The sun hangs high in the cloudless blue sky, and shines down on the Academy grounds spread out across the landscape beneath it. Birds sing and squabble in the unspoiled expanse of the forest. Squirrels frolic in the cool shadow cast by the gnomonic dormitory tower. Bees buzz to-and-fro in the vegetable gardens. Horses and cattle graze peacefully in their pastures by the barns. The sun shines down on the Amphitheater, where the tiers of seats are slowly filling. The Academy's devotees are congregating to bear witness to the noble sacrifice of one of their own. The sun shines down on the Temple, where its light spills through a window into a tiny room in the basement, little more than a cell. The room is furnished with a simple desk and chair and a lumpy, uncomfortable cot, its covers neatly and precisely made. A privacy screen hides a shower and a toilet in one corner. There is no lock or handle on the inside of the heavy metal door; a small hatch at floor level allows food and supplies to be passed to the room's occupant. In this room, the sacrifice is waiting in her gray Academy uniform, kneeling in the sunbeam on the floor, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes closed, her breathing calm and steady. She is a teenaged doe, with dusky brown fur and the thin, graceful build typical of the cervine species. Her ears are slightly larger than average, and only serve to make her appear smaller than she actually his. The door to the cell opens and a silver-furred lupine wearing a light green Academy uniform enters. The doe opens her eyelids, revealing her large brown eyes, and speaks a greeting. "Good day, Danielle." "Good day, Cercis," the lupine politely returns the doe's greeting before continuing, "The ceremony will be beginning shortly. We can head over to the Amphitheater now if you're ready." Cercis nods and stands up. Her dainty cloven hooves are visible below the hem of her long gray dress as she clip-clops across the room towards Danielle. At the door, she pauses to take one last look at the tiny room where, by her own request, she has lived the last twelve days in near-complete isolation. She has spent her final days in prayer and contemplation, cleansing herself of impure thought through fasting and meditation. With every passing day, Cercis has grown more confident that she has chosen the correct path. Danielle gently takes Cercis by the arm and leads her away. ** The sun shines down on the Amphitheater, where the tiers of seats are packed full. The Academy's devotees are gathered, hot and sweaty in their formal uniforms. Some of them fan themselves, while others bear their discomfort stoically. They all anxiously anticipate the end of Cercis's life. In the shade of the Amphitheater's entrance tunnel, Cercis and Danielle stand and wait patiently. "Cercis, if you're not sure about this, you know it's not too late to back out." Cercis swallows and nods. "I know, Danielle." Danielle studies her companion; her lips are quivering and her ears are swiveling anxiously, but her eyes burn with determination. "You're not going to back out, are you, Cercis?" The doe shakes her head. "No. I volunteered to do this. I made a promise." She swallows nervously again. "A promise to myself. To the gods. To you. To them." She nods towards the Amphitheater where her audience awaits. "I'm ready t-t-to..." "...forfeit your life." Danielle finishes Cercis's sentence for her. Cercis nods. Her delicate hands are clasped at her waist, her fingers fidgeting fretfully out of nervous habit. "You're very brave, Cercis," Danielle says, and reaches out to reassuringly touch Cercis's arm. Her hands cease fidgeting and Cercis smiles at Danielle in silent thanks. A human assistant priestess approaches them. "Chief priestess Danielle, we're ready to begin whenever you are." "Thank you, Whexher. Cercis?" Cercis is silent for a moment, her eyes closed. She swallows and nods. "Alright, Danielle. I'm ready." Danielle takes her ceremonial gold stole from Whexher and drapes it across her own shoulders. With Danielle gently grasping her right arm and with Whexher on her left, Cercis steps out of the tunnel and into the sunlit Amphitheater. She can feel every pair of eyes in the audience looking at her and her steps falter for a second, but a soft squeeze from Danielle gives her the confidence to keep moving towards the stage where her life will end. The rhythmic clip-clop of her cervine hooves on the paving stones echoes in the hot, still air. Cercis's ears continue to swivel, but her eyes are locked straight ahead. Her small tail flicks nervously beneath her uniform, sending ripples through the fabric. The three of them climb the steps that lead onto the stage. At the center of the stage, a large wooden post is set into a raised hexagonal stone dais. Whexher leaves Cercis's side and joins another assistant priestess who is already waiting at the dais. Danielle releases the doe's arm and turns to face her. "Kneel," Danielle commands. Cercis drops to her knees. Arranged across the back of the stage are statues of the gods. Cercis's eyes look across them and she smiles. Soon she will be in their presence. Danielle steps in front of Cercis and speaks. "Cercis, are