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have been walking for over an hour, and the path was still lined with people. Some prayed while others thanked her for her sacrifice. Caelia slowly followed the two dozen priests and mages in front of her, while several dozen nobles walked behind her, her mother among them. Several temple guards secured the flanks of the small procession to keep some too enthusiastic onlookers at bay. \n\nCaelia couldn’t be more uncomfortable and insecure about the situation. For her whole life, the priests prepared the young girl for her sacrifice. But how could an eight-year-old girl be truly prepared for the bleak fate decided at her birth? Though she kept walking with the company, Caelia knew her duty. \n\nYet the more pressing matter for the young cheetah at this very moment was the tearful eyes staring at her. The prayers in her name and the sobbing words of gratefulness whispered to her.  Additionally, wearing nothing but the ceremonial garb didn’t help either to avert the awkwardness accompanying her. Despite that, no one would describe Caelia as shy, even she knew some limits, and wearing nothing but a shirt that barely covered her crotch and butt, while hundreds of eyes watched her every step, certainly pushed her beyond any comfort zone. Of course, due to her predetermined fate, she never wore the fancy clothing her siblings did, though even Caelia used to be supplied with clothing that granted more modesty than this meager piece of fabric. The garb even lacked shoes! Caelia stared down to avoid the people’s gazes and to evade the sharp stones on the small pathway to the Mourning Mountains.  \n\nThey walked for several more hours, and the path carried them steadily uphill, while onlookers got more sparse the further away they got from the more densely populated areas. As the mountain trail became steeper, the weather got colder and the wind stronger. Caelia envied the priests and nobles in their thick fur coats and sturdy boots, which provided perfect protection from the rough climate, unlike her skimpy clothing and short fur. Yet the ever-optimistic girl didn’t fail to notice the decreasing amount of eyes watching her as they started to climb the narrow mountain path. A fact she appreciated thoroughly, as it meant fewer people saw the undignifying moments when the sharp cold mountain wind crept beneath her short shirt and lifted it up to expose her bare butt and crotch. It took her quite some effort for the remaining distance to keep her one piece of clothing at least remotely where it was supposed to be. \n\nAt last, they arrived. The group faced the recently opened crevice, discovered just a few months prior. As far as Caelia knew, a new crack opened about every 10 - 20 years somewhere in the Mourning Mountains, and the priesthood took great efforts in finding them. They employed hundreds of so-called “Climbers” whose sole purpose was to search and find new crevices. Great fame and riches awaited the few fortunate ones who managed to find such a crack.\n\nThe priesthood believed those cracks to be the maws of the “God of many Deaths” and whenever one opened, it demanded a new sacrifice to sate his endless hunger. At least, so it was sung in the songs of old, with which Caelia was all too familiar. Yet not any life would suffice; it had to be the second-born child of the ruling family. Caelia’s brother, the second-born, had been sacrificed a few years before her birth. Though, when during the reign of the same family another maw opened, it meant the second child of the opposing gender had to be sacrificed as well. The second girl her mother gave birth to was Caelia. And thus, with no more second-borns, a new ruling house will be elected after the ceremony has concluded. So it has been handled for millennia in this secluded kingdom surrounded and protected by the nearly impassable Mourning Mountains.\n\nOnly the High Priest, three Spell Weaver, Caelia’s mother, and the young girl itself squeezed themselves through the small gap. Everyone else waited and prayed outside. Beyond the crack, the small group entered a vast cavern, the torchlight neither reaching the ceiling nor a sidewall. Despite the cave’s size and the harsh temperatures outside, the young girl noticed that she didn’t freeze anymore; in fact, even the stone touching her naked and bruised feet emitted a warming sensation. After having been outside wearing barely more than her own fur and marching the last two hours through snow that reached halfway up her shins, she certainly appreciated the warmth. \n\nA minute later, they reached a pillar with a large crack in its middle, emitting a faint unnatural light. The place of sacrifice, Caelia knew that. In fact, most of the procedure was no secret to her due to the endless teachings by the priests that dragged on for hours every day. As expected, the three Spell Weaver began their chant. Slowly the light shining out of the pillar became more vivid and intense. Suddenly three ropes of light emerged from the crack and slowly curled toward the girl’s neck like snakes of light. When they touched Caelia’s neck, the light wove itself around her neck and built a shackle. With that, the divine magic connected the young girl irreversibly to the pillar.