Chapter 5

Initiation. It was something I both knew would occur and something I dreaded in this strange place with its strange altars and gods. I naturally assumed 
that their rituals were to be as strange as the rest, and I was not to be disappointed in my assumptions. They wasted no time in preparing for the ceremony. 
It was a secret, private thing, highly female and gravely somber. The gods I'd served as a child had celebrated joy and strength, these gods seemed to 
revel in submission and humble sorrow.

I was bathed in scented oils and my hair was brushed reverently until it shone and clung to the fingers of the girls who tended me. I was led in a robe to 
the inner sanctuary, but when the doors closed behind us and left us in torch-lit darkness the robe was lifted from my shoulders and I was left nude to 
approach the altar and the older women who awaited me there.

The stone floor was smooth and cold beneath my feet and I felt gooseflesh chase itself up and down my arms and spine as I walked. For a moment I 
felt a twinge of doubt, of regret, but when I saw whose statue it was that graced the eastern corner of the room my heart remembered its purpose and 
hardened once again. 

I knelt on the pillow that had been placed before the massive altar and gazed at the way the candles flickered and burned, leaving trails of crimson wax 
in their wake. The woman who had met me when I first entered the temple – whose name I had discovered was Desedira – approached me, holding 
within her hands a ceramic bowl which I knew held heated, sweetly scented oil. The fragrance of it filled my nostrils and it was a lovely scent of which 
I breathed deeply.

She dumped the mass of this sweet oil over my head. I closed my eyes, feeling the oil run down and through the heavy masses of my hair, over my 
cheeks and the closed lids of my eyes. I do not know if it was the heat of the oil or some true acceptance but I felt a following chill, as though cold 
ethereal fingers ran their way down my spine and up over my shoulders in an affectionate caress.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen…

The line from my ominous childhood prophecy whispered in my mind, but I knew it was not me the words referenced. This sanctuary was a dark and 
foreboding place, and the gods of the stars and I both felt that no god truly rested here. Only greed and power rested in this place, and it created an 
illusion with which to control a people who had once been peaceful, calm, and content.

Desedira drew my head back and she lifted the heavy masses of my hair. It was my sacrifice to these new gods, for I had come with nothing of my own. 
The knife she used upon it was sharp and her fingers were skilled as she sheared away the golden locks until they scarcely touched my shoulders. Two 
young women knelt and gathered the shorn tresses and together carried it to the altar, where they were placed within a large stone vessel. I was drawn 
up to my feet and the knife that had shorn my hair was placed within my hand.

I approached the stone bowl and drew a breath before I drew the blade over the palm of my hand. Now was the time for me to state my oath to this 
temple, to its gods, to its purpose. The gods I served turned their heads from me, for while it was necessary for me to serve what I had come to do, 
they would not recognize my oath, just as I knew that in my heart of hearts I would not.

I watched the blood drip from the gash I had caused and fall into the mass of oil-soaked gold that was already waiting. “I come into your service.” My 
words were soft and the chill I had felt before returned to my flesh. “I come to serve, I come to follow. Where ruler becomes god and god rules state, I 
pledge myself to the purpose of this altar, of these walls. My voice will rise in reverence, and my actions will speak in ways that words are unable.”

I closed my fist around the wound and tightened my fingers relentlessly until more blood flowed; more crimson stained what I had sacrificed. When I 
stepped back from the altar Desedira came forward again, and she was both beautiful and terrible as she raised her arms above her head in homage to 
a deity I could not comprehend, the deadly glint of a dagger within her hands. 

What happened next would make me shudder with horror for many cold nights to come.

“For this creature that has given herself as sacrifice in service to this temple, this temple shall make a sacrifice unto her for her commitment.” Once again 
it was made painfully aware to me that the initiation rites were a private and secret communion, and as they led forth a most-beautiful boy I felt my heart 
stop in my chest.

He was dressed in a plain white gown that hung open at his chest and went to his feet. His eyes were adoring, his skin pale and face gaunt from what 
was doubtlessly starvation. His hair curled in ruby ringlets around his cherub cheeks and his eyes were the shade of the sea during summer. He knelt 
before me. He could not have been more than twelve years old, not yet even a man and his eyes were filled with a strange adoration, glossy as though 
he had been drugged.

