TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic content

    Boom boom, dum dum dum dum, boom boom, dum dum dum dum.

    Booooom!

    A horn resounded as soon as the fast drumming ended. Wooo! Woow! Whoaa! The people who were crowded around Armanu, the divine tree at the heart of the forest, stomped their feet as they roared. Tall altars of wood and stone had been erected in front of the temple, and white smoke rose from the bronze incense burners in which incense and herbs were burning.

    The spring festival, which was the biggest event in the Golden Forest, began as the sun climbed high into the sky at noon.

    There were ten slave girls, and one of them was to assist with the ritual every day. They drew lots each morning to decide who was to participate in the ritual that day.

    Ninhur-birga, who was the youngest girl at thirteen, was chosen to participate on the first day. She was from Minotos, just like Eunikè, and she was doted on by all the other girls and even Minnè and Jada because her cheeks were still rosy and plump.

    The girls were already aware that the reason why they had eaten well, slept well, and had worked so hard to decorate themselves was all to participate in ‘The Holy Wedding of Kittu and Armanu,’ a sex ritual.

    Their partners could be the galtir himself, other priests, or kings or other royals from outside the forest —they were all men of noble blood. They could have just one partner, or they could have as many as ten. The spring festival was, at its core, a rite meant to ask Armanu to bless the earth with a fertile harvest, so the sex ritual was the most important event at the festival.

    The other girls already seemed to have steeled themselves —this was, after all, the reason why they had been sold here, and it was something that they could not avoid anyway. The silver lining was that, unlike what happened at other temples, the festival was only ten days long, and they each only had to serve for just one day. They consoled each other by saying that it was worth squeezing their eyes shut and suffering for just one day a year if it meant that they could live the rest of their lives in luxury.

    “I hope I’ll get partnered up with Lord Gishzida if I have to participate in the sex ritual anyway.”

    Everyone fell silent when they heard what Eunikè had mumbled. It was clear to Renier that everyone shared the sentiment.

    This is horrible. I’m losing my mind.

    Renier buried her face into her knees. She detested the fact that all the other slave girls here were thinking along the same lines as her, and she detested herself the most when she felt herself boiling up with hatred for Eunikè.

    She had heard that Lord Gishzida had passed out after getting flogged because of her. Renier would have gladly laid down her life if it meant that she could have taken the flogging in his stead. And yet, in another corner of her heart, she was thinking something so horrible. She couldn’t believe herself.

    Ninhur-birga was tearing up in fright, and Eunikè was patting the younger girl on the back as she tried to comfort her.

    “Don’t be so scared, Birga. It’s not scary at all. Just do what they tell you. You’ll see that it’s nothing really to write home about if you just close your eyes and endure it for a bit. The sooner the better, as they say. It’ll only hurt a little at first, and then it won’t hurt at all. You’ll be okay. And, you never know, right? Maybe you really will get partnered up with Lord Gishzida.”

    Renier covered her ears. She wasn’t able to control her heart at all.

    The shrill notes of a flute sounded all the way from the temple, and then the drums began beating once more —boom, boom, boom. They could faintly make out the sounds of the priests shouting, the drums, the flute, and the music.

    “None of you may leave the lodge during the festival. Your ankles will be cut off if you do. Only the girl who was chosen will participate in the ritual for that day, and after you’re done, you will be praying reverently in a small prayer room inside the temple to the goddess Armanu to ask her to bless the land until the festival is over,”

    Jada commanded sternly.

    The lodge fell silent after Ninhur-birga left on a chariot drawn by white horses. Renier listened carefully to the faint noises coming from outside. Boom boom boom boom, dum dum dum dum, the beating of differently-pitched drums, the legends of the Golden Forest, the long and solemn hymns offered up to Armanu and Kittu, the chorus of the crowd surging like waves, the scream-like singing, the noises of all manner of instruments clamored together —but the beating of the drums and the singing only became more and more disharmonious as time passed.

