Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
NOW!
A smash, a reverbanance, a resonance, another day of life.
Here we are
Here we are
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Some years earlier...
Blessed be the hand, accept my offering as sacrifice.
Yon calf is spotted, yet thine child is not? Hath thou shaved all hair from his body?
No *stutters* nay, mine child was born this way. Unmarked. He is suitable for sacrifice?
*pause* Aye.
Blessed be th...
Leave now.
Blessed be the hand, accept my offering as sacrifice.
Yon calf is spotted, yet thine child is not? Hath thou shaved all hair from his body?
No *stutters* nay, mine child was born this way. Unmarked. He is suitable for sacrifice?
*pause* Aye.
Blessed be th...
Leave now.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Child, can you hear me, do you understand?
I hear you.
Are you special?
Why do you say that?
Should I sacrifice you, or keep you for myself?
I dont want to die. Ever.
No doubt i will find favour both ways.
Am I special?
Surely you want life.
I dont want to die!
I suppose you may keep yours for now.
Can you hear me?
I hear you.
Are you special?
Why do you say that?
Should I sacrifice you, or keep you for myself?
I dont want to die. Ever.
No doubt i will find favour both ways.
Am I special?
Surely you want life.
I dont want to die!
I suppose you may keep yours for now.
Can you hear me?
12.August.2015: Never forget.
I felt sorry for the animals that went under the blade that day. Especially the spotless calf that was taken in next to me. Still, better them than me. Some had their throat slit by acolytes under supervision by older dour men. Some were simply thrown onto the great fire, sending up a blaze of burnt hair, or feathers, or embers, or choking smoke.
It could have been me.
Some of them tried to run, pulling against leashes, flapping wings, stomping hooves, pitting animal strength against human ruthlessness. They lost offcourse. One pig did break away with a string of panicked acolytes chasing. It was brought short by some kind of magic from a sideburned man.
Poor pig. You almost escaped.
The great bonfire was soon glutted with animals. Black smoke billowed, twisting, hiding the stars. Someone was holding my hand. I was cold most of the time, until the smoke washed over us. Then I was warm but couldnt breathe. I tried to hide behind the one holding my hand, but he grabbed my ear and made me stand next to him, watching.
There a lost of blood on the altar, and ground. Some of the acolytes were drenched in it. Face, hair, robes and all. A few looked happy, most didnt. I guess that kind of thing takes getting used to. Something was building in the air. Tension maybe. I could feel it in the air, in the mood of those around me. I tried to hide again and got a twisted air for my troubles. I didnt cry out and the tears dried on my face. My eyes hurt from the smoke.
I heards screaming. Not from the animals, but a person. Six of the acolytes were carrying a woman, a girl maybe to the altar. She wriggled, and struggled, and screamed. Two on each leg, one on each arm. She wasnt going to escape I thought.
I was right.
They tied her down. I think I saw her family looking on. Weeping. Her mother anyway. Her father didnt say anything. Another younger daughter was clutched in her mothers arms. She was crying as well. They needed some of this smoke. It dried the tears.
The sideburned one stood over the altar and his sacrifice. He was smiling. The older dour men looked on without comment. He raised a curved knife. His hands were trembling. I could see that even from here. Slowly, oh so slowly, her screams became gurgles. The sobbing from her mother became wails, and the hand around mine tightened and led me away from the blood, the smoke and the death. I was grateful.
Poor pig, you almost escaped.
It could have been me.
Some of them tried to run, pulling against leashes, flapping wings, stomping hooves, pitting animal strength against human ruthlessness. They lost offcourse. One pig did break away with a string of panicked acolytes chasing. It was brought short by some kind of magic from a sideburned man.
Poor pig. You almost escaped.
The great bonfire was soon glutted with animals. Black smoke billowed, twisting, hiding the stars. Someone was holding my hand. I was cold most of the time, until the smoke washed over us. Then I was warm but couldnt breathe. I tried to hide behind the one holding my hand, but he grabbed my ear and made me stand next to him, watching.
There a lost of blood on the altar, and ground. Some of the acolytes were drenched in it. Face, hair, robes and all. A few looked happy, most didnt. I guess that kind of thing takes getting used to. Something was building in the air. Tension maybe. I could feel it in the air, in the mood of those around me. I tried to hide again and got a twisted air for my troubles. I didnt cry out and the tears dried on my face. My eyes hurt from the smoke.
I heards screaming. Not from the animals, but a person. Six of the acolytes were carrying a woman, a girl maybe to the altar. She wriggled, and struggled, and screamed. Two on each leg, one on each arm. She wasnt going to escape I thought.
I was right.
They tied her down. I think I saw her family looking on. Weeping. Her mother anyway. Her father didnt say anything. Another younger daughter was clutched in her mothers arms. She was crying as well. They needed some of this smoke. It dried the tears.
The sideburned one stood over the altar and his sacrifice. He was smiling. The older dour men looked on without comment. He raised a curved knife. His hands were trembling. I could see that even from here. Slowly, oh so slowly, her screams became gurgles. The sobbing from her mother became wails, and the hand around mine tightened and led me away from the blood, the smoke and the death. I was grateful.
