Under The Full Moon

The Ritual Begins

When Gale woke again, she was on her back, her head swimming and feeling as though a thousand angry hornets were caught inside her brain. The room was hot and stuffy, and Gale could already feel the sweat beads forming against the skin of her face, neck, and chest. Lifting a hand to try to wipe away some of the sweat that had begun to roll down the side of her face, she found she couldn't move her hand. The soft rattle of a chain and the tug at her wrist made her turn her head a little, carefully so as not to make her head hurt any worse than it was. Terror rose in her throat as she saw the metal cuff about her wrist, a tug of the other confirming that that one was bound as well. She didn't have to check to see that her legs were bound, she could feel the metal against her skin that held her legs down flat.

"Please... please let me go..." Gale whispered at first, her voice shaking in her throat as she tried to call out to anyone that might be near, though she didn't have much faith that there would be anyone there that would let her go, no matter how much she pleaded for them to do so. Something shuffling nearby made Gale turn her head a little faster than she had intended to, the angry hornets once more swarming in her head. She closed her eyes, letting out a small whine before she tried again. "I... I know you're th-there... please..." Gale begged, and though there was no reply, she could feel eyes on her. Watching her from the shadows that surrounded the center of the room where she was held captive, flat on her back on a marble slab.

The light that illuminated her was dim, the shadows just at the edge dancing as the candles licked at their wicks. She could smell something heavy in the air, a sickening smell of old herbs and sweat, and the only sound to be heard was that of whoever was nearby working on whatever it was they were working on. Beyond that, she couldn't see or hear much else, no matter how much she strained her senses to try to do so. As for where she was, Gale was unsure, and this alone frightened her.

Her pulse began to roar even louder in her ears, and confusion mixed with the fear that had already flashed through her when she heard something that sounded like chanting begin in the shadows around her a few minutes later. Gale's breath had picked up to a quickly panicked rise and fall of her chest, a prickly sensation flushing out from her face and over her body, which she had come to realize was bare of the dress she had been wearing. As the chanting grew closer, she began to struggle again, her breath leaving her throat in frightened gasps that reminded her much of the goats that the farmers kept when they reached the age of culling. She felt very much like one of the hooved beasts, tied up to the post and waiting for its turn. Her pleading began anew, though it escaped her lips in nothing more than a ragged set of whispers, one that could barely be heard over the chanting as hooded figures moved to stand around the altar on which she was restrained.

She couldn't see their faces, but she could see the hellish glow of their eyes behind the front of their hoods that dipped down over their foreheads. Their robes seem to be made of the shadows themselves, the long fabric that draped their bodies hanging low and brushing along the ground and hanging off their arms in great lengths. Their words were foreign to her, she couldn't make out what it was they were saying and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Their tones were almost monotonous, the highs and lows of their voice changing very little as they went about their chants, hands folded in front of their chests. The sticky heat of the room seemed to grow as the robed figures moved to stand close to the sides of the altar, their chanting seeming to draw up almost an electrical feeling in the room, though Gale couldn't be sure that wasn't just her own fear causing her skin and senses to prickle hectically.

From where she lay, Gale watched as those nearest to her feet moved to the sides, making way for the man she had seen previously. On his arm, an old woman hunched over with age walked. In her hand, she held a bowl and from it, Gale could smell the old herbs. From the old woman herself, the smell of old sweat and earth. When they stopped at the end of the altar, the old woman released the man's arm, her gnarled hand moving slowly before she cupped the bowl carefully. "She will do," The old woman croaked, the wicked grin she had seen on the man's face forming once more.

"Please, please let me go! My father will pay anything you ask!" Gale tried once more to reason with them, to plead for them to let her go. Her words fell on deaf ears, the chanting continuing as if she had said nothing, done nothing. The robed figures at her left moved back away from the altar as the old woman moved to start making her way up toward Gale's shoulder, Gale's eyes widening and her heartbeat feeling as though it would burst from her chest at any second. She seemed to inspect Gale with muddy brown eyes, her age-weathered face twisting in thought before she settled the bowl beside Gale's waist. She raised her hands, moving them to sweep her hood back off her head, her greasy black hair staying very much in the same place it had been when the hood had been up.

