DEMISE

PART SIX: SACRIFICE

Act from love and you may be blessed, but act from hate and selfishness, beware! For you shall always be damned. —Caligoson Scripture

"Deidamia? Can you come help me chop some vegetables for the stew tonight?" Rayne called from the kitchen. A few moments later, Deidamia appeared in the doorway, silently grabbing a knife from a rack and making her way over to a large leek sitting on the countertop. She had been strangely quiet ever since the incident at school, two years ago. It was a day before her "birthday," celebrated one month before the anniversary of the day Rayne found her.

"I'll make a cake for your birthday this year, and color it with extracts from the garden," Rayne said fondly to her adopted daughter.

Deidamia smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Rayne, I'm sure it will be delicious."

The conversation died down, and Rayne and her adopted daughter stood quietly chopping for several minutes, until Deidamia suddenly let out a hiss of pain, having cut herself.

Rayne turned to examine the sliced finger and froze at the sight of her blood. It wasn't red.

It was black.

Horrified, Rayne looked back up. "No..." she whispered, remembering in horror the words of Seer Rosaline: "The gods will reveal all in time." Her adopted daughter's eyes met hers calmly, as Deidamia nodded her head slowly.

Almost before she realized what she was doing, Rayne looked towards the doorway and called "Demarkalos?"

~~**~~

"I knew it!" Lepkatrana shrieked triumphantly. "I knew that child was unnatural! And now that witch will finally be sacrificed, as she deserves!"

"Deserves? Deserves? How dare you call Deidamia a witch, you immoral--!"

The entire gathering of villagers turned towards Rayne in shock. Her seething outburst was unlike anything they had ever heard from the normally reticent huntress.

Lepkatrana opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off when Chief Melrosana and Seer Rosaline appeared, both looking exhausted.

"Chief," Lepkatrana said sweetly. "The child, the one that everyone says is a witch—" Rayne drew a sharp breath "—has been revealed. Her blood—"

"—is black," Seer Rosaline said, her mismatched eyes flitting briefly over the red-head in distaste. "We already know." She eyed Deidamia sadly. "She is the child of the prophecy. And by my count, the solar eclipse...is tomorrow."

"No!" Rayne shrieked. "No! You cannot take my daughter! I won't allow it!" Mark voiced similar sediments.

"She's not your daughter..." Lepkatrana sneered and Rayne lost her patience. Springing forward, she put years of hardened huntress strength to good use as she slammed her fist into Lepkatrana's jaw. Many of the villagers cried out in outrage, while others remained indifferent. A council member (a different one, incidentally, than the one Lepkatrana was involved with when Deidamia was first discovered) rushed forward and directed loud remonstrations towards Rayne and her husband as he clumsily attempted to examine Lepkatrana's wound, who ungratefully smacked his hand away.

Reviela suddenly emerged from the crowd. "She has a broken jaw," she uninterestedly, surveying Lepkatrana in disdain. "Put some snow on it and wrap a bandage around her head. She won't be able to talk for a while." At this pronouncement, she looked up and saw a faint glimmer of satisfaction in the depths of Rayne's bright blue eyes, before the huntress turned to make a plea to the Chief.

"Chief Melrosana, you can't possibly be thinking of letting them sacrifice...?" she asked.

As she opened her mouth to defend Rayne's case, Melrosana's eyes were drawn to Deidamia's stormy grey ones. A curious look was etched on the teenager's face, and the faintest trace of a smile painted her lips.

"I'm sorry Rayne, but this prophecy has existed for centuries. It must be fulfilled for the good of Caligoso." The words tumbled out of her mouth, without her consent, as if someone else had said them for her. Time seemed frozen as Rayne turned away, tears in her eyes, Mark glared at his leader, and Deidamia's face lit up with an emotion that wasn't joy or happiness, but something similar to triumph.

~~**~~

The villagers gathered around the stone circle, watching as the family of the victim came towards the sacrificial stone. Rayne's eyes were red and puffy, and tears leaking from beneath her eyelids and slowly trickling down her face, as Mark tried to comfort her. Deidamia followed them, looking stoic as ever. She was dressed in a plain black blouse and skirt, tied with a blood-red cloth belt. Her profile, deep in the rustic woods, shaded by the ever-darkening sky, would have been quite artistic, had it not been in such fatal circumstances. Seer Rosaline had refused to commit the sacrifice, so the village executioner stood grimly, a large knife in his hand.

"Lay down on the stone, child," Chief Melrosana said quietly, flinching as Rayne suddenly flung her arms around the girl and sobbed uncontrollably. They stood there for many moments, in a tight embrace, before an impatient noise from a council member broke them apart and shattered their moment, bringing them back to the death which was soon to occur.

The executioner came forward to grab Deidamia, but she shook off his grasp, choosing instead to come in her own free will. As she reached the stone and lifted herself onto it, she turned to look back at Rayne one last time.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she whispered, regret lacing her features, before she laid down on the long rock. A pang jolted through Rayne; it was the first time Deidamia had ever recognized her as a maternal figure. Seer Rosaline gave a tremulous speech that was drowned out by the waves of sorrow rushing and berating Rayne as she watched her adopted daughter lie flat, her narrow chest rising and falling in a motion that was soon to cease.

Rosaline stepped back and nodded sadly at the executioner. He stood solemnly over his victim, looking down at the young girl he was to kill. The steadily darkening sky finally turned pitch black, and the time of midnight day was upon them; his dagger rose above his head, poised directly over Deidamia's steadily beating heart, and slashed downwards.