I was summoned to become a sacrificial bride

“Oh my, such a beautiful bride!”

“The prettiest we've ever seen! Poor girl...”

“Shame she must die. At such a young age, too.”

My eyes snapped open, startled by the ominous words hanging in the air.

Near me were standing two older women I did not recognize at all. They took my hands and brought me in front of an old wooden mirror. The glass was distorted, full of black flecks, but I could still see myself.

I gasped.

I had a white linen blouse with puffed short sleeves. Dark blue vest on the top was embroidered with colorful floral patterns. A long skirt was flowing around my ankles, multiple layers of fabric gently caressing my skin. Soft leather shoes were hugging my feet. My brown hair, which I used to wear in a messy bun, was now silky smooth and flowing, intertwined with vibrant ribbons. The headdress built out of flowers was sitting high on my head. I was dressed in a wedding folk costume!

But… why?

Old women near me were dressed in the same fashion, even though not in such festive attire. Plain linen blouses. Aprons tied around their waists, covering long black skirts. Gray hair, meticulously hidden beneath the headscarf. That struck me as odd. Nobody wears headscarves nowadays. Not even older women. Until you end up traveling at least 30 years back in time...

I glanced around to inspect the room. Small wooden windows adorned thick whitewashed walls. Herbs and dried flowers hung from the low exposed ceiling beams, filling the air with the smell of summer. The black stove near the wall looked empty and cold. The bench in the corner was vacant, but on the dining table next to it, I could see a lot of peculiar trinkets. The cupboard next to me was filled to the brim with vintage ornaments and hand-painted ceramic dishes.

Was I in some folklore museum? It surely looked like that. Although I did not remember going into one.

A third lady appeared before me, this one even older. She was holding a bronze necklace in her hands. Usually, brides wore multiple strings of red glass beads or a cross. I never heard about a necklace made from a metal plate used for weddings. I looked at her, confused. I could feel a knot forming in my stomach, telling me, something bad is about to happen.

“I am sorry, my dear,” she said, her voice hoarse, “but to save many, one needs to be sacrificed.”

She put the metal necklace around my neck.

Something clicked, and the bronze plate seeped into my skin, its heat radiating through my throat. Wasn't metal supposed to feel cold to the touch?

“This is an Obedience necklace. You cannot put it down, and you can only obey what I say. And I tell you, you must attend the wedding, and you must meet the dragon.”

“What?” I asked. “Why am I dressed in a folk costume? What kind of strange historical play is this? Why am I even here?”

The oldest woman looked at me. “We brought you here so you will be sacrificed to the evil dragon who lives near our land,” she explained.

“Evil dragon? Are you crazy? Dragons do not exist!”

They looked at me as if I were the one who was a lunatic.

“The ritual was a success,” one of them said. “You really did it, Babena. You were able to summon a woman from a different world!”

“That was a smart move. Now our village will be safe, and none of our maidens needs to be sacrificed!”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

They did not respond. Instead, they started to clean up the room, putting things back in their respective places, pretending I didn't exist. As if… I was about to cease to exist soon.

“No,” I said. “I won’t comply with this. I do not care if this is a prank. Just stop pretending and let me go! I did not ask for this. And it's not funny.”

The bronze necklace around my neck started burning. I coughed, surprised. Suddenly, the metal plate got tighter, now choking me. I grabbed my throat, trying to get off that necklace, but I was unable to do so. Instead, it dug even deeper into my body. I could feel panic rising inside of me. I started clawing at my skin, trying to rip the necklace away along with it, but I was unsuccessful. My throat was now clenched tight as if somebody had put their hands around it and pressed. I fell onto the wooden floor, gasping for air.

The oldest woman, Babena, kneeled next to me, sweeping away hair from my sweaty forehead.

“What is your name?” she asked me as if I were not dying right now.

“Zora,” I said with a hoarse voice.

“Listen, Zora. If the necklace senses you are trying to resist, it will begin to tighten around your neck to force obedience.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” I choked.

“You must submit, Zora. Otherwise, the necklace will get so tight, your head will fall off. We don’t want you to die. Yet.”

Is this for real?

“Do you understand?” she pressed me.

Do I really have to?

“Zora!”

“Yes! Yes, I do! Are you happy now?”

The tight feeling along my neck dissipated. Suddenly, I was able to breathe freely. I rolled on the floor, breathing in heavily, trying to get back all the oxygen I lost. There on my neck, only my skin burned, scratched by my nails. Blood was already seeping through. The necklace was sitting happily on my neck, as if it did not try to suffocate me before.

Babena got up and lent me a hand, but I ignored her and got back on my feet by myself, glaring at her. I wiped saliva from the corners of my mouth with white sleeves.

“From what kind of world was this girl summoned? When is she so rude?” one of the other two women whispered.

“Not modest at all,” the second echoed.

I did not appreciate that at all. In what kind of world is it considered not rude to put on somebody's neck jewelry that beats them into submission? That was surely a crime, not a prank!

“Can we stop with the play now?” I asked. I tried to be as calm as possible, even though I was, in fact, furious. “And that necklace is not very safe. Are you sure it is legal to use it even if it is just for a prank?”

They were the ones confused now.

“What prank?”

“What does legal mean?”

I winced.

“Zora,” Babena said, “this is not your world anymore. Your rules do not have any power here. You are in Drakov now, in the village which is cursed by the evil dragon.”

“Drakov,” I repeated. “I never heard of this village.”

“Because it probably doesn’t exist in your world.”

I turned over, wanting to run out of the cottage. The Obedience necklace pulsated immediately, warning me about the consequences of my actions. I looked back at Babena.

“Can you allow me out of the house?” I asked.

She nodded.

I walked to the old, heavy wooden door and opened it. I stepped outside the cottage and looked around. My heart dropped.

I was standing on a small hill from where I could see the whole Drakov village with its tiny houses. Multiple fields and meadows spanned across the horizon, full of wheat and wildflowers. A field of bloody red poppies was striking under the golden rays of the summer sun, blue sky clear with fluffy clouds swimming lazily across the heavens. The natural scenery was breathtaking, but…

There was no single plane in the sky.

There were no electricity poles with their wires crossing the heavenly blue. There was no electricity. Did I somehow travel back in time before the 19th century?

There were no asphalt roads, nor any cars. There were no streetlights or busy signs. I did not see anything that would tell me where I am.

“What year is it?” I asked.

They were silent.

“You don’t even know what year it is?”

“It has been seven harvests since the dragon took the last bride.”

The realization of this hit me heavy on the head. My knees finally gave in.

I was looking at this beautiful, dazzling scenery, and tears were welling in my eyes. Not because I was moved, but because I felt I lost something, which I will never get back – my home.

This was not a prank. I was transported to some strange world I did not recognize. Into a world where strange rituals existed and where…

I turned to Babena, longing in my eyes replaced by fear.

“The evil dragon… does not really exist. Right?”