you prepared to bring your life to an end on this day?" It is the first question; by Academy Rules a willing sacrifice may respond in the negative to any of the three questions and continue to live without shame. "Yes," Cercis responds. "Cercis, I ask you again in the presence of these witnesses, your sisters, are you prepared to give your life on this day?" Cercis can feel her sisters watching her, hundreds of them, waiting for her to fill the silence with her answer. "Yes." "Cercis, I ask you one final time. Are you prepared to die on this day?" The quiet void of the Amphitheater is complete; some would swear that for a moment even the birds in the trees stopped singing. Everyone is holding their breath, wanting to hear if the quavering young doe kneeling on the stage will be brave enough to truly surrender herself to death. Cercis swallows the nervous lump in her throat. "Yes, Danielle," she says and lightly bows her head. The audience collectively releases their breath; Cercis senses the tiniest breeze rustle the fur on the back of her neck and wonders if it's just her imagination. "Cercis, by the power vested in me as chief priestess of this Academy, I condemn you to death, to be carried out immediately, here in the presence of the gods." At these words from Danielle, a shiver runs down Cercis's spine. There can be no turning back now; she has given the third affirmation and by the Rules she has officially given up her life. It occurs to Cercis that as of this moment, she is essentially dead. She finds the thought wonderfully freeing, and is smiling as Danielle helps her back to her feet. Danielle guides Cercis to the hexagonal dais. Cercis turns around and stands up straight with her back against the wooden post; for the first time she gets a good look at her audience. Her heart skips a beat when she sees just how many of them there are. It makes her feel good inside to know that they have all come here to be present at her death. Their devotion to the gods has led them here; their willing presence in this hot, uncomfortable place will make the noble sacrifice of Cercis's life all the more powerful. Cercis's wrists are bound tightly behind the post. With additional bindings around her ankles, waist, and chest, Cercis is firmly secured to the post by Whexher and the other assistant. Cercis fidgets slightly, testing the tightness of her bonds. She is helpless to prevent what she knows will happen next, and the knowledge makes her smile again. Cercis watches quietly as, under Danielle's direction, the two assistant priestesses pile logs and faggots of kindling on the dais around her. When they have completed their task, the assistants step back and politely curtsey to the bound doe. Cercis nods in thanks and Danielle approaches. The lupine places a black blindfold over Cercis's eyes and knots it firmly under her chin. Cercis has one last glimpse of Danielle's smiling green eyes before her vision is eclipsed; the blindfold material is wonderfully soft against her sun-warmed face. Danielle leans in and softly kisses Cercis on her forehead. "May the courage of the gods be with you, my friend," she whispers in her ear. "Thank you, Danielle. For everything." Though she can't see it, Cercis knows Danielle is smiling. A change in the feel of the air in front of her tells her that Danielle is no longer there. A moment later, Cercis's ears swivel of their own accord in response to a new sound off to her right: the soft whoosh of a lit torch. Danielle crosses the stage, carrying the flaming torch in front of her. When she reaches the dais, she stops. Blind and helpless, Cercis is quivering out of instinct, but what can be seen of her face shows no sign of fear at all. Danielle stoops and sets alight to the kindling piled around Cercis's feet. She waits a moment to make sure it has caught and then retreats to the edge of the stage. There is nothing left to do but to watch. The familiar sound of crackling kindling fills Cercis's ears as the aromatic scent of a wood fire tickles her nostrils and she silently rejoices. The death she has desired for so long is finally at hand. The audience watches for several long minutes as the fire languorously takes hold in the accumulated wood. Cercis fidgets slightly as the air around her gradually grows ever hotter. Sweat begins to bead on her fur and roll down the back of her neck, and her clothes clings uncomfortably to her body. Ten minutes in, the first exploratory flames begin to lick tentatively at the hem of Cercis's dress and the fabric begins to smolder. The dancing orange flames slowly climb higher and Cercis's outer dress begins to burn in earnest. The doe inhales a mouthful of smoke that stings her dry throat and she lets out a round of hacking coughs. The fire now climbs quickly further up the outside of Cercis's body; the thicker material of her underdress is proving to be marginally more fire resistant. Even though she cannot see it, Cercis can sense the flames crawling ever higher. With each passing second, the fire grows hotter and more powerful. Cercis lets out a yelp that changes rapidly into a cough; the flames are licking against her sensitive hooves. With flames now growing inside and out, the