\n\nThe band’s length didn’t permit her to walk more than half a dozen steps in any direction. While the Spell Weaver finished their job, the High Priest did pray. A prayer not dedicated to the God of many Deaths, or any other god, but to Caelia, to honor her sacrifice, so her people may continue to live undisturbed and unfaced from the divine wrath of the ancient god. Lastly, with the ritual mostly finished, her mother wished her beloved daughter goodbye with tears in her eyes. The older woman’s hands shook when she embraced Caelia. Her mother’s warm body comforted the young child, and Caelia couldn’t suppress her tears either. She didn’t wish to be parted from her mother, didn’t want to be alone in the dark cavern, didn’t want to die. Though she knew her duties well, and so the girl quickly regained her composure and simply enjoyed her mother’s comfort as long as she could. After too little time, the High Priest announced their departure. The Spell Weaver had to break up her mother’s embrace with gentle force as they saw as well as Caelia, that the opening to this cavern has already begun to slowly close. Her mother tried to reach her daughter’s hand as they almost dragged her toward the entrance, and likewise, the young child tried to grab her mother’s hand, despite being already hopelessly out of reach.\n\nShortly after the group had left, the crevice closed and disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. This pattern had never changed since the first cracks had been described in the songs of old. As soon as the rite concluded, the cracks began to close, neither by doing of nature nor by the Spell Weavers’ magic but as if conducted by the god itself. The crevice simply seemed to mend itself. Leaving Caelia alone and cut off from any outside sensation chained to a pillar in a vast dark cavern. \n\nUnfortunately, this marked the point that surpassed Caelia’s knowledge or that of anyone else. Thus rendered the girl clueless of the things to come. The priests believed that the light---the materialization of the God of many Deaths--- will devour her. But after plenty of nagging questions, the priests admitted to Caelia that they honestly didn’t know what would happen. No one ever returned to tell the tale after all. \n\nWill the light indeed kill her? A sensation like thousand needles stabbing her neck and running through her veins was ever-present since the light had connected with her. Though, she would be lying if she claimed the sensation to be uncomfortable or painful. It instead warmed her, invigorated her, as if a weight had been lifted off her. As far as she could tell, the light, as much as it trapped her in this inhospitable place, had no intention to harm her. Does that mean she’s going to starve to death? Will that be her sacrifice? Even for the bright, optimistic child, this outlook seemed quite bleak. Yet, for now, she only could wait.\n\nCaelia tried to make out any shapes beyond the meager light source that the pillar provided, but even her feline eyes couldn’t pierce the pitch-black darkness that lay behind the small ring of light that barely illuminated the area she could reach. Anything beyond the length of the short magic band tying her to the pillar seemed submerged into eternal blackness as if it wouldn’t want to exist at all. It didn’t take long before she gave up while other thoughts occupied her. \n\nGauging time presented itself to be impossible, without the sun or any other outside information. Still, just by the increasing boredom that began to mix into Caelia’s worries, she guessed that at least some hours must have passed by now. Including the many hours of walking without food, she should be starving. However, neither hunger nor thirst plagued her. Furthermore, her bruised feet seemed to have healed already. By all the young girl could tell, that should have been impossible, considering the copious amount of blisters and cuts. By all Caelia could tell, so far, this cavern did everything but trying to kill her; confusion rose in Caelia’s puzzled mind. What was going on?\n\nCaelia has slept several times, so she determined that several days must have passed by. Neither did she starve nor waste away, quite the opposite. Healthier and more vital than ever in her short life, her initial suspicion seemed to be confirmed that the light rather strengthened than harmed. Did that mean she had to grow up and die of old age in this cave? A whole lifetime in solitude and darkness? She struggled to believe that she preferred this fate over death. Though, for now, she could do nothing but wait and hope that this dreadful thought might not become a reality.