    The nine girls wondered briefly about what was going on outside and who Ninhur-birga’s partners were before they gave up on the exercise and either napped for laid down on their woolen blankets and ate snacks.

    But not Renier. Her senses had been dreadfully keen all morning, and she didn’t have an appetite either. She felt nauseated like she was seasick, perhaps because the aroma from the ritual incense had somehow wafted all the way to the lodge, and she didn’t feel good.

    Boom boom, dum dum dum dum, boom boom, dum dum dum dum.

    Whoaaa, ooo, whoaaa, ooo!

    Boom boom, dum dum dum dum, boom boom, dum dum dum dum.

    O, Kittu! Ooo, Kittu! Kittu! May you be glorified!

    O, giant warrior of six wings! Envelop us in thy large wings!

    O, blinding father of light! Guard us with thy light and justice!

    O, great Guardian of the Forest! Protect us and the divine tree!

    Everyone chanted the chorus as one —it sounded like an animal’s cry. But something was strange. Renier found her breathing growing arduous and ragged the longer she listened.

    Boom boom, dum dum dum dum, boom boom, dum dum dum dum.

    O, Armanu! Ooo, Armanu! Armanu! Show us thy mercy!

    O, beautiful goddess of the tree, give us thy blessing!

    O, mother of the fertile earth, grant us a bountiful harvest!

    O, she who bears fruit, give us overflowing grains and fruits!

    Is Lord Gishzida there too?

    He probably is, since the lord galtir tasked him with a role in the festival, right? He must be in so much pain if he’s out and about even though he isn’t well.

    Is he one of the priests who’s partnered up with Birga today?

    What if, just if, he’s there when it’s my turn to participate?

    Renier crushed her ear against the wall and grinded her teeth. She became so disillusioned with herself and felt so guilty whenever she thought this that she wanted to die. Crazy Renier. Do you even think he’s able to move properly right now? You know fully well who’s fault that is! And you call yourself human?

    But Renier couldn’t help but think from time to time that if there was no avoiding this, then she desperately hoped that at least her partner would be Lord Gishzida, and every time it made her want to choke herself to death.

    Renier was tormented by this shameful, brazen, and insane feeling, which she could not even put a name to because she could not for the life of her comprehend what it was.

    The girls were unable to glean any information about the sex ritual because Ninhur-birga, the girl who had participated today, had gone straight to the prayer room in the temple instead returning to the lodge.

    The remaining nine girls drew lots again the next morning. Eunikè, who hailed from Minotos, was the second girl to be chosen. She was as beautiful as the goddess Inanna herself when she did up her wheat-colored hair and decorated it lavishly with flowers.

    Eunikè wore a thin veil over her face so the evil galla (spirits), who were envious of brides, could not see her, and she waved back leisurely as she left the lodge.

    The eight remaining girls drew lots again the next morning. The girls began talking less and less.

    Renier squeezed the string she was holding on the morning of the eighth day. Her hands were shaking.

    There was a red mark at the end of the string in her hands.

    ***

    The two remaining girls, Carla and Iona, filled a wooden bathtub with water while Jada and Minnè gave Renier a check-up that morning.

    Renier bathed herself in the wooden bathtub that was filled with crimson flowers, and then she changed into the goddess’ costume. She slipped on the white top with a very deep neckline, slid into the long, fluttering skirt, and fastened the crimson belt that she had been hard at work embroidering during her time in the forest.

    “Your hair is as ugly as ever. You need to look as beautiful as possible today since you’re going to be the physical incarnation of Lady Armanu, the goddess of the divine tree, today. Hide Renier’s hair as much as possible when you dress her up, Carla.”

    Carla tried her best to decorate Renier’s hair, which was barely a hand’s width long, at first, but then she gave up and wrapped several layers of thin linen cloth over Renier’s head and wrapped a headband embroidered with gold stiches around it, and then she made a large and gorgeous flower crown and laid it on Renier’s head.

