Chapter 5: Daughters for the River

I called out by the river for a long time before finally seeing the water swirl, and after a moment, a figure rose from the current.

The river shimmered, and a girl emerged—wet hair plastered to her cheeks, eyes red from crying.

She was the first of the nine offerings—the river spirit called her Lily.

I remembered her—quiet, gentle, always the first to offer a kind word.

“Lily? You’re still alive?”

She nodded, her lips trembling. Relief and sorrow mixed on her face.

Lily lit up at the sight of me, her pale face crumpling into tears.

She rushed forward, grabbing my hands like a lifeline.

I was stunned and asked in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

She sobbed so hard she could barely speak. I squeezed her hands, trying to anchor her.

She sobbed, eyes blazing with hurt and resentment.

Each word was a struggle, but she forced them out, desperate to be heard.

When Nathaniel whisked me away, they weren’t so lucky.

They’d been left behind, vulnerable and alone, facing the wrath of the townsfolk.

One moment they were crying in their families’ arms, the next, because they stood on the river spirit’s side, their relatives cursed them.

The betrayal cut deeper than any wound. Home became hostile ground.

Lily’s family even led the beating, demanding why she sided with the demon.

She lifted her sleeve, showing bruises that hadn’t yet faded. My stomach twisted with anger.

Nothing they said made a dent.

If the river spirit hadn’t protected them, Lily and the others would probably have been beaten to death.

She shielded them with storms and shadows, hiding them from the worst of it.

But it didn’t end there. Lily said that after returning to the river spirit’s palace, they soon felt unwell.

It was like someone was choking them, pain and suffocation, almost dying.

They gasped for breath, clutching at their throats, terror in their eyes.

The river spirit checked and found someone had used their birth dates and personal items to cast a spell to take their lives.

The revelation chilled me. I’d heard of old superstitions, but this was something else.

Birth dates. Personal things. Stuff only your family would have.

It was just that their families, convinced their daughters were with demons and would harm the world, decided to strike first.

They’d turned on their own flesh and blood, convinced it was for the greater good.

“Sarah, why? Why would they do this?”

Her voice was barely a whisper, thick with heartbreak.

Lily thought I was dead, so seeing me again, she couldn’t help but pour out her heart to a fellow sufferer.

She clung to me, desperate for answers I didn’t have.

“They already gave up on us once, why do it again? Just because I’m a daughter, am I so worthless?”

Her words stuck with me, heavy as rocks in my gut.

I lowered my gaze, not knowing how to comfort Lily.

There was nothing I could say to make it right.

Since ancient times, sacrificing boys sparked outrage.

The double standard was as old as the river itself. Boys were protected, girls were given up.

But for girls, people were far more willing.

A daughter’s life was easier to surrender. Daddy’s girls weren’t always safe when family pride was on the line.

You only had to look at the records to see it.

The records didn’t lie—year after year, it was girls who vanished beneath the water.

They say they don’t know the river spirit’s gender, but isn’t it really because they think daughters are expendable?

I bit my lip, fury simmering under my skin. The truth was ugly, but it was the truth.

Maybe to many, offering a daughter is no different from auctioning off a pig or a cow at the county 4-H fair—it’s just a valuable sacrifice.

A transaction, not a tragedy.

If the sacrifice brings respect from others and the river spirit’s protection, it’s worth it.

As long as the river spirit kept the storms away, no price was too high.

If it were boys…

No, that’s impossible.

The thought was laughable. No one would ever suggest it.

People can’t even accept a female river spirit. How could they willingly offer boys?

Tradition was a fortress, and boys were the last line of defense.