The Expanse

Roj stood in the expanse of the Empire's finest hallways in nothing more than a loin cloth and the sparse dignity of a poor rat.

Sconces filled with breathing fire flooded the space with light and bounced across the wooden walls of the corridor. The etchings of heroes and gods seemed to absorb the illumination, their static forms glowing with heat. A sparse breeze blew in from behind, bringing with it the scent of rain and wind from the city outside.

"Not the best day for rain." the guard to Roj's left said. Of black pelt and moonlit tattoos, the guard was a prime example of the jaguar warriors who watched the Empire. A scar resembling a winding snake traveled down his muzzle, highlighting the scowl that was directed toward Roj. "I hope She is not displeased with you, boy."

"Ah, don't bully him," a voice came in from Roj's right. Another warrior, although this one was of golden pelt with black spots and of considerably slighter build. His gaze was kind in spite of the fierce tattoos that crossed it, and his grip on the spear held to his side was far looser. "Look, he's shaking."

"A sign of a coward."

"He's a rat and we're jaguars. You'd be scared too if you stood before someone with three times your weight and twice your height."

"Lies."

The guard to Roj's right snorted. He looked down at the rat and patted him between the shoulder blades. Roj struggled to keep his balance as a hand the size of his chest threatened to send him crashing to the floor.

"Don't let him get to you," the guard reassured. "He just gets like this during storms."

"I-it's fine," Roj muttered, his gaze cast to the floor. He hated the way his voice trembled. "I-I'm not scared. J-just nervous."

"Well, quell your nervousness," the black jaguar growled. "You are to stand before the altar, and you are to be made a gift to Her. Gifts do not tremble; they do not stutter."

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good. Now breathe. Your time approaches."

Silence once again fell over the corridor, interrupted only by the crackling of flame and a burst of lightning from far off. Roj busied himself with breathing, grasping the side of his loincloth as he filled with his lungs with air. There was a hint of smoke in the wind, mingled with something sweeter. It was... pleasant, and Roj's trembling soon faded away.

Another minute passed by. The storm raged outside the temple and the guards stood still on either side of Roj. All was still, save for the dancing flame and the wooden faces it reflected.

Until, naturally, it wasn't.

A jaguar, who had either emerged from a side tunnel obscured by shadow or had simply materialized from the shadows themselves, marched forward. She was the same inky-black as the guard to Roj's right but far slimmer, with a body that seemed more suited for stalking than guarding. A club of solid jade rested on her shoulder and a necklace of moonstone dangled from her neck. The necklace was hauntingly beautiful; it seemed to sing as it jangled around the predator's neck.

"The priestess awaits," the new jaguar announced. She glanced down at Roj, her eyes as hard as stone. "Are you prepared, little one?"

"Yes," Roj said. The tremor in his voice had fled, although the thudding of his heart had grown even louder than the lightning outside.

"Good. Follow me."

With that, the female jaguar turned and took off, her tail swishing from side to side. Roj looked back at the two guards. The cruel one did nothing more than cross his arms while his partner gave a reassuring nod. That little gesture quelled Roj's heartbeat just enough for him to give a weak smile. He turned away and scampered after the jaguar, who had measured her lengthy stride so as not to allow Roj to fall too far behind.

The combined footsteps of rat and jaguar echoed down the hall, rebounding off the wood and filling Roj's ears with a choir of sounds. Rain, thunder, fire, it all melded together. It was a disturbing melody that was far too loud for the rat's sensitive ears, but Roj didn't mind it as much as he would have. In fact, he relished hearing it. After all, it would be one of the last performances the world gave him before the end.

After a minute or so of walking, Roj's new guard stopped. Before the pair was a wall covered in painted etchings that curved sharply to the right. It was hard to tell in the torchlight, but the rat could make out the silhouettes of rats, jaguars, snakes, and hounds huddled around a dial. Red streaks were splattered across the art, which shimmered as if freshly applied.

