Auroras

Editor’s note: This brief flash item is not meant to be structured with plot or characters, but serve as a brief scribbling I enjoyed conjuring while thinking about the Northern Lights as the sun went down this afternoon. -KtE

The fire raged onward in the night, sending sparks upward into the stars. A boy stared up into the darkness, watching as the embers danced on airflows from the rising heat until finally the faded as their fuel burned out. The embers swirled and danced, and the warriors of the clan followed the same pattern around the fire, their feet stomping with each rhythmic beat of a drum. The warriors let great high-pitched songs out from deep breaths from time to time, a “hiiiiiiiyyyyyya-hehyaah-wooop-wooop!” that meant nothing in particular, but was a cry toward the gods above and below to give them a victory the next day.

The tribe stomped along in a circle around the great fire and procession of warriors, lost in a trance to the brilliance of the flames and the flashes of skin in and out of the darkness.

The boy disturbed that trance as he shouted “Look! Look!” and everyone turned their gazes upward as the drums stopped and the warriors caught themselves from falling into a pile with the sudden halt and kicked up a cloud of dust.

The whole of the sky was filled with color, almost as bright as the daylight but in shades of blue, red and purple that were unlike anything they had ever experienced.

An elder shouted as he stared upward “it is a sign! We shall be victorious tomorrow!”

The whole of the tribe began shouting in exhilaration.

Sure enough, they were victorious the following day, but not without sacrifice. The gods gave them a sign in the night skies, but they demanded a blood sacrifice in exchange, and so they had it.