52 Project #23: Firedance (Patreon)

With rings of light surrounding me, with rings of darkness covering me, I dance. Perfectly and long I dance the firedance. There is no fire in my veins, there are no flames around my body, but I see nothing. Hear nothing but the throbbing of the music, feel nothing but my body and the hard ground under my feet, I dance.

Hands catch me, lead me away. The world comes back in a hum of motion, in cold sweat drying on my naked body. I hear the crowds roar. There are other dancers, to come after me. I cannot see them. I slump on the ground next to the dancers who came before me, exhausted with hardly the strength to breathe, racked with the pain of the dance. O but it was beautiful.

The music stops. Hands reach for me again, lead me to the stage. The crowd is cheering, chanting for me. The priest rings my neck with the winner's garland. I shall be the firedancer.

The crowd's cheers are music. My body is too weak to dance, but I must respond. In my mind, I get up, I dance wildly to the music of the cheering. They surge onto the stage, lifting me and spinning me and chanting my name. I see a blur of heads and collars and faces beneath me. The chant pounds through me. They carry me through the village, screaming my name. I will be the Fire-goddess, the dancer. I will save them all.

Later I am in a bed, in the doctor's place. My limbs are heavy with my exhaustion, golden weights on my body. Masseurs come and rub my muscles, anointing me with fragrant oils that ease the leaden ache. Food and water are brought. I sleep. For three hours I danced, and I need to sleep.

Someone shakes me awake, before I am quite ready. "Yri!" It is Darin. Sleepily I blink, looking up at him. "Yri, why? Why did you do it?"

"Why would I not? Once I dance, I will live forever," I tell him. "I will be the Goddess."

"They've brainwashed you! I knew you never should have gone into the Dancers-- I knew-- I never should have let you--"

He is a fool. To dance was all my life, all my dream. "How could you have stopped me?"

"Yri, we were engaged. We were going to be married. How can you--"

"I am married to the Dance," I tell him. My face is a mask of stone. His own brown face stiffens like wood.

"I'm going to get you out of here," he tells me. He turns on his heel and leaves.

I loved him once. But that was another life. Now the Dance is all there is. I do not follow him with my eyes as he goes.

***

I practice. My dance was perfect, or I would not have won the honor. But maintaining perfection is work. There are three days left until the Firedance. The other dancers stare at me in awe. Some, in resentment, because they know they are too old or too imperfect ever to be Chosen. Others, in hope that one day they shall stand in my place. They give me all the practice space I need.

After each practice session come the masseurs with their oils, and the bath attendants, and other servants, to help me keep my body as perfect as it can be. In three days I will be a goddess, and become immortal. I must be worthy.

There are ceremonies and parties. Fine rich foods-- which I can eat as much as I like of, as long as I am not to dance immediately afterward-- and wine, and all the men and women vie for my favor, wishing to share the Chosen's bed. I think of Darin, and take none of them. The dance is all the pleasure I need. 

I do not see Darin. He is avoiding me.

***

The full moon rises, on the night of this year's Firedance. The night is alive with promise, energy a crackling presence in the air. My hair stands on end. Tonight.

The doctor and my attendants bring me to the hill of the Dance. The Council are there, in blue robes colored for the hottest, purest flame, and the Priests are there in white. All the village stands in red robes below. I stand naked before all the villagers and all the gods, bowing my honor. I wish I could dance my honor and awe, and gratitude at being Chosen, but not yet. Not yet.

"Vein-fire," the doctor says, and injects the burning clear vein-fire into my blood. O it burns, how it burns within me, heating my blood, but I do not move. I have been trained when not to dance as well. The energy coils inside me, waiting for me to release it.

Naked children come and anoint me with the slow-burning oil, across my legs and arms, my breasts, my face and hair. I hold myself motionless against the agony of the fire in my veins, the sweet terrible burning so awful it is almost pleasure, and feel the energy build within. It is almost time. 

They lead me to the center of the clearing, at the top of the hill, and set the flames around the edge of the ring. I wait, though the burning inside drives me. I must writhe, I must scream, I must dance. But I must wait.

The gong strikes, and the music begins.

I dance.

The flames around the circle ring me with white, with red and yellow and orange, and with the black at the center of every flame. There is no blue yet. The Goddess is not yet with me. I dance a prayer to Her, to come and fill me with her flame, to burn Yri away and make me Her avatar. The Council sits in the closest ring below me, where the heat brings sweat to their faces, watching me in judgment. I shall bring the Goddess's favor. I dance to them my pride that they have Chosen me as worthy, and my gratitude. I begin to dance my joy in dancing.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

Time freezes. I see Darin, wrapped in a flame-resistant garment he got from the Outlanders, long ago. He charges through the flame, daring the Goddess's wrath for his love of me. He grasps my arm.

"Yri, Yri, what have they done to you? What have they done to you?" He tries to wrap me in a flame-resistant towel. "I've got to get you out of here!"

I loved him once. But this transgression, I cannot forgive.

My veins burn with fire, and my sight is pure and white. He desecrates the Goddess, and my dance, and I hate him. I dance my rage, dance the fight. I beat him, kick him, slash him, and my flames reach for him, my flames turn from me and impurify themselves with Darin. I lift him in rage and fling him from me. Once he was heavy, and I was small and slight, but I am filled with power now and I can do anything. The Goddess is with me. He falls through the flame circle and down on the other side of the hill. 

He is most likely dead. I will live forever.

I dance the flame that burns my veins and my skin and drives me down, dance the wave of flame-energy in the vein-fire that will not let me stop or rest or end the dance. I want to scream. I am filled with pain and joy and ecstasy, my body wreathed in flame, catching ablaze, and I long to scream, but I must save all the breath I have left for the dance. The flames burn along my hair, and I dance. The flames lick at my eyes and lips, like tender lovers. I dance. The flames race up and down my body, claiming me, taking me, loving me, killing me. And I dance. And I dance.

The flames have burned my eyes away, and still I see the blue of the Goddess’ pure flame. Muscles burnt away, I sink to the ground. Exhaustion claims me, and the flames take me to their bosom, the sweet hot breath of the Goddess on me. The dance is over. I am spent.

I have danced. I have won immortality.