“But… but… mother?” whispered Nari, cupping his hands over his mouth as the tears welled in his eyes. “F-Father?” His eyes darted between his parents, who both had very solemn expressions on their faces. Nari’s father, Tyn, leaned in the clay doorframe of their hut, while his mother Yall sat next to him on his burlap cot on the ground. His mother tried to smooth his hair to calm him, but he pulled away, his eyes wide, astonished, as the tears began to fall.
“My son… please understand me…” whispered Tyn, pushing off from the doorframe. “I’ve done everything I could. I’ve… I’ve pleaded with the council. I’ve said all that I…”
“No, you didn’t!” accused the young boy, wiping his eyes and batting his mother’s hand away.
“Son…” said Tyn again, his own eyes watering. “I did. You… you cannot understand what I had to go through…”
Nari covered his eyes, weeping heavily and leaning against the wall of the room, not looking at his parents any longer. While his son wasn’t looking, Tyn groaned from the effort to walk, his back still threatening to open and bleed again after the brutal whipping he had received during his attempt to free Nari from the young boy’s obligation.
“Why?” said Nari finally, still not looking at his family. “Why?”
“It is an annual tradition. You know this, Nari. And… not I, nor your mother… nor even the council can do anything about it. It is all…”
“Sarne,” said Nari, swallowing hard, the mere mention of the name hurting his throat.
Tyn nodded. “Yes,” he answered dryly. “It is her command. At the commencement of every year, we must climb her mountain, and give her the one chosen through the sacred selection process. It was you, and only you.”
“Why?” asked Nari in the same unfeeling voice, clearly unsatisfied.
“To guarantee that our island is given the rain and the sun, the vegetation and the livestock. The birth of children, a peaceful passing for the elderly. It is because of her that all of this happens, and we are allowed to live as we do: without fear of disease or conflict. But… to keep it this way, what she demands, once a year…”
“Is one of us,” sniffled Nari. The shorter-than-average ten-year-old boy finally stood to his feet, scratching at his scrawny neck absentmindedly, his knees quivering from the effort to not think about it. He swallowed hard again.
“To show that we keep our faith. As you know, we are required to devote the time just before the sun sets to worshipping her from within our homes, and sending out our thoughts for her benefit. But, she wants to ensure that we are sincere in our prayers…” said Tyn, his voice cracking. “Son… believe me, if I could, I would go in your stead without ever giving it another thought or doubt. But you have heard the stories… your mother has told you. Of Sarne’s reaction when…”
“…they sent someone else…” whispered Nari despondently. “I know. She came down from her mountain, and-”
“Destroyed everything. Everyone. She set everything aflame, left no house destroyed, no animal standing, no plant uncut. No person alive, except for a few, from which she restarted the civilization of our island,” Tyn finished, wiping his eyes again. “Son… I am sorry. I am. But…”
“I know,” sighed Nari before bursting into tears again, finally allowing his mother to embrace him.
“We will go with you. All the way up, son,” said Yall, crying as well. “We will see that you have no fear when you go.”
The morning was foggy as the deliverance party scaled the mountain the next day. Tyn and Yall held tightly to their son, and were heavily guarded by some of the defense force of the council to ensure that Nari was indeed taken to Sarne and left there; in the event of his escape, the whole village would have been endangered. The ascent wasn’t too steep, but it was a long walk, taking half a day if the travelers moved with speed and purpose. The group had left long before the sun had risen, and were getting rather tired, making their way around foreign rock formations and plants, and having only the meager amount of food and water they had brought along for the journey. They had no way of knowing how high they were from the thick, silvery haze of mist clouding the air so much that they could barely see forty feet in front of their faces as they climbed.
Nari, being small and light, was perched on his father’s shoulders. He leaned over, hugging his father’s head and tearing up again. “Father?” he whispered.
“Yes, son?” came the slow, sad answer.
“What will become of me?”
Tyn didn’t answer at first. “I’m not certain, Nari. Perhaps… you will see the family… those who have passed on. You will be with loved ones, of that I guarantee you.”
“I would like that, I think,” said Nari, with almost the slightest hint of impossible optimism. “Are you certain it’s true?”
“Yes. Very.”
“Thank you, father,” said Nari, satisfied for now despite his fear of being separated from his parents.
