**The Holy Goddess**
This is the story of a mystical tribal society hidden deep within Scotland. While we often talk about tribal communities, we sometimes overlook certain aspects of their lives. Some stories reveal pain, others speak of truth, some tell of hatred, while others herald the arrival of hope hidden within the flames. In some tales, innocent girls are sacrificed, their lives offered up. These stories have become intertwined with our own, yet the oldest civilization, the 'Thornmire' tribe, remains known for its unique customs and rituals.
This tribe resides in the heart of Scotland's 'Echoni' forest, isolated from the rest of the world, living by their own ways. They cultivate crops, fish in their ponds, and build their own homes. It is a self-sufficient society, but at the heart of it all is their goddess, the Mother of the Earth. **'Vasha,'** the Goddess of Power and Victory, is the sole deity they worship, and in this society, it is women who are revered.
Vasha is mentioned in their ancient texts, the **Vashaanka.** These scriptures describe her as a goddess with hands stained in blood, her eyes burning red, holding the heart of a vanquished enemy in one hand and his eyes in the other. She wears no clothing, only a few pieces of jewelry that barely cover her form. This vivid image of Vasha is a symbol of the tribe's fierce devotion and their reverence for the power of the feminine.
In the center of the village, there stands a massive statue of the goddess. Though women are not worshiped here, this deity, this statue, commands the village's devotion. The society has become deeply patriarchal and hostile toward women, to the point where girls are often killed for seeking something as simple as freedom.
In this community, girls are relegated to household chores, and widows and orphaned girls are treated as property by the entire village. Though not called sex workers, their role is disturbingly similar, leading many to end their own lives in despair.
Every night, a ritual is performed at the village square in worship of Goddess Vasha. A large sacrificial sword, taken from the body of a sacrificed goat, is used in the ritual. Only boys and men are allowed to participate in the proceedings; they sing in their native language, circling the statue as they wave the sword and dance in a trance-like state.
So, let us witness tonight's terrifying and starkly real event, where the story begins with the entire community gathered around the statue under the cover of darkness.
Everyone sat around Mother Vasha, the sky tinged orange as it was the time of dusk. All present were men, except for one woman who sat with her face covered and her body trembling with fear. Her eyes pleaded for help, but she was surrounded by men who worshiped the goddess Vasha yet treated the woman like a lifeless doll devoid of emotions. Behind them stood their huts, housing nearly every man from the village, except for boys under the age of fifteen. The men wore red cloth below and white cloth above.
One man stood up, holding a book titled *Vashaanka*, their holy scripture, and began to speak.
"Speak the prophecy, for on that night, their wrath will overflow when the white cloth and the red cloth unite, bringing them to the brink of destruction. On that day, she will reveal her true form."
Everyone nodded in agreement. The old man resumed speaking in his strange voice, "Her crime is that she wanted to leave Thornmire and go to another village in Echoni forest. The punishment for this is death."
Once again, everyone nodded in agreement. But suddenly, something happened to the statue of Mother Vasha, and it broke.
No one could speak; they wondered if this was a bad omen or something even worse.
A boy suddenly shouted, "The statue broke because of this girl! Kill her quickly!"
Then something happened—it became night, and a deep silence fell, as if death was imminent. A bright light flashed, and then she appeared.
All the men were terrified. The sky turned blood-red, and where the statue once stood, a girl appeared. Her long, dark hair flowed down to her knees, wild and disheveled. Her entire body was stained the color of blood. In one hand, she held a sickle, its blade smeared with crimson, and in the other, a massive sword, also dripping with blood. She wore no clothes, only covering her breasts with snake skin and her lower body, from waist to knees, with a lion's pelt. Her eyes burned with nothing but death and fury. She was the goddess Vasha.
Suddenly, all the women of the village, from the oldest to the youngest, came out and surrounded the men. All man,It was as if they all wanted to speak, but no sound came from their mouths.
"Don’t bother trying. You steal souls, so don’t worry about losing your voice," said Goddess Vasha. The women's eyes turned blood-red, and their faces were devoid of any emotion.
The women began to move in a circle around her, their arms outstretched, almost like they were dancing, completely unbothered by everything around them.
Then Vasha spoke, her voice sharp and filled with anger, "You men have destroyed your ancestors, dishonored our culture. What have you taught your children? Women bear more pain, they give life to all. It's true that men and women are equally needed in this world, yet you have created a hierarchy. You are neither the end nor the beginning! If you provoke pain, you will receive pain. If you put your hand in the fire, you will be burned."
The girl for whom the gathering was called, the one they intended to sentence to death, had vanished. "The one you were going to punish is me. You defiled our sacred Vashaanka text, spreading lies. I am a goddess, I am divine, and yet, unlike you, I was not granted a human birth. You are fortunate to be born human, but you have misused that gift. Justice will be served to everyone!" she said, her voice filled with intense anger.
"You turned women into objects, forcing them into prostitution, and even abused innocent children. Now, the same fate you inflicted on others will befall you. Those you condemned to death will now bring death to you," she declared.
At that moment, each woman was suddenly armed with a large sword.
"Go, my daughters, claim justice. For even in death, I will remain."
In the final scene, the goddess sat on a throne made from the skin of the men and adorned with a necklace of their bones. Blood was everywhere, and the women danced around her. Everything was finished.