Why?

The chain bit into my ankles with every step as I tried to move gracefully in the long white robes my uncle forced me into that morning. Another chain kept me from standing fully, forcing me to stay bent over so the hood covered my face and no one could see how scared I was. No one was supposed to know it was me.

It shouldn’t have been me!

I heard a gasp as my robe caught on something. But one of the guards, my brother, quickly snatched the fabric free before it could tear and gently pushed me forward another step. My bare feet felt numb as I continued moving forward.

Always forward. Never stop. Don’t stop. You know what happens if you do!

I thought I was doing well. I knew what I was supposed to do. I had watched this procession before, but always on the outside, where I was safe. No one ever talked about how cold everything was despite the heavy robe. They didn’t talk about how I was supposed to be the picture of grace, humility, and obedience when I could barely see.

No one told me how to stop myself from crying as I reached the last leg of my journey.

Who in their right mind would make someone climb so many stairs with their legs bound?!

I could hear the guards whispering. Someone had to help me climb. I couldn’t see any other way to get up there, so why were they taking so long?

It’s not supposed to be me. It was never supposed to be me. Why are they doing this?!

I shivered, hugging myself until the crunch of footsteps on twigs and rock caused me to turn. I could only see their chests covered in mud and fur as they offered their hands to me.

Are they supposed to touch me? Why are their hands clean when the rest of them are caked in mud? Why won’t anyone talk to me?

I wanted to slap their hands away and run. That would have ruined the ritual, right? No one would be able to cover that up. But my legs were shaking, and my hands slowly reached out to theirs. I thought the chain around my ankles was the worst kind of binding, but those hands made the chain feel like a caress.

The guards didn’t hurt me. They didn’t dare. But they used their free hands to keep me moving forward by placing them against my back, herding me up the stairs, and not letting me rest for more than a second at a time. I thought about counting my steps. The procession never seemed that long from the safe side.

But I quickly gave up. The stairs changed my view of the world, letting me catch glimpses of the night sky. The guards might have said something. They probably did. There were only a number of people qualified to guard me tonight, and I knew them all by name. We were friends.

We were friends!

But friendship paled in the light of duty. None of the villagers said anything as they followed me up. I couldn’t hear anything beyond my pounding heart, heaving breaths, the light clink of metal scraping against the rock, and the swish of the heavy cloth that threatened to pull me down with every step.

I don’t know how I managed to reach the top. I didn’t want to look at what I knew was waiting for me. No one would have blamed me if I threw myself off the steps and let the robes help break my neck. I’m sure I’ve heard of some people doing that. But the guards weren’t taking any chances.

They were tired, too. Their gentle grips and light guidance became tight and forceful. I wasn’t pushed as long as I continued moving forward. But they were done letting me rest. I let my eyes scan everything, desperate for something to make this stop. But the priests had done their job well.

There wasn’t even a speck of dirt on the path that led to the shrine. The heavy robe refused to get tangled with the chain to give me a reason to bend over, to stop, even for just a second.

Surely, I can have just one second? Just one moment to myself before…

My guards tensed, and I heard it. Footsteps. One of the priests had arrived. He didn’t step close enough for me to see him, but I felt his gaze.

Please let him say they made a mistake. I don’t mind getting a beating if that means I can have my life back!

But the priest said nothing. No one said anything as a single pair of footsteps walked away, and a door creaked open.

No.

No one said anything as the guards tried to coax me forward.

No.

I opened my mouth, wanting to scream, cry, curse, anything to make these monsters jump. I’d do anything to make them feel the same fear building inside me, the same bone-numbing pain as one of my feet scrapped unwillingly to the shrine.

No!

I turned my head, praying to look at anyone. It didn’t matter who as long as they saw me. But the guards flanked me too well. Their bodies still didn't touch mine for fear of soiling the robe, but they still managed to block my view of anything beyond the stones in front of me—and the last set of wooden steps leading up to the shrine.

No, No. No!

The chain scraped against the wood as I took the first step. My body no longer felt like it belonged to me despite still feeling the pain and cold. I didn’t understand why I kept moving forward.

Please.

I didn’t understand why I was chosen to wear the robe.

Don’t.

I didn’t understand what my village was supposed to gain from doing this. But I found myself reaching the final step… and then the guard’s hands were gone. Everyone was gone. There was only the wood beneath my feet as the open door of the shrine beckoned me inside.

No!

The world fell away as I slowly walked in. The shrine was a symbol of our village. It was the heart of who we are and what everyone was sworn to protect from birth. I knew this. I knew this was an honor I should have been happy to receive. My family didn’t have to worry about me anymore.

No one would have to worry about me ever again… Yet the dim lighting did nothing to prevent me from seeing it. A large wooden crate waited in the center of the shrine. I didn’t know how something like it could have fit through the doors, but there it sat. Dominating the shrine despite having no form of decoration or carving to show what it was used for.

It looks like something you’d see on a dock or traveling fair. How did we find this?

I didn’t have an answer by the time I reached it. And despite still being chained, my hands still had enough strength to lift the lid and shove it aside.

I don’t want to look.

A part of me was glad that I had inconvenienced the priests, even in a childish way.

I don’t want to see.

A foul gust of wind came from the box, making me gag silently as I felt my head being pulled to look inside.

No!

I tried closing my eyes. I tried pushing against the wood to propel myself away.

No!

But just as I was unable to stop myself from walking forward and into the shrine. I was unable to stop myself from leaning forward to see… me?!

What kind of spell is this?

I was in the box. No, the person I was looking at, the one that looked like me, wasn’t in the box. They were leaning against a tree, wearing the strangest pants and shirt I’d ever seen. My twin, or whatever they were, didn’t look happy. They were wearing some kind of headband with big circles over their ears and appeared to be crying.

I couldn’t understand what was going on.

How dare they look so miserable when they’re free. Why am I the one who has to… Wait. What was supposed to happen?

I was dressed as a bride, yet there was no groom to welcome me. For the first time since my uncle woke me, I was alone.

Can I use this to escape? What if this is a trap?

No one knew what happened once the bride was inside the shrine. They were never seen again, and the priests never explained how the next bride was chosen. I looked around the room, hoping I missed something, but it wasn’t long before my attention was drawn back to the box.

My twin was standing up. She was walking away.

No!