Our Savior

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Danielle was shaking as Amber guided her to the enormous Dalzev Regional Hall. "Does that happen... often?" She asked her older sister, her voice barely above a whisper.

Amber didn't answer.

She and her sister weaved through the people crowding the Regional Hall, her large glasses nearly falling off her face as they rushed towards their destination.

They charged through several hallways, heading towards the main attraction of the Region Hall, which happened to be the colossal auditorium that took up most of the building. That was where the annual Ceremonies always took place in the Dalzev region.

When they approached one of the many sets of opened double doors leading to the auditorium, Amber released her sister's hand, gesturing for her to enter the large room. "Go on and find us some seats. Maybe farther from the front."

Danielle only stared at her sister blankly for a minute or two before speaking. "What was that? You knew the police  were going to kill those men, and you did nothing about it!"

"Dani-"

"No, don't 'Dani' me! I-" her voice caught, and she sighed as tears began to make her eyes gleam in the yellowish lighting near the doors. "Let's just go."

Amber pressed her lips together. For thirteen years, her and her parents had managed to keep Danielle far away from these killings, hoping she'd never have to witness something so horrible. It had been wishful thinking, but for a while, it had worked. Some things just can't be avoided.

"Go." Amber shoved Danielle more forcefully this time, growing impatient. "We're going to be late."

Apparently, she spoke too soon, because just after she said that, the king's booming voice echoed throughout the auditorium.

The sisters rushed into the spacious room, frantically scanning the seemingly endless rows of seats for two empty ones. They finally found some way in the top corner of the auditorium and sat in wait.

The auditorium, as it should be, was spacious enough to fit all the ten-somethings in the Dalzev region. Many rows of seats ellipsed around a stage on the far wall of the rectangular room, and nearly every one was filled.

Danielle's previous excitement had not returned, and she slumped in her seat quite miserably. Amber tried to comfort her, but as she did, Danielle growled, "Don't touch me."

Amber sighed. She knew Danielle wouldn't take it well, but she also knew that she had to realize that the world wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the king, who began his usual regurgitated speech about the importance of the Ceremonies. His family stood around him, standing tall through the tired ritual practiced every year.

"Welcome, young Dalzevians, to the five hundredth annual Prophetic Ceremony!" The king boomed.

The crowds cheered, but their faces remained neutral. They'd gone through these Prophetic Ceremonies for years, but the experience wasn't entirely boring. Every year there was a festival held after the Ceremony, and this year would be no different.

The king bathed in their applause, raising his arms in the air. "An ancient evil looms over the kingdom of Gardelle. A winged Savior who bleeds liquid gold will stop it. Or, at least that's what was prophesied five centuries ago. Since the day that Savior was prophesied, we've held these annual Ceremonies to find them." King Richard recites the regurgitated and tired words in his usual deep, regal voice, seemingly excited for the event even though it was obvious he was bored of these Ceremonies. His children and the queen didn't seem to be any more interested in the Ceremony than he was, but also upheld the same facade. "Tonight, we bleed, in the hopes of finding our Savior."