SERA
"Witch!" they hissed as I walked past, their spittle almost falling on me. "The devil's daughter," the women mocked, making the sign of the cross.
I kept my nose up in the air as I hurried down the path that led to the venue of the selection. I'm Sera, an eighteen-year-old maiden. Ten years ago, I was the beloved princess of my kingdom, but all that vanished when my parents died, and the villagers sent me to live with my aunt's family.
Unlike the people of my kingdom and the new kingdom I entered, I have long white hair, which seemed more silver whenever the sun shone on it. My eyes didn't help matters, round-shaped purple eyes that always change colour with my mood.
Two weeks after I joined my aunt, her family died mysteriously, leading the villagers to tag me as a witch. They would have sent me away had I not been a kid then. That was why they let me be, shunning me and preventing any contact between me and their children.
I remained alone throughout the years, in a hut next to the forbidden Forest. They claimed monsters and unimaginable creatures had settled there. Sending me to the forest was their way of leading me to my death without staining their hands with blood.
But I survived. Funny enough, I made friends with the beasts of the forests. That was why all of them started calling me the devil's daughter, and the name stuck.
I hurried down the path, noting how they created space for me as I walked by, their hisses accompanying my steps. I paid no heed to them as I walked past. You could say I was immune to everything, and I was.
At the venue, I joined the villagers as we watched the eldest man step up to the podium. In his hand was a box filled with the names of the maidens in our village.
Once every two years, a maiden is delivered up the dark hills as a sacrifice to the devil who rescued the village. There was a rumour that the devil was a beast who devoured the hearts of the maids delivered to him because no one had ever heard from any of the women sent up there. It didn't help matters that his Mountain was always filled with magic smoke.
I had been patiently waiting for this day. At eighteen, I could finally slip my name into the box, waiting for the call.
One would now wonder why I was eager to go up the mountain, knowing how dangerous it was. Unlike the others, I wasn't scared of death. I feared living. I couldn't count how many times I had tried to take my life, only to wake up after that. I tried different means, but none of them seemed to work. It was as if death didn't wish to take me. No one wanted me. I was an outcast, shunned by humans and death.
That was why I wanted to go up there. At least having my heart eaten would mean death, right? Something I was looking forward to.
There were murmurs as the women next to me looked my way, murmuring to themselves as they pointed. I could tell what they were discussing. Had it not been the rule of the village to always go through the box, they would have bundled me up long ago and sent me up the mountain, wasting no time.
The young girls stood huddled closer, sniffing as they prayed not to be picked. I was the only one who wished to hear my name.
"People of the Scarlet town!" The elder called out, bringing our attention to him. He was putting on the customary attire of the elders, a red robe with a black belt wrapped around it. He was bald, not naturally so. It was a law that all the elders of the kingdom must have their hair shaven.
If you think you had it all bad, just imagine a life without your pretty hair.
I touched my silky hair. Irrespective of all I'd heard about my hair and how awful it was, I still loved it. It was mine, and I would never cut it, nor dye the colour. I let it grow out just to spite the villagers.
"We are gathered here once more, on this sad day of the gods, to choose a bride for our demon Lord!" He spoke, his voice booming.
There weren't any cheers, which wasn't like the people. I could feel the pressure of their sadness weighing me down.
He cleared his throat before he resumed. "In this box are the names of our daughters. 20 maids, but only one will be taken to the demon lord!"
Though his tone sounded as commanding as it had always been, you could tell he wasn't happy. It wasn't difficult to know why. This year, his first daughter was among the maids. Daddy dearest was sad for his daughter.
Had I not been eager to be chosen, I would have wished his daughter to be the one picked. This way, he would grieve until his eyes sank deep into his balls.
He placed the box on the table kept for such a purpose. Inhaling sharply, he put his hand in the trunk and pulled out a piece of paper.
My heart skipped as I observed him. My palms felt sweaty, and it seemed like my heart was about to leap out of my chest.
I watched him like the others as he opened the paper. The expression in his eyes when he saw the name spoke it all. His daughter's name was the one he got.
"Mildred!"
A disappointed frown marred my features as my gaze went towards the lucky girl, lucky because I wanted my name to be picked.
A scream tore from his daughter's throat as she threw herself on the ground, wailing.
The women all broke into tears as the girl continued wailing. No amount of consoling from the other girls could stop her. She was screaming, moaning her ill fate.
I watched them for a short while before I cleared my throat.
"I will go in her stead!" I yelled out, stepping forward as they made way for me.