    Iona powdered Renier’s face with the white powder from crushed flower seeds. She dabbed a towel with a little bit of olive oil and massaged it into Renier’s face and set a fine layer of the powder on top. Then, she also went over Renier’s eyebrows using dark eyebrow paint made from a mix of charcoal from the brazier, fine red clay, and oil.

    “Why are you trembling so much? Ninhur-birga went to the festival with her head held high, and she’s even younger than you. Everything will be okay. You only have to bear with it for a day,”

    Iona whispered to Renier, who had been quivering nonstop ever since before she had bathed all the way until her makeup was done.

    “You’re so pretty, Renier. You’re much prettier than even Big Sis Eunikè now that you’re wearing makeup. I bet even the goddesses Lady Inanna and Lady Armanu weren’t as pretty as you,”

    Carla whispered to Renier too as she patted Renier’s back.

    The girls had ostracized Renier for a while at first, and they had even envied her when there had been rumors about how she was favored by Lord Gishzida going around, but they started pitying her after she’d been locked up in the warehouse, and nothing else mattered to them anymore. They had realized anew that she was a pitiful slave, just like them, now that the festival was here and they were all getting dragged to the ritual to be forced to have sex with men.

    “Hmm. You’re actually quite pretty now that I’m seeing you all dressed up.”

    Even Jada, who did not normally give out compliments, smiled contentedly when she lifted up Renier’s veil to take a peek at the girl’s face.

    Renier was quivering from head to toe as she stepped past the fence. The chariot, decorated with gorgeous flowers, was waiting for her. The snow-white horses raised their heads and neighed excitedly. Renier was trembling so badly that two priests had to help her climb inside the wagon.

    The round wooden wheels clattered as they rolled. Renier grew more and more nauseated every time the wagon shook.

    The Golden Forest didn’t look golden at all even under broad daylight. The flowers that were in full bloom everywhere the eye could see were the color of blood, and the trunks of the densely packed trees were frighteningly dark. Renier felt like each tree she passed by was wriggling their branches as they pointed their fingers at her or narrowing their eyes as they leered at her. Renier squeezed her eyes shut.

    It’s just so strange. Am I losing my mind?

    Countess voices inside her stomach were screaming at her to flee the forest at once.

    No, I hate this, I don’t want to go! I’d rather die!

    Jump off the wagon right now and run away! It’s not too late yet!

    But Renier endured the voices through gritted teeth. She recalled the pity that she had heard in Lord Gishzida’s voice.

    — You may detest the idea of having intercourse with a man, but is it really worth losing your life over?

    Renier shook her head vigorously. I’m throwing a tantrum. I mustn’t console myself for having these crazy thoughts, and I mustn’t let them grow either. I have to suppress them with everything I have until they disappear completely, she thought to herself repeatedly as she grimaced.

    I just need to endure it. It’s just a day. Just today. Just one day.

    People were gathered in front of the temple like a cloud. Most of them adult priests, who were blonde and were wearing white clothes, but Renier could also see a lot of people with black, brown, and red hair who were wearing colorful clothes —they were probably believers from outside the forest.

    The outsiders were wearing crimson or purple seven-layered kanaukes and had jeweled accessories hanging from their necks and waists. Their hair and beards were curled and adorned, and some of them were even wearing lavish bands across their foreheads. They looked like they were either kings, royals, high-ranking nobles, or famed warriors.

    Renier tilted her head to the side. She’d known that outsiders were coming for the festival, but it didn’t make sense to her that so many people from such high stations had all gathered here together.

    There area was filled with an acrid smell. There were bronze incense burners and furnaces set up around the altar every so often, and clouds of white smoke were rising up from them.

    Everyone’s facial expressions looked strange. Some people’s eyes looked half-unfocused, and others were staggering as they laughed. Some people were dancing, and others were singing so loudly that the veins in their neck were popping out.

    The other slave girls had hoped that Lord Gishzida would be their partner for the sex ritual, and Renier had done everything in her power to censure herself and not share their sentiments, but seeing so many people right before her eyes made her think that she’d rather die than lay with Lord Gishzida while everyone was watching.

