We stood there in the rain, shivering. The rain was like little drops of icy fire on our skin, but we dared not move. To move, even the slightest bit, would mean instant death. The guards were all around us, watching closely with sharp eyes, just waiting for one of us to make a mistake. There were only three of us left. It was me, Similia, and a young boy I didn’t know. Each of us clutched a lit candle in our hands. And each of us prayed we wouldn’t have the last light out.

          I guess we must have made for a pretty funny picture if you happened to look down from the skies on us every night. About one hundred of us would stand there, all with our little flames. One by one, the lights would extinguish until only a single candle remained lit. No one knew what happened to this final candle-bearer, but we all knew it wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t as if anyone had told us this, but it was accepted as common knowledge.

          All children ages four to eighteen participated in the Ceremony. The Ceremony took place every night in the month of March, no exceptions. The King didn’t allow any exceptions. If it was raining, such as it was this night, he had his head sorcerer cast a waterproof spell over the flames. He wanted the city of Marchbanks to be one of the greatest in the world. I suppose I shouldn’t blame him for our situation. It wasn’t his fault that our people had neglected all the warnings of the soothsayer that the food would run out. And run out it had. The King’s counselors had finally advised him that population control was necessary. Since all the adults in our tiny kingdom of 250 were needed to work the farms and do the other jobs, the burden of death fell to us, the children.

          Similia and I were both 16. We had somehow managed to avoid the fate that befell so many others. She was a month younger than I was. We had been best friends since we were born, having lived next to each other all our lives. We had lost many of our friends to the light’s decision, including Similia’s younger sister Asala. Now, as my eyes met her frightened ones, I could only wonder if one of us was next.