“Up ahead!” called out one of the guards to his fellows, pointing to a spot in the rock as the ground suddenly plateaued. They had reached the peak of the mountain. As the party drew closer, they realized it was a massive crack, splitting off and heading around the rock formation’s side, the top hidden by the fog. “Follow it!” he ordered, leading the way.
Tyn could barely find the strength to lift his foot and continue walking with his son on his shoulders. Yall held onto his arm, stroking her son’s shoulders to try and relax him.
The guards led the group around the bend, as the mist became far less dense, turning a corner, and found themselves facing a cave opening that stretched too high up to even see the top archway. It was extremely wide, looking well over one hundred feet across. The fog curled into the entrance of the cave, shrouding most of it in gray wisps. Combined with the darkness, it was impossible to see inside very far.
The guards parted, and allowed the senior council member who had joined them on the trek to step forward, and prepare to make the ceremonial offering. “Bring the boy forward,” ordered the councilman sharply, snapping his fingers.
Yall pulled her son from Tyn’s shoulders, hugging him to herself and crying into his hair, whispering to him how much she loved him. Tyn grasped his son’s shoulders, helping him to his feet, and crouched down a little to get to eye level with him. For a few moments, he said nothing, simply staring at Nari’s face, trying to imprint him into his memory as heavily as he could.
“Son… don’t be afraid. You have your grandfather’s name. Do you remember what it means in our ancient tongues?”
“Courage,” said Nari simply, his lip quivering. “It means courage.”
Tyn leaned over and kissed the top of his son’s head, patting his shoulders, then walked forward with him toward the council member. Yall was far too hysterical to step forward as well, staying back and sobbing into a balled up fist. Tyn stopped just short of the cave entrance, looking over to the councilman.
“Please. Just… allow me to accompany him inside…”
“No,” frowned the councilman. “Sarne’s decree is clear. One sacrifice. No more, no less. Tyn. Think of it. This is an honor. Your son… has been selected by our glorious goddess. To please her in his demise. You should be saying additional prayers of thanksgiving at sunset today. Now… step back. Leave the boy. He must do this alone.”
“I’ll never thank her,” whispered Tyn under his breath, snarling a little out of the council member’s view. He leaned over by his son’s ear, patting his arm one last time. “Courage, my son. Courage.” With this, he fell back as well, afraid he wouldn’t be able to control himself and run forward to attempt to rescue his young son. He hugged Yall, trying to steady his own irregular breathing before bursting into tears himself, out of his son’s earshot.
The councilman gave Nari a little shove, telling him to step forward, then cleared his throat, cupping his hands around his mouth. The guards took a few steps back, wary of whatever laid within the incredibly sized cave opening.
“GREAT AND POWERFUL SARNE! IT IS I, YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT RAZAST, COME WITH YOUR ANNUAL PRESENT!” he called out regally. “WE SHALL SEND HIM INTO YOUR MOUNTAIN, AND THEN DEPART THESE HALLOWED GROUNDS UNTOUCHED! WE PRAISE YOUR GLORIOUS NAME!” he ended shortly, stepping back and indicating everyone else to do the same. Nari looked over his shoulder back at everyone, clearly all very afraid. The councilman frowned, waving a hand. The young boy hesitated for a moment, his legs seeming unwilling to move. However, as he turned around, he saw several of the guards lay a hand on their sheathed blades, and so he began walking, his body feeling completely separate from the commands of his mind. He felt more tears streaming down his cold cheeks as he walked through the endless wall of fog and into the dark unknown.
Nari wasn’t sure how long he had been walking. To him, it felt like hours, although he was walking so slowly, he doubted he had made much progress at all. He could barely see anything, as the fog had become so thick. After a while, though, he began to notice that the ground was glowing. At first, it was only subtle, although it was a great help in finding his way. Having passed a great deal of it, though, Nari found it actually giving off a great deal of light, bouncing off the slick ground. It calmed his pounding heart slightly to be able to know where he was going as he took each inch-long step. He bit his lip, clenching his fists: trying not to think about what was coming.
He remembered his grandfather, who used to tell him of his adventures at sea. How he braved storms and thrashing waves, nearly losing his ship dozens of times, only to return again to the beckoning ocean. His heart had held fast, he had told Nari. Keep your strength, and nothing can destroy you.