"When you go outside, keep going straight," the jaguar said, pointing forward with her club. "You'll see a dial and the head priestess. Keep your eyes on her. It shouldn't be hard."

"I understand," Roj muttered.

"Good," the guard huffed. She glanced down at the rat, her eyes gleaming like tiny stars. "I wish you luck on the other side, little one."

"Thank you."

The jaguar just nodded and waved Roj forward with her club. Then she stepped back, and the shadows wrapped around her like an embrace. Only the tattoos that were so prevalent with her kind remained, like tiny moons in a starless night.

Roj stepped forward. He felt small, so much smaller than he usually did. The walls, the etching before him, everything seemed twice as large as it had mere moments ago. A part of him wanted to go find a corner or crack to hide away in, as was the custom when a rat felt fear. But that wasn't an option.

There was only forward.

And so, Roj moved forward. He approached the wall, his eyes wandering over the finely crafted etchings and splattering that covered it. A faint smell of iron wafted from it, and the rat quickly looked away. Fear spiked his heart, but he stifled it. Fear would not rescue him or bring him glory.

Only what awaited him would. And what awaited him was rain and thunder.

Just past the wall was the hallway's exit, and just past that was the outside world. Rain poured from a dark sky, drenching the egress and soaking the wooden floor. Roj couldn't see past the curtain of water, but that wouldn't matter. All he needed to do was step out into the pouring curtain from the sky and move forward.

The rat gasped as he stepped out of the dry confines of the hallway, his fur soaked down to the bone in a mere moment. Cold seeped into his body, sucking whatever warmth remained and sending shivers down Roj's spine. Water poured onto his ears and forced them down. He probably looked like something dragged out of the river at that point.

"Rat of the Undercaste!" a voice boomed from beyond the sheet of rain. "Do not let the weather stop your march. Keep moving, and hold your head high!"

Roj blinked hard. The voice sounded familiar, but the rain muddied whatever significance it held. No matter. He didn't need to understand it to know he needed to follow it.

The rat moved forward, trying his best to keep his back straight in spite of the pounding deluge that threatened to push him into the earth. His tail dragged through the stone, and his loincloth threatened to slide right off his frame.

Soon, however, his march was rewarded with a sudden and much-needed stop in the rain. Roj looked up to see a stony roof. Dozens of exaggerated faces stared back down at him, their eyes mad with lust, power, and zealotry.

"Greetings," that familiar voice called again, drawing Roj's attention forward. There, in a square room open to the roaring storm and lit only by a circle of braziers, was a pedestal of truly impressive grandeur. Covered in carvings of serpents inlaid with all manner of precious stones, it was roughly the shape and size of an anvil. Fresh liquid pooled from the top, sloping down the stairs and pooling around Roj's feet. It was far stickier than he would have liked, but he managed to ignore it. The figure before him was far more distracting anyway.

Coiled around the pedestal was a serpent of such opulence and divinity that Roj had to stop himself from prostrating himself before her. Instead, He opted for a simple bow that was befitting for a rat like him.

"Rise and approach, little one," the serpent ordered. Her voice was like flowing water, sweet and welcoming but more than capable of turning into a roaring flood at a moment's notice.

Roj nodded and did as he was told. He approached the pedestal with as much reverence as he could muster, glancing up at the figure with awe in his gaze.

She was clad in scales of scarlet that reminded the rat of freshly drawn blood that turned to a more muted color as they traveled up her stomach. Gold and jade were draped over her sinuous lower half and more familiar upper half. The serpent's exposed breasts and wide hips were rather distracting for Roj, and he had to stop himself from blushing as his eyes wandered over the priestess's exaggerated curves. He wasn't able to stop himself from staring, however, when he met the priestess's face. Or rather, faces.

Two serpentine heads erupted from the priestess's shoulders, with the one on the left being the same brilliant red as the rest of her body and its twin being a solemn shade of blue. The feathered headdresses they wore were similarly colored, as was the bright paint that framed their eyes. Said eyes fixed Roj with a stare both equally comforting and cruel,as conflicting as her dual heads.