The old woman took up the bowl again, dipping her fingers in it and moving them to smear the contents onto Gale's forehead. When she tried to move her face away from the foul smell, the witch gave a disapproving grunt and reached out with her free hand. She grabbed Gale's chin hard, and with a strength that would have never been guessed from the elder upon the first glance. Holding Gale still, she drew a winding symbol across her forehead and down her cheeks. She paused to refresh the liquid on her fingers before she drew them down over Gale's throat and over her breast, first straight down over the center bone of her chest, then over the soft flesh of each breast as though drawing a suit of armor against her skin. She worked her way down Gale's body with the stinking fluids in the bowl before she looked to the man that had brought her into the chamber.

"You must speak the words clearly," The voice of the woman reached Gale again, her scratchy tone sounding for all the world like a toad that had learned to speak. "If you do not, they will not work as you want them to. And no matter what it is that happens, you are not to stop," She grunted again, looking to Gale. "This one has a fire spirit. One slip of the tongue, one missed word, and you will have more trouble than you will help," With this, she drew a satchel from within her robe and held it out to the man. "Place these as you have been instructed, and make her drink the rest of what is in the bowl,"

Taking up the satchel and bowl, the dark figure strode up to where the woman had been, waving over one of his attendants. The lithe figure of a woman with dark hair, clad in a tight-fitting black dress that accentuated every curve of her frame, moved from the shadows where she had been keeping herself tucked away until she was needed. She approached, looking to the figure that had summoned her as though she were looking at a God. "If need be, Gremora, you are to hold her," He spoke, his voice slipping from beneath his hood. The woman nodded, her acidic green eyes moving to rest on Gale with a look of what could only be interpreted as an extreme hatred. For what reason, Gale was unaware.

The cloaked man reached into the satchel, drawing three objects from within. The first was a grapefruit-sized pearl, its surface reflecting back the hazy orange light of the candles. The second, a long feather that seemed to be untouched despite being stuffed into the satchel. The third, Gale couldn't quite tell. It looked to her like it might have been a piece of bark. "Please... don't..." Gale started, though her words were silenced by a hand covering her mouth. The woman that had been summoned forward glared down at her, baring a sharp set of teeth.

"Your cries mean nothing..." She growled at her, her voice smooth, cold. Gale's breath came through her nose in rapid puffs, unable to breathe from her mouth with the woman's hand clasped down as tightly as it was. Tears blurred Gale's vision, running down over the sides of her face in hot trails as the objects were placed. The pearl was placed in the hollow of her throat and collar bone, the feather between her breasts, and the unknown object on her stomach just above her belly button. Gremora was waved away as the cloaked figure moved to stand at her head, the woman's green eyes narrowing at Gale in a warning. The man towered over Gale's head, his eyes burning down on her as he lifted his hands, holding them just over Gale's face.

"There is a giant burning within you. Always struggling to break free of the mortal prison that was beset upon it by the Lords of this realm, for their jealousy and fear of a being that steals their glory was too great. Hear my words and you may be freed!" The man called out, his voice booming in the room around them. The old woman smiled, her gumless mouth opening as she took up her place at Gale's feet, her hands moving to take up the same position of the man's, though over Gale's feet instead.

"Overjoyed is the man among us that has seen the mysteries that this realm has to offer. Tonight, we release a creature of light from this young woman's flesh. May she bring down a rain of fire to crush the Lords that have dared to hide her away from her true glory! It is with the energy of this temple, the objects that bind her, and the milk of this earth that we release her from her prison!" The croak of the old woman's voice seemed to have vanished, leaving her sounding like a completely different person. She moved one hand away from where they had been positioned over Gale's feet, motioning toward the bowl. "From this bowl, the milk of the earth! Drink, and you will be given the strength to burst forth with a power unmatched!" The man nearest to Gale's head reached for the bowl, holding it out to the man whose hands were held over her face. When he reached for it, Gale began to try to struggle again. She knew the smell, and she didn't want to find out how it tasted. Turning his head, the man nodded, and once more the woman that he had summoned forward approached. Reaching out, she roughly grabbed Gale's face in her hands, forcing her jaw open.

"You will do as you are told or I'll close off your airways," The woman hissed, moving one hand and threatening to pinch Gale's nose closed. The tears came again, burning at her eyes and face as the man lowered the bowl and forced the liquid into her mouth. Gale coughed, sputtering most of it out of her mouth at first, though the woman's actions followed her words. She pinched Gale's nose closed and she was forced to swallow the liquid if she wanted to breathe. The taste was worse than the smell, like the acrid flavor of rotten meat and vegetation. Once most of the liquid had been forced down, the woman was dismissed once more.