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out in unison. Sila also shouted as loud as she could.

  “Then give your holy light to the stones and take each other’s hands.”

  The women spread out and put their lamps in a big circle before the stones. Sila’s heart drummed like crazy while she waited for her mother to return. When she returned, Sila grabbed her hand and tried to meet her eyes, but her mother’s gaze was fixed on her eldest daughter. A priestess grabbed Sila’s other hand.

  Ava looked around the circle approvingly, after which she initiated the song of the Cireara. Her voice was shaky when she sang the first notes, but grew stronger and steadier as the song progressed. The priestess that had distributed the oil, started to play a soft rhythm on the drum. Ava started to dance. Her dress twirled elegantly around her legs and she made complicated patterns with her hands. The beating of the drum intensified. The priestesses would take over the song while the Cireara would subject Ava to her final test. Sila had studied hard to learn the song, as it was in the ancient language, but she had learned the meaning of every word.

  The day was dark

  Hope imprisoned in an unknown song

  Till the Goddess showed us

  The way of faith and strength

  The stones as a sign

  Of Her unbreakable promise

  Never may they fall

  Never may damage be done

  Never may their power be broken

  Cireara, hear my call

  Accept my aid

  My embrace will never slacken

  My love will never die

  Let me go to your midst

  Envelop me with the eternal song of the stone

  Ava danced quicker and quicker. Sila felt the rhythm of the drum deep within her. The sound of weapons clashing and the screams of battle vanished into the distance until all she experienced was the song. Suddenly Ava screamed and fell on the ground.

  “Ava!” cried Sila.

  Her mother squeezed her hand hard as a sign that she had to keep her mouth shut. Ava lifted her head and her eyes met those of Sila. Sila needed all her self-control to not step backwards out of the circle. Ava’s eyes were a shiny purple. The white, the iris, the pupil, they had all vanished. Her purple eyes whirled like clouds in a thunderous sky. Ava’s mouth was twisted in a strange grimace. She averted her gaze and pushed herself up stiffly. The priestesses resumed the song and Sila sang along as loud as she could.

  Ava wandered back and forth. The grimace on her face had disappeared; all that was left was her pain. Her eyes were closed and blindly she touched the priestesses. They supported her and helped her move along the circle. Ava stumbled on, her body bent over and her arms tightly around her chest. She reached Sila. Sila moved her arms forward and pulled the arms of her mother and the priestess forward as well with that gesture. She tried to hug her big sister as hard as she could.

  “You can do this Ava” she whispered. “We are here for you. You can do this.”

  Ava stumbled on and Sila did not know if she had heard her. When she had followed the full circle, she crawled to the middle and screamed out her pain. The drum stopped. Tears came to Sila’s eyes. What were the Cireara doing to her sister? Why did they hurt her so much? Ava’s movements suddenly stopped and she lay there quietly. The women held their breath.

  Sila jumped when a male voice broke the silence. “Orok, come! We cannot keep them back anymore. Hurry! ” The fight was not going well, they needed her father. Footsteps made clear that her father left. Ava still lay motionless on the ground.

  The waiting seemed to last forever. Ava had to get up herself, they could not intervene. Screams and the sound of weapons that met in full force came closer. Sila’s hands were moist and almost slid out of the hand of the priestess and her mother. The high priestess stepped forward hesitantly. Sila wanted to scream at her that she had to wait, that Ava would get up herself. But at that moment Ava raised her head and looked around the circle. Her eyes looked normal again and she spoke in her own familiar voice. “I have been accepted,” she said trembling. “The Cireara will take me to their midst.”

  A sigh of relief vibrated through the circle. The women let go of each other’s hands and smiled. The high priestess walked forward and hugged Ava, after which she addressed the group. “The yellow haired are getting closer, we have to hurry. Take your places for the final part of the ritual.”

  Ava was brought to her stone. Sila thought it was the most beautiful stone in the circle. The rain, snow, ice and wind had made the surface erratic. If you looked closely you could see all kinds of figures in it, such as a brave warrior on a horse and a snake with his jaws wide open. With Ava as its protector, the stone would never be harmed by the elements again. It would keep its current form forever. Ava leaned against the stone, her arms and legs spread out wide. Two priestesses bound a rope around her chest and waist to prevent that she would fall forward when the final part of the ritual was completed. The others formed half a circle around her and started to chant a soft, soothing melody.

