The Trials, despite no visible change in the seasons, felt as if it lasted centuries.
I left my foster mother's home early the morning after our confrontation. I was told to only pack a cloak and my ever trusty dagger, everything else would be at the village where the trials would begin. The silence that met any and all questions I had about this journey was disconcerting. Finally the guide told me children should be seen and not heard, growing weary of my constant questioning. I bit back a retort and just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
After half a day of walking, we made it to the village, the huts all looking smaller than my bedroom in the Queen's home. But I was nothing if not adaptable so I took in the view, noticing how the forest almost seemed alive around us, the noise coming from the trees should have been deafening but I could still hear other people talking around me. Once we stopped, an elderly woman came forward, and motioned for me to kneel. While doing so, I noticed two young male fae nearby, doing the same as I was. Their expressions seemed disrespectful, looking almost bored as they knelt, but I turned my attention back to the elder in front of me. Looking up at her, her skin was as wrinkled as the bark of the trees we were surrounded by, her eyes green like the leaves in spring. She radiated power, and authority. Until that moment I had thought my foster mother was the most powerful being in Fairy. This woman made me question that.
She painted a symbol on my head, in what I assume was blood, the smell and feel reminded me of it, then bent forward and pressed her dry lips to my forehead, whispering something. I felt as if it was a blessing but I was not fluent in the Old One's languages so I decided to keep my guard up, and stood when she motioned for me to get off my knees. She then lead me to a small hut, situated a ways away from the center of the village. She motioned to the door, "Princess." she said out loud, making me wary. I was unaware my title would be used here, but after glancing around I seen we were alone so I shrugged, and made my way into the hut, ready to begin whatever trials that would await me.
Most of the trials are a secret. Involving rituals, and secrets that belong to our people, both the fae and the unseelie. I learned how to call my darkness, my shadows, I learned to control how to make people bleed, and how to call their blood to me. I could kill a person by simply finding some sort of open wound on their body, whether it be a spot on their face, or a knife wound in their side. All I needed was that small little tear in their skin, and their lives were mine. The physical parts of the trials were not as easy for me. My small size gave me advantage in stealth and speed, but hindered me when it came to hand to hand combat. One of the males was half goblin and seemed to take particular pleasure in trying to kill me as much as possible so I learned quickly to cloak myself, sending my shadows out ahead of me to scout out any threats. The fern hounds came quickly to my aid if the goblin ever got the drop on me as well. I treated them well unlike the two males I was trialed with.
I learned to bring plants back from death, as well as the animals we used for our rituals. As time passed, I was pushed and trained to also bring greater beings back. This particular skill was prized because I could resurrect soldiers, fighters, archers, magicians. That means for an army, I'd be a priceless commodity. As my skills grew, so did my compassion for the other creatures in the village. Soon the goblin could no longer attack me, when he tried, exiled fairies, the hounds, even horses reserved for the wyld hunt would attack him. The other male only was interested in me as a potential mate and once he was taught that was not possible, he ignored me much of the time. I preferred that. I preferred to be alone, left to read, study, and practice my magics. My powers grew quickly but then I begin to experience nightmares.
These nightmares made me feel as if I was living another life, and soon I begin to fear even closing my eyes. I felt as if there was a darkness constantly hanging over my head. Unfortunately this also caused my magicks to slip slowly. I begin to lose control of how much I could bleed someone, how quickly I could bring them back. If I did not bring them back quick enough, they became mindless minions, only doing my bidding. For soldiers this was ideal, but for others, they needed to be able to think on their own.
Everything finally came to a head one evening when I had dozed off while studying, and the nightmare drove me to lash out, my shadows flooding the village, every villager with a wound suddenly begin to bleed out. The elder finally was able to wake me from my nightmare but that night, I was advised I'd be moving on to the next trial where I'd be used in the fertility ritual since I was the first female fae in centuries to be able to sacrifice her maiden hood to the gods. This would require one full moon cycle of isolation, with only a priestess fae in attendance. No talking, no singing. Her and I both would have to be silent, and insure we went to the gods with an open heart and shut mouth.
I was moved to the new spot under the light of a full moon, only a cotton shift over my body, the cloth unbound, my hair unbound. They had placed a veil over my head, treating me as if I was the goddess herself. I was no longer a princess or an unseelie. I was a vessel, and as that vessel no one could lay eyes upon me except the priestess and later the consort they would pick for me. We had to walk barefoot to the place, and once there, I wanted to bolt. But it was not only my choice to remain silent, there was a powerful magic in this place, it choked me, deadened my vocal cords.
