My Library

the Great Hall. I move slowly down the main aisle to the waiting group at the Altar. The High Priest stands in front of the Altar, wearing his white robe with the golden braided symbols across the front. On his head is the Holy Crescent Moon. Behind him are the Seven Keepers of the Realm, each holding a staff atop which is one of the Seven Sacred Stars lighted by a flaming taper. As I approach the Altar, I know what I will see upon it, and I am correct. A young girl attired in a flowing gown of bright red to hide the blood is lying upon its stone surface. Silken cords are attached to her ankles and wrists, then to large rings on the sides of the Altar. I know well the Ritual although I have never performed it. Once I have completed the Sacred Act in the name of the Almighty, I will transcend that status of a lowly Priest and become an Alternate Keeper of the Realm. When one of the Seven dies and departs for Chimmon, the Land of Eternal Joy and the Throne of the Almighty, I will become one of the Seven. When the High Priest departs, one of the Seven will take his place and assume his Power and Glory as the direct Communicant with the Almighty. Perhaps I may be that one … but now I am not sure. The dream of years past flickers within me and it is not this. If I do not perform the Ritual, I will be stripped of my robe, cast out into the street, where I will be stoned to death by the populace. I move next to the Altar, and the High Priest hands me the Ritual blade, a slender, sharply pointed knife with a carved silver handle. I have been instructed carefully where to insert the Ritual knife at various spots on her body so as to keep from causing her death immediately, but to engender exquisite ecstasy within her while the High Priest and the Seven give their Blessings … I raise the blade for the first swift insertion … and I stop, arm upraised. I am looking into the eyes of the girl. In them are fear, puzzlement, resignation … and beyond these, a knowing, a depth that carries me past the distortion of my dream and into what I was sure was always there … I lower my arm, turn, and drop the silver knife, only a knife, in front of the fat man who calls himself a High Priest … I cannot do it, no, I will not do it … and I am free!… and a bright white ray comes through the ceiling of the Great Hall and centers on me, flashes through my entire