The Ceremony

“No. This world will not end.”

     He moved forward, just enough for his face to be lit.

“Oswynn…” Henox straightened up, his tone almost threatening.

     Making a few steps, he stood in front of the phœnix before proceeding.

“You’re stark raving mad. If Kishar decides the world have to meet its end, then it will meet its end. You should know it yourself, that nobody can go against her will.”

“The goddess will not abandon us.”

     From his mouth, these words seemed to be blatancy. Though more than his words, the expression of his face was the one being worrisome. The smile that had just crept onto his features. That was a smile lacking joy, lacking benevolence, lacking malevolence, lacking mockery as well. An empty smile. An illusion.

“Our pleas won’t be vain. The goddess Kishar loves each one of these world’s creatures. The thought of ending their existence wouldn’t come to her mind. It’s impossible.” He added before continuing in a murmur. “That’ impossible… Simply… Impossible.”

     His lips remained unsealed, as if his train of thought had carried him away.

     The phœnix’s flames alone crackled weakly when the High Priest regained a serene expression.

“It is but a trial to test our love for her.”

“You dare to speak of love after you and the other villagers have done… You used a creature that merely sought to help you. What do you think your beloved goddess thinks of all of this?”

     A laugh.

“Gretel was right. There still were things left to see. Cruelty and egoism are rife, but even so.” He let out ironically. “I have underestimated human beings’ ability to become worse than they already are. This world is even more hideous than what I’ve known of it. But keep going. Keep going. Show me how the poor little lambs you are hope to see this factitious love heard.”

“It’s obvious, though…”

     It was there. This glow of madness flickering in his gaze.

     Even blind, his gaze seemed more consistent than his smile. Less bland, more real.

“Love has to be demonstrated day after day. Day after day we address her our prayers, day after day we offer her a gift. We offer her the only thing of value we have left. To show her that for this world’s sake we are able to give up on everything,… even on life itself.”

“What did you say?” Henox frowned.

“For her, we had given her the most precious thing we had, the purest thing we had. Before it became further stained.”

“Do you mean…”

“Tonight, it’s Lucrecia’s turn.”

     The sorcerer widened his eyes.

     Hope had for long left Desphia’s village. It had left it at the same time as its protector’s tears had dried.

     And when crying is no more possible… The only thing remaining is despair.

     What madness is the most fond of.

***

Once her hair was perfectly brushed, the old wrinkled hands tied a ribbon on the ends of her hair the colour of autumn leaves. With a flick of the wrist, she placed it over Lucrecia’s shoulder.

     Gretel, as for her, was busy smoothing out the folds from the immaculate fabric of the young woman’s dress.

     At last, the hands laid the flower wreath at the top of her head.

     Thus, she was ready. Lucrecia smiled.

     Each day, since the announcement of the end of the world, she prayed. At the beginning, it was only at mass time. When the latter ended, life returned to normal. She went to run her store, talk with her friends. Promising them to meet at her home around cups of tea and cakes.

     And then, the size of cakes’ slices diminished.

     Water replaced tea.

     Prayers replaced open-hearted discussions. Though they were no more enough.

     Around the village, the brambles began to spread. The High Priest had explained it to them. Alone, their corrupted voices wouldn’t be sufficient. For love, one has to sacrifice everything. To give before to receive.

     Alleysia had taken. Alleysia had gone. Alleysia had betrayed. But their love, Kishar could have it without ever losing it.

     They began gifting her with the purest hearts, the ones that hadn’t been stained yet. Lucrecia and her friends had then taken the habit, day after day, to join in the meadow at the back of the village. There, they wove gorgeous flower wreaths which they offered to those who had been chosen.

     Over time, their laughs stopped from running through the streets. Toys began to gather dust in houses.

     Though it hadn’t been enough.

     Over time, the number of those joining in the meadow decreased. One by one. Until she was the only one left.

