The Goblin Nation 83 The Vidat Child Part 1

It was a cold summer night in the Zhertva tribe. The tribe traversed the vast empty desert under the blazing sun until they reached a small oasis where they set up their large tents and fortified walls. They made a small stable for their camels, donkeys, and goats to rest and a large bonfire in the middle of their camp. Next to the bonfire was a small table, and on it were thirteen dolls wearing white gowns. These dolls represent the thirteen Vidat candidates.

Cyrus was watching the adults set up the display while in the shadows. They held each doll with great care, as to not damage them. The dolls were pretty, but Cyrus did not care for any of them except for one, her doll. The doll had a beautiful brown hair braided at the back of its head and s.h.i.+ny brown b.u.t.tons as eyes. She wanted to get a closer look at her doll, but the adults were gathered around the table, preparing for the final exam and festival to celebrate the arrival of the Vidat.

Suddenly, white smoke appeared across the small lake. A large red tent far away from the tribe sat at the opposite side of the oasis. The most powerful priest in the dessert lived inside that tent, and she never leaves it unless for emergencies. When they migrate, the priest will use her magic to make the tent float, and it would be pulled camels. The only other time the adults talk to her was when white smoke rises behind the tent. The adults that were preparing for the festivities dropped everything they were doing and left. Now the area was empty, and only Cyrus remained. Her tail stood up in the excitement with the tip curling inward. The small girl ran across towards the table and took her doll.

The doll was soft, and its white gown looked pure and pristine compared to her rainbow patterned dress. It was simple yet elegant, and Cyrus loved it. She walked towards the stable to show their family goat the doll, but a group of old men was there, feeding the animals. She hid behind a palm and listened to the men's conversation. "I hope the next Vidat is a cute girl."

"Why is that?" One of them laughed.

"So we can have fun with her before the sacrifice. I'd like those cute little lips to wrap around the family jewels if you know what I'm saying!"

"You pervert!"

"I do admit, watching them naked and afraid brings a different kind of thrill."

"I just wish we didn't have to kill the Vidat. It really brings the mood down afterward." Cyrus's hair stood up, and her tail pointed at the sky.

"You idiots! What if one of the kids hear you."

"It's past their curfew. No one besides us is here." While the men continued their conversation, Cyrus ran back to the table and returned her doll. She walked to her family tent with her mind occupied by the conversation between the old men. Only the moon and stars were lighting her path, guiding her every step while her mind drifts away. Was it true that they will kill the Vidat? What will they do to the poor girl chosen? These questions continued to swirl inside her head, and before she realized it, she was in front of her tent with an angry woman standing in front of its entrance. It was her mother, and she was not pleased to see her daughter walking around past the curfew.

"What are you doing outside this late," She said while pointing at the night sky. Her tail wobbled back and forth, and her ears pointed behind her.

"Sorry, mama," Cyrus said in the sincerest way possible while showing her sad puppy eyes.

Her mother tried to maintain her posture, but she could not help but accept her daughter's apology, for she is far too cute, "Oh, I forgive you, my love." She bent down and embraced Cyrus.

Cyrus entered the tent and was met with Sam holding a white gown with beautiful floral embroidery on its chest. "What do you think, Cyrus? Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes, beautiful."

"Oh, I can't wait to see you in this gown walking down the aisle to sit on your chair, looking over the tribe like a chief. I'm so excited!"

"Haha." Cyrus gave a halfhearted laugh, "Yeah, me too."

"If only we can keep it, but we have to burn it once the festival is over because only the Vidat can wear it."

"Oh!" Cyrus realized she was just a candidate, and there's no way she will become the next Vidat. "Yeah too bad I won't be able to keep the dress."

"Who knows?" Their mother interjected, "Maybe you are the Vidat. Then you can wear the gown forever."

"Yeah!" Sam said with excitement. "Imagine that my sister is the Vidat! All the kids are going to be jealous for sure." Sam grabbed her sister's hands, "You have to do your best and become the Vidat. Ok?"

"Ok," Cyrus whispered under her breath.

Later that night, Cyrus laid on her bed, staring at the roof. She wrapped her arms around her chest while sweat dripping down from her forehead to her ears. Cyrus could not help but worry about tomorrow. If she becomes the Vidat, it's over for her. She wanted to reject it, but she was scared. Will her mother and sister believe her, if she tells them what the adults planned to do with the Vidat. Then a more horrible thought crossed her mind. What if her mother knows?

