The Land of Infinite Whispers

The air felt almost frozen in the forest as the Seven Sisters gathered around the hooded man. On his knees, his labored breaths were the only sounds that filled the space around them. With his hands and feet bound, he couldn’t run. Did she really want to do this?

“Is there no other way?” Sister Bethel looked at the sullen faces around her. Each pair of eyes were downcast, locked on the man before them. She shivered from the cold and wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn’t even autumn, yet. With the evil came the cold…

Sister Leiden was the one to speak. “If we don’t do this now, none of us will see tomorrow,” she said. Her grip tightened around the silver blade in her hand. Slivers of moonlight that broke through the canopy above them reflected off its polished surface, casting dancing flickers as she swayed with discomfort.

Bethel closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. The sound of the forest was gone; the place that she once knew to be home was dying. The white of the bark on the trees around them turned dark, and the needles of the pine trees turned brown with rot. Was this the only way?

Leiden offered the knife. “Who will do the honors?” She scanned he faces of her six Sisters. Bethel chewed on her bottom lip. The Creator wouldn’t want this—godly women would never partake in this kind of ritual. After no response, Leiden shook the blade and asked again. “Who will do it? This is the only way to save the Forest.”

Sister Rhea began to sob under her cloak. She rubbed her eyes and said, “This is our fault. Maybe we deserve to die.”

“This is dark magic,” Sister Gwen told her. “The Creator wouldn’t want this.”

“What about the villagers?” Sister Leiden’s voice sounded like cracked stone as she motioned back to the town. “What about all the people who need us? We are children of the gods! We may have strayed from His light before, but this is our chance to regain His favor. Without us, all will be lost. This is the only way.”

The man began to sob under his hood. “Please, please, please…” he whimpered. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

Bethel’s eyes darted between the man and the knife. The man and the knife. The man and the knife. Finally, she stepped forward and snatched it from Leiden’s hand. She felt the cold metal on her palm, still wet from the blessing they’d conducted earlier. Her mind told her to run, to stay way from this dark deed, but instead she knelt over the weeping man and grabbed him by the chin. She pulled his head back to expose his neck and she held the blade high.

“This will protect the Forest,” Leiden said from behind her. “It will protect the Forest, it will protect the village, it will protect the temple. Do it now.”

In one fell swoop, Bethel dragged the blade across the man’s throat and painted the decaying grass red with his blood. His body fell limp moments later, then she dropped him to the ground and stood. She felt the gaze of her Sisters’ all on her as she took in deep breaths. It had to be done, she told herself. For the good of the Forest. What pious woman wouldn’t have done it?

As the procession climbed the hill back to their temple, they witnessed in the moonlight the color return to the land. The grass became green once more, and bark of the trees returned to its ash-white shine. Pine needles grew green, and the wind picked up again. Bethel stopped for a moment and she felt the warm light of the gods shine upon she and her Sisters. The evil was gone from this place, she knew. But where would it go next?