Our story takes place in a small village by the name of Darzrest in the eastern hills of Zard.
A young un-Borne named Fres is our hero, she's a young girl with red hair and pale skin, she is late for ritual night and must get ready.
"Dark ominous robes are on, sacrificial knife equipped, I'm hyped! Finally apart of the inner circle, I am all grown up." With everything in order she runs to ritual, bumping into every lightree she passes. "Sorry grandma, I know it's bad luck." She quips to the large statue of her grandmother Prinh "Savior of Zard".
When she makes it to ritual things seem off, she wasn't late enough to miss the child sacrificing ceremony. "Where is everyone?" She asks.
She enters the tent a foul rotten smell protrudes through her nostrils "Sed? My Master?"
She hears faint talking deeper in the tent, she scuddles through and peaks inside.
A group of 153 people surround the room. She slips in unnoticeably and takes her place in the back of the room. She feels as though it's finally her calling.
Sed, Priest of Borne takes their place on the speaking pedestal. "My putrid, you have come because we are in the midst of a war, our village is on the brink of extinction. Our race is faltering. We must improve." They have tears falling out of their sockets.
"Bring out the beast." Sed commands.
A Lardain, trying to shift out of its shackles, muzzled and bruised, its bright blue scales tinged green with blood.
"Slice open its stomach, I call upon my Mundra, Fres." Sed shouts
Fres steps up to the Lardain, it's large misshapen body. "You are an abomination; I hope I am not to give borne this season." She says coldly before slicing open its belly spilling its putrid expanding organs everywhere.
"Oh, great Sazdar God of Borne, we pray to you, give us a beast in our time of need. We have slain a Lardain for you, its innards spilling on the floor, yaqu'luk!" Sed prays.
Smoke emanates from the Lardains corpse, a visage of Sazdar pours through.
"This sacrifice I appreciate; you will have your beast. I have already chosen who shall borne it. THE GRANDAUGHTER OF SAVIOR PRINH!" He screams.
They all start cheering.
Fres is taken aback "I cannot, it will kill me!"
"You must." The room chants.
She leaves the tent and sits outside, the tents' pulsing entrance is relaxing, its flaps gaping like an open wound. "Why me?" She asks. "I don't deserve this." She smiles knowing that giving borne will kill her. "I'm fucked, only 16 and I'm dead."
Master Sed walks out. "I'm sorry." "I never knew he would pick you; your womb is too small, if you were borne like me, you'd be fine." They say calmly yet sad. "It's okay, Sed. It's not your fault. Just make sure the borne doesn't eat my corpse." With that she heads home and goes to bed, her family is off in war, she'll never get the chance to say goodbye.