Nari emerged from the fog without warning, a blinding light filling his vision. He closed his eyes, clasping his hands over them. When he finally opened them, he blinked several times to get rid of the glowing spotted blotches in his vision, and wiped his eyes to stare ahead.
It was Sarne.
Nari had heard vague descriptions of her, only in spoken word. Fantastical, overly exaggerated words. Some had said she had large horns protruding from the top of her head. Some said she had glowing red eyes that, if one stared into them, could end one’s life in half a heartbeat. Some said she had the fangs of a snake that poked from the inside of her venomous mouth. Still others said she had the body of several creatures combined into one: a lizard, a cougar, and an eagle.
What Nari saw before him was none of these, and yet still far more awesomely terrible a vision than he had ever seen in his short life. Sarne was quite obviously a woman. In fact, she looked quite human, her visage striking Nari for her extreme beauty, youth, and grace as she sat before him; if Nari didn’t know she had been around for thousands of years, he might have mistaken her for a woman not much more than twice his own age. A long gold robe was draped around her body and over one shoulder, rippling along in a shining luster as it traced down to her legs, allowing only her bare feet to slide out from under the auric fabric as she sat regally in the hall. Her skin was almost as golden as her robe, though appearing just tan and fleshy enough to look like that of a human; it practically glowed as brightly as the light. Her eyes, a deep, drilling silver-gray met the eyes of Nari, staring so hard at him they seemed to be speaking loudly in the silence; he felt his stomach lurch, so he quickly looked down at his feet. She was thin and in perfect form, but not without just enough firm muscle along her arms and legs to look like a physically imposing being, resembling one of the great champions of the stories Nari heard about the time before in the village. Her lips, large and pale, seemed to pout slightly as Nari came into view. Her hair seemed almost to be the silky extension of her robe, giving off a magnificent, mesmerizing sheen in its glorious golden shade, catching light from almost every direction. Despite her highly above-average beauty, physical condition, and attire, she might have been mistaken for a member of the human race.
That is, if she didn’t happen to be over three hundred feet tall.
Sarne, despite being in a ladylike, royally seated position, took up the majority of the absolutely enormous hall, laying upon the rocky ground like a cushioned throne. Behind her, the cave spread out for several hundred feet upwards and outwards, presumably for Sarne to recline when she felt like it. From this distance, Nari had a feeling she could have reached out and touched him.
“You,” bellowed Sarne across the room, almost uncaringly, as if she was addressing a servant to bring her another goblet of wine. “Are you the one they have sent?”
Nari’s hands shook, his knees quivering. He looked up again, his eyes meeting her steely silver irises again, and he almost felt a stinging sensation in the middle of his head just from this glance. He opened his mouth, but found he could get no sound out.
“You will answer your goddess when she asks you a question. Are you the one they have sent for the annual sacrifice?”
Nari looked up, closing his lids so he wouldn’t have to look at her gargantuan eyes practically staring into his soul, and opened his mouth again, forcing sound out this time.
“YES!” he yelled, not sure how loud he was required to be for Sarne to hear and understand him. Out of wonderment, his eyes blinked open just for a moment and he got another look at her, and her hand draped calmly over one of her hips. He guessed that her thumb alone was easily over double as long as his entire body.
Silence hung in the air for a moment. “Have you forgotten the one you stand before?” questioned Sarne sternly, her voice echoing loudly through the halls. Nari had no response, sputtering dumbly again. “You will bow before your goddess, sacrifice. Now.”
Nari, sweating up a storm, threw himself onto his haunches immediately.
“Lower, sacrifice. You disrespect me.”
Nari was beginning to hyperventilate with nervousness, the whole situation becoming more and more real. He flattened his body against the ground, laying his face against the cold stone of the ground. He waited.
“You are in a hallowed place. Kiss this sacred ground that I have so generously provided for you.”
Nari did as he was told, pressing his lips against the damp cave ground and kissing it softly, his ears trained hard for another sound. After another minute passed, he heard the strong, commanding voice again.
“I am satisfied with your patronage. Rise, sacrifice, and step forward, so that I might more closely observe you.”
Nari pulled himself to his feet with his clammy, shaking palms, and forced himself to take a step forward, planting a foot on the ground. He swallowed hard and took another step, followed by another, and another.