\n\nDays became weeks, and weeks turned into months. Deprived of any means to measure time, the girl could only tell by her aging body that years must have passed by. Her clothing had slowly withered, like her hope for rescue---or at least a quick, merciful end. The boredom had become unbearable after just a few days, let alone years. She wished herself back to the teachings of the priests she used to find so horribly boring.\n\nOf course, with nothing to do, the girl quickly figured out that touching some parts of her body felt better than others. As one of the little sources of joy, she became very fond of touching those parts. Several times a day usually, but even this only could kill so much time. But mostly, she was doomed to just wait while years passed by. Waiting for what even? Death? She didn’t know; she didn’t have a choice. \n\nHer dress rotted away until she eventually found herself utterly nude. Only a side notice, no one saw her. The thought hurt her, as she realized that she’d gladly take the embarrassment of being exposed naked to everyone in the universe than to be not seen at all. \n\nAs her body aged with the years, she began to develop breasts. It didn’t take her long to discover that those also belonged to the fun to touch parts. Something she took time to explore to the fullest for the years to come. Years that passed by painfully slow, as her life became sitting, sleeping, and touching herself. \n\nAs she grew older, the frustration about her situation increased. Being trapped in this bleak place seemed unfair and became more and more unbearable. Caelia didn’t want to be alone anymore, she wanted to do---anything---anything new---experience something different. As her anger grew, she tried to break the magical bond with physical force, but without luck. She attempted to break the stone, but the stone only broke her bones. It did matter not, as the magic that bound her took mere moments to mend her shattered hand. Her hand recovered fully before the pain could reach her. When she screamed out of anger and disappointment, only her echo answered. There was no escape. And as more years passed, her anger dissipated, the frustration and boredom stayed. She kept waiting.  \n","description_bbcode_parsed":"<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>Ch.1<br /><br />They have been walking for over an hour, and the path was still lined with people. Some prayed while others thanked her for her sacrifice. Caelia slowly followed the two dozen priests and mages in front of her, while several dozen nobles walked behind her, her mother among them. Several temple guards secured the flanks of the small procession to keep some too enthusiastic onlookers at bay. <br /><br />Caelia couldn&rsquo;t be more uncomfortable and insecure about the situation. For her whole life, the priests prepared the young girl for her sacrifice. But how could an eight-year-old girl be truly prepared for the bleak fate decided at her birth? Though she kept walking with the company, Caelia knew her duty. <br /><br />Yet the more pressing matter for the young cheetah at this very moment was the tearful eyes staring at her. The prayers in her name and the sobbing words of gratefulness whispered to her.&nbsp;&nbsp;Additionally, wearing nothing but the ceremonial garb didn&rsquo;t help either to avert the awkwardness accompanying her. Despite that, no one would describe Caelia as shy, even she knew some limits, and wearing nothing but a shirt that barely covered her crotch and butt, while hundreds of eyes watched her every step, certainly pushed her beyond any comfort zone. Of course, due to her predetermined fate, she never wore the fancy clothing her siblings did, though even Caelia used to be supplied with clothing that granted more modesty than this meager piece of fabric. The garb even lacked shoes! Caelia stared down to avoid the people&rsquo;s gazes and to evade the sharp stones on the small pathway to the Mourning Mountains.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />They walked for several more hours, and the path carried them steadily uphill, while onlookers got more sparse the further away they got from the more densely populated areas. As the mountain trail became steeper, the weather got colder and the wind stronger. Caelia envied the priests and nobles in their thick fur coats and sturdy boots, which provided perfect protection from the rough climate, unlike her skimpy clothing and short fur. Yet the ever-optimistic girl didn&rsquo;t fail to notice the decreasing amount of eyes watching her as they started to climb the narrow mountain path. A fact she appreciated thoroughly, as it meant fewer people saw the undignifying moments when the sharp cold mountain wind crept beneath her short shirt and lifted it up to expose her bare butt and crotch. It took her quite some effort for the remaining distance to keep her one piece of clothing at least remotely where it was supposed to be. <br /><br />At last, they arrived. The group faced the recently opened crevice, discovered just a few months prior. As far as Caelia knew, a new crack opened about every 10 - 20 years somewhere in the Mourning Mountains, and the priesthood took great efforts in finding them. They employed hundreds of so-called &ldquo;Climbers&rdquo; whose sole purpose was to search and find new crevices. Great fame and riches awaited the few fortunate ones who managed to find such a crack.