    Please don’t let him be here. Please don’t let him watch what happens to me.

    But even those thought didn’t last very long. Her terror grow so fierce that she could no longer keep it in check as she approached the altar. Minnè and Jada had not told her exactly how the ritual would proceed or how many men she would need to have sex with. Renier was shaking uncontrollably.

    “This way, Armanu.”

    “This is your wedding ceremony with Kittu. Please smile, Armanu.”

    The priests, who were suddenly speaking politely to Renier, were smiling stiffly. The two priests practically dragged her up the altar. Whoaaa! Whoaaa! The priests and the people cheered so loudly with every step up to the altar Renier took that she thought her eardrums might burst.

    Armanu, Armanu, o divine tree of the Golden Forest! O mother of the harvest!

    Come to this place! Come here once more!

    Kittu, Kittu, o Kittu of Six Wings! O strong-armed father!

    Come to this place! Come here once more!

    The galtir was wearing a long, white habit and a golden crown as he waited atop the altar. The altar looked like it had been drenched with blood because of all the crimson flowers that had been scattered over it. Renier smiled emptily when she realized that her partner for the sex ritual was to be the galtir.

    But that was only obvious. This was supposed to be a reenactment of Kittu’s and Armanu’s wedding ceremony, so it was only natural that the galtir, who was Kittu’s descendant and the Guardian of the Forest, and she, who was dressed up as Armanu today, were to play the starring roles.

    She could faintly see the blue sky through her veil as she laid down on top of the soft woolen blanket that had been laid over the altar. It felt so strange to her that the sky was still so blue even though dozens, hundreds of people were surrounding her and shouting in a crazed frenzy, and it sent a chill down her spine.

    Run away! It’s still not too late yet! Hurry up and run away!

    — You may detest the idea of having intercourse with a man, but is it really worth losing your life over?

    Two voices were battling inside her heart. But she knew how things would end if she tried to run away. She was surrounded on all sides by at least a thousand priests and hundreds, thousands of other people, and she would surely die like a dog if she tried to flee.

    I should’ve run a long time ago if I wanted to run away.

    It’s still not too late yet, you idiot! Please!

    Renier clenched her teeth together and shook her head. She wasn’t going to run today. She couldn’t run today. Not today. Not today.

    It was getting harder for her to think deeply. She was dizzy, and it felt like the world was spinning around her even though she was laying down. Maybe the incense is getting to me. She couldn’t decide if she should do her best to stay in her right mind, or whether it would be better if she allowed herself to get intoxicated by the fumes and forget everything that was about to happen to her.

    Her arms were tied in front of her. She felt like a tree that was overgrown to a terrifying extent was peering down at her penetratingly when the veil that had been covering her face was moved away. The sounds of people shouting grew fainter, and the blue sky was covered by something white. Renier’s lips twisted into a smile when a sudden thought crossed her mind.

    What would happen if they found out that I actually don’t have any right to be here right now?

    Renier had not begun menstruating yet. She had only lied about having her first period because she had wanted to spare Gishzida from his sentence of flogging and two years of house arrest.

    Renier had desperately recalled everything that Eunikè and Carla had taught her as she caught a mole in the warehouse, drew its blood, and smeared the blood all over her white dress. She could get killed on the spot of people found out that she was participating in the ritual even though she had no right to do so, but sparing Gishzida from his punishment had been more important to her at the time.

    Everything was so pointless now that I think about it.

    The galtir’s white beard was hanging from his face, and his eyes were red as if he was high from the incense. The people below the altar shouted like a surging wave when he pulled down the garment that had been covering Renier’s shoulders as she lay on the altar.

    The burning sunlight touched her pale and exposed chest. Then, the galtir took a red-hot iron brand from the brazier and slowly walked closer.

    Renier heard him mutter,

    “I now brand this dweller of the forest with the sacred symbol of the tree, and she will now be one with the holy Armanu.”