long skirt of her underdress finally catches alight. Behind the stake, Cercis's hands instinctively curl into fists as fire licks at her fingers. She strains against the ropes binding her to the stake, but they hold firm. The fire on her outer dress has now risen high enough to singe the fur on her chin and Cercis tosses her head back reflexively. The heat of the fire is so much more intense than she had ever dared to hope; the experience is everything she dreamed it to be. The fire on her underdress rises swiftly as more flames consume her leggings, baking her legs in agonizing heat. As her flesh is cooked away, the immense pain is replaced by a stinging numbness. She tugs ineffectually at the bindings around her wrists as the rising flames surround her hands. An errant red-hot ember strikes the sensitive skin of Cercis's large right ear. She cries out sharply and tosses her head to the left in reaction to the pain, but in her heart she knows there can be no escape. Breathing is becoming difficult, as every harsh gasp brings in as much smoke as air. Her heart pounds away behind her ribs, working to make the most of the available oxygen. The fire on her legs continues to rise and Cercis screams in intense anguish as the hungry flames devour her most sensitive region, searing her soft pink flesh and ravaging her fragile maidenhood. As tears soak into her blindfold, Cercis desperately reminds herself that this is what she wanted, what she asked for, in an effort to quiet the instincts screaming in the back of her mind. The conflagration continues its inexorable rise up Cercis's struggling form, progressively burning away her body's defenses, layer by excruciating layer. Her gray underdress blackens and disintegrates while giving off an acrid gray smoke and exposing her vulnerable belly. Her soft fur is scorched away, reducing her beautiful coat to nothing more than ash and smoke. Her unprotected epidermis sloughs off in horrid pale flakes and her exposed red flesh sizzles in the blistering heat of the fire. Another rising ember strikes her cheek and sets the velvety fur on her face alight; within seconds, Cercis's entire head is wreathed in fire. The primal scream that emerges from the depths of her ruined throat makes every devotee in the audience jump; a few even piss themselves in sudden fright. The blindfold material burns through and falls off her face into the roaring flames, revealing Cercis's raw, panicked eyes, and everyone sees the blazing red light of the dancing fire reflected in her vision. Dizzy from the pain and weak from blood-loss, Cercis is aware that she is past the point of no return. Her vision restored in her final moments, she takes one last look around herself. Her dress is in tatters; even as she watches the last few shreds burn away on her chest. Her fur is gone, leaving behind nothing but extensive swaths of raw crimson flesh glistening in the firelight. She dully realizes that there's hardly any pain at all anymore. Her soot-choked nostrils no longer register any scent whatsoever. Nor can she hear anything; her ears have been reduced to tiny nubs and her eardrums have ruptured. There is nothing left but the flames, surrounding her completely; she is at the center of her own personal inferno. Cercis looks out across her audience and sees them watching intently, unable to look away from the grotesque yet engrossing spectacle on the stage before them. Her roaming eyes finally fall on Danielle, kneeling with her assistants off to one side of the stage. Their gazes lock for a second and they both smile faintly. It is the last thing Cercis sees before her eyelids droop closed. She feels death beginning to claim her destroyed body, and welcomes its cold embrace. The gathered devotees watch in silence as Cercis raises her chin until her charred snout is pointing skyward. With flames dancing freely across her ruined flesh, she opens her mouth and sighs gently, releasing a faint puff of smoke and steam. As if on cue, the flames roar higher and completely obscure the doe from view. The sun shines down on the Amphitheater, where a pillar of gray smoke rises from the stage, twisting and shifting amorphously in the clear blue sky. Cercis's sacrifice complete, the devotees begin to leave the Amphitheater in ones and twos, anxious to get out of the heat. Danielle remains behind, waiting for the fire to burn itself out. ** The setting sun hangs low in the sky, and shines across the Academy grounds spread out across the landscape. Nocturnal creatures begin to stir as birds settle in for the night in the unspoiled forest. Fireflies flash in the elongated shadow cast by the gnomonic dormitory tower. Moths flit silently to-and-fro in the vegetable gardens. Devotees lead the horses and cattle in from the pastures to their stalls in the barns. The sun shines across the Amphitheater, bathing the quiet and empty tiers of seats in an orange glow. On the stage, Danielle kneels and prays silently beside a charred black skeleton in a pile of ash, the sightless skull smiling even in death. ** Author's Notes First draft begun Saturday, October 24, 2009, and completed Sunday, November 1, 2009. Final revisions completed Tuesday, November 3, 2009.