Irene: Prologue

Crying child, like a lamb on the altar. A single bright light, flicker of a flame. A seedling that sprouted forth in the wrong season, soon to retreat beneath the earth. Newborn yet dying.

Doctor says "There's nothing we can do." Sometimes a little spark doesn't catch fire to the tinder. So sitting with the fawn in her arms, shallow breathing, Mother looks down. Such small hands wrapped around her finger, the last umbilical of life hanging on. Father's grip on her shoulder feels like some far away comfort of familiarity to the homesick. He stares into tiny blue eyes, barely open, fading fast. Father starts to speak, "I am so sorry. Little one.."

The door opens again. A new face, smiling, staring at the wilting babe. "Behold, the tragedy of life. But for one so young we offer opportunity. A second chance, but not without price." Mother's tear filled eyes turn hopeful, "We would give anything" Father confirms. The man paces closer, touching the child's head with tender greed. "The cost is not yours to give, but hers." Their questioning looks and confusion demand explanation. "We require a tithe. Six years of her life are ours."

Mother bending, Father consenting and the man taking precious grief into his arms with a promise of gold.