    The galtir, who was probably high from the incense, repeatedly mumbled something incomprehensible that sounded like a prayer as he approached Renier and stooped over.

    “Argh, argh!”

    Agony erupted from the left side of Renier’s chest. And finally, finally, she was branded as a slave of the forest’s temple.

    Female slaves were typically branded on their shoulder, but here, they were branded close to their heart on the left side of their chest. It was so hot and it hurt so much that Renier nearly passed out. She glowered furiously so no tears would spill from her eyes. At the very least, she did not want to cry in such an unseemly manner while she was here.

    Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom.

    Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum.

    The priests beneath the altar brandished their drumsticks. Small and large drums urged the ritual to continue. The galtir lifted up Renier’s skirt and spread open her legs before he climbed over her, and Renier squeezed her eyes shut.

    His bare flesh was touching the lower half of her body. It felt horrible, like snakes were crawling up her frame. The beating of the drums became faster as the galtir began moving back and forth, and the people’s screaming became frantic and fanatical. Armanu! Kittu! Armanu! Kittu! Grant us your blessing!

    Renier opened her eyes. Something was off. She squinted and looked down only to find that the galtir’s features were distorted as he only moved his body mechanically back and forth with his head down. Minnè and Jada, who were assisting in the ritual with their backs to the crowd, looked distressed. Then, Minnè quietly whispered,

    “Move your body.”

    “……What?”

    “The galtir isn’t in good condition because he’s been performing the ritual for a week straight. Move your body. Move your waist and legs at the same time the galtir moves.”

    “No one will notice since everyone else will begin participating in the sex ritual soon enough anyway. Just move!”

    Gods. Renier opened her eyes wide and looked up at the man with the white beard who was scowling on top of her.

    She wasn’t alone in her deceit. The spring festival was an event meant to pray for a bountiful harvest though Armanu’s and Kittu’s union, but one party was so old and spent that he no longer had any seed to give, whereas the other was a barren field who hadn’t even begun menstruating yet.

    It was laughable. Did Big Sis Eunikè or the other girls who went first do something so messed up too? Are they making fun of the galtir and this wedding ceremony instead of praying in the temple’s prayer room like they’re supposed to?

    Renier turned her head and looked down the altar. It was already absolute madness down there. Boom boom dum dum dum dum, boom boom dum dum dum dum. Men and women began to mingle amongst the backdrop of the mind-numbing drums.

    The people, who had been singing and dancing before, were now pairing up, dancing while holding hands, and kissing. A white cloud seemed to have settled down over the plaza because the smoke was getting thicker, and it made the people move more lasciviously and explicitly.

    The noble Celestials and the believers were now pairing up in twos and running their hands over each other’s bodies. Then, they either began mingling their bodies right there below the altar, or they moved to an open space beneath a tree to unclothe and climb up on top of each other’s bodies like snakes with no hesitation whatsoever.

    Renier stared blankly at the madness that was unfolding beneath the altar.

    So this was what the Golden Forest’s festival really was. It was a large orgy between the priests and priestesses and the believers from outside that lasted ten days.

    They didn’t seem embarrassed at all, either because they believed they were a part of the ritual or because they were too high on incense, as they lifted their skirts and had sex in broad daylight. Moist breaths began mixing into the singing and all the other noise. Celestial ishibs and nugigs, noble kings of the mudpeople, royals, nobles, gallant warriors —they all seemed like mere animals.

    Renier began cackling. Oh, I get it. I get it now. I finally get why the priests don’t get married or start families and live alone, and why they all raise their children together as a group.

    It was because of this sex ritual. What meaning was there in marriage when the priests did this for ten days straight year after year?

    Still, Renier could not believe that the sex ritual was being carried out between Celestials and the people from outside too. Why would the noble Celestials do this with the mudpeople they scorned so much?

    Renier pondered blankly as she watched the orgy unfolding below, and then she began giggling.

