The large fire overseeing the ceremony roared in the dry evening air and dyed Siria's blank face a burning orange.
Her pupils twitched slightly at the sight of the fire, and her mind wandered off to the past.
The same fire from today had also once threatened her son's life.
As she found his limp, burned body on the cold ground that day, the background melted off entirely, and only Anku mattered there.
When she felt his coldness spread through her hands that carried him, she felt like she could collapse.
She had born this child, in spite of any challenges, and the rampant opposition by her deceased parents and elders.
His birth ceremony was not a flashy one, as she would have liked, but when she saw Babyl's eyes in the little body of that baby, she realized it was all worth it.
The two underestimated the hardship of parenthood.
Sometimes, Anku could do things, that, from their vision, were dangerous and utterly stupid, yet as they saw in that boy the union of their soul flames, only love could sprout towards him.
Soon enough, their love towards each other was no longer as important, as they channeled all of their affection onto the growing boy.
On the cold night of the spring equinox, as the witch doctor drifted off to sleep, the two approached their suffering child.
Their hopelessness in the face of his suffering was stronger than anything else they had experienced, and they had difficulty coming to terms with the fact that he would one day, as everyone did, die...
Siria came back to the present and swiftly turned her back to the fire.
She looked at her son, standing there with an expression of utter incomprehension.
*Tsk*
She clicked her tongue, hearing the vile voice she could not bear to hear.
"Siria, we have a drought here, people are dying, and the only thing you could point to was the health of your child? Can't you see around you, people are starving..." The woman from earlier sighed and looked around at the villagers to scope their reactions.
At that moment, Siria felt like she had been pushed into a corner.
The woman had forced her to defend herself, but in the process, she found another thing she could use to stir up the crowd's ire against her.
Stirring up the ire of the villagers? Her speech sure did.
In their famine and illness, they failed to recognize this great lie.
"I know you cannot have children, Melem, and I'm sorry for that, but I can't-
"Shut it, Siria! There is no greater crime to offending the gods than to lie in front of your people!"
Melem stared bitterly at the mother.
Like the conductor of an orchestra, she guided the hatred, starvation, and fury of the village towards one person, and that was Siria.
People muttered among themselves, and a sharp wind came by, attempting, but ultimately failing to tame the fire.
Babyl advanced towards his wife and placed his hands on her shoulder.
He frowned as he felt her shaking profusely.
When she turned around, a tear-ridden face met his vision.
*Rumble!*
From the edge of the gathering, Enheduanna looked up at the sky.
'A storm...?'
Dark, grey storm clouds intermixed and brewed in the sky, and a few lightning bolts zigzagged through the thick masses.
On the ground, the villagers fervently discussed amongst themselves.
Suddenly, one of them turned to the elder and screamed fanatically, "Elder, if we want to escape the curse of the goddess and stop this drought, we need to sacrifice the devil's spawn that caused it in the first place!"
In response, everyone looked down in one particular direction.
There, a confused child stood, unaware of the way public opinion was shaping up on his petite presence.
Pity flashed through their faces, but fury overshadowed it.
*Drip*
A drop of rain fell into Enheduanna's face.
She reacted reflexively, and shouted, "PEOPLE! It's raining, the goddess is not angry, STOP this fallacy immediately!"
Unfortunately, her words fell on unwilling ears.
She turned to Siria.
The mother and father stepped back, hiding their child from the masses.
Coincidentally, the witch met Siria's eyes.
Even though they stood far away, the wet face of the woman seemed to imply something.
The villagers slowly closed in on the couple.
"Siria, take our light and run."
Siria only heard these words from her husband before the man pushed her aggressively.
She paused for a few seconds, a hint of tears at her eyes, or perhaps raindrops, but then, she nodded, bit her lips, and forcefully took Anku inter her embrace.
And then...
*BAM*
She ran into the thick, dark forest, and she ran faster than she had ever run in her life.
Enheduanna examined the direction she was running in, and while Babyl distracted the villagers, she bolted, following Siria.
Seeing that the two had disappeared into the darkness, Babyl sighed, and his body no longer resisted the force of the villagers.
A dozen villagers followed his wife, while the rest thoroughly apprehended him.
While they held him, someone accidentally, or maybe, purposefully pushed him in the direction of the fire.
The flames burned very hotly near his face, but he could not move.
"Is this my retribution for the day I burned my own son?" A stream of tears slid down Babyl's cheeks.
However, the fire swiftly evaporated the tears off, and as the villagers pushed him closer and closer to the fire in their savagery, he could only groan as his eyeballs met the direct heat.
In the forest, Enheduanna had caught up to the mother-and-son duo.
"Siria, come to my house with your son."
She then noticed that the latter was breathing hoarsely, and could not even reply to her.
Enheduanna gently placed her hand on the other's shoulder but was met with an aggressive slap.
"Don't come near my light!"
"Siria..."
The mother looked up, seeing the face of the witch doctor who saved her son repeatedly.
"Have you heard? They want to kill my son to appease the goddess, they want to put him in the fire and burn him, they want to kill my son to appease the goddess, they want to put..."
She repeated herself.
*Thump*
A thick twig folded around Siria's legs, causing her to trip.
"AAAGH!" She stared at the unconscious Anku, and struggled to get her foot out from the tight enclosure.
She did as hard as she could, but as she realized it was futile, she lost strength.
Enheduanna paused, as she heard approaching whispers.
"D-doctor-r...?" Siria wiped her face.
"Yes, Siria?"
"I entrust my son to your services for one last time."
The witch doctor's mouth opened wide, as she comprehended the hidden meaning in the woman's words.
"No, no, no, here, I can get you out of here..." She kneeled down and tugged at the twig which blocked the mother's movement.
It was to no avail.
"Please, doctor."
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps rang around them, and someone shouted, "The devil's spawn is here!"
*Rumble!*
Thunder shook their eardrums once again.
Enheduanna took a look at Siria's face.
Wet from the rain, her eyes contained a resolve so bright it overshadowed the flames of the ceremony.
The witch doctor felt a lump growing in her throat.
"You've been a great mother, Siria, Anku is lucky to have a mother like you."
"It has been my pleasure, doctor, and can you guarantee that he will heal like the last time?" Siria smiled dryly.
Skinny hands gently unfolded Anku from his mother's grip.
Enheduanna held the child.
Siria's hands were frozen in the air as if she was still tightly holding Anku in her motherly embrace.
Then, the witch doctor turned around, and simply said, "Yes, Siria, you can trust me."
Following that, the two disappeared from the mother's vision.
"WHY! NARTH! WHY!" Her fists hit the ground with an unprecedented weakness.
Unfortunately, her screams served her no good, as a dozen pursuers caught up to her, and found the woman lying in the muddy soil.
Seeing the lifeless surroundings, they realized that Anku was not with her.
"Where's the devil's spawn, woman?!" A man aggressively raised her face.
When he caught her eyes, however, a chill ran up his spine.
They looked at him with such hatred and coldness he could not move.
*BAM*
He slapped her, causing her body to fall to the ground.
She did not reply.
And therefore...
*BAM*
*BAM*
*BAM*
Hits landed on her body from all sides, and bruises turned into purple, bleeding wounds.
Yet, no matter how great the pain was, no matter how much blood came out, her mouth was forever shut.