Prologue

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    The woman ran out of her hut, she had seen the girl. She was sure it was her. It had to be her. It had been too long. She raced over to the little girl, probably six years old. 

                             To sacrifice, to serve, to give everything for nothing, to restore what once existed. This little girl would have that weighing on her shoulders. 

        The woman began to recite the verse,  "Thoir seachad airson draoidheachd a bhith air athbhreith." She hesitated, the burden this young child would carry was so great, so terrible, so selfless, yet not chosen.  But this is what needed to happen. She placed her hand on  the girls shoulder, and the bomb went off. 

   

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