The Sacrifice - A Short Story Of Fiction

pxhere.com

---

Once upon a time, when time was still young and this Earth even younger, there lived a beautiful girl in a small village at the feet of a gigantic mountain. The people there were farmers, worked the land and bred animals. They were pious people, dreaded the gods that lived at the top of the mountain. 

Why dread them? Because the gods controlled the ring that spit fire and could destroy them all at once if their anger ever was so great. And in order to keep them satisfied the villagers offered gifts to them regularly. Meat, clothes, expensive jewelry or fruit, anything to keep them happy. And every time they had one young girl travel all the way up, carrying those presents and tossing them in the big ring of fire. A girl in her late puberty would go up and come back down as a woman in her early maturity.

How did they know when to send their presents? The gods signalled with smoke. When the dark plume was visible in the sky, the villagers knew it was the time to pay their "taxes" to the greater forces. So, they prepared a horse and a carriage with all the goodies they had, dressed a girl in a beautiful dress and send her as an ambassador. They all came back a few days later, tired and dirty but the gods were always satisfied and the village saved. 

On that day there was a plume coming out of the mountain again. The people knew what they had to do. Women started bringing some of their finest clothes, earrings and necklaces. The men would bring meat from the animals on their farms and fruit from their orchards. The plume was too dark this time. The gods must have been really angry. Someone must have done something really bad to infuriate them. So, this time the carriage had to be even bigger.

Two horses were needed to drag the carriage, two horses and one girl. Our girl. Dressed in a graceful yellow dress with her long black hair loose and decorated with delicate flowers she set off on a journey almost every girl of the village had done. This rite was now her passing from puberty to maturity, because she was going to meet the gods and save her people from their wrath.

The journey was a day long, but the carriage this time was bigger and heavier than usual, so she would probably need a few more hours. At the lower levels of the mountain there were trees and bushes, all green. As she went higher the plants became more and more scarce and the road steeper. Rocks made the climb more difficult as the wheels were slipping. The horses tried hard to keep up. It was obvious they were tired and scared. The canyons spreading along the road wouldn't help. She was walking next to them and tried to calm them down by stroking them and singing.

Suddenly, one of the horses stumbbled on a small pit. The carriage shook violently. The second horse, frightened, neighed and stood on two feet. The ground started disappearing beneath it and it dragged the whole carriage and the other horse into the deep canyon. The girl was left there unable to move. She could not believe what had just happened. She was walking from the side of the mountain, so she luckily got away from the landslide, but now her gifts for the gods were gone!

She was desperate! What was she going to do? The black smoke was still coming out from the top which was a few hundred meters away. It was getting darker and darker, which meant that the gods knew what had happened and were even angrier at her for letting their prizes get lost. She could not go there empty-handed, the gods would destroy her village. There was nothing around either, what would she offer them? Black rocks and dirt? Who was she going to fool?

Think, think hard you idiot! You are going to get everyone killed! You are such a disgrace to your people!

She panicked! Her palms were sweatting, her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would come out of her chest and her ears were buzzing. And suddenly she yelled: Yes! She had no other choice. She would become the present to the gods. After all, she had nothing more than herself to give.

With a heavy heart, but determined to do it she started walking the remaining distance. Half an hour later she was there, at the top. The smoking rim was waiting to receive its payment. The payment for a debt of sins. A payment of human flesh and blood since that was all she had.

She took a deep breath. Her legs were trembling, her palms hadn't stopped sweating. Her lips dry and her cheeks pale made her look like a ghost. She had no other choice. She walked towards the rim. The heat was getting more and more unbearable, caressing her body and calling to devour it. 

She kept walking towards the mouth of the volcano. The gods needed her to drench their fury. The gods demand sacrifices and it's the innocent that need to be the offering for the guilty to be saved. She stepped up on the rim. The heat forced her to close her eyes. The smoke was smothering her, her nose and throat were tingling and the oxygen in her lungs was giving its place to the deathly fumes. Teardrops started running down her closed eyes that evaporated before making it to her chin. She felt dizzy and let herself go inside the burning pool of lava that swallowed her in her yellow dress and her hair decorated with flowers, the girl in her late puberty that didn't get to enter her maturity because she gave herself away for the others.

And as she was going down her beautiful black hair spread in the wind and covered every tree branch of the area. And her tears turned to stones that ran down the mountain and reached her village. The children that found them the next day made beautiful necklaces out of them, they didn't know what those stones were, but they felt the need to wear them around their necks.

---

*Original story by @ruth-girl - Steemit, 2018

And because some times boring science feeds our imagination, learn that in volcanic eruptions thin hair-like structures can occur from cooling magma. Lava drops can also create tear-like forms. 

Wanna know more? Read on...

Pele's hair

Pele's hair is a type of volcanic glass, formed when molten basaltic glass stretches and turns into thin fibers, light enough to be carried away by the wind. Pele's hair got its name from Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of the volcanoes. The golden-yellow formations happen from lava cascades, lava fountains and lava flows. When drops of lava are tossed into the air, the drops of basaltic glass start elongating and reach usually 5-15 centimeters, although they can be as long as 2 meters. Their diameter is less than half milimeter and being super light, they are carried by the wind to end up on tree branches and antennae or the ground. 

These formations are so delicate that the slightest touch would shatter them. Since they are made of glass, it is dangerous to touch them with bare hands, because the broken pieces might pierce your skin. [source]

Pele's tears

Pele's tears (which also got their name from the same goddess) are tear-like formations of cooled lava. When drops of lava are jetted into the air, they are rapidly cooling down and deforming as well (deformation depends on various factors - speed at which it's coming out of the volcano, viscosity of the magma, surface tension and air resistance). They are jet black and you may often see them attached at the end of a strand of Pele's hair.

Volcanologists cherrish them as they can reveal valuable information on the nature of an eruption. Inside those bizarre "teardrops", gas bubbles and other particles are trapped, by studying them, scientists can make a lot about the mechanisms of an eruption and the composition of the magma chamber. [source]

Just in Hawaii?

Pele's hair is not exclusively found in Hawaii's volcanoes, but all around the world. In Iceland, for example, the phenomenon is called "witches' hair". 

Bonus: Apache tears

Another volcanic glass formation are the Apache tears, made of a type of obsidian. They are formed from "siliceous lava flows, lava domes or ash-flow tuffs". They are close connected with gray perlite, as the seem to be found in the center of perlite lumps. Apache tears are found in western USA (Arizona and Nevada).

The myth says that when the Apache facing defeat from the the US Cavalry back in the 1870s, instead of surrendering they rode towards the mountains. The families of the warriors wept upon learning the outcome of the battle and their tears turned to stone once they touched the ground. [source]

Thank you so much for your time!

Until my next post,
Steem on and keep smiling, people!