Daughter of Sacrifice

Dark Days, Dark Dreams

It all started with darkness.
The darkness was endless and infinite, enveloping everything that lay in its path. The darkness was blinding. The silence was deafening. The grip of the darkness tightened around her, trying to rule her mind. She tried to fight it off. She wanted to scream, but the darkness put an icy hand on her mouth, freezing her lips shut. The darkness stole her air away. The darkness was suffocating.
Then, a flash of light.
Faint noises rose up from the depths of the darkness. Voices. She tried to turn, to search for the speaker, to search for the bringer of light, but the darkness tightened its grip. He breathed his cold air down on her face. It tried to sedate her. It was working. She had lost the feeling in her legs and feet a while ago. Now, the feeling of numbness crept towards her abdomen, freezing her.
Another flash of light and the darkness turned away for a split second. That was enough. That was all she needed. It was all the time she needed to escape the grip of the darkness and flee. But the darkness was endless. There was no up, there was no down. No right or left. She just fell into nothing. She fell and fell until something yanked her out of the blinding darkness and into the dim light of the setting sun.
Horses. Hooves of horses clattering on a cobblestone street. She was not there, in that carriage along with that man, woman and a little child she did not know. It felt like she was hovering above it, looking down on a scene of a play. She recognized the man, with his brown curls and rough beard. She recognized the woman, with her golden hair and silver eyes. Those two moons for eyes stared intensely at the little girl. She did not know that girl. She did not know her golden locks or deep brown eyes. She did not know why an expression of immense sadness covered her expressions. She did not want to know.
The child did not stare back at the woman. Her eyes were set on the horizon, the setting sun casting a golden hue on the brown of her irises. Tears stained the girls red cheeks. Why was that girl crying?
She wanted to comfort the girl. She wanted to reach out and touch her golden hair. She wanted to tell her everything would be alright. But it wouldn't be alright. She knew it wouldn't. She didn't know why she knew. She didn't remember why she knew. But she knew. She knew that when this white carriage reached its destination, something inevitable would happen.
In a daze, she lifted her hand. Slowly, she extended it toward the girl. Her hand trembled as it neared the girl's. She started to shudder, and she knew darkness would be back for her. Only a bit further. Her body was trying to work against her, making her fingers tremble and her muscles twitch. She dared to cross the distance and when her fingertip touched the girl's delicate white skin, something snapped into place inside her.
Her vision shifted all of a sudden, letting her watch through the eyes of the young girl. Her eyes followed the vast line of trees that cast a dark shadow upon these lands. The clouds above the treetops were colored in lush colors of pink and orange. Beautiful. Her eyes finally dared to shift to the woman--her mother.
"Are we almost there?" She asked. Her voice was soft and broken.
Her mother nodded and reached for her daughter's hand. She didn't pull away. Her father held her other hand, squeezing it reassuringly. She turned her attention back to the trees. They were gigantic, towering above anything else in this world. She was marveled by the beauty, but that feeling was pushed away by a strong feeling of hate. She would lose her mother to that forest. She would lose her mother to those Creatures of the Woods--those monsters--who ruled the humans by spreading fear through their lands. She hated them with a burning passion. Hate burned inside her little heart. Hate burned away the sense of beauty.

Cobblestones changed into the soft and uneven ground of the country side. They'd left the city of Xerron behind them and now moved closer and closer to the Woods. She heard the driver's voice calling to his horses. They were growing restless as well. They probably sensed which dangers hid in the darkest shadows of the trees. She felt it too. Something inside her rose up, alongside her hatred. Something that tightened itself around her chest and throat. It made a shiver run down her spine, although it was one of the warmest days of the year. It didn't take long before her entire body started shaking.
"Are you cold, angel?" Her father asked. His voice was deep and rich. It was the voice that had read her the same bedtime stories over and over again, night after night. It brought some comfort, but still couldn't drive away the eerie feeling hanging above them like a thick cloud. She shook her head, but he still wrapped a strong arm around her tiny shoulders. She had inherited the deep brown of his eyes, but her mother's golden locks crowned her head. Those curls now framed her round face in a golden hue, catching the light of the setting sun. She leaned against her father's chest, one hand still clasped it the soft ones of her mother. Her father bent down to kiss the top of her head. Her little hand firmly clasped his. She didn't want to let go. She didn't want to let any of them go, but she would have to. Those soft hands that held hers, had treated her wounds or wiped away her tears so many times before, would never touch her again. After this night, never again would those hands swiftly usher a comb through her tangled hair. Never again would those fingers gently strum the strings of a lyre to create heavenly melodies. Never again would she be able to hold her. Never again. Her chest caved in, pressing down on her lungs and heart. This night, she would lose her mother to the heavy shadows of that terrible forest and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
It was a ritual. A stupid ritual demanded by the Creatures of the Woods--also called the Fey. Her father had told her about them. She had read stories about them. She had learned about them in school. Some people believed they only existed in what they call a Fairytale. But the people of their country knew they existed. They knew those tales were true. Their country--the country she hated for its rainy climate--lay closest to the Woods. Blessing or curse. She had been alright with the Woods when they'd lived a far distance away from them, in the capital city. But now that they neared those humongous trees, she wanted to get away as soon as possible--with her mother.