I first wrote this story for the Rainbow Crate winter anthology, and now I’m able to share it. Here’s a sneak peek, you can check out the full thing on Patreon.

In most places, eldest children wore the metaphorical burden of sacrifice with a begrudging sort of pride. But in the frostbitten woods of Savasby Peaks, the youngest children were true sacrifices, and pride was worn like a medal of honor. Not all children in this unforgiving stretch of mountains and snow were subject to such a fate, only those of a royal lineage. Or the closest thing a remote village had to such things.

Unfortunately for Epiphany Theriault, he made for the perfect gift to an unappeasable god. Undeniably royal, and full of star dust.

Epiphany sat tall upon his mount, an enormous dregtzal with a dappled gray coat that was so long, he could bury his arms up to his shoulders in its fur. The beast followed the others in the convoy with vague interest, traversing through the man-deep snow with ease. The thick wool of Epiphany’s cloak rubbed back and forth across his nose, and he longed to pull the fabric up over his eyes, to block out the blizzard and his impending end. Despite his family’s optimism, Epiphany had no reason to believe he’d survive this, especially when no other sacrificial lamb had.

Epiphany has known he would die young since he was old enough to understand truth and legend, lies and myth. He simply accepted it as fact then, more gracious and noble than any before him. He didn’t cry and shy away from his purpose when he was a child, and did his best not to now. He wiped away a few escaped tears before they could freeze onto his cheeks, then lifted his chin against the storm.

Epiphany assumed Gods loved the taste of fear, and he would not give Qoresis that satisfaction, only his life. And then his people would survive for another decade, feasting on his blood, flesh, and sinew the same as if they were God of the Mountain themself, slurping fat and provisions from his marrow, gold and knowledge from his cranium. He wondered if Qoresis had ever eaten a God’s Star before, and what the dust in his blood may glean for his people.