Poor pig, you almost escaped.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
How old was I at the time of that sacrifice? Old enough to walk I suppose. Young enough that my shoulder hurt from reaching up to hold the hand of the man next to me. I was led inside, into smokey corridors, past smokey rooms, down, always down.
My new home I was told. Communal. How wonderful. I was left all alone with a promise that I would be sent for soon. It was a big room. I was small. Out of place. Scared. I started to cry. There was no sacrificial fire here to dry the tears on my face. I heard footsteps. Lots of them.
The acolytes had returned, covered in blood. Some were smiling and joking. Others looked sick. Leading them was the sideburned one. He marched right up and then over me, pushing me roughly to the ground with a smirk. They trod over me, taking no care to avoid standing on my hands or legs. One of the bastards even kick me in the stomach as he went past.
I just lay there weeping, holding my stomach. Waiting for something or someone to save me. The sobbing did not go unnoticed. The acolytes were stipping and washing, putting on clean robes. The sideburned one now clean walked softly up to me.
"Poor thing" he said sympatheticly "did I hurt you? I am so sorry, how careless of me, shall I make it better?". I didnt reply, just looked at him fearfully. He nodded kindly and reached for the air with his right hand. He spoke... something and put his hand on my shoulder.
I felt it.
Clawing.
Drawing.
My life being taken.
I screamed straight into his face with the strength that only the dying know. My death stopped, as he fell back in suprise. The others laughed at him. His face twisted in anger as he reached for the air again. A familiar hand grabbed his and clenched. From the gimace of the old man holding it, twas he that felt the death.
The old man snarled and spat words of his own. Alien words. The sideburned one now shook with the dying. He crumpled in the old mans grip then was released. He lay, limply, breathing barely, but looking at me. I could see blame in his eyes.
I did not see this ending well for one of us.
My new home I was told. Communal. How wonderful. I was left all alone with a promise that I would be sent for soon. It was a big room. I was small. Out of place. Scared. I started to cry. There was no sacrificial fire here to dry the tears on my face. I heard footsteps. Lots of them.
The acolytes had returned, covered in blood. Some were smiling and joking. Others looked sick. Leading them was the sideburned one. He marched right up and then over me, pushing me roughly to the ground with a smirk. They trod over me, taking no care to avoid standing on my hands or legs. One of the bastards even kick me in the stomach as he went past.
I just lay there weeping, holding my stomach. Waiting for something or someone to save me. The sobbing did not go unnoticed. The acolytes were stipping and washing, putting on clean robes. The sideburned one now clean walked softly up to me.
"Poor thing" he said sympatheticly "did I hurt you? I am so sorry, how careless of me, shall I make it better?". I didnt reply, just looked at him fearfully. He nodded kindly and reached for the air with his right hand. He spoke... something and put his hand on my shoulder.
I felt it.
Clawing.
Drawing.
My life being taken.
I screamed straight into his face with the strength that only the dying know. My death stopped, as he fell back in suprise. The others laughed at him. His face twisted in anger as he reached for the air again. A familiar hand grabbed his and clenched. From the gimace of the old man holding it, twas he that felt the death.
The old man snarled and spat words of his own. Alien words. The sideburned one now shook with the dying. He crumpled in the old mans grip then was released. He lay, limply, breathing barely, but looking at me. I could see blame in his eyes.
I did not see this ending well for one of us.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
It was that easy to make an enemy. It was enough just to be me. To be the newest. The youngest. The smallest. Sideburns I will name him. He had a real name, but I will not give him that now. You dont need to know, nor does he deserve the dignity a name allows. A powerful enemy in that environment. The biggest of the big fish in a small pond. Isnt that the saying?
Still with the old man gone and sideburns slumped on his sleeping mat glaring daggers at me the others gathered around. Got a name? they wanted to know. Where is your hair? said more rubbing my bald pate and staring at where i should have been blessed with eyebrows. I was to shy to reply. I just looked at the ground. The questions grew less and the comments grew more.
He cant hear us.
He is slow.
Why is he here, he should have been on the fire.
His days are numbered now.
His father must have been a mole.
The comments became derogatory. Worse and worse insults they heaped upon me. An easy target. They wiped their bloody hands on my face, pretended to check their appearance in my shining pate, and flicked dust from the floor to my legs.
I endured. I was not ready for the alternative. I WILL NEVER be ready.
YOU'LL NOT TAKE ME!
Still with the old man gone and sideburns slumped on his sleeping mat glaring daggers at me the others gathered around. Got a name? they wanted to know. Where is your hair? said more rubbing my bald pate and staring at where i should have been blessed with eyebrows. I was to shy to reply. I just looked at the ground. The questions grew less and the comments grew more.
He cant hear us.
He is slow.
Why is he here, he should have been on the fire.
His days are numbered now.
His father must have been a mole.
The comments became derogatory. Worse and worse insults they heaped upon me. An easy target. They wiped their bloody hands on my face, pretended to check their appearance in my shining pate, and flicked dust from the floor to my legs.
I endured. I was not ready for the alternative. I WILL NEVER be ready.
