Her Father looked up at us, eyes boring into each of us in turn. “Go,” he said simply. And we did; who disobeys a god? Who disobeys a god who has just killed his firstborn daughter?
We left the grove. And what the gods did after that, we cannot say.
(EDIT: I kept writing after this; I'm at 2,134, and I must leave computer now. Also, have lost voice.)