Bashorun looks up,holding a sharp edge axe. He looks down at the innocent boy of about thirteen years old before him,his only son, to be sacrificed to appease the gods for the great calamity that has befall their village.

The preying eyes of the villagers surrounded him. He was their village head and he, only could perform the cleansing rite.

“Why?, of all, the gods had to request for my only son” He wondered loudly.

“Traditionally,It is called FATE. You cannot aid it but learn to accept it whenever it comes your way.” replied the high priest


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