This was it; the moment she had been preparing for her entire life. Saskia took a deep breath and smoothed down a wrinkle in her blue and white satin robes. The old Shaman checked Saskia's hair one last time, making sure not a single hair was out of place and that each colorful ribbon was tied correctly. It had taken the old Shaman nearly three hours to do Saskia's hair and makeup in preparation for the dance. Earrings of ivory and jade weighed down Saskia's earlobes, and a single jewel adorned her forehead.
The old Shaman stepped in front of Saskia to give her a once-over, then nodded her approval. She handed Saskia two folding fans made of fluffy indigo feathers, then stepped aside. Saskia licked her lips, wondering at how suddenly her mouth had gone dry. She hesitated, then stepped out from the tent into the light.
Her bare feet padded against the cold rock as she made her way to the painted octagon in front of the looming cave entrance. A single drum sounded from inside the tent as she took her place in the center of the octagon and got into position. She tried to not look inside the cave; she would lose her nerve if she happened to see a pair of glowing, golden eyes watching her from the darkness.
Saskia opened one fan in each hand, with one covering her downturned face and the other above her head. She spread her feet apart, lining them up with her shoulders, and waited for the signal.
No human eyes would witness her dance. Only the Shaman and the drummer were allowed to be present at the ceremony, and even they had to stay inside the tent during it. But even though they would not see it, it was imperative that she get it right.
It felt like a lifetime before the drum sounded again, signaling the start of the ceremony. Saskia inhaled, then flipped the fan away from her face. Arms extended, toes pointed, back arched, she glided through each of the steps. The fans became extensions of her arms, floating through the air with each graceful turn. She bent backward until the ribbons in her hair brushed the hard ground, then lifted her leg until it was straight up in the air.
Saskia righted herself with ease, then twisted her torso. She spun on the ball of her foot, the fans extended so they stirred up the air as she spun. As she danced, she reached out with her mind and heart, calling upon the ancient spirits within the trees, asking for their guidance and blessing. She did not call on the ancient being in the cave; that would come later.
Saskia continued bending, twisting, and spinning in her intricate dance. A short time passed where she felt nothing, her heart sinking. But then she felt the faintest glimmer: one of the spirits had answered her call. Energy and power swelled within her chest, radiating out until it tingled in her fingertips. She clutched her fans to keep from dropping them and continued dancing with increasing vigor.
The drummer increased the tempo from within the tent, and she followed his lead. The dance changed from one of slow, graceful strength to one of breathless, wild energy. The steps in this portion of the dance were complex, but Saskia was confident in her movement. She had practiced until her feet knew the dance by muscle memory. Her robes spun around her legs and her earrings thumped against her neck as she whirled, jumped, and dipped.
A low, predatory rumble reverberated from the cave. Saskia's heart leaped in her chest, and she almost faltered. It was a good thing her body knew the dance so well, for her mind had gone blank. Still, she kept dancing, and when she regained her senses she found she was nearing the end of the ceremony. She grit her teeth, swallowed her fear, and pushed through.
The end came sooner than she expected. Before she knew it she had come to the final steps of the dance. She spun around, one fan in the air above her, the other behind her back. With a flourish, Saskia dropped to the ground in a deep bow just as the drum stopped.
The silence that followed as she held her position, chest heaving with exertion, was almost deafening. This was the crucial moment. The ceremony was over; now it was time for the judgement.
Saskia kept her head down, waiting for the ancient being in the cave to acknowledge the ceremony. Her heart thumped in her chest and her breathing seemed to echo and bounce off the surrounding rocks.
Still, she waited. What was taking so long? She lifted her head slightly so that she could take a peek into the cave.
A scaly snout with nostrils bigger than her head was less than an arm's length away from her face. Two glowing, golden eyes regarded her with mild interest from behind the snout. Saskia let out an involuntary squeak in surprise and fear. Her whole body trembled with the overwhelming desire to flee, but she resisted with every ounce of willpower she had.
Saskia knew that she would be facing a dragon. She had heard stories of their might and power, but nothing could have prepared her for this. The dragon's every breath enveloped her in heat and its great maw, while currently closed, could easily swallow her in one bite.
