Orion

Orion began the last hours of his life in a dark and damp cell.

He was shackled to the wall, and was dressed in a simple tunic and pants. His blonde hair hung in his grey eyes, and he was filthy. He shook his head, trying to get the hair out of his eyes, but instead only succeeded in getting more into them.

Sighing, he relaxed and let the shackles hold him up. He could still remember what had happened the day before.

"He is the one that will be Sacrificed this year," the Sacrificial Master had announced at his home. His mother had turned pale, and his sisters had clung onto him, their eyes wide with fear.

"No, please," his mother had pleaded the Master. "There must be some kind of mistake! He's only seventeen!"

"I'm afraid not, Madam," the Master sighed. "The stars have pointed to Mr DeFay here, and he must be Sacrificed by tomorrow."

His sisters, Cinder and Dione, had started bawling then, their hands like iron clamps on his arms. He had shaken then off gently, knowing that if his family tried to protect him from the Sacrifice, they would all be killed.

Now, he wished his family had held him back, no matter how selfish of him that was. "Curse Devorantem," he muttered. "Why me?"

If he wasn't about to be sacrificed, he wouldn't dare curse the god above. But now, the god couldn't do anything to him. Not anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of a lock turning echoed through his cell. He raised his head and saw the silhouette of a man in a uniform. A Reginald.

"Alright kid," the Reginald sighed. "Let's get this over with."

He crossed the threshold and unlocked Orion's shackles. The boy crumpled to the ground, his legs too stiff to support him. The Reginald sighed again and helped him up, slinging one of the boy's arms around his own shoulders.

"It'll all be over soon, boy," The Reginald said, apparently in an attempt to make him feel better. "Just a few more minutes and it'll all end."

Orion grunted through his nose. This was not helping.

The Reginald helped him out of the dungeons of the city. The sudden burst of daylight made the boy groan and squeeze his eyes shut. He was exhausted, and he just wanted to go home. But that was no longer an option.

The Sacrificial Master was waiting at the town square, his cloak as red as ever. Already, the hood was covering his face. "Place him at the stake," the Master instructed in a serious tone. The Reginald obeyed and carried Orion over to the dark as night pole sticking out of the stone stage. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was too much.

The Reginald tied his wrists and ankles to the stake. A pile of dry kindling was added by his feet. He frowned. Every year, each sacrifice was different. Some drowned, some bled to death, and some, like he was apparently about to, burnt to death.

He remembered the first ever Sacrifice he had experienced. It was a gloomy day, and even though he had begged to go to the ceremony, he had wished he hadn't in the end. The woman had been burnt to death at the stake, just like how he was about to die. What a coincidence, he thought.

"People of Instopia!" The Master called once he was on stage. "Today, we hold our annual Sacrifice! May Devorantem bless us as we offer up this soul to him!" He swung his arm to Orion, earning a cheer from the crowd. Like all other times, the cheer had a miserable note to it.

Instead of trying to struggle, Orion simply laid still. He knew there was no way he could escape. He let himself relax and forced himself to breathe evenly.

"Today, we give up the soul of our brave Orion DeFay!" The Master continued. He said it as if he had had a choice, as if he had volunteered to be Sacrificed. What a joke.

"As the twilight approaches, let the mighty god above accept our gift!"

The Master turned to an awaiting Reginald, who already had a lit torch in his hands. The Master accepted the torch and turned to Orion. He seemed surprised that he wasn't struggling to break free, but still, he approached to him, his steps even.

The Master was so close, he could feel the heat of the fire bathing his face. He involuntarily turned away, wincing. The Master started bending down.

The flames had almost touched the wood at his feet when screams started resonating from the crowd.