“[Sacrifice]? [Sacrifice]!” Oma scolded, and Velmira snapped out of her daydream. She sat on a bench with a pitcher of water, which she’d previously been pouring for the weak and ill that’d been drawn to the temple for blessings. “Where is your head at, girl?” she asked.

  “My apologies, High Priestess Oma, I was just wondering what tonight would be like,” Velmira lied. No, she’d been wondering about life━a future━with Edard, traveling the world just like he always said, and seeing far off places.

  “Everything will go as planned, fret not,” Oma said.

  “I should hope. I have been preparing for it my whole life; nearly eighteen years, High Priestess, although . . .”

  “Although?” Oma asked, voice darkening. She nearly loomed over Velmira, standing with a tray of bandages. She set the bandages aside, then took a seat beside Velmira. “Tell me what’s weighing you down, child?”

  Vel stared at Oma for a long moment, considering to even say anything at all, but she had to know. She hoped that it wasn’t true, but at the same time, hoped that it was. If it was, then she had been lied to. “I heard a rumor that the [sacrifice] was reincarnated,” she said.

  Oma’s brow raised, and her lips parted ever so slightly. The silence was a bit longer than was comfortable, and Velmira could feel it weigh down on her shoulders. My soul wouldn’t pass on, she thought. How could there be a heaven for someone who returned after their sacrifice?

  “Where did you hear such a strange rumor?” Oma asked. “[Sacrifice], dear, another will be born to take on your sacred duties, and she will not be you.”

  “Then she should have a different identity?” Vel asked.

  “Certainly,” Oma said, brushing back Vel’s hair. “She might have two eyes like you, a nose like you, and a mouth, but she would not have your hair or your height. The next [sacrifice] will be another person of holy nature, preordained by the gods.”

  “A name?”

  “A name?” Oma asked, brow raised. “Child, no name is more proper or holier than the one granted by the gods themselves.”

  They are lying to me, Velmira thought, frowning. She slowly set the pitcher aside. “I’m sorry to ask all of this, High Priestess,” she said, playing the part of an obedient [sacrifice]. If Oma knew what she really thought . . . well, she couldn’t risk the High Priestess thinking she would run, even if she was actually planning to. “It was improper of me. My fear was unfounded.”

  “Who told you such a thing anyways?” Oma asked.

  “A visitor, recently,” Velmira lied, and looked over the meager crowd that the priests and priestesses tended to. “I do not see him anymore.”

  “Ah, well then, best to put your mind at ease for now,” Oma advised, and Vel nodded, picking her pitcher back up and moving to get back to her duties. Duties, defined by the temple.

  The [sacrifice] never had real duties━not having access to skills and stats like everyone else━which left the temple to give them to her. Simple tasks, really, to take off the load of work that those with skills had. What Velmira couldn’t figure out was what would happen if she wasn’t sacrificed.

  But that won’t stop me, she thought, resolved to let Edard take her far, far away.

  As the day stretched on, the ever looming sun inching towards the horizon, Vel knew that her moment to leave was coming soon. She needed an opening, so she collected sheets that had been used in the day’s work for the ill to lie on. No one would question her for taking them to wash. There was a large tub set on the back side of the temple specifically for this task, and as she crossed the courtyard and made her way, safely hidden behind the wall the tub was against, she looked towards the back gates.

  The guards, like usual, were stationed there, and without the shift change, she had to come up with another idea on how to get them to move, let alone unlock the gate. Placing the sheets beside the tub, she stared at it, then looked at the wall.

  Ha! She didn’t need to get through the gate, she needed to get over the wall! She considered dumping the tub, but thought that’d look too suspicious. Instead, she moved along the side of the building towards the corner of the wall. Rounding it, she came to the well, unoccupied, and a few unused buckets beside it, waiting for refills.

  Collecting the buckets, she placed them at the base of the wall, stacked on each other for the extra height. Stepping up on them, she jumped, and grabbed a hold of the wall’s ledge.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Holy Retribution! she cursed internally, gritting her teeth. How did Edard make this look so easy! Unable to hoist herself up, she dropped back down, refraining from yelping when she tripped and fell. Either she was going to need more buckets or something else to stand on, maybe both. A chair, she figured, would be optimal.

  Deciding that there was little time left before she’d be collected for her sacrificial ceremony preparations, Velmira made her way inside. She froze, seeing a priestess at the other end carrying two buckets. She doesn’t know, she thought, she couldn’t know, she tried to slow her racing heart.

  “I can fill those for you,” she offered as the priestess neared. This was one of the new temple patrons, very recently; Vel didn’t recognize her.

  “Oh, it’s no worries,” the yellow haired priestess said.

  “Please, it’s one of my important duties, Priestess,” Velmira said. “I am [Sacrifice], my responsibility is to support those with skills.”