  The high priestess took the dagger that one of the priestesses brought to her. It was the first time that Sila saw the dagger up close. The stone blade was sharper than any other blade in the village. It was made from a shiny, black stone that was given to them by the Goddess. The hilt was wrapped in black leather that was engraved with the names of all the Cireara. Ava’s name would also be added.

  The chanting increased in intensity. The high priestess raised up the dagger. Ava’s eyes searched the group of women restlessly, until she found her mother and Sila. One more time Sila smiled her big sister smile. The arm of the high priestess moved further backward.

  “Go, my daughter, fulfill this holy duty,” she said. She trusted the knife forward. Pain flashed in Ava’s eyes and convulsions went through her body. Blood streamed from her mouth. Sila diverted her eyes. She could no longer hold back the tears.

  Sila looked up when the screams of brutal men sounded close. Soldiers with dirty clothes and yellow hairs that were just visible under their big helmets ran towards them. The orange light from the burning stones reflected in the shiny surfaces of their knives and axes. Some of the women started to scream. The calm voice of the high priestess arose above all the screams. “Stay calm. Protect Ava. Bring her body to safety, it cannot be disgraced.”

  Her mother grabbed Sila’s hand and pulled her towards the stone. Priestesses were already cutting the ropes that bound Ava to the stone. A bloodcurdling scream sounded behind Sila. She spun around and saw the girl who banged the drum fall backward. An axe was stuck in her chest. Transfixed, Sila stood there and saw how the yellow haired brute pulled the axe from the girl’s body and swung the weapon around fiercely. Women started to run. They pushed against Sila from all sides and her hand slid out of her mother’s.

  “Sila!” her mother called out.

  Sila looked around, but all she saw were women running. “Mam, where are you?” She caught a glimpse of her mother’s five braids but as soon as she tried to get there, she was pushed over. Around her dozens of men started to attack the priestesses.

  “Mam!” she screamed as loud as she could but her voice was nothing more than a whisper in a raging storm.

  Two hands grabbed her and pulled her up. “Stay with me,” someone said in her ear. It was the voice of the high priestess.

  Fara took a wooden figure from her pouch. It had the form of a lightning bolt and was painted white. It had to be a Natukra, a statue that was filled with the power of nature through rituals of years past. The high priestess whispered words that Sila could not understand. A blinding light spread out. It was so bright that Sila had to close her eyes.

  “Run!” The voice of the high priestess was clearly audible above the noise. “Run,” she cried again. The yellow haired men grunted as they covered their eyes against the blinding light. Running priestesses bumped into Sila and almost knocked her over again. As the light of the Natukra faded, the sound of axes hitting stones grew louder. In the distance a familiar sound
was audible. It was the call of the horned God. The men were coming.

  “Run,” said the high priestess and she pushed Sila in the direction of the village. In the fading light she saw how her father and his men attacked the yellow haired. But she also saw big chunks of stone falling off the standing stones as the axes hit them. That was not possible! Those stones were protected by the Cireara.

  “Go!” yelled the high priestess in her ear. Sila started to run towards the light of the village.

  She tripped when pain seer through her head. She pushed her hands against her temples but was again overtaken by pain. Desperate screams sounded next to her. Sila looked around but there was no one there. She covered her ears with her hands and cringed at the next stabbing of pain. The screams became louder. She realized that the screams did not come from around her but sounded inside her head. She moaned. The pain and the sorrow were so intense. What was happening to her?

  “Sila!” The scream took her breath away and echoed in her head. Images forced themselves on her. She saw a yellow haired with an axe and a shiny, purple wing. The axe hit the stone just below the purple wing and the stone snake lost its head.

  “Ava!” Sila called. The young girl pushed herself upward and ran back to the stones. It was Ava that called her so desperately, she had to help her. The high priestess intercepted her. Her blue gown was stained with