The Chosen

Sephora pulled back her auburn hair, clipping it back with a black clasp in a half-down half-up fashion, and smoothing down her grey winter dress. Although it wasn't yet winter, on the run up to Samhain the autumn humidity suddenly drops at a rapid pace. Nights become cold, and mornings are frosty - Sephora hates the cold.

"Sephora?" Zach's little voice echoed down the staircase, down to where she stood waiting by the door.

Sephora turned and grinned, to see her little brother clambering down the stairs with a smile that looked like he didn't have a care in the world. She wished she could share her brother's optimism about the world. It wasn't as though he was ignorant of the events that were occurring around him; he just chose not to let it get him down - you would never see him upset about anything, he could always find the good in things. Sephora loved him all the more for it.

At the last of the steps, her brother hesitated and Sephora knew what was coming. With a cheeky smile, Zach bent his legs and jumped with all his might, to land smoothly in Sephora's arms with a laugh.

"Oof, you're getting heavier!" She huffed, adjusting her hold on her brother, so it was more secure. Zach grinned and informed her, "It's because I'm getting big and strong." He boasted.

"Yes I think you're right."

"And one day I will be able to give you a piggy-back!"

Sephora laughed. "Oh, I look forward to that - I'm going to make you carry me everywhere, all around the town..." She began to tickle him. He started squirming and squealing with giggles. "And around and around..."

Zach tried to fight her off, as she poked and prodded his little body. "And all the way home!" She ceased her tickling and Zach was weak with laughter, as Sephora gently set him down, laughing herself.

She was surprised to find that now she wasn't as nervous as she had been a few seconds ago.

"Come on, up you get Zach." Her father gently held a hand to help the boy to his feet. Zach stood, quickly finding Sephora's hand and looking up expectantly at his parents. Their father looked to his wife, before turning his attention to his children with a nod. "Let's go."

________________

The Town Square was packed to the brim with people. The entire population had all gathered before the Elder's Guild Hall, to await The Choosing ceremony.

Before the white octagonal mansion, known as the Elder's Guild Hall, was a raised wooden platform, and atop the platform was a large obsidian stone fire-pit they called The Roghnoir. The fire-pit was created by the Ardanams and given to the Mortal lands for this very purpose, to fairly choose the sacrifice that would uphold the treaty.

The Choosing ceremony itself, would be carried out as follows: everyone's name would be written on a piece of paper, regardless if you were old or young, rich or poor - your name would be written down and collected together by the Elders, even the Elders themselves would put their names down.

The Roghnoir's fires would be lit and all the names would be tossed into the flames to burn. All the names would turn to ash, except one. Once The Roghnoir had chosen a name, the fires would die down, and the Elders would read out the name of the chosen.

However, once their name had been read, The Chosen would quickly be put under surveillance, having The Chosen dying before their time.

Sephora shielded her hazel eyes with a hand, under the glare of the afternoon sun; as she watched her father take his pace on the wooden platform beside the other Elders. Under the tidal wave of anxiety swirling in her stomach, Sephora admitted that she felt a glimmer of pride for her father. And then absolute terror, at the thought of her father's name being read out.

she didn't know how she would cope, worse still, how her mother would cope without him. Sephora gave a shiver, trying to take her mind away from such dark fantasies.

Just then, one of the Elders stepped forward and addressed the crowds in a loud voice.

"I thank you all for gathering here in such an orderly and patient manner, I understand these couple of days must be difficult for most of you. But tomorrow is a very important and momentous day." He cleared his throat.

"Tomorrow marks exactly 500 years after The Great Purge, when so many of our brothers and sisters died defending our freedom. But it also marks 500 years of peace between us and the Ardanam people. for this, we should all be grateful."

Sephora couldn't help but scoff in disgust, glancing toward her father for his reaction, but as usual his face was closed and held no emotion at all. She held in her anger, just as she observed a large black chest being presented to the Elders on the platform. She hated that damned chest. And hushed silence went over the

crowds at the sight of it; the chest that held and carried every one of their names.