When he was close enough that Sarne could easily have reached forth without any effort and grabbed Nari, the young boy looked up at the towering goddess, who seemed to practically be giving off her own light to give the cave its glow. He trembled greatly, but remembered his grandfather. The love of his mother. The words of his father. He stopped shaking, breathing more calmly.
Sarne’s hand descended toward the cave ground, laying itself flat, palm up, on the ground before Nari. He was taken aback, and almost fell over from the shock of seeing such a colossal appendage. He stared into it, wide-eyed, like it was a well. He could make out every detail of the crevices running along her soft palm like rivers, the microscopic hill of flesh running up the heel of her hand, the tiny ripples of her fingerprints swirling around the tips of her over ten-foot-long digits.
“Place your unworthy body into my hand, sacrifice.”
The words rang in Nari’s ears. He had never heard such a human words in such a tone. Commanding. Unrelenting. Expecting. The voice was so confident; there wasn’t the slightest trace that Sarne wasn’t absolutely positive her every word would be heeded.
She truly was the great, giving, and terrible goddess Nari had heard of in the stories.
Remembering the words of his family, he placed a foot onto her middle fingertip, and finally placed all his weight on it as he stepped up onto it. He wobbled for a moment on the terrain of firm flesh, but quickly got his bearings. Cautiously, he crept forward, stopping in the center of Sarne’s wide palm, which stretched out nearly twenty feet across.
Suddenly, Nari found himself rising into the air as Sarne lifted her hand off from the ground. With the slight quivering of the goddess’s palm, Nari could almost sense without touching the incredible muscular power contained in Sarne’s arm that was propelling her hand upward, slow and controlled. He had no doubt she could pick up the mountaintop and throw it onto the village far below if she felt like it.
Her hand stopped moving, level with her eyes, and close enough so that Nari could have touched them if he walked to the edge of her immense hand and reached out far enough. Sitting in the center of her palm, though, which seemed to be generating heat and sending it out to the surrounding air, he felt a relatively long way off from them. He blinked, unable to look into her deep silver eyes, and so he looked down near his feet, studying a thin line in her soft skin, tracing its patterns with his own eyes.
“You are young, sacrifice,” came the simple statement. “How many sun cycles have you been alive?”
Forcing himself to swallow the fear at last, Nari clasped his steadily shaking fists together and stared deeply into the wide eyes before him, which seemed to be about his height from top to bottom. He felt like he was looking into the eye of a terrible storm: her gray irises seemed to swirl like the mist of the mountain, like the roaring waves of the sea, like the growing fire in the eyes of a monstrous beast before it attacks. Nari’s knees turned to jelly again, but he held firm.
Courage.
“Ten,” said Nari softly, knowing very well she could hear him, with her attention so focused on him.
Sarne’s eyes seemed to shift up and down, and Nari realized she was nodding her whole head. Her eyes squinted slightly, and then Nari felt goosebumps form along his skin as a deep, echoing rumble rebounded around the vast expanse of the cave again. Laughter. Sarne was chuckling at him.
Her hand lowered, and suddenly Nari found himself staring directly at her lips. They pursed together, before pulling apart slowly, almost inflating as the plush skin was given space. He could see into the horrifying darkness of her mouth, the white teeth like perfectly carved stone pedestals all in a line inside. A warm blast of breath hit Nari, and almost knocked him back sprawling in her massive palm.
The smell made Nari’s nostrils tingle. It was like a fresh spring, flowing from a sweet water creek and surrounded by lilies and a grove. Nari shook with combined fear and amazement. He had never smelled something so wonderful in his life.
“You are young,” repeated Sarne, her lips tapping together silently, her teeth clacking ever so slightly to form the words as Nari watched, mesmerized and scared again at the same time. “This pleases me. The young sacrifices are always the most amusing when they give themselves to me,” she whispered. With this, she tilted her head backward slowly, opening her mouth all the way.
Nari was jolted back to reality, and backed up across her palm toward her towering fingers. However, soon her hand was above her parted lips, and was angling itself. With no more friction to keep himself steady, Nari gasped to find himself sliding down the soft slope of Sarne’s palm, ricocheting off the slight slope of her hand heel, and rolling downward into the dark, wet, endless abyss of the pit of her steaming, awaiting mouth.