Arise
“And when one hundred are bled, and their blood pooled together, and our prayers strong and united, she will take form and lead us to eternity!” yelled the priest, as he slashed a knife for the final time, the hundredth time, across a throat.
He let the man drop, blood flowing into the channel that led to the deep pool, red and think and fresh; although it had been days since the first sacrifice. Those standing behind him stared at the pool as they gave their praises to the Blood Maiden.
The old priest stepped forward to complete the rite; to keep the secret only he (and high priests of old) new. He kneeled before the pool, head bowed, hands hidden. From a deep pocket, he withdrew a small, delicately carved red-stone figurine. It was a beautiful woman, her hands held upwards, towards an imaginary sky.
A voice spoke in his head. At last. He let the figurine fall from his hand, into the deep tank of blood.
He stood to his feet, and almost stumbled as he moved backwards. The blood within the pool became bright red, and started to recede. As the blood level dropped, a head – still red, as if made of blood itself – emerged from it, followed by the rest of a woman. She looked just as her carving had; regal, and enthrallingly beautiful.
He kneeled before her, and those behind him did as well.
The Blood Maiden smiled, and pulled herself out of the tank. “Raise your heads,” she said, her voice sounding as if she spoke right into the ear of each present.
They looked up, and watched as her blood red colouring faded, until she was a pale-skinned, black-haired beauty. They stared at her in awe as she strode forward. She bent down, and taking the hand of the high priest pulled him to his feet.
“How many follow me?” she asked of him.
“Only us; us seven,” he replied, indicating those behind him with his hand.
The Blood Maiden nodded, and smiled. “I assume you have some clothes for me?”
She laughed as he blushed at her nakedness.
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