Cyrus fell into darkness, and not even the moon's light could reach her. If her parents knew what will happen, then they were raising her like cattle for slaughter. If she pa.s.ses the test, she will be taken away from her home, never to seen again. Cyrus' heartbeat got faster and faster the more she dwells in her thoughts until finally, unable to dig out from her despair, she screamed at the night sky.

But no one heard her. She placed her hands over her mouth while she cried under the night sky. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep. She woke on a beautiful, bright morning. She got up and took her bath. Cyrus' dad rubbed her body spotless, and her sister helped her get dressed.

Her mother waited for her outside the tent. They walked down an aisle with white archers over them, adorned with colorful flowers. When she reached the podium behind the tables of dolls, the chief handed her a small bouquet of white flowers. Then her mother carried her to their family standing next to a white chair.

Cyrus sat, waiting for the other children to get on their sit. Then finally, the priest walked out of her tent. She took one step on the lake and continued walking on top of the water. Once she reached the other side, she walked to the podium and delivered her speech.

"Wow, her dress is beautiful." Her mother said in a sarcastic tone, but Cyrus could not see the dress or the priest. All she could see was a giant ball of light so bright it could burn her eyes. The dazzling light was beautiful, but she could barely look at it. Cyrus looked around and saw the people were able to look at the priest, although some of them had odd expressions, as if in disgust. Cyrus tried to look back, but the light was so intense it was as if it was scorching her eyes out from her face. It was like staring directly at the sun. "What's wrong, love?" Her mother asked, "Can't you see?"

Cyrus remembered last night how the old men were joking about having fun with the Vidat before killing her. And the possibility of her parents raising her to be killed. She doesn't know what Vidat is, but if everyone can look at the priest but her, then it was over for her. "No, mom, I can see." Cyrus turned her head towards the priest and kept her eyes open.

She endured the light burning her pupils. She kept her posture straight while the eyes burn ablaze. Her mother, seeing her daughter able to look at the priest, was satisfied, and did not ask more questions. "Her dress is beautiful but too bad she looks so ugly tha," Before Sam could finish, their mother covered her mouth.

"Now, she is not ugly. And you should not be judging people like that."

After the speech, the parents walked into the Chief's tent. There they waited while their children entered another tent where the priest and her attendees will test them. Cyrus waited outside for her turn. After the tenth child walked out of the tent with his hands over his mouth, Cyrus was called by the attendee to enter the tent. Before entering, She turned around and saw the kid pretending to puke in front of the other children.

Cyrus entered the room and saw the priest sitting across from her. It was dark, or it should have been, but the light coming from the priest lit the room. Cyrus could not see any shadows in the presence of the priest. Four other women sat next to her while the attendees stood behind them. "Sit," The priest said. Cyrus sat on the ground, looked at the wall behind the priest to avoid the harsh rays. But it was not enough to save her eyes from feeling the blistering pain.

"This is going to be easy, ok?" The priest said. Cyrus' tail stood parallel to her body. "I'm going to ask you simple questions, and I don't want to hear any other comments, I just want a clear answer. Got it?" She yelled in frustration. One of the women rubbed her back calm the priest down.

"Yes, your greatness."

"What is the complexion of my skin?"

"Complexion?"

"Yes. What is the color of my skin?"

Cyrus could not even see her figure, let alone the color of her skin, but she could guess. She rarely leaves her tent, so she must be pale, unlike the rest of the tribe. But she also sounded slightly angry. "Um, you have lighter skin and redder too." The women around her nodded at one another.

"Correct," When Cyrus heard that word, her body relaxed, and she gave out a sigh of relief. But it wasn't over yet. "Next is my nose. Could you describe it for me?" Cyrus' body froze. She had no idea how to describe her nose. Is it large, or is it small? Should she say it's sharp or broad? Cyrus could not find an answer. "What's wrong? I'm waiting for you to describe my nose." Then the priest smiled, "Unless, you can't see my nose."

"No, I can see your nose, its just,"

"It's just what? Don't be scared, just tell me, love. There are no wrong answers." The priest said softly.

Cyrus recalled her sister's comment and the kid that pretended to barf in front of the others. "It's just that," Cyrus pulled her eyes away from the wall and stared at the overbearing light. "Your ugly face is distracting me." She whispered.

"Get out!" The priest stood up, waving her hands while the other women held her down. The attendees carried Cyrus out of the tent. Once outside, Cyrus ran until she tripped on the ground. The other candidates laughed while she lay on the sand, crying. But her tears were not of sadness, but of happiness. She survived, and that's all that matters.