. You know I would," Tom whispered. "But I can't... they won't let me."

Lily nodded. "I understand. I would do this... I would to this if I were you..." She swallowed her tears. "I love you, Tom."

Tom said nothing, but embraced his younger sister. "I love you, Lily. I don't want this to happen to any of us."

Lily's eyes were blurry with tears. She turned to Sam. "Thanks," she said, "for being such a great oldest brother. It must have taken a lot of effort for the three of us."

Sam almost smiled, but he took Lily's hand and held it like a lifeline instead. "Oh, I think you were a better older sister to Jon."

"I couldn't have done better than you."

Sam swiped at his eyes and drew his head away. "I'm so sorry about this, Lily..."

"There's no need. This isn't your fault."

"You don't know... you don't know..."

"Sam, there's really no need. It's alright. I love you."

Sam took a breath in. "You're the best sister I could ever get, Lily. Be strong out there."

Jon hugged Lily. "I love you, Lily."

No other words were needed. Lily scooped up Jon and let him snuggle up next to her. There would be no more hugging after she was Sacrificed.

"Take this."

Tom had already stood up, and in his hand was a sword. Lily realized it was her father's hunting knife, about the length of her forearm. The silver metal glinted wickedly under the dim candlelight, and the hilt was tan leather, worn and scratched from countless years of running through the forests.

There was no sheath, but Lily slipped it through the belt on her tunic. "Thank you, Tom."

Tom did not mention the one fact that Lily already knew: that the sword would be nothing against that Serpent.

"And this." Sam had produced his own bow and quiver of oak arrows. He was an excellent shot, but Lily was no good at archery.

"Thank you, Sam. I'll use them with honor."

Astrid looked into her daughter's face, and her eyes were strangely void of any tears. "I love you, daughter," she whispered. "Take my wedding gift from your father."

Sam, Tom, Lily, and Jon turned at once to look at what Astrid had brought out: a bracelet of gold, or, more accurately, a bracelet woven from strands of gold, which were woven from more strands...

"Thank you, Mother."

Lily embraced Astrid once more, feeling her heart beat against her own, her tears running down her shoulders.

"Be strong," Astrid said. "Be strong, Lily..."

Then Mr. Huntington was declaring that their time was up, Lily was taken out of the house with Sam's bow in her left hand and the quiver over her head, her father's hunting knife in her belt, her mother's bracelet around her right hand.

Lily trudged down the same path that she had taken that other day, with her family to the Choosing. It was eerie and spooky at night, as the trees bent over her, locking their branches against the sky, keeping out the starlight and whispering softly with the wind...

Lily felt that the trees at day, those grand, beautiful beings, had been replaced by these evil, haunted copies. Only the crunching of Mr. Huntington's boots and the raspy breathing of the guards kept her focused. She felt the warm hilt of the sword. I'll be ready, she thought, trying to convince herself. When the Serpent comes, I'll be ready.

The salty tang of the lake brushed Lily's hair, and she suddenly wondered why the lake was salty. Perhaps it came directly from the ocean, and the ocean was very close. Lily knew that the ocean was even larger than the lake, but she couldn't imagine that. No, she couldn't. There couldn't be anything bigger than the lake.

"We're here, and she sounds hungry..."

Mr. Huntington looked like an evil, haunted thing himself. The starlight gave his eyes a wicked gleam, and even his potbelly was nothing to laugh about.

The lake seemed to hiss and churn like the Serpent was commanding the whole body of water. Waves roared to ten feet, crashing against the shore. Even at the top of the beach, Lily felt the spray of the foamy white water.

"Well, good eating to the Serpent. We hope you will enjoy this Sacrifice." Mr. Huntington waved at Lily and started back up into the forest, flanked by two guards.

Lily stood at the beach, waiting for the silver Serpent to rise and consume her. The Lake was now still, and the only sound was her breathing.

"Well, come down. What are you waiting for?"