<br /><br />The priesthood believed those cracks to be the maws of the &ldquo;God of many Deaths&rdquo; and whenever one opened, it demanded a new sacrifice to sate his endless hunger. At least, so it was sung in the songs of old, with which Caelia was all too familiar. Yet not any life would suffice; it had to be the second-born child of the ruling family. Caelia&rsquo;s brother, the second-born, had been sacrificed a few years before her birth. Though, when during the reign of the same family another maw opened, it meant the second child of the opposing gender had to be sacrificed as well. The second girl her mother gave birth to was Caelia. And thus, with no more second-borns, a new ruling house will be elected after the ceremony has concluded. So it has been handled for millennia in this secluded kingdom surrounded and protected by the nearly impassable Mourning Mountains.<br /><br />Only the High Priest, three Spell Weaver, Caelia&rsquo;s mother, and the young girl itself squeezed themselves through the small gap. Everyone else waited and prayed outside. Beyond the crack, the small group entered a vast cavern, the torchlight neither reaching the ceiling nor a sidewall. Despite the cave&rsquo;s size and the harsh temperatures outside, the young girl noticed that she didn&rsquo;t freeze anymore; in fact, even the stone touching her naked and bruised feet emitted a warming sensation. After having been outside wearing barely more than her own fur and marching the last two hours through snow that reached halfway up her shins, she certainly appreciated the warmth. <br /><br />A minute later, they reached a pillar with a large crack in its middle, emitting a faint unnatural light. The place of sacrifice, Caelia knew that. In fact, most of the procedure was no secret to her due to the endless teachings by the priests that dragged on for hours every day. As expected, the three Spell Weaver began their chant. Slowly the light shining out of the pillar became more vivid and intense. Suddenly three ropes of light emerged from the crack and slowly curled toward the girl&rsquo;s neck like snakes of light. When they touched Caelia&rsquo;s neck, the light wove itself around her neck and built a shackle. With that, the divine magic connected the young girl irreversibly to the pillar.<br /><br />The band&rsquo;s length didn&rsquo;t permit her to walk more than half a dozen steps in any direction. While the Spell Weaver finished their job, the High Priest did pray. A prayer not dedicated to the God of many Deaths, or any other god, but to Caelia, to honor her sacrifice, so her people may continue to live undisturbed and unfaced from the divine wrath of the ancient god. Lastly, with the ritual mostly finished, her mother wished her beloved daughter goodbye with tears in her eyes. The older woman&rsquo;s hands shook when she embraced Caelia. Her mother&rsquo;s warm body comforted the young child, and Caelia couldn&rsquo;t suppress her tears either. She didn&rsquo;t wish to be parted from her mother, didn&rsquo;t want to be alone in the dark cavern, didn&rsquo;t want to die. Though she knew her duties well, and so the girl quickly regained her composure and simply enjoyed her mother&rsquo;s comfort as long as she could. After too little time, the High Priest announced their departure. The Spell Weaver had to break up her mother&rsquo;s embrace with gentle force as they saw as well as Caelia, that the opening to this cavern has already begun to slowly close. Her mother tried to reach her daughter&rsquo;s hand as they almost dragged her toward the entrance, and likewise, the young child tried to grab her mother&rsquo;s hand, despite being already hopelessly out of reach.<br /><br />Shortly after the group had left, the crevice closed and disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. This pattern had never changed since the first cracks had been described in the songs of old. As soon as the rite concluded, the cracks began to close, neither by doing of nature nor by the Spell Weavers&rsquo; magic but as if conducted by the god itself. The crevice simply seemed to mend itself. Leaving Caelia alone and cut off from any outside sensation chained to a pillar in a vast dark cavern. <br /><br />Unfortunately, this marked the point that surpassed Caelia&rsquo;s knowledge or that of anyone else. Thus rendered the girl clueless of the things to come. The priests believed that the light---the materialization of the God of many Deaths--- will devour