The Procuring

Prologue

According to history, the Procuring had dated as far back as our oldest textiles could document. It was just a way of life at this point for Febronia, our small part of the world. In the earlier days, the beings that lurked within the Fae borders of Calderon would often come into our lands as they pleased. They took wares, trinkets, some livestock, odds and ends, and some recordings even mentioned humans going missing. Afraid of what they could potentially do to our Country of Belkhar as a whole, the Mortal Council came together in agreement. They had crafted a proposition. A bargain. A sacrifice. As history claims, they met with and presented their idea to the Elite Fae Council of Calderon.

After three days of deliberation and bargaining, they had accepted the terms laid out.

From that day forward the Procuring would take place every ten years in exchange for an invisible boundary line that started at the Melonie Wood, an oath that would separate our land from theirs preventing their kind from ever being able to cross over into Febronia.

All but one.

As though the Fae still wanted to demonstrate their power, they'd chosen to send their darkest of creatures to do the collecting every ten years. The Procurer, described in history books as an onyx looming being with large glowing eyes, some illustrations portrayed it having the head of a large crow's skull surrounded by a shroud of cascading feathers, others just a dark shadow in the shape of a man like being. These descriptions of course have neither been confirmed nor denied. No one, aside from the poor victims that it chose each decade, had ever properly seen the beast up close. It worked in the darkest parts of the night, coming to our little Village of Febronia to take one of age maiden from her bed and disappear with her into the wood from which it came.

I was twelve years old when I experienced my first Procuring, sitting in the hallway in front of my older sister Hollis's door all through the night. I was armed with only a few stones, a hand made sling shot, and a dull butter knife that I had stolen from the kitchen. Our younger sister Juniper and I were still too young to be tribute in the event, but even then I knew I was the only one in the house that could protect my sister from the horrors that night brought.

The only one that would protect her.

I hadn't even known I'd fallen asleep in the hallway until I heard the cries, the heart wrenching wails of Mrs. Kohler the morning after. Her daughter Alyssa was chosen that night. She was only sixteen years old. Mrs. Kohler cried for the first week straight, enough to make the Village wonder if her tears would ever stop flowing. They did.

Her sobs were short lived after news had spread through the land and to the Capital City of Avaglade. A little over a week later from the night of the Procuring, gifts of fine raiment, gold and jewels, livestock, food and blessings of all sorts arrived at the Kohler's residence. This happened to each family that lost their child to The Procuring, it was Avaglade's idea of a penance pay. Their way of atoning for the family's loss. That plethora of fineries would come so long as no one interfered with the beast or attempted to rescue the girl that was chosen. All they had to do was simply remain in their beds and ignore the screams and the pleas of their children.
I suppose it was harder for Mrs. Kohler to cry when she was strung up in the softest colored silks and lace day after day, jewels and pearls dripping from her ear lobes and forming sparkly shackles around her wrists and throat. Her husband was adorned with the finest of wool suits, leather shoes, and tweed coats money could afford. Gold coins and arrogance trailed in their wake, they were as proud as peacocks with their noses in the air and feathers out for all to see. Nearly ten years to the date later and they were still eating up every murmur of praise and thanks offered up to their family for keeping the Fae satisfied, the Village safe, and the bargain upheld.

And all it had cost them was their only child.

Due to this blessings that would follow the family of The Procured, some people fell prey to the alluring whispers of envy and greed. They were the ones who took that ten year span to produce as many children as they could afford, hoping only for girls. They'd then have the audacity to start grooming them, attempting to make them more desirable for when the next Procuring would take place just so they could have all of those materialistic things for themselves.

What made it worse was that, that was exactly how my family was.

Not at my parents hands, no, they were saints. Unfortunate circumstances took them from us earlier than they should have. Mama passed away shortly after delivering Juniper, leaving us with Papa alone. He felt that we needed a female role model in our lives so he packed us up and moved across the Village into our Aunt Dreeva's cottage. She may have been Mama's sister, but she certainly did not share her heart and compassion for others. It only got worse after Papa went to serve in one of the Civil Wars that were erupting all across Belkhar. He promised that he'd return soon and he kept good his word.
I only wish he had returned standing on his own two feet, arms outstretched to receive us girls in a well overdue hug instead of in a hastily made wooden coffin dropped off at the Church. A small green, blue, red, and gold folded flag placed on top. Aunt Dreeva didn't shed so much as a single tear at either of my loving parent's funerals. I know now it must have been because her mind was too busy drowning in ideas and possibilities to focus on proper human emotions. Her and her mind are still busy to this day.

The Procuring was coming quickly and since Juniper, my younger sister, and I both had our first bleeding years ago. Dreeva now had three participants in the event. And she was determined to win.