The Bu Hai Village
Mai stared at the woman who gave birth to her; the woman's face had deep lines and weathered skin. Cataracts formed in one of her eyes, and Mai could see the large scar peeking underneath the woman's clothes. She was supposed to be the sacrifice, but that scar had saved her.
Looking at her own unblemished skin and the trembling woman before her, Mai slowly held the woman's cold hands and smiled. "Don't worry," she said, her enunciation slow and careful, "I am prepared for this day."
Sorrow instead of understanding passed through the woman's face, and Mai grew confused.
"This is all my fault," the woman said, her voice a mere whisper. "I shouldn't have done it. I should have just bore with the judgement of the chief!"
"The Great God is merciful yet swift with his plans. He did not want you to be sacrificed to him," Mai looked at the woman and hesitated. She called out a word other children of the village said, "Mama."
Shock crossed the features of the woman before her, and her trembling intensified. Mai held her hands closer to her heart and stared deeply into the woman's eyes. Mai was a head shorter than her, yet her stature was more sure.
The trembling of the woman stopped. "I know what I should do now," the woman resolutely said. "I'm sorry." She looked at the ceremonial tools to the right of her before she glanced at her only offspring- the result of a violent crime. The woman delicately picked up the knife that was to cut the sacrifice's hair to below her collarbone.
Mai grew nervous. "What are you doing?" She questioned, eyes darting between the woman's face and her now steady hands. The woman gripped the ceremonial knife in her hands and whispered words laced with steel, "I will save you."
Mai looked around the ceremonial hut, cursing the rules that forced the young sacrifices to be left alone with the one who brought them to this world. She was prepared to die, but she wanted to die on her own terms. Although being a sacrifice was not something that she had signed up for, she had decided that she would rather die and tell God to stop with the sacrifices. They were needless.
"I'm sorry," the woman whispered again and thrusted, yet the trembling of her fingers prevented her from having good aim; instead, the woman had whisked off a few threads of Mai's hair. A crazed look crossed the woman's face as she grew evermore determined. "Hold still!" The woman called out, the ornaments on the knife digging into her palm.
"No," Mai firmly responded. She quickly dodged the woman and the woman hit one of the wooden tables that they had traded the Qui'hai for. The loud noise attracted the attention of the other villagers, and the woman that had given birth to Mai was subdued.
"You can't do this to her!" The woman screamed, "She is too young to be a sacrifice!" Tears were streaming down her face as she was forced to let go of the ceremonial knife.
Mai looked across the crowd and met eyes with Dir, the only one in the village willing to look at her. His clear eyes focused on the uneven cut of her hair, and his eyebrows furrowed in worry. If he were not dictated by the village rules to not touch her, he would have ran over and see if she were okay. Noticing the worry in his face, Mai lightly nodded her head and smiled. She was okay.
"Manirva," the village chief quickly looked over at the hysterical woman and then pointed at the sacrifice, "you have almost doomed this village. Had you harmed the sacrifice, the Great God would have called the great winds and storms. Be grateful that we stopped you in time."
Mai's face was emotionless, yet she felt pity in her heart. Her mother loved her, she was sure, despite all of the untoward things that had happened to ensure that Mai was born.
Mai cleared her throat, and the village grew pensive. Her words needed to be treasured like gold- she was only allowed to say a total of fifty words a day.
"Leave her. Her head is muddled." She had only 10 words left. "The sun has fallen. I am ready to be sacrificed."
The village grew silent and pensive, yet inside they were happy. A sacrifice beget good times for the village. None except for Dir felt remorse over the loss of Mai's life.
Continuing on with the preparations, the women of the village dressed Mai in wedding gowns, the soft linen lining tickling her unblemished skin. The chief had Manirva locked up to prevent her from acting out once more.
The preparations were done in an hour, and Mai was surrounded by a fleet of ten males to protect her from the wilderness. However, Mai knew that there had not been wild animals in the forest for years. The villagers had depended on trading their crafts with other villages and the fleeting agriculture to survive.
They were guarding her to ensure that she would not escape.
Mai lightly smiled. They were wasting their time. She had no intentions to escape.
Walking lightly forward, Mai's ceremonial wedding attire was cumbersome and heavy- its beautiful cloth catching onto the leaves and twigs of the surroundings, almost as if it were expressing the emotions that Mai should have been expressing, trying to reach out to stop Mai from going further.
The men did nothing to help her; instead, they traveled faster and faster, eager to reach their destination: Mai's grave. The villagers had turned her into a doll and treated her like one. Mai turned her head to look at one of the 'guards'.
It was Albrecht, Dir's older brother. He wore the same clothes as the other men, the clothes that came from the neighboring kingdom, Ymir. Ymir collectively saw their little village as "backwards" and "underdeveloped". They gave clothes yearly to the villages as charity, but they claimed benefits from the United Kingdoms Alliance.
Mai remembered the first time she had seen Dir. It was when the leaves were beginning to fall and the cold arrived stealthily, as if giving them false hope of a long summer.
Mai was eight years old, then. It was the first time she was allowed outside of God's house, and the first time she had the sun shining down on her entire body. It was bliss.