If her dance did not please the Ancient One, that may very well be what happened to her. Remembering that she was supposed to be bowing, Saskia ducked her head. She had come here fully aware that she might lose her life. If the Great Dragon did not accept the ceremony, then she was to offer herself up as a sacrifice to appease him. She had come to terms with this reality years ago, but the paralyzing fear that overcame her in the presence of the Ancient One took her completely by surprise.
You are afraid. The dragon's voice, deep and booming, filled her mind so completely it drove out any other thoughts.
Saskia had no idea what to make of this new development. She had never heard of the Ancient One speaking to a dancer before.
You are afraid, the dragon spoke again.
Saskia licked her lips. "Of course I am, Ancient One," she said, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of her voice.
You worry about your fear.
Saskia jolted. It was as if the dragon had seen straight through her heart. She took a deep breath. "I should have been better prepared," she admitted. It was pointless to say anything other than the truth to one so astute. "I am ashamed to enter your presence tainted by fear."
Fear is a normal, healthy emotion. You would do well to learn to embrace it.
Saskia couldn't help raising her head to look at the dragon in astonishment. She was further bewildered to see a look of amusement in the Ancient One's glowing eyes.
"Embrace fear?" Saskia squeaked. "For a dancer to show fear during the ceremony is to bring shame upon her entire house."
A strange, low chuffing nose came from the dragon's chest; Saskia realized that the Ancient One was laughing.
Her fear fled to make way for raw anger. "Is generations of shame on my family something you find funny?"
The Ancient One lowered his gaze. My amusement was not at your expense. The dragon stood until it towered over Saskia, and she had to stand and back away just to meet his gaze. My amusement was at the fact that your people have been sending their daughters as sacrifices for so long for reasons that are misguided at best, and downright deceptive at the worst.
Saskia staggered backwards, only just keeping her footing. "What?"
The Ancient One opened its maw, exposing long rows of jagged, sharp teeth. I admire your fear. If not for your fear, I would have continued in my ignorance of the truth behind your people's senseless ceremonies.
"Senseless?" Saskia asked, confused. "But what of those dancers who never returned? Did you not accept their sacrifice when their dance failed to please you?"
The Dragon's gaze seemed to penetrate her soul. Every dancer that has performed here has left my presence alive.
A chill ran down Saskia's spine. Every one has left alive? But she knew of at least three who had lost their lives when their ceremony did not appease the Ancient One. If the dragon had not killed them, then that meant...
I see that I have caused you some distress. The Dragon's words interrupted her line of thinking. He leaned down and brushed his cheek on the wall of the cave. Several scales came loose, falling to the ground in a series of clinks.
Take these, the Ancient One said. Show them to your people and relay my message.
"Message?" Saskia asked even as she headed over to pick up the scales. The scales were thin and light, and as big as her palm. She picked up three, admiring the way they glimmered in the sunlight.
My message is this: From this day forth, no longer shall your people send their daughters to me as sacrifices. That day has passed.
Saskia whipped her head up at his words. "But what about the ceremony? How will we keep the world in balance if we do not have your assistance?"
You already know the answer. The Great Dragon sat back down so he could bring his head closer to her level. Do you not?
Saskia opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. The dragon had not realized the true nature of the ceremony until now. That meant that he had been doing nothing to restore balance to the world in the four hundred years her people had been performing the ceremony. But there was no denying that the ceremony worked--they had plenty of evidence that it did.
"You mean that the dancers are the ones who restore the balance, not you?" The realization hit her as she recalled the portion of the ceremony when she called upon the spirits in the trees for help. She had thought she was calling on them to help her please the Great Dragon--instead, they had been helping her restore the balance of the world.
Go, Young Dancer, the Ancient One said. Your fear has opened our eyes to our ignorance and to the deception of your people. I thank you.
Saskia clutched the precious scales to her chest. She picked up her fans that she didn't even remember dropping, then dipped into a low, respectful bow. She straightened, then headed for the tent without looking back. The Old Shaman owed her some answers.
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