There was no way out of this ritual. I had been raised for this I suddenly realized. With my body as a sacrifice, I could restore the fertility of the fae, of my people. It wasn't a guarantee, but enough of a promise that my foster mother sent me to be the proverbial lamb to the slaughter.
For the next four weeks, I meditated, I ate, I drank water only. I brought dead trees back to life, wilting flowers back to bloom, still born baby animals were suddenly vital and active. The priestess simply watched me, eating when I ate, drinking when I drank. I became aware that she was as much of a guard as she was an attendant. She was ever watchful, making sure no one came close to me, and I did not leave the glade where we had been left. The nightmares never happened again, the peacefulness of the glad seeping into my mind as well as my soul.
The morning before the next full moon, I woke up to the elder sitting over me, watching me. She simply smiled at me, and drug her thumb over my forehead, painting a symbol with a strange oil. The rest of the day was spent preparing me for this sacrifice. A wreath of flowers and leaves were placed on my head, and other priestesses painted symbols on my stomach, my breasts, my back and above my butt, making me fight the urge to squirm feeling them move their brushes over my body. As the moon begin to rise, so did the power in my body. I could feel my body grow heavy with magic as they lead me to the alter in the middle of the glade, its surface covered with berries and oils, a sacrifice to the goddess I was channeling for them.
Once the moon was at it's peak, and with a nod from the elder, I raised my hands, the moonlight flooding my body and my magic exploded, I could feel it rushing over the ground, touching the trees, the grass, blessing every living being in those woods. The priestesses and the male fae all rushed off to the woods, eager to hunt, spill blood, and rut in the blood trying to either plant their seed or have a seed planted in them during this ritual. I had to fight the urge to run myself, the urge to hunt and hurt something beginning to twist it's way along my spine like a disease. The elder helped me over to the stone, and motioned for me to lay down, then left, leaving my body like a piece of meat for the gods to consume.
I laid naked on the stone, my body trembling as I heard someone in the woods approach, the sound reminding me of an ill tempered bull, the sound of it moving causing me to have to fight the urge to flee now. Suddenly he appeared over me, and it frightened me. He appeared human other than the horns that twisted from his skull toward the sky, his body chiseled like a sculptured, and beneath it all the part of him that scared me most of all was standing tall. He lowered his head, breathing in my scent, from my forehead to between my legs, then he growled and stood up straight. "Run." he hissed through his teeth and I needed no further encouragement. Something about him felt wrong, smelled wrong. I had been assured the strongest, most powerful male fae as my consort but he was not full fae.
Quick enough to even startle myself, I jumped up from the rock and took off in the woods. I tried to call my darkness, my shadows to my aid and was unable to. Then I realized the symbols on my body were suppressing my powers. Locking me into my own body. I wanted to curse myself for being so stupid but my fear drove me further into the darkness of the night, but no matter how fast I ran, I could feel him behind me.
I suddenly felt a weight against my back, slamming into my body and forcing me to the forest floor. For the first time in a month I begin to make noise, screaming and begging for him to stop, my nails digging into the mossy ground, trying to pull myself away from him. He forced my legs apart and took me from behind, grunting as he rutted into me, paying no mind to my screams of pain or my pleading for him to stop. I prayed to the goddess to let me die, to let me fade from this, but as suddenly as I realized the elder had tricked me, I realized the goddess wasn't with me that night. His claws dug through my skin, digging into my shoulders, my hips, pulling me closer to him as if he couldn't get enough.
Once he was done with me, I could feel his seed trickling from between my legs, and my blood seeping into the forest floor. I winced as he pulled himself out of me, feeling as if he had been so deep he soiled my soul as well as my body. He then grabbed me off the ground and carried me back to the stone, depositing me as if I was already a corpse, the blood and seed from between my legs now spreading on the stone, carrying the blessing of the ritual to the others who had performed the same act.
The next thing I knew, the elder was back, standing over me, her expression sad, so I thought maybe I had died, and she was here to mourn me. Unfortunately that was not the case. Several hands gripped my body and lifted, causing me to begin to cry in pain, every part of my body sore, the cuts he caused not healing like they should have. I risked a look down at my hip, and purple and blue blossomed from the claw marks, bruising my skin severely. So I just laid my head back down on the make shift bed they were carrying me on, and let myself drift, feeling as if my life was now over.