They watched the six Elders including Sephora's Father, walk up to the chest with the four of Them lifting the corners, whilst the other two took up the flaming touch.

The Roghnoir's fire was lit

Nervous and anxious murmurs became audible from the crowds at the sight of it. The four remaining Elders didn't even hesitate as they lifted the lid of the chest, and poured the names into the fire.

Sephora gripped her brother's hand like it was the only thing that kept her tethered to this world, as she watched the last of the names fall into the flaming pit. the flame that would burn every name to ash, except one. The Elders eventually set the chest aside and then simply stared and waited, along with the crowd. All in complete silence.

Sephora felt nauseous from watching, but at the same time felt completely removed from her body. She had no idea why she'd never been this nervous at The Choosing before, perhaps it was some of her mother's worries that had rubbed off on her. But the explanation didn't provide Sephora the comfort she needed as an eerie silence passed over the Town Square.

The Roghnoir's fires slowly died down. Her heart was thundering against her chest, so hard in fact, that Sephora was surprised that no one could hear it by now. She felt small arms wrapping around her leg and Sephora looked down to see her brother had buried his face into the skirts of her cotton dress.

Sephora gave him a reassuring squeeze. It pained her to see her brother this way, a child shouldn't have to grow up in this constant fear. It made Sephora more angry than she could possibly comprehend.

Sephora's attention was caught by the lead Elder, who now walked up to The Roghnoir and retrieved a small folded piece of paper, completely unblemished or touched in any way by the flames that had just burned.

He unfolded the piece of paper and silently read the name, before taking a breath and declaring the name of The Chosen to the crowds.

"Sephora Beltane."

The world slowed and stopped. All thoughts and sounds disappeared like they had been swept underwater, as a wave of numbness washed over Sephora's body. She couldn't do anything but stare ahead of her, unseeing, unbelieving and yet, it almost felt like she knew it had been coming.

All that worry had suddenly been washed away by her complete shock at what had just happened. She didn't even notice that everyone's eyes had all turned on her, her mother was in tears beside her and Zach was also crying in his mother's arms; she didn't even notice that she was being summoned by the Elders to the platform. Sephora just stood there.

Slowly sounds and senses were returned to her, and Sephora looked around her as if she'd just woken up, to find everyone was staring at her and

waiting for her to board the platform. Of her own accord, her feet suddenly began moving beneath her and before she knew it, she was walking herself up to the platform.

Sephora then remembered who was already up there, and snuck a glance at her father. He was pale, and not just pale from a lack of sunlight, but pale with genuine shock. Sephora had never seen her father look so horrified in her entire life. But she only stepped up onto the platform to stand beside the head Elder, and stared blankly at the silent crowds. she didn't want to focus on their faces, it was too hard.

The Elder addressed her, his eyes gazing only on the crowds as he asked,

"Are you Sephora Beltane?" Sephora knew how this all went.

"I am Sephora Beltane." She replied, her voice was low but firm.

"The Roghnoir has made its choice. Sephora Beltane you are The Chosen. And according to the Treaty signed by our ancestors and the Ardanam Lords of Igritann, you will be the sacrifice of the Mortal lands on the midnight of Samhain.

" As the honour of The Chosen has now been bestowed on you, you now have the right to demand anything you wish. Do you acknowledge this?"

"Yes." Sephora truly felt sick to her stomach.

"What is your wish?"

Sephora looked at some of the faces in the crowd and couldn't bear to see the sadness, the pity, the lingering fear and disbelief. She hated it, she wanted to wipe this day away from her memory, she wanted to take away all the pain. And so, in that moment she knew what she wanted.

Granted it was only a temporary relief, but it wasn't as though she'd be alive to see the effects undone.

"I want you all to join me in a grand celebration of life. A feast! With dancing and music, lots of food and drink. And I wanted you all to enjoy what it feels like to be alive, to enjoy every second of it, as if it was your last night on earth." Sephora couldn't help saying those last words. Even if it made her cruel and insensitive, she didn't care, not any more.

