A Prisoner’s Guide to Making Wishes

A wedding wasn’t the place for love; it was a caging ceremony.

That’s what Sade’s parents had told her once she was old enough to notice they’d never married. 

She might have remembered it as a nice sentiment, almost romantic, if her parents had been the happy sort. Instead, in the brief time she’d known them, Sade learned that no vows needed to exchange for love to form a cage. It was an enduring lesson, outlasting her parents, lingering through her years in the orphanage - persisting still, when they kicked her out.

Sade didn’t think of her early days much anymore. It made sense that she couldn’t help it today. Her parents’ words rang truer now, held before an altar as the entire village awaited Sade’s groom.

The guard gripping her forearm didn’t seem to mind the blood, digging deeper into the fresh incision there. It hurt. The ache pulsed up the wound causing Sade to wince under her veil.

She wondered what advice her mother might have shared today. Would her father have given her away in this guard’s place? No, it would be nothing so heartfelt as that. They would laugh, immensely amused that for all their reckless disregard for rules and consequences, even they hadn’t gotten sacrificed to a dark being.

It was no good thinking about her choices now. There was nothing to do but watch her blood crawl along lines carved into the stone altar, colouring the pentagram red.

It glowed.

Sade jolted, a pained sound escaping her when The Guard’s grip tightened once again.

“Don’t move,” he hissed.

“It was an accident,” Sade responded, trying to keep her voice low. “You didn’t have to—”

“Silence.”

It was The Summoner who’d interrupted her.

He turned all the way around to frown at them before lighting the final candles beside Sade’s blood. Before today, she’d known the man from heavy robes that trailed past her cell when he interrogated prisoners for The Chief. Keening cries accompanied him every time, seeping through thick granite, reaching her even in sleep.

Sade’s blood completed the pentagram. The Summoner stepped back as red grew brighter, its light sharper. Behind her, there was movement from the crowd. When the glare shone harsher still, Sade brought her free hand over her eyes. Red bled through, bright and scorching. 

Just as Sade couldn’t take it anymore, the intensity dulled. The room was silent. Cautious, Sade lowered her hand, finding a new presence on the altar.

This couldn’t be right.

No one had prepared Sade for this. Though when she’d been dragged out of her cell, she hadn’t been prepared much at all. Maybe it was her own fault for knowing nothing of deities. Still, she hadn’t been told about --

“A woman?” The Summoner asked, surprised as well.

The pale form seated on the altar ignored him, casting dark eyes over the room. Her dress flowed like liquid, pooling on the ground below, identical to the shade of Sade’s blood. Perhaps the village would refuse to give her to a woman.

“It doesn’t matter,” The Chief yelled, crushing Sade’s hope from the front row. “Finish the contract!”

It was then that the deity’s eyes rested on Sade. Something in her aura changed, emanating a dense, oppressive air that suffocated the room. Sade yearned for her cell.

“Well,” the being stalked forward. Sade couldn’t stop herself inching back. The Guard pulled her steady. “Let me have a look at you.”

Sade flinched as a hand brushed her face, lifting the veil. The cold touch bit her senses. Eyes averted; Sade endured the scrutiny. Finally, the deity stepped back. 

“I suppose you’ll do.”

Sade exhaled slowly. Passing that inspection may not have been a good thing. As if sensing that thought, The Guard squeezed her wrist, reminding her of his hold. Black eyes watched the movement.

“Rings are traditional for humans,” the deity said. “Did anyone prepare some?”

“Ye- uh—” There was some shuffling as someone was pushed forward. “I mean – yes, your… darkness.”

Ancient eyes rolled. The young voice was beckoned forward.  

“Bring them to us,” she commanded.

A cushion was brought up. Though his steps were reluctant, The Ring Bearer presented the gold bands with steady arms. He barely trembled when the deity reached for one before she held her hand out toward Sade.

“May I?” she asked.

The Guard dropped her wrist, remaining close. His proximity was threat enough. Avoiding facing the being directly, Sade gave her hand. She nodded.

The room was still as the deity slid the ring onto Sade’s finger. It remained silent as she returned the favour, absorbing an unnatural chill through their brushed fingers. 

“It is done,” the being announced. Her weighted voice stirred through the crowd, sinking into the walls. “We are wed. What would my wife ask of me?”

Cool metal sat heavy on Sade’s finger, binding her surer than any chain; one prison replaced with another.

“I wish for you to save his village,” Sade told her, repeating The Chief’s request. “From the attacks of the north.” 

The deity laughed.

Startled, Sade watched the sound pour from the pale form, full and unrestrained. The dress rippled, appearing as an eerie cascade.

“I’m sorry,” she said, at last gathering herself. “That is not something I can grant.”

Sade stilled. The request had failed. They’d traded her for nothing. There was some satisfaction in knowing the village would suffer too. 

“How?” The Chief called out, furious. “You are a powerful deity! How can you not possess the power?”  

Black smoked from the being’s eyes, darkening the room. Fear shuddered the rows.    

“I command the void,” she told the village, glaring at The Chief. “I pull humanity to the edge, guide them to the brink. It is not my place to draw you from it.”

Cowed, The Chief didn’t respond.

“What if we asked her to destroy them?” a brave voice called out. “Not to save us.”

Sade frowned. That couldn’t work.

 “Yes,” The Chief agreed slowly. It seemed that the idea was plausible to him. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Blood lips smiled. “Perhaps.”

“Then ask her,” he demanded Sade. “Tell her to destroy them.”

“Wait!”

The Summoner had decided to intervene.

“Your words must be specific,” he warned, drawing away from the altar. “Or she’d bring all sides to ruin.”

The room took pause.

“Be as paranoid as you wish,” the deity told them. “It matters little to me.”

“The Summoner is right,” a crowd member insisted. “We have to be careful.”

“Then we must ask for something else!”

“Like what?”

At that, the discussion became disordered. Ideas were fought with arguments and the roar of voices grew. Invisible to the crowd, Sade braved looking up to meet the gaze in front of her. 

“Finally,” the being smiled. Her eyes pulled Sade deep; dark and haunting. “I was waiting for a little spine.”

She turned then to The Guard. He’d remained beside Sade, apart from the room’s deliberation.

“I think your usefulness is done,” the imposing figure told him. “Join the others and give me a moment with my new wife.”

The man’s brows drew together, reluctant. Still, he moved. The deity’s dampening presence diluted when he left. Facing Sade, she leaned in.

 “You know,” she said. Her breath was ice in Sade’s ear, sparking cold through her. “Now that you belong to me – there isn’t a human in this world who can control you.”

Sade’s ear numbed. The pale being leaned back, dark eyes expectant.

Behind them, Sade was aware the noise had dulled.

“We’ve decided,” The Chief announced. His voice was slipping away, reaching Sade through a fog. “Ask her to send a deadly plague on all fighters who invade.”

Sade opened her mouth, but she was drowning, consumed by the red before her.

“Go on,” the deity coaxed. Her smoking eyes were fixed on Sade. “Ask me what you want.”

The altar, the walls - the entire village, disappeared. They were isolated in this moment; Sade, and the being who’d unleash power upon her next words.

“I want…” Sade declared. The deity’s presence enveloped her, tugging at the cavernous depths of her soul. She’d never known darkness to be so warm. “For you to send a deadly plague on the people of this village.”

The room stilled. Sade’s wife smiled, sharp and wide.

“Consider it done.”

It might have been wrong all those years ago, to describe love as another bind; built to confine. Perhaps it was more like a root that burrowed into space. One that could grow even in Sade, now that she knew the sweetest gift of all, an opened cage.