CC123 was just getting used to her new lifestyle. She learned how to use the musket, she bettered herself on her Armsel Striker, and she even mastered the art of camouflage. She was a perfect warrior. CC97 could not have asked for a more skilled daughter. She was proud of CC123.
CC123 was sharpening her throwing knives on an average day when her mother came out. She looked worried. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. CC123 dropped her throwing knives and wiped her hand off on the towel. She lifted the cloak of her hood as she cautiously asked, “What’s wrong mother?”
A crystal colored tear dropped from her eye. She was at a loss for words. She didn’t know how to break such terrible news to her daughter. CC123 gave up on trying to talk to her mother, and she returned to her tools. She thought that she needed to strengthen herself as a warrior, because an attack could have hit her at any moment in time.
Her mother fell to the ground. CC123 was flabbergasted. She had never seen her mother get so emotional. CC123 shoved each throwing knife in its designated pouch and walked towards her mother. Her mother looked up into her daughter’s blank stare. She felt powerless and vulnerable.
CC123 kneeled down and grabbed her mother’s chin. She tilted her mother’s head to face her, and to look her in the eyes. CC123 asked, “Are you going to tell me what has gotten into you or not?”
Her mother yanked her chin away from her daughter. Never in her life had she felt so disrespected. Never in her life had she felt so proud of a fellow Crimson Cloak. CC123 helped her mother from the damp ground and dusted her off. CC97 slowly said, “CC123. It’s time for us to go to your first Sacrifice Ceremony.”
CC123 furrowed her eyebrow in confusion. Just trying to say the words caused a puzzling feeling in her head. She asked, “What is that?”
CC97 wiped her nose. She was not ready to explain to her eight year old daughter what a Sacrificial Ceremony was. She knew that she had to, so she forced herself to explain it. She shivered as she whispered, “A Sacrificial Ceremony is a lottery where one name gets picked out and one punishment gets picked out of two separate boxes. The woman who was picked must endure the punishment until she dies. That is what we sacrifice to the gods to keep us in good fortune.”
CC123 had never heard of such an absurd celebration. But then, she had only lived for a few short years, and she hadn’t heard much at all. CC97 grabbed her daughter’s wrist causing CC123 to look into her mother’s eyes. Her mother said, “If I happen to be chosen, then you will be left without a mother and you will become the president of Faisa. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
CC123 was about to answer her mother, but then an alarm pierced her young, fragile eardrums. She reached for her ears. Her mother grabbed one hand and dragged her to the town labyrinth. It was time for the Sacrificial Ceremony to begin. All of the other women were already at the labyrinth, waiting with panic-stricken facial expressions.
CC97 was dragged up to the stage by her mother. Since she was the president’s daughter, she had to endure the punishment of watching all the women wait in fear. Her mother set her down on a hard, uncomfortable metal chair. CC123 put up no arguments or fights. She was ready to get out of there as fast as she could. She realized what her mother was so worried about.
Her mother approached the podium with a limp. She was dreading this time of the year. She always did. She tapped the microphone. Everybody froze in their already-silent state. With an uneasy tone CC97 said, “It is time to commence the annual Sacrificial Ceremony.”