    She’d figured it out. She understood all too well why men of high stations from outside had all gathered here for the festival. They wanted to fill the priestesses with their seed through this ritual, and they hoped that any children that resulted would be born as Celestials themselves.

    This was how the Golden Forest pulled people of power from the outside over to their side. It would be impossible for outside kings or royalty to not hope that their children might be born as Celestials, to not hope that their own son or brother may become the next Guardian of the Forest. It was all so simple when she actually thought about it that it seemed absurd.

    Renier understood why the Golden Forest was doing this too. The Golden Forest did not have its own military force, and there were only about a thousand priests here at most. The Golden Forest needed to forge relationships with people of power outside through any means possible because there were not enough priests to manage and defend the vast forest and the fertile Kusig Plains.

    The wedding ceremony of Armanu and Kittu? A blessed sex ritual? A ritual to pray for a bountiful harvest?

    ……How ridiculous.

    Lord Gishzida might also be in the crowd somewhere, doing something like that with some priestess I haven’t even met before. He must’ve done this every year. I was hoping desperately that my partner for the sex ritual would be Lord Gishzida without knowing any better, and I’m so disgusted, revolted, and disappointed in myself that I can’t help but shudder.

    Ha, ha, hahahaha. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes once more. It was all just so laughable.

    The sex ritual was shorter than Renier had anticipated. The two priestesses were helping Renier down the altar when she suddenly saw something strange below the stairs.

    Huh? Aren’t those the ribbon and flowers that I put in Eunikè’s hair?

    ……Why’re they on the floor?

    Renier snapped her mouth shut. A chill seemed to stab her in the back as it crawled down her spine.

    She kept stealing glances at the floor to make sure that she was seeing correctly. But they were undoubtedly the things that she had personally put in Eunikè’s hair. What she couldn’t figure out, however, was what the ribbon and flowers were doing on the floor, what the spots of red patches were, why there was a coil of brown hair nearby, and what the crimson lump of something attached to the coil of hair was.

    Renier opened her eyes wide. A certain crystal-clear premonition crawled up her spine. She felt like she had suddenly been doused in icy water. She quickly scanned the floor out of the corner of her eye.

    I knew it!

    Renier gritted her teeth. The knots, scraps of cloth, flowers, and hair ties that the other seven girls before her had been wearing, the crimson stains dying them, the spots of red patches around her, and the way the soil looked darker here than elsewhere!

    Renier had finally pieced together exactly what those patches were.

    Oh gods!

    The plaza reeked with the stench of blood. The pungent incense and herbal smoke had been meant to hide the stench of blood.

    Why had she only realized this now? Renier had herded sheep and hunted in the fields for several years now, so she was familiar with the scent of blood. She would never mistake its muggy and fishy stench with anything else. Especially since the smell only grew stronger immediately after it rained.

    I would’ve known instantly if only it weren’t for the incense!

    Renier had thought that she had only been seized with terror these last few days because of how averse she was about the idea of participating in the sex ritual, but there had evidently been more to it. It was only now that she finally understood why the voice inside her had been screaming at her so ardently to run away.

    The priests who were beating the drums began walking closer to her. The galtir was standing at the forefront. Renier could faintly see a blackish fog coiling around them. And she finally figured out what exactly the heavy object hidden inside the galtir’s sleeve was.

    The seven slave girls who had participated in the ritual before Renier were not praying inside the temple’s prayer room. Renier finally spotted the crimson and bloody piece of bone at the bottom of the wagon. It was a scarily fresh crimson in color because it hadn’t had the chance to oxidize yet.

    The slave girls had been forced to offer their flesh and blood to the Golden Forest’s soil, or perhaps even to the priests and the believers, in the cruelest and most horrific way possible. Renier spun her body to the side and pushed Minnè and Jada away as soon as she saw the galtir’s hand reach inside his long sleeve.

    “Let go! Let go of me!”

    “Kyaah! R-Renier!”

    Renier broke free of Minnè’s and Jada’s grasp and charged directly at the galtir as he was pulling something out from his sleeve.