| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by Laura Davy / Artwork by Holly Eddy |
| Sealed |
The girl wore a white traditional robe that
trailed in the mud behind her. She walked
slowly with the Holy High Priests following after
her, as if ashamed of what they were forcing
her to do but ready to catch her if she ran.
Talon walked behind them while tugging at his
best shirt. He still felt out of place at the
Temple even after coming here once a year for
the last thirty years.
The child did not cry like most of them did.
Perhaps she truly believed that as the Spirit
her death would protect their city for the next
year, or maybe she hoped she’d be chosen by
the Dead as worthy of living through the year
and becoming the Spirit Ruler. Either way her
silence was more disturbing and heartbreaking
than tears.
The Temple itself was beautiful in its simplicity;
everything was made out of wood, even the
idols to the Gods. The only abnormality in the
Temple was the large sacred stone cave carved
with block-like symbols on its outside. Inside,
the cave had bare smooth walls and a simple
bed next to a basket of food that would only
last a week. The sacrifice took a deep breath
and stepped inside. The priests knelt down and
kissed her, a blessing for her end. They
stepped back and he knew it was his turn. The
pile of bricks and mortar were to the side and
he quickly began to work, telling himself that
soon it would be over for yet another year.
Talon felt his eyes tear up but he bit down hard on the inside of his checks to distract himself. He tried
not to look at her, he might not be able to finish if he did. Yet, when he was placing the last brick, he
looked through the small hole and saw her watching. He forced himself to look into her eyes as he placed
the brick and sealed her in the Holy Tomb.
~ * ~
The Temple loomed before Nori and she felt her heart skip a beat. She was familiar with the building; she
had been working there every day since she was eight and had been kidnapped into slavery. But even
slaves were chosen to become the Spirit, since the priests explained all children had an equal chance of
being picked, ignoring the fact the wealthy families were conveniently never chosen.
Nori took a deep calming breath before entering the Tomb. Its walls were at least fifteen feet tall, but it
was a narrow cave filled only with a bed and a basket of dried fish. The priests knelt down and kissed
her, sealing her to this fate. Nori watched the man silently build the wall to seal the room. He didn’t look
at her until the last brick was about to be placed, a sad look of apology for a tradition he willingly upheld.
The last brick was fitted and the Tomb was plunged into darkness and stale air.
Nori felt a surge of panic, but refused to acknowledge it. She walked with her hands outstretched toward
the wall, letting out a breath she had unconsciously held when she touched its surface. She walked along
the wall until she finally felt an indent and with her other hand found the next higher dent. She grasped
the notches and started to climb. At the very top of the wall there was a crack and inside it was a deep
hole with enough food and water to last a few weeks, and on top a small pickaxe. Nori reverently took
the pickaxe out and climbed down. She resisted the urge to laugh since it would use too much air.
There hadn’t been a Spirit Ruler for over a hundred years and the priests said the Dead hadn’t found the
Spirit candidates worthy of surviving. Nori started to use the pickax at a small spot on the wall near the
ground. She didn’t believe the Dead would help anyone live through this ordeal, but she didn’t need or
want the Dead’s help. She knew that when she finished making a hole in the wall she would have fresh
air and an opening where her mother could pass through food and water. It was easy to bribe a priest to
draw her name for this morbid tradition, it was harder to prepare in the one week when the Tomb was
open. But it would all be worth it. Soon a slave would become the ruler of the bastards who had owned
her.
trailed in the mud behind her. She walked
slowly with the Holy High Priests following after
her, as if ashamed of what they were forcing
her to do but ready to catch her if she ran.
Talon walked behind them while tugging at his
best shirt. He still felt out of place at the
Temple even after coming here once a year for
the last thirty years.
The child did not cry like most of them did.
Perhaps she truly believed that as the Spirit
her death would protect their city for the next
year, or maybe she hoped she’d be chosen by
the Dead as worthy of living through the year
and becoming the Spirit Ruler. Either way her
silence was more disturbing and heartbreaking
than tears.
The Temple itself was beautiful in its simplicity;
everything was made out of wood, even the
idols to the Gods. The only abnormality in the
Temple was the large sacred stone cave carved
with block-like symbols on its outside. Inside,
the cave had bare smooth walls and a simple
bed next to a basket of food that would only
last a week. The sacrifice took a deep breath
and stepped inside. The priests knelt down and
kissed her, a blessing for her end. They
stepped back and he knew it was his turn. The
pile of bricks and mortar were to the side and
he quickly began to work, telling himself that
soon it would be over for yet another year.
Talon felt his eyes tear up but he bit down hard on the inside of his checks to distract himself. He tried
not to look at her, he might not be able to finish if he did. Yet, when he was placing the last brick, he
looked through the small hole and saw her watching. He forced himself to look into her eyes as he placed
the brick and sealed her in the Holy Tomb.
~ * ~
The Temple loomed before Nori and she felt her heart skip a beat. She was familiar with the building; she
had been working there every day since she was eight and had been kidnapped into slavery. But even
slaves were chosen to become the Spirit, since the priests explained all children had an equal chance of
being picked, ignoring the fact the wealthy families were conveniently never chosen.
Nori took a deep calming breath before entering the Tomb. Its walls were at least fifteen feet tall, but it
was a narrow cave filled only with a bed and a basket of dried fish. The priests knelt down and kissed
her, sealing her to this fate. Nori watched the man silently build the wall to seal the room. He didn’t look
at her until the last brick was about to be placed, a sad look of apology for a tradition he willingly upheld.
The last brick was fitted and the Tomb was plunged into darkness and stale air.
Nori felt a surge of panic, but refused to acknowledge it. She walked with her hands outstretched toward
the wall, letting out a breath she had unconsciously held when she touched its surface. She walked along
the wall until she finally felt an indent and with her other hand found the next higher dent. She grasped
the notches and started to climb. At the very top of the wall there was a crack and inside it was a deep
hole with enough food and water to last a few weeks, and on top a small pickaxe. Nori reverently took
the pickaxe out and climbed down. She resisted the urge to laugh since it would use too much air.
There hadn’t been a Spirit Ruler for over a hundred years and the priests said the Dead hadn’t found the
Spirit candidates worthy of surviving. Nori started to use the pickax at a small spot on the wall near the
ground. She didn’t believe the Dead would help anyone live through this ordeal, but she didn’t need or
want the Dead’s help. She knew that when she finished making a hole in the wall she would have fresh
air and an opening where her mother could pass through food and water. It was easy to bribe a priest to
draw her name for this morbid tradition, it was harder to prepare in the one week when the Tomb was
open. But it would all be worth it. Soon a slave would become the ruler of the bastards who had owned
her.
Laura Davy lives in California and is a senior editor for a travel website. This is her first published
work of fiction, though her nonfiction work has previously been published. Her love for magic,
books and cats only knows a few bounds, and she loves anything that successfully combines all
three.
work of fiction, though her nonfiction work has previously been published. Her love for magic,
books and cats only knows a few bounds, and she loves anything that successfully combines all
three.