her. But after plenty of nagging questions, the priests admitted to Caelia that they honestly didn&rsquo;t know what would happen. No one ever returned to tell the tale after all. <br /><br />Will the light indeed kill her? A sensation like thousand needles stabbing her neck and running through her veins was ever-present since the light had connected with her. Though, she would be lying if she claimed the sensation to be uncomfortable or painful. It instead warmed her, invigorated her, as if a weight had been lifted off her. As far as she could tell, the light, as much as it trapped her in this inhospitable place, had no intention to harm her. Does that mean she&rsquo;s going to starve to death? Will that be her sacrifice? Even for the bright, optimistic child, this outlook seemed quite bleak. Yet, for now, she only could wait.<br /><br />Caelia tried to make out any shapes beyond the meager light source that the pillar provided, but even her feline eyes couldn&rsquo;t pierce the pitch-black darkness that lay behind the small ring of light that barely illuminated the area she could reach. Anything beyond the length of the short magic band tying her to the pillar seemed submerged into eternal blackness as if it wouldn&rsquo;t want to exist at all. It didn&rsquo;t take long before she gave up while other thoughts occupied her. <br /><br />Gauging time presented itself to be impossible, without the sun or any other outside information. Still, just by the increasing boredom that began to mix into Caelia&rsquo;s worries, she guessed that at least some hours must have passed by now. Including the many hours of walking without food, she should be starving. However, neither hunger nor thirst plagued her. Furthermore, her bruised feet seemed to have healed already. By all the young girl could tell, that should have been impossible, considering the copious amount of blisters and cuts. By all Caelia could tell, so far, this cavern did everything but trying to kill her; confusion rose in Caelia&rsquo;s puzzled mind. What was going on?<br /><br />Caelia has slept several times, so she determined that several days must have passed by. Neither did she starve nor waste away, quite the opposite. Healthier and more vital than ever in her short life, her initial suspicion seemed to be confirmed that the light rather strengthened than harmed. Did that mean she had to grow up and die of old age in this cave? A whole lifetime in solitude and darkness? She struggled to believe that she preferred this fate over death. Though, for now, she could do nothing but wait and hope that this dreadful thought might not become a reality.<br /><br />Days became weeks, and weeks turned into months. Deprived of any means to measure time, the girl could only tell by her aging body that years must have passed by. Her clothing had slowly withered, like her hope for rescue---or at least a quick, merciful end. The boredom had become unbearable after just a few days, let alone years. She wished herself back to the teachings of the priests she used to find so horribly boring.<br /><br />Of course, with nothing to do, the girl quickly figured out that touching some parts of her body felt better than others. As one of the little sources of joy, she became very fond of touching those parts. Several times a day usually, but even this only could kill so much time. But mostly, she was doomed to just wait while years passed by. Waiting for what even? Death? She didn&rsquo;t know; she didn&rsquo;t have a choice. <br /><br />Her dress rotted away until she eventually found herself utterly nude. Only a side notice, no one saw her. The thought hurt her, as she realized that she&rsquo;d gladly take the embarrassment of being exposed naked to everyone in the universe than to be not seen at all. <br /><br />As her body aged with the years, she began to develop breasts. It didn&rsquo;t take her long to discover that those also belonged to the fun to touch parts. Something she took time to explore to the fullest for the years to come. Years that passed by painfully slow, as her life became sitting, sleeping, and touching herself. <br /><br />As she grew older, the frustration about her situation increased. Being trapped in this bleak place seemed unfair and became more and more unbearable. Caelia didn&rsquo;t want to be alone anymore, she wanted to do---anything---anything new---experience something different. As her anger grew, she tried to break the magical bond with physical force, but without luck. She attempted to break the stone, but the stone only broke her bones. It did matter not, as the magic that bound her took mere moments to mend her shattered hand. Her hand recovered fully before the pain could reach her. When she screamed out of anger and disappointment, only her echo answered. There was no escape. And as more years passed, her anger dissipated, the frustration and boredom stayed. 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