YOU'LL NOT TAKE ME!
12.August.2015: Never forget.
The new one. The low one. The outsider. That was me. The different. How was this fair?
The is no fair in life nor death. It just is.
Things are easier with an adults perspective. At the time i just cried myself to sleep in a corner far removed from the acolytes.
I awoke to the old man shaking me roughly. He took my hand and lead me down more corridors to a huge underground room. It was dusty in the corners. There was a huge statue at one end. A barechested man with a gauntlet on his right hand. He looked angry.
The old man pointed and spoke "That is Bane, our master. I am Gilreb. The master of everyone here. The one who hurt you last night is Orark, he is your master. You are the master of nothing and no one. Do you understand?"
I nodded. Up until the introduction of Bane it was obvious to me allready what my place was on the pecking order. One more above me made little difference, especially since this Bane didnt look like to much trouble. He was just a statue after all.
Gilreb looked pleased with my grip on the situation, he went on "You would have been a fine sacrifice in Banes name child" he said rubbing his liver spotted hand over my bald head "your father thought so as well, he didnt want you". He studied my reaction. There was little to study. I didnt say anything, or move, or gave any sign beyond looking up at his eyes that I was listening at all.
He shifted his weight to the other side and looked around the room. It was poorly lit, many torches were unlit, or missing. Gilreb spoke a word and light flared up in the ceiling, it was obvious in the light how dirty the room was. Bane had some dust on his nose.
Gilreb took me by my hand again and led me to stand right in front of the statue. "As I said child, Bane is the master here, I lead the others, who in turn lead you. Position here is maintained by Banes favour, if he like you the most, he raises you up above the others. Offcourse, he looks favourably upon the strong and those who help themselves" again whilst speaking he watched my face intently. "Orark hurt you to show his place, and to show you yours. In time you might rise above him, and exercise your right to hurt him back. Would you like that?" his eyes sparkled in the magical light.
I knew what he wanted to hear, and it was true, I did want to hurt Orark. Better him than me. I nodded again marking the satisfied look in his eyes.
His wrinkled old dried up face creased into a smile "I will give you a helping hand then, you are my personal aide now, it will be your role to aide me in the ceremonies, to keep my things in order, and watch over my interests". What a kind old fellow he was. Even for a priest of Bane.
I pulled the hem of my sleeve over my hand and darted forward to the mightily armored boot of Bane. I wiped a little dust off and looked to Gilreb. He chuckled and beckoned me to his side.
In just one night, I had been discarded by my family, avoided sacrifice, nearly had the life drained from me, yet now I had gained myself some measure of protection and favor. I was exceptional. Even in those days.
The is no fair in life nor death. It just is.
Things are easier with an adults perspective. At the time i just cried myself to sleep in a corner far removed from the acolytes.
I awoke to the old man shaking me roughly. He took my hand and lead me down more corridors to a huge underground room. It was dusty in the corners. There was a huge statue at one end. A barechested man with a gauntlet on his right hand. He looked angry.
The old man pointed and spoke "That is Bane, our master. I am Gilreb. The master of everyone here. The one who hurt you last night is Orark, he is your master. You are the master of nothing and no one. Do you understand?"
I nodded. Up until the introduction of Bane it was obvious to me allready what my place was on the pecking order. One more above me made little difference, especially since this Bane didnt look like to much trouble. He was just a statue after all.
Gilreb looked pleased with my grip on the situation, he went on "You would have been a fine sacrifice in Banes name child" he said rubbing his liver spotted hand over my bald head "your father thought so as well, he didnt want you". He studied my reaction. There was little to study. I didnt say anything, or move, or gave any sign beyond looking up at his eyes that I was listening at all.
He shifted his weight to the other side and looked around the room. It was poorly lit, many torches were unlit, or missing. Gilreb spoke a word and light flared up in the ceiling, it was obvious in the light how dirty the room was. Bane had some dust on his nose.
Gilreb took me by my hand again and led me to stand right in front of the statue. "As I said child, Bane is the master here, I lead the others, who in turn lead you. Position here is maintained by Banes favour, if he like you the most, he raises you up above the others. Offcourse, he looks favourably upon the strong and those who help themselves" again whilst speaking he watched my face intently. "Orark hurt you to show his place, and to show you yours. In time you might rise above him, and exercise your right to hurt him back. Would you like that?" his eyes sparkled in the magical light.
I knew what he wanted to hear, and it was true, I did want to hurt Orark. Better him than me. I nodded again marking the satisfied look in his eyes.
His wrinkled old dried up face creased into a smile "I will give you a helping hand then, you are my personal aide now, it will be your role to aide me in the ceremonies, to keep my things in order, and watch over my interests". What a kind old fellow he was. Even for a priest of Bane.
I pulled the hem of my sleeve over my hand and darted forward to the mightily armored boot of Bane. I wiped a little dust off and looked to Gilreb. He chuckled and beckoned me to his side.
In just one night, I had been discarded by my family, avoided sacrifice, nearly had the life drained from me, yet now I had gained myself some measure of protection and favor. I was exceptional. Even in those days.
12.August.2015: Never forget.