"You are small, even for a rat." the priestess said. She bowed her heads lower to appraise Roj with a clinical glare. "What is your name?"

"Roj, priestess," the rat squeaked. He tried his hardest to match the serpent's gaze but found it an impossible task with just his two eyes.

"Roj, hm? And I trust you know mine?"

"Xo'Sa. Head Priestess of the Empire," Roj answered. "I've attended your sermons in the past."

"As all Her children should," Xo'Sa replied. "You will make a good bleeding, then, as all your kind you hear Her words have. Now, ascend the steps. Quell the heart. We begin."

The serpent reared up and gestured to the stained top of the pedestal. Wind pushed the fires around in a swirl of orange, casting the faces staring down from the ceiling in a fiery glow. The scent and sound of rain faded, replaced instead by the iron taint of blood and the pounding of a beating heart.

Taking a deep breath did little to calm Roj's nerves, but he pushed forward nonetheless. His paws slapped against the liquid dribbling from the pedestal, and his tail dragged through the stuff, leaving it in an even worse state than when it had been in the rain. The stairs were short and cracked with use; indeed, they had been used hundreds of times and would be used even more by the time Roj was done.

The rat reached the pedestal and hoisted himself on top, nearly slipping off thanks to the fluid coating its surface. Xo'Sa watched with curious heads as Roj settled down, his arms laid flat on either side, and his legs stretched out. It was uncomfortable and the stone etchings on the surface dug into the rat's back, but his life had never been particularly comfortable to begin with.

Why would it start now?

"The Empress will be arriving soon to oversee the ritual," Xo'Sa said. She reached down to the sheathe dangling at her side and pulled a dagger loose. Formed of black rock and gold, the triangular-shaped tool was at once beautiful and deadly. Roj couldn't help but stare at it as the serpent held it, the blade flashing in the flickering flames.

"Your heartbeat is rapid," the priestess noted, knocking Roj's attention away from the knife and toward Xo'Sa. Her twin heads stared down at the rat as he stared back with wide eyes. "You are nervous."

"I-I suppose I am," Roj admitted. He found it hard to look away from the viper, the subtle shift and sway of her necks keeping his attention locked in place. "I-is that bad?"

"Not at all. Freeing yourself from the mortal sphere is not an easy task, regardless of purpose or courage. But worry not."

Xo'Sa flipped the blade so it pointed toward the ceiling and the heavens it hid.

"When we are done, you will be freed to join Her in eternity. No more suffering of the poverty that strikes your kind, no more labor. Just endless rivers that wind through lush forests. She will be thankful to receive you, and we will be thankful to receive what you have left for us."

The priestess looked back toward Roj once more. Flickering fire made the red and blues of her heads look ethereal, almost as if she were shifting in and out of reality. Smoke from the braziers blotted out the smell of rain, and the rat realized that was what he had smelled when he was in the temple corridor. He focused on that scent, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. It was pleasant, and Roj realized he would miss that smell.

"Good," Xo'Sa cooed. Roj felt hard claws press into his scalp, massaging the fur there. "Breathe in the smoke. Let it fill your lungs and calm the mind."

Roj felt himself slip into a trance, his brain clouding and the fear in his body fleeing. He would have been perfectly content to fall asleep atop a pedestal of what could only be blood. Xo'Sa probably would have let him.

Before Roj could drift off completely, there was a sudden sharp clack of claw against stone. The rat glanced toward the rain and the thunder, his eyes widening as a figure emerged from that dreadful carpet of water.

She was the picture of poise and grace; royalty wrapped up in a form that would have driven Roj to his knees if he had not already been plastered to a pedestal. Feathers of vibrant green and striking red covered her from her serpentine head to her trailing tail. Her taloned feet and hands were adorned with all manner of precious minerals that jangled with each step she took, though the finery did little to draw away from their deadly nature. A necklace of heavy jade dangled from her neck, joining the other pieces of jewelry that drew attention to an otherwise naked chest. A mask of silver covered most of her face, although Roj could still make out the feathers that peeked behind it and the burning sapphire eyes that trapped the rat in a withering gaze.

