A silvery crescent shone bright in the night sky as a fiery glare washed over the trees. Music and dancing filled the air as lithe forms danced about the writhing flames. Ancient words full of power pounded with the beat of the drums. Suddenly, the words became soft murmurs, and the music stopped all together. The forms were haunched over, eyes looking upon the sky. "Ahkme," they whispered as one, and the trees shuddered at the name.
Four small forms stood amongst the rest, staring at the flames. Their eyes gleaming gold by the firelight. "Ahkme," the children whispered as they walked towards the flame, voices softer, yet stronger than the others. The flames licked at the child-flesh, yearning for a taste. "Ahkme." Slowly, the crescent moon shone brilliantly, causing many stars to become unseen, and the night sky looked even darker than before. "Ahkme." Women stood, unclothed, and shook their arms at the sky as they chanted words of power. Tonight a child would be marked by flame, chosen by the Moon Goddess. "Ahkme," the men replied as they drew knives and cut their palms. Blood marked the ground as they prayed to the sky.
"Ahkme." The children murmured softly, as they stepped into the flames. Their eyes shone with innocence. Moments passed as the women shrieked at the sky.
"Ahkme."
Moments passed as the men bled on the ground.
"Ahkme."
Moments passed as the children stood in the flames, silent and staring.
"Ahkme."
The word echoed through the clearing, daring any to speak. In the silence, the flames drew into the ground, and three young bodies fell with it, eyes staring into the sky. Dead. "Ahkme," The lone child murmured as a tear ran down his milk-white cheek. A sigh ran through the people as they stared at his back. Burned into the skin was a crescent shape, bloody and red.
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