Drum beats. There they were again--ricocheting off of her internal organs, rolling around in her mind as if each of them was a giant boulder, careening into her mind with every slam of stick onto skin. Nya stood on the dais with her family, her hands literally tied to her sides, her feet bound beneath her gown so that no one in the audience could tell that she had been forced to attend the ceremony against her will. Of course, the binding was also to prevent her from taking action against her father as he went through the motions of selecting the next person who would die at the hands of the angry dragon.
She’d done her best to try to convince her father that she wasn’t about to try and stop anything, but he hadn’t gone for it. She honestly wasn’t planning to interfere that night, though she knew it would be excruciating to stand there and watch the dragon devour another citizen--or pluck them off of The Point and eat them later, as the case may be.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. It was only that she’d listened to Rok’s advice, and over the last few months, she had paid more attention to her own skill level. He happened to be right, though she’d never admit it to him. She wasn’t ready. If she were to attempt to attack the dragon that night, he would most assuredly kill her. While her handling of a shield was coming along, she wasn’t there yet, and since she could do nothing to help anyone if she were fried to a crisp, she’d have to put off her wish for vengeance until another Dragon Moon.
It wouldn’t be one where a citizen of Frindom was the sacrifice, either. Her parents had anticipated she might do something this night, obviously, or else she wouldn’t be tied. No, if she were going to be successful, she’d have to sneak off and attempt her plan when the dragon was attempting to take away a citizen from another kingdom, probably not even one nearby or else the king might realize what she was up to and put a stop to that as well.
If she were capable of moving, she might be able to handle the percussion resonating throughout her body, but since she was unable to do anything but stand there and observe the situation like one of the straw stuffed men the farmers often hung in the fields to ward off birds, except for her arms were straight at her sides instead of out like a T, her senses were heightened, as was the reminder that she wasn’t capable of running away.
The ceremony had to go on, however, and as much as Nya wanted to get off of that stage, she also didn’t want to see the face of the person her father was about to send to his or her death. As he began to address the crowd, the drums stopped, sparing Nya slightly. She sucked in a breath and held it, willing herself to be somewhere else, to be anywhere else.
He said practically the same thing every year, so there was no point in listening to his speech about how someone was going to be fortunate enough to serve the kingdom as the savior for this year, and how their family should be proclaimed heroes as well. Everyone knew it was all bullshit anyway. The person selected to be walked out to their death wasn’t lucky; he or she was the most unfortunate soul in all of Frindom, except for, perhaps their parents. Living out the rest of their lives knowing they’d never see their child again because their beloved was in the belly of a dragon couldn’t possibly make anyone feel like a hero.
When her father shifted his speech and stepped over to the blasted clay pot to pull a name, Nya tuned back in. As much as she would’ve liked to have removed herself mentally from the entire fiasco, she had no choice but to pay attention now. Thoughts of what she’d been thinking in these moments the year before, right before her father drew Gavin’s name, flooded her mind. At that time, she’d thought there was no way in the world Gavin could possibly be at risk. Everything had changed a few moments later, and in the year since, she’d thought of little else.
In a few seconds, someone else’s life would change forever. One person would know they were on their way to their death; their family would never be the same.
King Zar reached into the pot and pulled out a slip of paper. He studied it for a second, and then, in a deep, clear voice, he read, “Alsys Flur!”
Cheers went up from most of the crowd, allegedly because they were celebrating Alsys Flur, but in honesty, Nya knew it was because the vast majority of the families were rejoicing because it was not their child who was called. It was not their son or daughter who would be departing on a journey from which they would never return.
Even over the shouts and clapping, though, Nya could hear the wails, the cries, coming from the back of the crowd, near the middle. She couldn’t quite see where it was coming from at first, but then, the rows of people turned, one at a time, opening wide the center of the mob, and then she saw them.
An older woman, her hands clenched, pressed to her face, her husband, his hair gray at the temples, holding her as a small, thin girl slowly made her way through the crowd. Nya’s eyes widened as she looked at the child. She couldn’t have been described in any other way. She certainly wasn’t a full-grown woman. Eleven was the minimum age; Alsys Flur looked to be nine or ten at best.
“Malnutrition,” her sister whispered in her ear. “She must come from one of the far villages, where they don’t get enough meat and vegetables.”
Nya turned and looked at her, not sure how to reply. Eru wasn’t being insensitive, she was only providing an explanation to the scene in front of them. Nya knew nothing to say in return, so she kept her mouth shut. What she truly wanted to know was whether or not this morsel would be enough for the dragon. He could swallow this tiny girl in one bite.
By now, Alsys had made her way to the stage and was taken into custody by the soldiers. She wasn’t putting up a fight, but she also wasn’t proclaiming how glad she was to be there, the way that Gavin had. Alsys’s bottom lip was quivering as the king addressed her, thanking her for her sacrifice and assuring her that Zan would have a special place in heaven for her.
She would find out shortly whether or not that was true.
Her parents were gathered up, and the guards moved Alsys off of the stage to take her place in the same room Gavin had been held in to meet his parents and say goodbye. Nya literally couldn’t move presently, so she had no choice but to stand there and wait for someone to come and help her join the royal family as they moved away.
It was Rok, of course, who came and discreetly unbound her so that she could walk. She had a feeling he’d be attached to her side for the rest of the night. Her arms were still bound as she walked off beside him. “I’m not going to do anything,” she assured him. She wished she had planned something, though. Alsys was practically a baby. She deserved to stay with her family. The cries from her mother grew louder, the closer the family got to them as they were moved inside to say goodbye to their daughter.
Once they were inside of the hallway, away from the balcony, Rok untied her hands. Nya thanked him quietly and ran her hands over her flesh. She knew her father hadn’t intended for him to do that, that the entire point of her being bound was to prevent her from lashing out at the dragon, and she’d still be able to do that now. But she wouldn’t. At least, that’s what she continued to tell herself.
Mrs. Flur was shouting curses at the king as she crossed his path on her way to see her daughter. Nya wasn’t in a position to see her father’s face, but she hoped he would grant the woman some grace. Most of the time, if someone dare arch an eyebrow at him, he would make sure they spent the best part of their life in the darkness of the dungeon, but in this case, he said nothing, only continued on his way to the nearby library to wait for the family’s time to be up and for the guards to move Alsys to The Point.
“Did you want to speak to her?” Rok asked, drawing Nya’s eyes up to his face.
Puzzled, she said, “No. Why would I want to?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You did last year.”
“Gavin was my best friend,” she reminded him. “I don’t even know this girl.”
“True. But… I thought, perhaps, it might comfort her some to see your face.”
Nya wasn’t sure if that would be the case or not. The way her girl’s mother had cursed Nya’s father, she thought there was a good chance none of them would want to see her either. She cleared her throat. “Only if she wants to see me,” she replied.
Rok signaled for a guard to come over, and he relayed the message. “See if Alsys wishes to have an audience with Princess Nya.”
The guard nodded dutifully and went off to address the sacrifice.
Nya took a deep breath, hoping the answer would be no because she had absolutely no idea what to say to the girl who was about to die for absolutely no good reason whatsoever, but when the guard came back and said, “Yes, she would like to see the princess,” she found herself moving in that direction, her heart heavy as she prayed the right words would come to her.