Hades

Sacrifice

He was nobody. His only talent was to go completely unnoticed. The emotions came but had no taste, he screamed but there was no sound. Always the average person, forgettable in the overwhelming crowd.

His existence was meaningless. It's not that he didn't perform his tasks well. He was good at them but wasn't skilled. He was only okay at everything, but excellent at nothing. He didn't have something that made his eyes shine and his soul sparkle.

“A blank canvas, that’s what I am” he sighed one day. There was no ink that would stick to it, they were always too watery, diluted in a torrent of irrelevant information.

But not that day.

He heard the noises before he saw them. He tried to escape, but it was too late. Fast as sea currents, subtle as nocturnal predators, they tore through the night to capture him.

The night sky was filled with their guttural chant, the earth shook with their chaotic dance. Sacred and profane came together in such a way that, for a single moment, the barriers between the eternal dualism of the world were torn down.

The Bacchantes laughed, beautiful and cruel, around the insignificant boy. That night marked the end and beginning of a cycle and the exaltation of a god.

And when the dagger finally found its destination, the white cloth finally stained red and the priestesses howled. That boy who fell into the abyss was now “Sacrifice".