     At each passing day, she prayed during mass time. Once mass ended, she stayed in the church and kept on praying.

     To deserve Kishar’s love, her forgiveness, they had to suffer the same wounds.

     The old woman who had been preparing her let Lucrecia get up, take a few steps towards a chest of drawers. On top of that, a hairpin. A few rabbits carved on it. Oh, an imperfect work. One of them didn’t even have its ears of the same length. But it was all she had left.

     It was the gift Mia offered her at her birthday. Mia, her closest friend. That day, they still had life ahead of them. Lucrecia remembered Mia’s expression, her proud glance, pointing out that she was the one who had crafted the hairpin.

     She also was the last she saw leaving.

     Lucrecia brushed the hairpin with the tip of her fingers before taking it in her hands. Pinning it to her hair.

     She stepped closer to the mirror, taking a look at her reflection. Gretel was perched on her shoulder.

“How beautiful you are! All the villagers will come to see you tonight?” She asked.

“Yes, all of them will be there. They will be all together.”

“Is it the village’s chief who will begin the ceremony?”

“The village’s chief is gone. He abandoned Desphia after the goddess’s announcement. It’s the High Priest who has been watching over us since then.”

“Ohh.” Gretel blinked in surprise. “He really is someone very very important.”

“He’s everyone’s guide, here.”

“Lucrecia, it’s time to go, my child.” The old woman who had prepared her urged. “Everyone is waiting for you.”

     Nodding, Lucrecia cast a last glance at the table around which nobody will gather any more. Soon, it too would gather dust.

“Say, if I stay with you it will really help the world to be saved? This is your moment. I wouldn’t want to steal it from you.” Gretel worried.

“On the contrary. Let’s give together the goddess our love.”

“And the brambles will disappear?”

“Yes, the brambles will disappear.”

     At last, both wearing their flower wreaths, they left the house.

***

A long whine. Low. Same to a sigh filling each corner of the room. It had been emitted by the phœnix who had no choice but to hear the High Priest’s disclosure.

“This time… Our prayer will be heard. Travellers attending to the ceremony… For a fairy to witness it… Ahh, that’s a sign. Tonight will be the most magnificent present we have ever made to Kishar. What a joy! What a joy will be hers!”

     Enough was enough.

     Approaching Oswynn with great strides, the sorcerer firmly grasped his collar, abruptly crashing him against the wall. His blood-coloured eyes didn’t leave the High Priest’s ones.

“Nothing holds me back from breaking your neck.” He stated with the greatest calm. “What do you think? Why not show yourself the full scope of your love for Kishar?”

     Instead of answering, the High Priest’s smile widened, laughing in an almost convulsive way.

“You’re completely mad.” He released his collar as roughly as he had grabbed it before taking a few steps back. “How can a priest impel those who rely on him to sacrifice…”

     The laughs subsided.

“After all the crimes the people of Desphia have committed,” Oswynn breathed “there is nothing left but our lives which can be used to save.”

     The phœnix’s wails hadn’t ceased.

     A chain noise.

     Seeking laboriously support against his wings, he tried to straighten up. But barely achieved to crawl like an insect, like a mouse stuck in glue.

     Henox got distracted. By the time he turned his attention back to Oswynn, the latter had disappeared.

***

The old woman who had prepared her took charge of escorting Lucrecia, soon joined by others.

     The fog grew thicker as they walked through the village streets until they reached the central square.

     There, a great amount of wood had vacant houses’ floors. These where nobody would ever come back to live in.

     Using an improvised staircase, Lucrecia then climbed the steps one by one.

     Gretel, perched over her shoulder, glanced at the surrounding villagers. They were all dressed in dark grey hooded cloaks, similar to the one Lucrecia wore when they met. It was almost as if they were already part of the mist.

     When Lucrecia reached the summit of the makeshift tower, she turned to face the inhabitants, the little fairy in the palm of her hands.

     A large and disturbing smile spread upon her features.