“I am ready to die for you.” He told me.

My throat constricted with horror and I was unable to say anything. “Is he acceptable?” Desedira spoke from the altar in her terrible voice. “Or is he 
blemished?”

“He is beautiful.” The words were choked and filled with sorrow.

The boy rose. “My name is Matthew.” He told me and his smile was as beautiful as the rest of him. He must have seen the turmoil within my eyes for 
he added, “I will take my place among the gods. Your commitment will allow me to have great respect given to me.”

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs as he approached Desedira, wanted to shout and tear at my hair as he laid himself so willingly out upon the 
heavy stone altar, pale and tender neck outstretched over the stone vessel that held my hair and my blood. But, I was gripped with a deathly cold as 
though something chained my arms to my sides and my feet to the floor. 

Desedira lifted the boy named Matthew's chin with her fingers, and I noticed how her hands did not waver or tremble. She truly believed what it was 
she was going to bestow upon the innocent boy entrusting himself to her. He truly believed that he would be granted what he had been promised. And 
my own soul was wracked with a guilt I knew would not fade as I stood with a false promise in my heart and watched as the dagger replaced 
Desedira's hand beneath his throat. “Do you commit yourself to the gods as a gift for this girl's life-long service to them from this day forth?”

“I commit myself.” Matthew's voice was pure and unspoiled, strong in its conviction. If I could have turned away from the scene before me I would have, 
but if anything I was more riveted as the dagger slipped back with more grace than I could have imagined and the boy's blood flowed forth in a crimson 
flood. I could imagine how it soaked my shorn hair, mixed with my own blood. Violently my thoughts returned to the night I had shrieked and fled with 
blood covering me from head to toe. I remembered when my mother's throat had poured forth a river of life that had coated my golden hair and my white gown.

I felt the thoughts would suffocate me as the vessel was brought forward from the altar and the child's blood was poured upon my bent head until I was 
covered in the sweet sickly scent of his death. The remaining blood-soaked hair was returned to the altar and was lit aflame. I sank to the floor beneath 
the rising smoke and the flickering flame, trembling without control like a thing possessed or overcome. My thoughts went back to a golden-haired 
soldier that had looked upon me with pity, the ominous foreboding I had been given as he left on his steed that another child would pay the price for me. 
How many children would be forced to pay my price? Ariana had told me my fate was written time and again when the questions overwhelmed me, but 
there was no Ariana with her kind smile and glittering eyes to take my hand and reassure me as the blood grew cold upon my skin and the stench of 
burning hair and blood filled the air and flowed over me. 

...quake for the rebirth at hand…

The whisper was given has a reassurance, a premonition, or perhaps merely an acknowledgement that I was not truly alone as I knelt on the cold stone 
floor. And quake I did. I quaked and I trembled and I was filled with fear.

It seemed hours before I was helped to my feet, before the pure white robe was draped over my shoulders to quickly become stained with blood that 
was not my own. “Welcome.” The whisper came again and again as women both young and old approached me, pressed their lips to my blood-soaked 
ones. I was unable to do anything in response, and it did not seem to surprise any of the others gathered there. How many other young women had 
bowed in horror to the sadistic flair of the ritual they'd entered into? Had any of them wept, or was I the only that looked upon with a horrified heart 
and dry eyes?

“Come, darling.” Desedira's voice was sympathetic. “It's over. Let us get you a warm bath and some supper, shall we?”

I nodded blankly and was led out of the room with Desedira on one side and some woman I had never seen before on the other. 

We had only walked what seemed a few feet when I was brought face to face with a man dressed in the colors of a military officer, and as my eyes rose 
up the broad chest to meet the face I nearly collapsed against those at my sides. The dark eyes that glittered at me were those that had filled my dreams, 
promised nightmare upon nightmare throughout my life.

“Another has joined the service.” The voice sounded pleased but there was something darker in Xenos's eyes as he looked at me, some strange light 
that seemed excited by the sight of a girl covered in blood with fear soaking through her eyes.

