[identity profile] dedra.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: Sacrifice
Author: [livejournal.com profile] spikespetslayer
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: none
Fandom: none
Warnings: none





The sun was hot and welcoming on his naked back as he walked to the small stone building to prepare himself for the day.

He was not looking forward to the day in itself; moreso looking forward to the honor it would restore to his family. Ever since his uncle had performed the unspeakable deed that had stripped his family of all status and standing, they had been living in the streets on the edge of the large city, staying in a small stone hut that had crumbled in some areas, sitting empty since the old hag that had lived there died last rain.

He swung his arms around in half circles to warm his muscles. The run would be hard; he had been warned by the priests beforehand that it would be difficult to run the length necessary and still have enough energy to climb the stairs to the top, but determination was deep in his soul. He watched the approach of the junior priests with the bowls of texotli to paint his flesh, the flesh that he was freely offering. They surrounded him and bowed from the waist to the four directions of the wind god, chanting blessings under their breath, then turned to him and painted him with broad, even strokes that covered him in very little time.

He did his bows in turn, asking for the blessings of the wind gods as he did so. He turned to the priests with a wordless question and his mother was allowed to step forward to speak with him in his moments before the run.

“I give you my blessings, my son. Do what you must to restore the honor to our family.”

He bowed to her in turn and took her hands. “I give my life in the man-price for the sins of your brother. Take my sacrifice and use it wisely to return the honor to our family. Marry my sisters to good men and my brother—apprentice him to a good man who will teach him a trade. I will be watching from my place at the right hand of the god, mother. I bid you goodbye.”

He ignored the tears that sparkled in her eyes. The priests led her away as he stretched his arms to the sun. It was time.

He began to run along the grassy path, cleared earlier by the whole city. His perception narrowed to the feeling of the grass under his feet, the blood pounding in his ears, the pumping of his arms as he moved his legs faster and faster. Feet thudding on the ground the entire way up the promenade. Rushing, rushing blood through veins that filled his body with life-giving essence. Moving faster.

Time seemed to dilate as seconds grew longer. The stairs loomed before him, tall as the sky and endless, seemingly endless. His foot hit the first and he began to climb infinite amounts of stairs that ended in sky.

He reached the top and threw himself down on the stone slab, flopping over onto his back. He saw the high priest next to him, raising his arm into the air.

In the next instant, the priest’s arm was in the air again, stained with red and a pulsing piece of flesh in his painted fist. He looked up, pleased that the wergild had been paid and his family was safe. Safe from the wrath of the king who had lost a daughter to his uncle’s unassailable desires. Safe from the obsequious attention of the city. Safe again, to live.

Safe. His last thought as the world turned black, as his heart was held above him still beating and slowing as a sacrifice to the gods and penance for crimes he hadn’t committed. Safe. He allowed his eyes to close and the world to fade slowly into eternal dark.


A/N: This comes from a dream that I've had since I was a little girl...the first time that I saw pictures of Teotihuacan when I was in seventh grade history, I almost soiled myself...

Date: 2006-11-11 11:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] authoressnebula.livejournal.com
*shudders* Holy shit. That was just...gah. Very creepy. Very VERY creepy. And I remember having seen pictures, too. It ruined my entire mentality, and I couldn't get rid of the images for so long.

*hugs*

~Nebula

Date: 2006-11-12 01:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilithbint.livejournal.com
fabulous illustration of the period and the reasoning behind the sacrifice, so many think it was just about slaves and punishment.
Excellent use of the prompt!

Date: 2006-11-12 11:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thismaz.livejournal.com
Oh the things people do in the name of honour. Yet the nobility is true and honour is a good motivation for righteous acts. And righteousness is defined by the society it lives in. So he did the honourable thing and the rules meant his sacrifice was good.
I liked this, it was imaginative in a very true way - there was no 21st century judgement to cloud the picture.

Date: 2006-11-13 12:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lit-gal.livejournal.com
Wow. I adore self-sacrifice stories. If Spike or Xander give something up in order to save the other, I'm pretty well guarunteed to love it. And here, this is the ultimate sacrifice. He's just so happy when it happens that I'm not sure how I feel. I'm certainly angry with the uncle who put him in this position, but he was a good man who saved his family, and I'm glad you gave him those scant seconds to bask in that success.

Date: 2006-11-13 02:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] skeeter451.livejournal.com
Wonderful depiction. That it was inspired by a dream makes it more poignant. Great job. Kudos!

--->Susan

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