Page 58 of Souls We Rip

“She is human!”

“She won’t make it.”

“Goat was a fool!”

“She should have died!”

And many more. Thus, I held my head straight and descended to the cave I had visited a month ago.

The stairs were as unfriendly as the previous time. But for the occasion of my baptism, the stone was decorated with flower petals of every colour possible.

On the last stair, the petals were a darker shade of purple, an ominous sign not lost on me.

It was my wake.

The Elk brought me two skulls, a stag and a boar. “Choose!” it ordered, its voice travelling over the walls of the cave.

I took the stag’s skull and descended into the Souls’ Pool, freezing water. I ignored the master when he demanded that I undress.

Feeling watched from head to toes, I took a deep breath to mask the shiver that passed through my body. My skin prickled as I placed the skull on my head, fitting it.

The sounds around me dimmed as the bones covered my ears. Through the skull’s eyes, I could only see some of the members lifting their arms in the air, the movement flickering the flames.

I stood still, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Each member of the Order cut their skin deep enough to draw blood. The liquid dripped in the pool, swirls of it surrounding my body.

Gradually, heat engulfed my skin, replacing the coldness of the water. All at once, flames and ice filled my blood, my chest breaking in two. My pulse slowed, the veins tightening in my head. My knees buckled, the water slowly covering my whole body.

I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming.

Everything hurt.

As the Goat Man told me, specks of fur replaced my smooth skin, hooves replaced palms and feet. My senses were amplified, feeling every scent, hearing every sound. I tried to talk, to scream, but there was a lump in my neck.

All the sounds, including the orchestra from outside, were mixing in my head, and I couldn’t discern anything. The only thing that I could focus on was the fragrance of old books and wax with earthy tones.

My skin felt thicker, immune to the icy water. For the amount of time I stood in it, everything heightened.

I felt endless.

I opened my eyes to more vibrant colours, the light from the candles almost blinding me. I closed them again, the air suffocating me.

A hoof touched my antlers and commanded me to get out of the water. Without any warning, my legs started walking. The dress was heavy on my body from the water. My hair was drenched, its heaviness making it difficult to step.

I didn’t dare gaze upon my hooves, not when their clacking was deafening.

My arms went immediately to my intimate parts. As I did that, laughter filled the space. I felt the Order’s cruelty in my bones, their raspy laughs making me harbour hatred.

My skin, or fur, burned with shame. It prickled on each nerve and muscle. I was not the simple peasant anymore.

I was The Stag Woman.

At once, everything went silent.

I didn’t have the courage to open my eyes. If I did, my vision would have been a blur from the tears, and I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

“Ana Lazarov, The Stag Woman, welcome to our humble Order!” The Elk’s voice filled my ears, dispelling every thought. “Embrace your form as we did ours, for centuries. You can open your eyes now, woman.”