A deep, feminine hiss came from the depths of the Lake, and Lily felt the grip of panic reach up and seize her heart. Her boot released a spray of gravel, and she yelped and leapt back, stumbling into the damp mud of the forest.

"My, my, how clumsy we are." A chuckle came from the lake. "Come on. Let's make this quick."

Lily prayed for her family. She hoped that none of them would ever have to face the same thing as she was... ever.

She remembered her bow and arrows, and she notched an arrow the way Sam had always done, putting an arrow to the dent in the center and drawing it back. "Don't come any closer!"

"Oh, forgot our manners at home, did we?" The Serpent hissed. "You come into my home and give me orders?"

"I'll shoot you! Stay back!"

"I'm afraid not..."

A ripple from the center of the lake spread, and Lily watched as the wave smashed into the shore. Her fingers were numb from pulling the arrow back. "Stay back!" She yelled, her panic obvious. "Or I'll shoot you! I will!"

"I'm afraid not. You see, I don't have much choice on that matter. I have to obey the will of my master."

"Wait... what master? You don't have a master!"

"Poor, doomed little girl. At least you are somewhat prepared. I'm so sorry... now, would you like to be drowned or eaten alive?"

"Stop it! Don't eat me! I have a bow and arrow and a knife!"

Another ripple spread from the center, and, suddenly, the starlight caught the silver head of a beast. Lily felt sick. The head was easily ten stories long, larger than any island, with interlocking scales forming silver armor, and five stories wide. Slowly, the beast rose, the body rising from the lake.

Fifty stories tall. Fangs so sharp Lily knew they would tear through her in an instant. Large blue eyes with silver flecks.

"Do you think I care if you have a bow, arrow, and knife? Look at me. Do you think they can do much harm?"

Lily backed away, her arrow still drawn. "Don't come closer!"

The Serpent bent its head down, its blue eyes flashing menacingly. It hissed and slithered closer, and Lily let her arrow fly.

The arrow missed by several meters, and the Serpent croaked from the inside of its throat, its way of laughing. "Oh, you think you can scare me? At first I thought you actually knew some things."

"I do! I'm... good with a knife!" She dropped the bow and raised her father's silver hunting knife. "Don't approach me, you beast!"

"Come, then. See how you can fare against my fangs."

The Serpent approached, putting only a few feet between itself and Lily.

"Stop!" Lily felt herself back against the shadowy trees, the knife raised like a shield. "I'll... stab your eye out!"

"You think it's that easy? Now, how about you go for my fangs? My eyes are clearly too high for you."

 Lily lowered her knife. "Answers first. Whose your master? If your being held here against your will, I will find who it is and we'll let you go. We'll be happy to."

"Oh, what a pleasant offer. I am touched by it. Really, there is no sarcasm in that statement. But how sad... my master does not even tell me his whereabouts. Actually, I forgot! He did! But, unfortunately, I am not allowed to tell."

"Oh. But then-"

"Wondering who is this master? Who is so powerful, so able to take the sun from your skies, the sky from your grounds?"

"Wait... what did you say? The sun from your skies..."

"The sky from your grounds. Have a problem?"

"No, it's just..." Lily turned her face up to the sky. The stars winked at her... but there was no moon. "Oh, I know!"

Then the Serpent struck.

One fang slammed into her, lifting her body into the air and crashing it to the ground six feet away. Lily rolled to her left as another fang pierced the ground. Her bow and arrows clattered in a pile next to the Serpent, who hissed in laughter.

"Wait! Stop! I know who you are-"

The Serpent slashed at her with its fangs, and Lily parried the strike with the edge of her knife. "Stop! I know who you are-"

"Oh, everyone figures it out in the end. Just let me finish this quick. Why doesn't anyone know at the start? When they're not sentenced to death?"

Lily didn't want to hurt the Serpent, now that she knew. "Stop it! You're the moon! The moon!"