That was when she saw him: Aldrich. He was the same age as Mai, but he, in all intents and purposes, was also the darling of the village, the village Chief's grandson and successor. The youngest son of the village Chief's family at the time when the Chief is 40 years old will be the successor. Aldrich was the youngest at that time.
It was Mai who saw Aldrich first. He was playing ball with the other village kids, unaware that they had accidentally broken one of the first rituals of the sacrificial offering. However, village Chief Owansu was not angry. Instead, he had broken into smile.
"Aldrich," he warmly called out, extending a hand towards the playing children. "Come here."
The children had stopped playing by then, curious as to why the village Chief had called away their leader. Aldrich, however, paled when he noticed the young girl before him- the young girl with translucent skin and long, dark hair. He knew her, and he knew what they did to her was wrong.
"Grandfather," Aldrich replied, a dark emotion crossing his face. He was the only one allowed to affectionally call the village Chief 'Grandfather'. Not even his father was allowed to call the village Chief 'Father'.
Chief Owansu looked at Aldrich and stepped before him, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You will do this one day. Stay here and see what is to happen."
Mai faintly smiled at the interactions between Chief Owansu and Aldrich; she was being treated like air. Less than air. At least living beings require air to survive. She, on the other hand, was an expendable that costed a pretty penny but could be procured any time. Casting her gaze towards the nurturing grandfather and disciple grandchild, Mai was startled when her eyes met the boy's. It was the first time since a year ago that someone had looked her in the eye. The woman who had accidentally made eye contact had screamed when she had done so and was required to bow down to God for forty days and nights. She died.
Chief Owansu looked towards the sacrificial offering, his smile changing for a stern look. He became one with the Earth and Sky, channeling good will and faith to the Great God. His booming voice made all the villagers shiver, but the young girl in the white robes looked on with a smile as if she were an observer and not the doll that they were grooming.
"Great God," Chief Owansu called out, "here is the one which we will sacrifice. She is the one which we will sacrifice." The villagers began to chant along, echoing the ending of Chief Ownasu's words. "Let the village prosper." He paused and allowed the villagers to echo 'prosper' ten times. "If the Great God has denied this sacrifice, let the Great God call down thunder."
The villagers tensed and stared at the sky while the great booming noises of the drum stilled. All were silent during the observation. Mai glanced at the ground, she knew that Chief Owansu would have picked a day where no rain nor thunder would be expected; she knew that this was all planned.
Another looked at Mai and not the sky. It was Aldrich, his deep brown eyes looking at the young girl in sadness. He had heard things and seen things and learned things in the neighboring Kingdom of Ymir. And he learned about the way of the world. Sacrifices were useless- the death of an individual cannot bring the prosperity of a village, so the death of the young girl before him was useless. They were the same age, yet he could see a matureness that he lacked in her eyes. It was not until later that he realized it was her acceptance of death.
Chief Owansu raised his hands after the villagers confirmed that the sacrificial offering was accepted. "The offering will have four years outside of God's hut. If she remains unblemished on the day of her 12th birthday, she will be sacrificed."
With a final boom of the drums, the ceremony finished, and the young girl's fate was determined with the raising of two hands. Mai looked at the villagers, her eyes thinking back to the voice that she had heard since two years ago.
...
"Look up."
Mai looked up. She was still in God's place, a small circular hut with a single room and a small extension opposite the entrance. She stared at the ceiling made of the grasses that the maids had called grassroots.
"That is you," the voice continued, yet Mai was unafraid. After she had accepted her death, she was no longer afraid of anything except for her death in instances other than as a sacrifice. "You are a grassroots."
Mai had not spoken that day, so she could afford to use more words than she was used to. "What do you mean?" She asked, "How am I grassroots?"
The voice sadly chuckled. "Humans are sad creatures. Even when given a chance, they do not change for the better."
Remaining silent, Mai continued to look at the grassroots ceiling, noticing its weaving pattern. The voice continued, "Goodnight, Mai."
That was the first contact Mai had had with the voice; she was 6-years old. From that moment on, the voice had instructed her about humans, life, and death. Mai grew wise and calmer in the face of humanity's stupidity.
More than once had the voice asked her if she wanted to change her fate, but Mai was adamant not to. Mai held the faint hope that she could somehow change the villagers. The voice remained in heavy silence before it spoke, "You are too pure," it said, melancholy.
Returning from her memories, Mai looked straight ahead, lifting her marriage attire higher. They were closer towards her grave. She could hear the chanting of the villagers as they asked for better harvest, better weather, and better opportunities in the future. Mai could almost laugh. The one voice that she was looking for, however, was not there. Dir had probably blamed himself.
The rest of the walk was quick and the group came upon the clearing where the remaining villagers were waiting around a deep, square-shaped hole. Her resting place.
The villagers grew quiet upon seeing the sacrificial offering and her clothes; the young girl was a newly-formed bud that would have become a breath-taking flower if she were not to be plucked today.
Chief Owansu raised his arms again, and Mai walked out of the cage of men. She faintly smiled when she saw Dir's face, and, when two of the villagers slowly lowered her in her grave, she closed her eyes. She remembered the time Dir had spoken to her, the second day after her release from God's place.