It was the gaze of a ruler. The gaze of Empress Tek'Vera. And Roj was its sole focus.

He was no longer quite as calm as he had been a mere moment ago.

"This one is smaller than usual," Tek'Vera stated as she approached the rat. The sway of her body was just as captivating as Xo'Sa's, save it lacked the subtle comfort the viper brought. This one was all business and regal cause. "Are you sure he is fit?"

"All of his kind are," Xo'Sa answered. "Size matters not. Quality does."

"I suppose you are correct."

"As I often am."

Tek'Vera shifted her glare from Roj to the priestess, who merely responded with a two-headed grin. Seeing such a casual conversation during a ritual was odd, but Roj was a newcomer here. He had no idea if that was the norm or not, but he wasn't one to assume.

"Enough of your glowering, my Empress," Xo'Sa said. She motioned to the steps just before Roj. "Kneel."

Even if she looked mildly upset, Tel'Vera did as she was told. Roj watched with interest and anxiety as the feathered Empress knelt at the rat's side. Her claws gripped the stone, and her head hovered just above Roj's chest. A solitary silver eye fixed the rat in a cold glare at the rat before turning back to the priestess.

"I am prepared, Head Priestess," she muttered. Her voice was far sharper than Xo'Sa's and far crueler, but there was a hint of divinity that sent a shiver down Roj's spine.

"Good," Xo'Sa said. She gripped her knife and angled it downward. The triangular blade flashed and gleamed in the firelight, reflecting oranges and yellows that bounced like spirits. "Then we begin."

Roj watched as the two-headed priestess slowly brought her knife down, its wicked point approaching the rat's beating heart. He winced as it stopped just before the fur, hanging there like the omen of doom it was. Then Xo'Sa began to chant.

The words were unfamiliar, muddled, and confusing. They slipped and moved against each other like rocks tumbling through a stream, grinding themselves into a fine powder of language. Roj found himself captivated by the strange tongue, hanging onto each word as they slipped from Xo'Sa's forked tongues.

Soon, Tek'Vera joined the hymn. Her words were harsh and direct, that much was clear, but they still carried the same aura that tickled the soul.

As the pair chanted, the blade poised over Roj's heart began to shiver, as if excited by the exchange. Cracks hidden by its black surface began to appear, glowing like volcanic faults. The smell of iron began to waft through the air as fluids poured from the knife. It flooded onto Roj's chest, joining the rainwater and congealing into a fine mess. There was a burning sensation as it settled there, almost as if a small fire raged on the rat's fur. But Roj had no desire to try and escape the sensation; or rather, he lacked the ability to.

His body had gone numb, his muzzle clamped tightly shut. Only his eyes could move, and they bounced back and forth between the two members of royalty chanting over his body. Their words reached a peak, one that overpowered even the storm raging outside. Tek'Vera looked to the heavens, the feathers covering her arms flashing in greens and reds. Xo'Sa did the same with one head but kept her other firmly locked on her knife.

Then, they stopped. The storm howled once again.

And Xo'Sa began to push. Her blade cut through Roj's thin layer of fur and pressed into his skin. Blood welled, seeping through the wound that slowly widened. The rat looked on with eyes wide. There was no pain as the blade went deeper and deeper, just a sense of... finality. It took hold of Roj's mind like a parasite, latching on and burying its way into his brain.

It told him to be quiet, to relax. Soon it would be over, the sacrifice would be completed, and Roj would join the goddess in a place far better than this.

His days of being an Undercaste would be over. A poor rat he would be no longer. He wondered what that would be like...

Xo'Sa said one final thing in the language Roj couldn't understand. She pressed into his flesh, up to the hilt.

And the world turned white as a flash of lightning descended.