After the crowds had all left the Town Square, her family joined her on the platform Before Sephora would be taken away into the Elder Guild Hall, where she would spend her last night.

Zach came running up the steps and flew himself onto Sephora, squeezing her in a hug with all his might, as if he could prevent her from leaving. She hugged him back just as tightly, sending a silent prayer up for him, that he would never be The Chosen.

She put her brother down, just as her mother walked up and gave her a bone-crushing embrace. Sephora groaned in protest at the constriction of her lungs, but her mother ignored her, giving a shaky breath that told Sephora her mother had been crying for a while.

"I love you so, so much, Sephora." Her mother released her and took a step back to grasp her husband's hand.

"We are so proud of you...and..." Her mother was trying hard to fight back her tears. Sephora felt like her heart was breaking.

" I'm so sorry to see you leave us like this.. I wish I wish..." Her mother let out a sigh.

"If only I was allowed one wish." Her mother's eyes gleamed with tears and Sephora understood the look in her mother's face. That told her exactly what her mother Would have wished for.

But it was Sephora's father. her father of all people, who looked Sephora straight in the eye and said,

"Or, she will be strong enough to become a Nuanam."

Both Sephora and her mother were shocked at what her father had said, and he looked dead serious about it. Her mother looked at Sephora and gave a little nod, as if to say it could be a possibility, but she didn't believe it would happen. For a second Sephora thought her father had said it merely to make her mother feel better, but the way he'd said it... To Sephora it almost felt like a challenge, like he wanted her to fight it , to dare her to overcome death and become something greater, like he believed in her.

That thought alone, despite everything that had just happened, was almost enough to bring Sephora to tears.

Sephora just nodded at her father, just as two figures draped in pitch black hooded cloaks approached. She felt a shiver down her spine at the sight of them. They both stopped before her, and simultaneously held up a hand guiding her to the front door of the Elder Guild Hall.

Sephora reluctantly walked up the steps of the great mansion, pausing once she reached the threshold, to turn back and wave to her family who now looked so small alone on that platform. Sephora felt her throat close up, and before she could come to her senses of what was happening, she walked into the mansion and the mighty oak doors shut behind her.

¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶

Sephora hurled into the toilet again, savouring the cold porcelain against her clammy hands as she gripped the sides of the bowl.

Tears threatening to fall stung her eyes, the same as the bile that now stung her throat and mouth. She spat into the toilet before reaching up to flush the chain, watching the contents of her stomach being washed away in a whirl of water. Anything to keep her mind off tomorrow night.

She was given a room that overlooked the gardens and was told that it gave a gorgeous view of the sunset. It was decorated with white and gold and ivory. With a huge chandelier suspended over an even bigger four poster bed, with delicate silk curtains to keep out any insects or prying eyes.

A large dressing table and vanity was placed thoughtfully along the back wall, so it reflected and illuminated the room with sunlight from the mirror. The marble floors went well with the rest of the mansion's floors, and was polished enough that Sephora could see her own reflection looking down at her. It was beautiful, but Sephora only looked at all the expensive materials and the light colours and saw nothing but ash.

It left no effect on her whatsoever. they could have given her a room fit for a queen or a dusty empty room in the attic and she would have felt exactly the same. She felt hollow and empty and bringing herself to care about anything now required too much effort.

It was strange, knowing the exact time, the exact day and the exact way you were going to die. She hated it, she hated knowing that her life was going to end just like that, so abrupt and without really having done any good in the world. She had so much more she wanted to do, she wanted to help people, to make life better, shewanted to leave the world better than the one she'd been born into.

Her mother said she was proud of her, but proud of what?

"for existing?

Because what Sephora had really done her whole life was exist, simply waiting and knowing that soon her time would come. But she'd never really done anything great, never felt proud of herself or felt like she'd achieved anything. This couldn't be how she left the world behind.

But at the end of the day, no matter how much she fussed and worried about what could have been here was absolutely nothing Sephora could do about it.

Tomorrow night, she will die.