The fire burns consistently along with the purifying pyre in my soul. No matter what happens tonight, they know that we have appeased them. A sacrifice burns under the light of a thousand stars, flesh cracking and burning, peeling away to reveal the true form.
       A low, almost guttural scream is heard from the pile of logs at the base of the inferno. But that does not matter, now. It is all to please them. If they are not satisfied, then I will be eternally damned and sure to waste away in the fires of hell.
       Clytemnestra joins me around the outer edge of the oblong circle we've gathered ourselves into. Her hand is harsh and cool against my arm, and it sends a wave of shock through me.
       "We've done it," she sings delightedly. "The gods are elated, Ibrahim. We have done it!"
       I spin around to face her. "Nestra, how do you know this? We cannot be sure-"
       "Hush, Ibra," she cuts me off. "Silence, now. Just look at the way his mouth is open and screaming. Is it not exactly what they would want from us? It is the face of total and complete despair. Exactly as was specified." She slides her hand down my arm, sending a startling chill down my spine.
       Her golden bracelets glint in the light of the fire, obscured by the black cloaks that we all wear. It's ritualistic. To wear anything else would be a grievous sin. But Nestra wears her bracelets, always, for she would die without them. She may look like one of us, but she is so much more. To me, and to everyone. Clytemnestra, Greek warrior goddess. She is here, a messenger from the Ancient Ones. All sacrifices come at her hands.
       The rest of us are inconsequential compared to Nestra, including me. But I still remain, standing next to her while the burning light envelops the circle.
       Then, suddenly, I feel a push from behind me, and I descend into my fiery demise.
       "Goodbye, Ibra. You have served me well..."