“We are taking to get her cleaned up, master.” Desedira said and a tremulous fear and respect leaked into her voice.

Xenos nodded and his lips quirked in a strange smile. He continued past as though nothing strange had occurred, and it was only then that I let my breath 
out in a long rush. In that moment I had been fearful that he would have recognized me. Blood-covered and trembling, with eyes wide with terror – it is 
what I had been as a child, and it disgusted me that the second time I had seen the monster that had destroyed innocence so easily I had been in the same 
state. It was as though the years melted away from me and I was once again the feeble child staring into the eyes of her mother's corpse. I vowed to 
myself as I was prodded to continue forward that I would never meet the man in such a state again, regardless of the circumstances.

~*~

The bath was glorious. I did not care that the water was soon the same crimson-color as the blood that had coated me or that my hair was now sadly 
shortened compared to the magnificent mane it had been before. All that mattered was that the water was warm and that with each scrub of the rough 
cloth more of the night was rubbed away. I scrubbed at my flesh until it was bright red in many places where the skin threatened to be rubbed raw. 

Desedira dressed the wound on my hand quietly. I said nothing, even though the ointment she used stung the tender, raw flesh and the cloth she bound it 
in was scratchy and uncomfortable. I was seeing the boy Matthew's eyes behind my own when they closed. He had looked upon me with such adoration, 
such mindless trust, and my stomach grew sick to think of what that adoration and trust had brought him in return. For his sake I hoped that some god 
somewhere in the night sky would have pity upon him and grant him a place amongst them. Perhaps some small star clustered amongst many so much 
brighter, forever protected and forever remembered.

“I will have food brought to you.” Desedira's voice shook me from my thoughts.

“Thank you.” I managed to tell her quietly as I placed my bandaged hand in my lap.

“It will get easier on the mind in time.” She told me as though anticipating what it was that I was thinking on so intently.

“Are you so certain?” I could not help but ask, wondering if the horror would ever truly fade from my mind.

“All things grow easier with time. This much I can promise you.” She told me with a sad certainty, patting me on the shoulder lightly. She left me to my 
solitude then, and when the food came I was unable to eat it.

I was not so certain that things would grow easier in time, but as I laid back on the simple but lovely bed that had been prepared for me it was as though 
I could feel The Lover's kiss upon my lips again, his arm around my waist. Perhaps it was merely fancy that I found comfort in such invisible attentions, 
perhaps it was just imagination. However, it helped me still the trembling in my limbs, drive the coldness from my body for merely a moment.

Sleep finally claimed me but it was not to be a restful sleep. It was instead a thing filled of uneasy dreams and blood-soaked memory. I woke with a 
start several times, fancying that the laugh in my dreams was real and that I would rise to find Xenos staring at me with those dark, impenetrable eyes 
and that strange smile quirking his lips. I wondered if he'd had the same expression as he killed my father in our main foyer, and then quickly pushed the 
thought from my mind. While such things would give me fuel to make the fire of vengeance within my heart burn hotter, I knew that I had reached a point 
where calm and level-headedness would serve me far better. I knew that I would run into Xenos many more times in the future, and if I wanted to succeed 
in escaping notice and scrutiny, I would have to still my heart and the fire that would burn within my eyes. I would have to grow cold to his crude voice, 
his dark and glittering eyes. 

Already I knew that one day I would have to grow closer to the man in order to have a chance in carrying out my revenge. How this would occur I did 
not know. Patience would be a virtue that could not be taken for granted in this particular situation. I already knew that many years would pass before I 
could achieve my goal, but it did not make my conviction waver. If anything, it gave me the steadiness of mind I knew I would need in the next few weeks 
to come in order to grow accustomed to my new and dark surroundings, in order to do my duties well so that I could gain some sort of permanence in 
this place.

As I fell asleep once again it was the lion that came into my dreams, and he roared. When he roared the sea began to boil. The ground beneath him 
began to shake under the weight of his heavy paws, and as I screamed soundlessly the earth split in two and the city with its shimmering buildings and 
colorful streets began to splinter and crack like a mirror struck by a stone.

It was with this vision that I awoke.



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