Take Me Away

Chapter 3

I bit back tears as I made my way through the huge crowds that had gathered for the festival. Men, women, and children were dressed in their finest robes. I weaved my way through the crowds, twisting left and right, moving so fast that everything just became a blur. Or perhaps it was the tears threatening to leak from my eyes that were blurring my vision.

I couldn't wait to leave this place. I needed to get out, plain and simple. I was going to die today, and after what had happened with Terrin, it was a relief. I was ready to embrace my bloody death with open arms, and I swore I wouldn't even struggle. I was defeated inside, there was no strength left. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry and break down when I realized my horrid fate. I would stand tall, and my face would be expressionless as my body was torn to pieces.

I made my way through the crowds to where the other girls were located. When I entered the space where they were gathered, they all stopped to glare at me. I was hated and disliked, and I wouldn't do anything to even try to change their opinion. They didn't matter. Their opinions didn't matter anymore. 

"Bloody hell," I heard Croya murmur as her eyes met mine. "Demon girl finally showed up."

Despite how low I was feeling, I still flinched from her words. My eyes... people always said that my eyes were different colors because there was a demon inside me, and that was why people stayed away from me like I was their worst fear.

"Hush, Croya," a deep, dark manly voice said behind me, slightly out of breath. "You say one more word and I will guarantee it will be your body ripped to shreds," he bit out, and that was the most threatening thing I had ever heard my teacher, Cyril, say.

"Melisande," he whispered in a gentle tone, placing a hand on my shoulder. I automatically shivered at his touch. Nobody, no one, had ever touched me, unless they were Terrin and she was forced to. But he placed his hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed it, sending a warm feeling coursing throughout my body. "May I speak with you for a moment?" he asked, and he didn't remove his grip from my shoulder as he led me outside the fairgrounds, to where we were alone and no one could hear us.

"W-why?" I whispered in the smallest voice I'd ever used. I quickly shut my mouth though, knowing that nobody wanted to answer my stupid questions.

"Why what, Melisande?" he asked, looking me over.

My heart beat faster when he assured me that I could ask my question. "Why did you... defend me?"

Cyril chuckled, but removed my hand from my shoulder. "Because no one deserves to be treated like that," he whispered, and for the second time that day, I was shocked out of my wits. He used his hand and gently grabbed my bangs and bent them back so they were on the top of my head, and my eyes and forehead were entirely exposed. My eyes widened in surprise, and I immediately found myself pushing at his hands to stop him. 

"And you're beautiful," he whispered, taking a pin and pinning my hair back so my bangs wouldn't fall in my face. "No matter what anyone says. They don't matter to you anymore, Meli. You know what they have planned, don't you?" he asked, and I nodded my head, unable to lie. 

"Be strong, Melisande. I promise, if you are stong, you will be fine. Just try to trust me, Meli," he said. "Can you do that?"

"I'm going to die, Cyril," I murmured, surprised that I had called him by his first name. I never spoke to him in class, and we were all required to call him 'teacher' if we had any questions. This was the most I had ever spoken to anyone besides Terrin. Were there more kind people like him? "Nothing matters anymore."

"This isn't the end, Meli," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. My face flushed, and my heart rate sped up. No one, no one, had ever kissed me before. All of these new sensations made me want to stay, made me want to know if there was more to life than the hatred I'd known. I hadn't really even spoke to Cyril before, but he was looking at me and treating me like he was my only friend in the world, and he knew more about me than anyone else. "I promise."

"It's going to start soon," I whispered, looking at the fairgrounds.

"You'll be fine," he murmured in response, leading us back to the sacrificial platform where the other girls were warming up for the dance. "You are the most beautiful dancer here, and I promise, this is not the end."

"Goodbye, Cyril," I whispered, reaching out to him to take his hand and squeeze it once before letting him go. There was a first for everything, I supposed. I didn't believe him, not for a second, that this wasn't my end. I was going to die, and I had already accepted it. "Thank you, Cyril," I said, so he could hear me. He had turned back to look at me in shock that I had dared to touch him. He didn't look horrified, he looked... pleased.

"No need," he whispered, and disappeared into the crowds of people. He didn't go too far away, though, and I made sure I could see him when we lined up in our positions, ready and waiting for the music to start. We were going to dance around the pinacle of the sacrificial platform, and they had programmed the dance so that I would be the closest one to the spot where the other girls had disappeared by the time the music stopped. He nodded at me in encouragement, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from him even as the people in the crowds and the women around me whispered, shaming me and the bangs that were pinned at the top of my head. 

The tribal leaders started the music. First the steady rhythm of the drums, then gradually adding more elements of music. We all started our dances, our red, silky, provacative outfits swaying in the breeze and in time with out bodies as we danced in tribute to our Gods, offering our bodies to them to take and use whichever way they pleased. My heart rate picked up as I neared the end of the song and the pinacle, knowing that my soul and body would be ripped apart by the Gods which we were currently praising. 

In that moment, I hated everyone who knew and set me up so that I would die. They had all gathered to watch my death, knowing that they would soon be free of the nuisance of the village. I did not matter to them. They had never even given me a chance. 

"Melisande... you're almost there," I heard Cyril's voice echo in my mind, even though I knew I was probably just hallucinating from the stress. Or maybe the people of the village were right. Maybe it was the devil inside of me that was speaking ot me. "Tell me now, do you want me to take you away from this place?" he asked, and I found myself nodding with the rhythm.

I didn't know what he meant. I didn't know if I was making things up, or if they were real in my head, but I didn't really want to die. If I had the chance, I would pack my things and go off to live in the wilderness, away from all the people who had hated and wronged me.

"Meli!" the voice seemed to shout in my mind. "This is real. I'm real. You aren't hallucinating. This is a real question that you must answer!" he yelled, automatically pulling me out of my daze and forcing me to think. "Do you want me to take you away from this? Do you want me to save you?" his voice grew more and more desperate in my head as I neared the pinacle.

"Yes," I said aloud, no one bothering to listen to my words at this point. "Take me away, Cyril." I tried to turn to look at him in the crowd, but he was no longer there. There was no way I could back out now. Cyril had left, and I was going to die. I continued my dance, and I reached the pinacle, and the music stopped. Everyone in the arena froze, all of the dancers, and me, as I stood in front of the pinacle, a large stick in the air acting as a conductor of the Gods. 

I watched as a dark, red cloud came from the ground, flooding through the pinacle. The red light bathed us all in it's glory, and I looked around to see if everyone was just as surprised as I was, but they were just staring with blank eyes, watching the skies and waiting for something to happen. 

"Do you see it?" I asked, and a few girls raised their eyebrows at me. I knew that no one could see the unearthly glowing light, that seemed to be the essence of Hades himself. My body shook and trembled with fear as it formed into the shape of a human in front of me. Cyril. The red, smoky cloud took the shape of the one man, the one person, who had shown me kindness before my execution.

"Do you still want me to take you away?" he asked, his body still made of red smoke, but somehow possessing Cyril's deep, posessive tone.

"Yes," I whispered, looking at him in earnest. "I don't want to be here anymore."

"Take my hand," he whispered, and I did. Surprisingly, I could feel his flesh even though he appeared to be made of smoke, and the crowd gasped as the red flowed from him and over my body, cloaking me with his red essence. The smoke filled my mouth and my nose, and my head dropped as my body became lethargic and sleepy. 

"I'm sorry, Melisande," he whispered, catching me as I fell into his arms and fainted.