  “Oh, [Sacrifice]!” the priestess gave a brief respectful bow of her head, though her demeanor seemed darker somehow, a guilty look dancing across her eyes as she averted her gaze. “I had not realized who you were. I’m very sorry I tried to rob you of your tasks.”

  “Please, it’s no worries,” Vel smiled, collecting the empty buckets from her. “I’m sure you’re still getting used to being here.”

  “I am, yes. I only arrived yesterday. Please, call me Amalia,” she said.

  “Thank you, Priestess Amalia.” With that, Velmira turned around, and stepped back outside. She let out a sigh of relief as the door closed, then rushed back to her prior buckets on the ground, stacking the new ones up.

  Once she was on them, she could finally see over the wall, people passing by on the streets. That was new. She was so used to the streets being empty, but it was far earlier than when she normally snuck out. So . . . right, no pressure, just don’t make a scene.

  She jumped, latching onto the wall and kicking herself up until she was sitting on it. Already, there were some concerned citizens. What? Don’t see priestesses sitting on walls everyday? she asked in her head, and placed her feet on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she jumped down, and with a deep crouch, managed to only stumble.

  “Are you alright?” someone asked.

  Velmira ignored them, and ran down the street. News of her stunt was going to reach the temple rather quickly, and people would come looking for her. There was no time to waste, not when she was to be sacrificed to the gods at midnight. It took her a moment, coming from a different street, to find her way to that same, familiar spot where she always met Edard.

  While it looked different in the fading daylight, she still found the spot to be just as exciting as she had for the past two months. People passed through it, giving her strange looks, the lights weren’t lit yet, and . . . and . . .

  “Edard?” Vel asked, searching for him among the passing faces. “Edard?” she asked, a little louder. Where was he? Her steps kicked up dirt as she rounded the fountain, ever searching.

  “Edard!” she called, but there was no return of his sweet deep tones.

  “He left you.”

  Velmira snapped her head towards High Priestess Oma, who stood at the end of the fountain square in her regal robes, accompanied by two of the gate guards.

  “What?” Vel asked, her brow furrowing. There was an ache radiating from deep within her chest, and she reached a hand up, grabbing at it, consequently finding the pendant there. “No, he wouldn’t,” she denied.

  “Child,” Oma sighed, her expression shifting to one of sadness. “Had I known about him sooner, I’d have protected you from his cons. Edard was a liar and a thief.”

  “No,” Velmira said, shaking her head. “No, no, no, that can’t be true!”

  “I heard word that he’d left early this morning. He got what he needed here, [Sacrifice], and he is a known enemy of the church. He was trying to prevent you from performing your sacred and vital duties,” Oma said.

  “No . . .” Velmira’s voice cracked, and the tears spilled from her eyes. It can’t be true! she thought, he . . . he . . . She ran her finger over the pendant. “I-I loved him,” she sobbed out, falling to her knees and holding her face.

  Tender arms wrapped around her, and Vel could hear Oma’s voice rumble from her comforter’s chest. “I know, child. Had I caught on sooner, I would have saved you the heartache,” she said. “I could have protected you.”

  It can’t be true! Velmira thought, shaking her head. Yet, if it weren’t, where was he now?

  “Come on, let’s get you back to the temple and all cleaned up, okay?”

  It felt like there was nothing Vel could do to stop Oma from hauling her away, her feet stumbling along beneath her. The walk was long, despite the short distance, the extra eyes of bystanders more prominent to Velmira now that the emotions had spilled out of her.

  As they passed the temple threshold, the tears dried up, she asked, “Why would he do this? Why spend so much time just to leave?”

  Oma sighed, and turned, facing her, “because there are many evil men in the world, some with no rhyme or reason to what they do. He could do it, so he did.”

  A thief, Vel repeated in her head, holding the pendent. No, if he was a thief, then he would not have left without something so precious. “Do you love me?” Velmira asked Oma.

  “Of course I love you, dear,” Oma said, “I raised you.”

  But you didn’t name me, Edard did, she thought, still fighting for him in her heart.

  “Come on,” Oma said, and pulled at Vel’s arm.

  Oma routed Vel to the second floor and left her with two priestesses to help her wash up and dress for the ceremony. It was the same dress as always, a simple white and gold robe known to the priestesses of the temple, except she got an opaque veil this time, one she was supposed to pull over her face before the sacrifice.

  One of the priestesses left the room to retrieve more pins, leaving Velmira alone with Priestess Amalia, who looked up at her with saddened eyes.

  “I shouldn’t say this,” Amalia started, and Velmira looked at the woman who adjusted her veil, “but I overheard Oma talking to someone outside the gates this morning. She was telling a [hunter] to dispose of someone in the western woods.”