Amara willingly sacrificed herself to the dragons to save her circle of villages. She was her village headman's daughter and the right age, so she had to lead by example. Expecting death since she hit puberty, Amara wasn't ready to look forward to t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"The sacrifices have been around for aeons, our memories have forgotten when they started or why. But as we all know, without the sacrifices the magical balance would be lost and that should never be." Her father's voice rang true as he stood beside her on the newly constructed stage.
"Magic sustains the air about our village," he continued. "Magic is the reason our crops grow all year round and need only three weeks to mature. Magic lives in our bones and without it, we will weaken and die. And magic comes from the dragons so we must sacrifice.
This year is ours to sacrifice and my daughter Amara is to be that sacrifice." His voice broke at the last sentence and he paused to clear his throat and compose himself. Their people understood and kept their reverent silence.
There were five villages in all and each year one girl was offered to the dragons as a sacrifice. The villages rotated and this year it was their turn to offer sacrifice. As the daughter of the village headman, Amara knew the sacrifice was hers to make. Her father had long preached that a leader was to lead by example. How could she then not be a sacrifice instead of another girl?
Maybe her father's saying had been a way to prepare himself for this loss, after all, he had most likely known from the time she was born that she would be the sacrificial age. Amara herself had reasoned it at puberty. Only a girl of twenty was sacrificed in her village, the selection happening when she was sixteen, a year after the last to be sacrificed.
So in the last four years, she'd known this day would come. Prepared with honour for the day she would ensure the survival of her people. She hadn't allowed herself to mourn that she'd never fall in love as her friends were bound to, or hold a child of her own. There was beauty in sacrifice.
"It breaks my heart..." her father's voice broke then he straightened, though it seemed impossible. "It breaks my heart to lose my child, b...but I stand with pride to have raised a young lady willing to give her life for ours. May the light of Regin the great go with her."
Her father had given a longer speech last time, a better one, but Amara understood. It was one thing for him to empathize with other parents and another to be that parent. He turned to face her, tears glistening in his eyes. He'd never shed them she knew, but it was enough to know how he felt.
Amara let her own tears fall. Unlike two of the other villages, her village didn't put makeup on any of the sacrifices. She'd even heard that one of the other villages sacrificed their virgins naked. She shuddered at the idea. Couldn't imagine all her friends and family seeing her without her clothes on.
She wore a simple dress made of lightweight material. It flowed around her and had a drawstring just under her ample breasts. Her shoulder-length hair waved around softly in response to the wind and she forced herself to smile.
Her father kissed her forehead, a blessing of goodwill then turned to walk down the steps to the right. Next, her mother walked up the stairs to the left her head held high. She stopped before her, looked her in the eye then kissed her on the forehead before going down the other side.
Then her older sister came next, then her sister's husband, her brother then the rest of the villagers blessed her. By the time it was all done she couldn't hold back the sobs that assailed her.
She loved her village and had willingly come to be the sacrifice but it was breaking her heart to say goodbye. Amara wondered if it'd have been better if they hadn't come. If maybe standing on the stage alone would've been less emotional.
Her villagers then started singing. A beautiful song of praise, not to their deity, no, this song extolled her virtues. It had been composed just for her and would go into the village archives.
Amara wanted to listen to what they had to say about her, wanted to memorize the beautiful harmonies and the chords her people sang. Somehow though, her mind refused to focus, refused to take the last moment to enjoy her people.
Fear gripped her, even though she'd known for years this day would come she'd never felt it. Now it seemed it was all she could feel. Her breath came in short heavy pants she couldn't control.
She tried to control herself, she really did, but the more time sped on, the harder it became to breathe. Shouldn't she be better at this? After all, she'd resigned herself to death, yet she wanted to run, wanted to scream.
Why hadn't they tied her to a post?
She stiffened her back, pressed her feet into the ground so her legs wouldn't give up on her. Wondering if the others could see how she was now shaming herself she looked into the crowd. They smiled back at her, their voices rising in homage to her.
Somehow, it made her feel better, stronger.
There was a change in the air pressure and with her heart pounding harder in her chest, Amara looked up to see the dragon coming for her. It was stunning.
The sun's rays seemed to concentrate on it as if drawn to it by some preternatural sense. It was purple in colour with blue accents shimmering through in various shades.
This time when her breath caught it was due to awe. The dragon was stunning, so at odds with all the rumours that went about on what they did to the sacrifices. She was mesmerized, somehow gratified to be the sacrifice to this magnificent beast.
It was always a different dragon that came for the girls and the one she'd seen five years back hadn't been as beautiful as this one, as regal. Maybe it was the shades of purple that gave her the idea, but there was something stately about its flight.
The villagers, still singing, made way for the dragon to land. Amara kept her gaze glued to its eyes, the multifaceted. It took her in, a purposeful look that showcased the keen intelligence she saw in its eyes.
It landed before her stage, the song of her people rose in adoration, her heart stilled. Its wings were half opened as if it were ready to lift off at any sign of danger. They were beautiful, with smaller scales that were even more iridescent.
It reached out to her with its forepaws and Amara walked closer. It was exquisitely gentle as it took her up, settling her in its arms. She leaned against its chest and locked her eyes with it.
She heard the sound of its wings moving the air about but she didn't feel it against her, sheltered as she was by its body. Its scales were warm, soft against her cheek. She rested her hand against its chest and felt an exhilarating flash of heat transfer.
Some form of awareness flashed in its eyes as her skin flared a pattern of heat. Her mind seemed to stretch, a limit she hadn't known was there opened up and flooded.
'What is your name beautiful?' A voice sounded in her mind and she knew it belonged to the creature before her. A male voice.
"Amara." She whispered breathlessly.
'A fitting name. I am Takehiko Daichi of the blue dragons.'
She felt the ground recede from her and she looked down at her people. Her father held her mother to his side as she cried. The song her people were still singing reached a crescendo as they gained more height.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." She replied. The sadness and tears in her voice belied that statement.
'I'm sorry for your loss beautiful.'
"Life is full of sacrifices." She muttered then curled into his chest in her despair. He held her closer and she closed her eyes to try and still the pain in her heart.
'It will get better.' He soothed.
It might very well be one day. Amara no longer feared the dragon was going to kill her. Still, nothing he could say was going to make her feel better right now. So she relaxed against him wondering what life would have in store for her.
