Chapter 1Sacrificial Vow

Every year, in the isolated hollow of Blackwood Creek, a girl of age is chosen to be the Patron’s Bride.

The chosen one must enter the sacred cavern to lie with the Patron, a mysterious entity the town has worshipped for generations. If she emerges alive, she becomes a revered Matriarch, and any child conceived from the union is said to be blessed with a life of fortune.

If she dies… well, the town simply waits for the next year’s Bride. The "blessing" of her sacrifice is then said to pass to her family.

But no one ever wanted to be chosen. Families fled the valley, pulling their daughters out of school, anything to escape the selection.

Except for me. I volunteered.

Because I had a hunger. A desperate, gnawing curiosity to know what a god felt like.

The day before the spring equinox, I was sprawled on my bed, scrolling through my phone, when a crowd of people flooded into our yard.

Elder Hawthorne, the town’s de facto leader, was at the forefront. "Elara," he boomed, a grin stretching across his weathered face. "We’ve come to give you the good news!"

I shot up from my bed. "Elder Hawthorne, does this mean… I’ve been chosen? Can I be the Patron’s Bride?"

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "Your sister Clara was the Bride just last year, so your name wasn't meant to be in the running. But since you insisted so fiercely, we had no choice but to open the Sanctum and ask the founders."

"We cast the stones three times," he continued, his voice dropping to a solemn tone, "and three times, the founders gave their consent. It is settled."

"Yes!" I practically leaped into the air with joy.

"Calm yourself, child," the Elder said, handing me a list. "Here is what you will need to prepare. We will escort you from your home at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. I've asked a few of the more experienced women to help you get ready. You can ask them anything you don't understand."

"Oh, thank you, thank you! I’m… well, I’m not very experienced. What exactly will I need to do… in the cavern?" I asked, trying to sound shy.

Martha, my neighbor and one of the town’s older women, frowned. "We'll instruct you on that tonight. For now, we must prepare your ceremonial gown."

I dashed into my room and returned a moment later, clutching a full ensemble—a deep crimson gown, hand-embroidered with ancient symbols, and an ornate headpiece. "I've always dreamed of marrying the Patron," I announced breathlessly. "I've had this ready for a long time."

Our town had fallen on hard times. More and more people were leaving for the cities to find work, leaving Blackwood Creek to rot. I was the last unmarried woman of a certain age left. That’s why, even at twenty-eight, I was still considered a candidate. As someone who had supposedly dreamed of this day my entire life, I had prepared for it meticulously.

As soon as the Elder and the other men left, I eagerly turned to the women. "So, how do I please the Patron?"

Martha followed me into my bedroom. Her eyes immediately fell on the collection of objects scattered across my bed. Her face went pale.

"Elara," she whispered, her voice tight. "Tell me true. Are you… untouched?"

"Of course, I am."

"Then what are these?" she asked, gesturing at the mess.

With a flourish, I gathered the items and began to explain. "This is my secret weapon. For years, none of the Brides have conceived the Patron’s child, have they? It’s because the women themselves aren’t prepared. So, I consulted a wise woman, a seer, and she told me I needed to use these. With their help," I declared, "I can have as many of his children as he desires."

Martha took one of the objects from me, her expression a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. "This… this thing is that powerful?"

"It is. If you like them, I can give you one each. I have plenty."

I opened a drawer and pulled out several brand-new, still-in-the-box items, handing one to each of the wide-eyed women. Each was worth a small fortune, and just like that, they were bought. They not only taught me the secret words to whisper to the Patron, but they also impressed upon me one critical rule: no matter what happens in the cavern, I must not, under any circumstances, open my eyes.

Filled with a rush of excitement, I decided to share my most precious secret. "Martha," I began, leaning in conspiratorially, "the seer who advised me… she said I have a blessed womb. She said I'm like fertile soil—if someone tills the land, a forest is sure to grow." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "That's why I've kept myself pure for so long. No man is worthy of this body, except for the Patron."

Clatter.

The device in Martha’s hand slipped from her grasp and hit the floor. When she saw me looking, she forced a smile back onto her face. "That's wonderful, dear. The future of our town rests on your shoulders."