"And now you figure it out? I'm so sorry about this, really. Now, I'll ask again patiently, would you like to be drowned or eaten alive? I say drowned. Less to clean up after."

"Stop!" Lily felt tears run down her face. "This isn't fair!"

"Nothing is fair, little girl." The Serpent swiped down, and Lily saw her blade flying from her hand in a flash of steel, glinting as it soared away, like a throwing star, into the lake.

"No!"

"Oh, yes. Now, I really am sorry. Get in the water."

"I'm not scared of you! I'm not scared!"

The Serpent almost smiled. "Yes, you are. Now, since you're trying not to be scared of me, which really matters, I'll give you one free slash with your blade. I'll get it."

Lily turned to run, but she hadn't moved one foot when the Serpent's tail slammed into her midsection. "And, of course, you shall stay here."

Lily gripped the tail of the serpent and try to worm her way out, but she found no place free of water to which she could find her way out. "Ack..."

"Here is your little blade." The Serpent resurfaced and the blade flashed again as it impaled itself in the beach inches from Lily's face.

The Serpent turned, but kept its tail right next to Lily's face, so it formed a gigantic U of some kind.

"Strike, little girl, strike!"

Lily noticed, for the first time, her mother's bracelet upon her wrist. Looking at the Serpent's tail, she saw, also for the first time, a similar bracelet fastened around its tail, made of silver.

"Strike! Now! Daylight is coming! Strike!"

Lily gripped the wet blade, remembering the song she had heard that night in the birches, remembering that this was the princess, the princess of the moon, remembering that part in the tune...

But under that dreadful silver outside

A princess's spirit still lives, still hides.

A curse to turn back what had went wrong.

Woven from gold, but a legend long gone.

 

And maybe, just maybe, the bracelet shall be found.

And the two bands shall exchange on the serpent's ground.

And maybe, just maybe, she shall return.

For as soon as she comes, we shall all learn.

 

The nature of her captive, to what reason he has found.

To take our sun from our skies, the sky from the grounds.

And maybe, just maybe, we may rest at last.

Freed from that sacrifice the serpent has cast.

 

And maybe, just maybe, all shall be well.

For our land and our people and to the ones who have fell.

And the serpent, the serpent, is silver like the moon.

But that silver is missing, and it's now only gloom.

 

We pray you to come back, we miss you still.

We pray you to come back, to our lands and our mills.

We pray that the bracelets, the bracelets will change.

We pray that the moon shall once again hang.

"Strike, girl! Strike!"

Lily closed her eyes and slashed down at where she knew the bracelet was. She hoped that she was right, that she had it figured out correctly.

There was a screech of anger, and she saw the Serpent, its eyes darkening to black, rearing over her, hissing.

This is it, Lily thought. Now I shall die.

There was a sound like a moan, and suddenly everything was quiet. In the place of the Serpent was a young girl, only fourteen or fifteen, lying there, her eyes closed. Her hair was long and black, and it fanned around her like a cape.

Lily saw her blade, impaled into the silver bracelet. In the girl's hand was the golden bracelet, and she was smiling, like she was having a good dream.

Lily saw black in her vision. The sky was brightening, and the sun was rising. She cast her gaze to the last hints of night.

The moon had returned, and it was hanging in the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

Wow! That was an amazing tale! Better than any story Disney could come up with in my opinion. It gripped me and pulled me into the very first scene and held my attention all the way through. I love your story telling abilities and how you weave in your poetry to it. The overall affect is wonderful!

I enjoyed all the characters, for they were all so dynamic and full of intensity. Really great ink! I very much enjoy your work! Thanks for sharing!

Aaron - Wolfwind

[nostal]

Hey, I'm going to read this later today. Just letting you know

[Lone Wolf]

Thank you so much, Wolfwind!
I wrote the poem over the summer, and I just had an inspiration watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
Then I thought about the Hunger Games and wondered what if one person was sacrificed instead of twenty-four?