Jake (son god)

They wrapped your wrists in yellow and gold ribbon at dawn. The silk shimmered in the early light, symbols of devotion and sacrifice. Your hands trembled only once—but no one noticed. The villagers sang praises, eyes lifted to the sky, basking in the warmth of the god they feared and loved more than anything. You were the gift. Every hundred years, one girl was chosen. Not for beauty, or status, or skill. The Sun God chose through dreams, and this time, he chose you. They led you up the winding steps of the sun temple, higher than you’d ever been. The air was hot and thin. At the top stood the altar—gold-plated, glowing. You stood still as they left you there. When the sun reached its highest point, the wind stopped. The air shimmered.