𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘖𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴

𝙰𝚛𝚎𝚜 - 𝙴𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

---

You were born to die. From the very day you were born, you only had one purpose. To be sacrificed to a god. It was supposed to be your mother but, she swore to bear a child that could handle the burden.

Multiple villages in the country were assigned a god. Growing up you heard stories of Persephone, Hera, Amphitrite...the wives of the gods that were given away long ago. Every Eon a woman was sacrificed, right on their 20th birthday.

The god could either choose to accept or decline. That's why it was a sacrifice. If you were declined, you were never heard from again, killed. But, if you were accepted, glory and pride would be brought upon the village. Along with blessings for years to come.

Once a god found the one, the village never had to make a sacrifice again. You were unlucky though. The god who has declined dozens of wives through the eons. Ares.

The god of war.

Your village was under scrutiny for years, due to a war taking place with another country. If the sacrifice was accepted, the country would be blessed with victory in the war. If not, many more would die at the hands of the opposing country.

In the mirror your eyes were grim. Your hair was brushed to perfection and not a speck of makeup touched your face. "Are you ready?" Your mother asked.

You nodded. It was common courtesy to not speak. You were properly trained all your life for this moment. You felt lucky to still have your inside thoughts and impulses but, there were no good memories you would miss. Not even your own mother. Naturally this made you not fearless of death.

According to the village, your mind, soul and body was curated perfectly for the god Ares.

The hue of torches lit up the outside of your home, waiting to escort you. Your mother placed a golden veil over your head, then you were escorted outside, into a box. Inside was a padded bed, flowers, spices, and many other offerings for good luck.

"Beauty and Peace, Beauty and Grace, We offer to you, One fit for a wife's place." The villagers recited.

The box holding you was placed on a wagon. You heard the chants and the farewell from the villagers.

You felt instant regret. You should've fought back or been rebellious in your lifetime. Anything that would have tainted your chances of being the sacrifice. You felt that you weren't the future of the village. This is all another lost cause, nothing would change.

—-

You woke up to metal clanging, you lied face down against the wooden top that was sealed or your safe transportation. The air was hazy and you felt paralyzed in this state.

"Help." You whined.

There was a drop and a huffing heard outside.

"Hello?" You whispered.