By Any Means Necessary

As they tie me to the altar, I don’t think about my sins. I don’t think about my life. I don’t think at all, except to remember that I will meet my love. They tilt my head up and pour a cloyingly sweet mixture into my mouth. The texture is strange, but I swallow it hungrily. It will prepare me for Her. 

There’s a peace that fills my head with it. It seeps between the folds in my brain and nestles into the space behind my eyes. If I had ever been worried, I couldn’t feel it now. 

Words and prayers echo in my ears, harsh and soft syllables alike. The light glints off the jewels and metals the priest wears as he lifts his knife to the sky. It’s made of a dark metal, but it shines brilliantly in the daylight. 

The priest’s hands were steady as he lowered it and pressed it to my chest. A dull sting began across my diaphragm as he cut into it. It should have hurt more, logically, but then again, this isn’t logical, is it? No, this is love. 

My sacrifice for the gods will not go unnoticed. 

I’ll be united with them, surely. With Her. 

I gasp as the priest cuts deeper. Not from the pain, but from the coldness of the blade. I’m not sure why I don’t feel any of it, but I won’t complain. The warmth of my own blood spills out across my abdomen, but I don’t look down to check what it looks like. I know well enough. 

He reaches a hand into my chest. 

I had never thought about how strange it must be to have someone else’s hand in your ribs, poking around. It wasn’t pleasant. 

The priest’s fist closes around my heart and he whispers a prayer. 

“May the gods protect us.” 

He yanks, and I’m glad I’m tied down. I hadn’t thought the heart was so delicate it could detach like that. I glance down as his hand leaves the crevice he’d made. My heart sputters blood onto his hand as it tries to beat a few moments longer. The blood drips down onto my chest, joining the red sea dripping off the altar. I’m getting cold, but that doesn’t make sense on a sweltering day like this. 

The priest’s eyes meet mine. They’re a brilliant green. They almost seem to glow as he shows me the heart. “Thank you for your sacrifice.” 

I smile and try to respond, but when I open my mouth, blood runs out. The priest examines me sadly. I had known him for many years before this, but he can’t grieve over this. We had always known it would end this way. We’d agreed on it, actually. 

Something in the shadows moves. It catches my eye as it seems to pull the shadows with it. A woman emerges from the darkness.  

My eyes go wide as she approaches. 

The priest smiles and backs away, but he doesn’t see the woman as she passes in front of him. 

Her stola is woven from gold, and I know in an instant who this is. When she takes my hand, I feel the warmth of her skin, just like I had dreamt of. 

“What have you done, my love?” Her melodic voice echoed around the room, despite it having been barely a whisper, as the clamor of the priest and his assistants seemed to fade away. 

I frown and stare into her golden eyes. What did she mean? 

“Why do you think the way to me is death?” She asks. She shakes her head and looks at the men around us. “Did they teach you that?” 

I nod, but it’s so hard to move. I’m so tired. She cups my face with her other hand and says, “This isn’t the way.” 

She takes her hands back and steps away. I try to say she should stay, but nothing comes out of my mouth, not even blood. I have nothing else to give. When the priest hands an assistant my heart and bows to me, I finally realize that I’m dying. 

The woman’s eyes trail on him, concern in her eyes as she steps back again. 

I can’t lose her when she’s this close. No, no. 

I can’t move to try to stop her from leaving. 

She stops, and I can feel a hint of relief. 

She lifts her arms and seems to rotate them inward. 

Everything stops, and then begins to move backwards. 

I feel my body warm again. The blood crawls back into my body. The priest puts my heart back and I’m untied. I stand and step away, back out of the temple. She follows me, her eyes trailing on me alone. 

In an instant, I retrace a thousand steps. I shrink an inch and I lose a few scars. My hair grows long again, like it was before I cut it. 

And then, I’m standing in front of the temple for the first time again, but this time, the goddess is beside me. 

“Find me the right way this time, love.” She tells me, squeezing my hand. The slanted sunlight hits her stola as she gives me a knowing look and turns, walking away. 

When she takes the first step, time resumes, and a man nudges my arm. 

“Are you coming in?” He asks, his green eyes meeting mine.

I glance back, but the woman is gone now. 

When I look back at him, I shake my head. 

I tell him, “You go in, I have something to do.” 

...

The goddess watches the scene from afar. She loves that odd human, but he never could find the right way. She had lost count of how many times she had paused or rewound the scene. If only the boy let himself live, she wouldn't have to interfere. Maybe if she stopped muting his pain, he would, but she doubted it somehow.

The sound of wings flutters behind her before a man emerges at her side. She doesn’t turn as the man folds his feathered limbs in and asks, “Again?” She feels the concern in his eyes as they land on her. 

She nods. “He’ll do it right this time.” 

“How can you be sure?” He asks, following her gaze. 

“Because I’ll wait as long as I need to.”