Chapter Text
For most of Sevaga’s life, the world consisted of the Cyclopes’ island. Even if there was more of the world, it would just be an endless ocean. The island was the only part worth living in. Everyday, his owner, Polyphemus, would lead them out for a few hours to graze and socialize. Sevaga rarely did the latter, but it was nice to have some sunlight. Polyphemus, of course, was not the only cyclops on the island; while the sheep talked, their owners would also have conversations.
After the sheep had had their breakfast and the Cyclopes had done enough gossiping, the one-eyed shepherds would lead their animals back to the caves. Then the Cyclopes would eat brunch; when this happened, the sheep got excited. That meant it would be time for the Great Sacrifice. A few lucky sheep would be led outside the cave and “sent to a better place”. The Cyclopes would then return with sheep-shaped meat, along with milk and cheese, and eat.
Yep, life on the island was pretty great.
Sevaga lived a carefree life, mainly helped by the fact that Polyphemus favored him. Whenever Sevaga was sad, Polyphemus would let him graze just a bit longer than usual. When nobody was listening, the cyclops would tell him just how much he loved Sevaga and silence. Sevaga stayed quiet; after all, his owner did say he liked silence.
Sevaga’s only concerns on the island were Savage and Soldier. Savage was about two months older than Soldier, and two years older than Sevaga. Savage was a boastful, loud sheep with ram horns that had been sharpened after years of fighting. He was always grumbling about not being chosen each day for the Great Sacrifice. Soldier, on the other hand, was quieter. He chose his words very carefully, and if he got mad enough those words would hit harder than one of the Cyclopes’ clubs. Anytime he spoke, he seemed to speak from experience, like he’d been on the island for sixty years rather than six. Sevaga could never figure out why Soldier stuck around with Savage; the two seemed like the exact opposite personality with only a shared fascination for the Great Sacrifice.
Sevaga was on the younger side of all the sheep, being just five; too young to be eligible to participate in the Great Sacrifice. One day, Savage approached Sevaga while the sheep were grazing in the fields. He spoke, “So, Sevy, how ya doing today? Are you finally well-rested after staying in the fields that much longer? You’re weak, you know that? You’re a weak little sheep, and you’ll never make it in the Great Sacrifice. Only the strong are chosen, after all,”
Like always, Sevaga ignored his comments. Savage liked to rant about nonsense, and so he’d wisely learned to disregard whatever delusions Savage had about the young ram. Today, Savage seemed particularly agitated. It seemed like he had finally lost his patience over not being chosen for the Sacrifice. According to Savage, a sheep had to fight to earn your way into the Sacrifice, and the theory had some plausibility to it. Serpent, a sheep who would not hesitate to kill, and Scarecrow, who could lure even the most cautious, were both chosen last month. Sevaga couldn’t understand why Savage was so eager; there were at least 600 sheep on the island, so he really had to stand out if he wanted to be chosen.
“Savage, don’t mess with him. You’ll be chosen today,” came a voice. The two sheep turned around and saw Soldier. Savage looked taken aback, and then suspicious. He sneered, “Oh, yeah? How do you know? You’re not Seer!”
Soldier just stood there. “You need to be a warrior to be chosen for the Sacrifice, right? Why not kill me instead of him? He’s too weak for the Cyclopes to consider you strong,”
Sevaga was confused. He couldn’t really believe that Soldier was going to let himself get killed by Savage. Apparently, Savage had the same reaction. The three just stood there, Sevaga watching intently, Savage considering the offer, and Soldier looking devoid of life. Then, Savage charged. The next few seconds were a blur, and nobody could tell what happened, but the fight ended with Soldier staring down at the limp body of Savage. Soldier then looked at Sevaga and told him, “That’s the only way he’ll be chosen for the Sacrifice. He’s not as strong as he thinks, and the Cyclopes pity the weak. Don’t worry, he’s not dead. Yet. The Great Sacrifice will finish the job.”
The last sentence made Sevaga nervous. What did Soldier mean when he said the Great Sacrifice would “finish the job”? Was he suggesting that the Sacrifice was actually a mass murdering and not a sweet voyage into the ocean like Polyphemus had told him? A loud shout rang out before Sevaga could consider this more, and the sheep all went inside for the Great Sacrifice. Soldier carried Savage on his back so that he’d get to participate.
“Savage shall be chosen for the Sacrifice today!” the eldest cyclops, Ogerontas, bellowed. A few more names were called, like Sunlight, Sorrow, and Spear. The twelve sheep chosen today were then led outside and the Sacrifice commenced. While it happened, Sevaga was thinking about what the Cyclopes were doing to the sheep. They couldn’t possibly be killing the sheep, could they? Sunlight had just given birth to three new lambs. They wouldn’t dare kill a new mother, would they?
As Sevaga was dealing with this revelation, a man and his friend were getting directions from a small being that loved an addictive fruit. The directions led right towards Polyphemus’ cave. This man, however, was not somebody. In fact, he was Nobody. And Nobody would change everything for Sevaga.