The Beast catches you around your midsection.
It lifts you up high into the air, its claws digging deep into your flesh.
You cry out as your people did as their blood pours from your body and covers the Beast’s claws.
It makes you look into its cold, dead, eyes as it squeezes the very life out of your broken form.
The failure crushes your heart. Or is it the Beast’s death grip?
You can not believe that after everything, after all you’ve already lost, the Gods would still forsake you.
No, you hear a familiar voice say, the Gods reward your courage my child,
they will not curse you with the legend of a Warchild. You are my child, and I shall have you here, by my side.
Bored, the Beast throws you to the ground, leaving you to die.
You look up into the cobalt sky to see your people awaiting you beyond the hills you dare not travel.
Your Father awaits you, your Mother awaits you, we all await you brave child.

WARCHILD