My life is a small thing [Arrival; OTA]
Iphigenia felt the knife against her neck; felt its cold cruelty press against her suddenly. She lifted her head up, so Kalchas could get it over with. She was ready to die.
She didn't dare to glance at anyone, let alone her father. She didn't want to see anyone crying--that might cause her to have second thoughts. Iphigenia had given herself willingly to the goddess; a change of heart was likely to incur wrath of the divine variety.
But still. She could hear the wind blow, far away and light. What she was doing was right.
She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to Artemis, holding her breath.
And then--nothing. She opened her eyes, confused; she had at least expected some amount of pain to be involved. But she wasn't at Aulis anymore, apparently.
Iphigenia looked around, confused. She appeared to be on the streets of some strange town, a town she had never seen before in her short life. She stepped forward uncertainly, shaking a little, and touched her neck. No sign of a cut at all. How strange.
Yet again, she felt lost, just as lost as when she had first heard the demand for her blood. What was she to do? Was this the afterlife?
It certainly didn't seem particularly ethereal.
She didn't dare to glance at anyone, let alone her father. She didn't want to see anyone crying--that might cause her to have second thoughts. Iphigenia had given herself willingly to the goddess; a change of heart was likely to incur wrath of the divine variety.
But still. She could hear the wind blow, far away and light. What she was doing was right.
She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to Artemis, holding her breath.
And then--nothing. She opened her eyes, confused; she had at least expected some amount of pain to be involved. But she wasn't at Aulis anymore, apparently.
Iphigenia looked around, confused. She appeared to be on the streets of some strange town, a town she had never seen before in her short life. She stepped forward uncertainly, shaking a little, and touched her neck. No sign of a cut at all. How strange.
Yet again, she felt lost, just as lost as when she had first heard the demand for her blood. What was she to do? Was this the afterlife?
It certainly didn't seem particularly ethereal.