Soil Me

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“To be chosen is to be buried first. Let the bones be still, the breath surrendered, the name stripped from the tongue. Only then will He see her. Only then will He rise to meet her.”

—Sacred Text of the Hollow Bridegroom

They didn’t sing when they buried her.

Because Lenoria wasn’t dying… she was being consecrated.

The lace veil floated around her like a mist when she walked naked to the plot that was to be her resting site. Sister Silvia had painted the ancient symbols of souls onto her chest, and she pressed her hand against the spot as she stood before the women that she shared her short life with.

Sister Victoria wept, not from sorrow, but from a sickening pride when Lenoria tilted her face up to the moon with a smile on her crimson-painted lips.

“You are so calm, Little Star,” Victoria whispered, brushing the waist-length hair to rest in front of her shoulders. “Like you’ve done this before.”

“Maybe I have,” Lenoria said softly, her eyes moving down to stare at the open grave. “Maybe my soul has been with Him in a million lifetimes.”

That made Sister Victoria beam as she positioned herself beside her as Sister Silvia took her place to her right. Even though they were in their old age, they stood straight and proud beside the newest offering.

The circle of elders moved around them like shadows, creating solidarity in their matching black robes and bearing silver bowls of animal blood and woven offerings. It was rare to see them all together at the same time. They came out only for the true Brides.

Most girls were terrified and crying before being laid in the earth, but Lenoria had lived her whole twenty years for this moment.

“She walked without fear,” one of the younger sisters said.

“She was born for this,” another murmured, almost in awe. It would be her turn next year to bring honor and fortune to their people.

Lenoria stood still as everyone took turns touching her one last time.

They were reverent when their fingers brushed across her skin and tugged on her golden hair.

She’d fasted for three days, and her skin held a waxen glow beside the firelight that burned beyond her grave.

When they lowered the white shift over her bare form, she didn't flinch.

When they rubbed oils on her throat and wrists, she kept her hands folded, palms up.

She looked like a painting. A martyr sent to bring a second coming to the masses.

Exactly what they’d all hoped for.

“Have you chosen your name for Him?” Victoria asked gently. “When He rises to meet you, what will you call Him?”

“Isaac,” Lenoria answered without hesitation. “It’s the one He gave me in the dream.”

A few of the elders exchanged glances.

“That is the name of the outsider,” one warned, loudly as if his voice could carry its own pitchfork to claim the man she spoke of.

“It’s the name He gave, and I will know him,” Lenoria continued calmly as she looked at the elders. “Have faith that He has bestowed Himself upon me as I do.”

There was a hush after that.

Sister Silvia turned to kiss Lenoria’s temple. “Then it is time.”

Lenoria descended the carved wooden ladder herself. There was no coffin—no casket to take her in with open arms. Only the soil, because that is where they would be one.

Sister Victoria knelt at the edge, eyes darting over Lenoria as she lay herself on the earth as if they were the most precious of linens.

“When you reach the veil,” she said, “tell Him we are still faithful.”

Lenoria’s gray eyes narrowed as she smiled up at her. “I’ll tell Him I’m the only one who truly was.”

That earned a low laugh from the elders while Sister Victoria looked at her with something between surprise and… fear. Then, she stood to join the others as they formed a circle around the plot and readied their shovels.

Lenoria closed her eyes as the first scoop of dirt hit her thighs.

I’m coming, beloved. I’m ready.