The sacrificial one was shoved into the chamber, the door behind them sealed. The gods demanded this, if they disobeyed, the city would be destroyed. The youngster, shakingly, put their hand on the door. "Shhhh, what the elders don't know won't hurt the rest of us. Let's go." -- Anon Guest
For centuries, it had maintained peace. In the town, there was a temple dedicated to the Established Order. The temple, partially carved into a mountain, had a portal that people only went through once. It was the door for the unworthy. The unwanted. The unwelcome.
Fail in any way to be a valuable member of society, and you would be forced through that door, never to return.
It didn't need to be a yearly sacrifice. They found a way to put someone through every week. One by one, they excised the elderly, the young miscreants, the mentally slow, the disabled and the homeless. There were many occasions in which they removed those who were merely ugly or didn't quite fit their self-established mould.
If you didn't do well in school, if you were too unruly, too loud, too strange... if you didn't have a job for too long or were sick too often, you found yourself at that door. With a guard on either side and a priest at your back.
They would go through. A sacrifice to their gods of order and decency. Normalcy would return, and life would be properly orderly once more. Until they needed another scapegoat.
Jori was a daydreamer, a lolligagger, and a person who hummed to himself at random moments. He didn't hum any of the Established Hymns, but made up music. Not just music, either, but also words.
Silly words. Nonsense words.
He had been weighed in the balance and found wanting. So he was overdue to go through the portal of no return. It was the refusal to have a girlfriend that finally put him here, in the temple.
He was seven, and didn't think he needed one. He said openly that holding hands was gross.
Blasphemy.
The gods demanded his removal from acceptable society.
The priest knocked, and the door opened. The guards pushed Jori through. He stumbled into darkness as the portal slammed shut, rendering him effectively blind.
Jori scrambled to turn around, but the door was already shut fast. Not even a mote of light filtered through from the temple side of the door. He wanted to scream. To beg for mercy. To promise he'd try his best from now on if only they'd let him out.
But before he could take a breath to do that, a new light shone. Showing the room he had tumbled into. And the person waiting for him.
They were not Human. That much was clear from the points of their ears. Grey skin made to blend in with the natural shadows of the Everdark. Brownish-grey hair with the same purpose. Violet-hued eyes, larger than those of normal Elven kind. He was dressed like any normal man from the surface, but he was clearly what the books called a Cavern Elf. One of the Deep People.
"Sshh... Don't let them have the joy of your screams," whispered the Cavern Elf. "Come along, now. There's better places to spend your time and energy."
Jori had his spine up against the immobile door. "But... you're a monster."
"Only upon agreement," the Cavern Elf smirked. "Think on it this way... What options do you have?"
None. Jori took the Cavern Elf's hand, and followed in a haze. The Everdark was beautiful with luminous fungi and creatures... but that was not where they stopped. Through the Everdark, and through a rising tunnel to the other side of the mountain... where monsters and Humans lived together in a much, much nicer township.
Jori relaxed when he saw at least three former sacrifices he knew.
"Welcome... to Welcome," said the Cavern Elf, now wearing smoked glass lenses over his eyes. "Here, people will help you."
[Photo by Raychan on Unsplash]
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