The Malformed Realm is an incarnation of hell in it's most abstractly horrifying form.
A single village of children think they are the only inhabitants beside the upper class society they provide sustenance to. The elements of nature are the gods th...
Grace watched Jonathan briskly walk away from her and towards the direction of the huts of the younger ones.
His steps seemed like a countdown too fast, an omen too ominous, a beginning too out of place.
She looked in his direction for a bit, then averted her eyes.
It hurt her. It hurt Grace to watch Jonathan break down on the inside. Even though she was having trouble with this feeling that was convincing her that this was the first time she had met him and talked to him. But her memories told her she had known him since childhood.
She put it aside, thinking it was another bad day and that everything happening around her was equivalent to nothing, which was eventually driving her towards insanity.
She sighed and looked down on the ground. A few strands of hair fell over her eyes. She used up the rest of the water in the pot to wash her face, then pulled her hair back into a loose short braid.
It was getting too hot to bear. They had to make an offering, or else the next produce would be severely affected.
"Most likely, due to Elbrus, the elements are cross with us," she began in a level voice and looked at the others sympathetically, with an equal amount of hurt in her eyes. "We need to do something to their appeasement." She knew it was hard to accept this, especially at such a time of loss. But it was what they had to do.
Sweaty faces, some stained with tears, looked at her and nodded back.
She feebly smiled and made her way back to her hut as did the others. Supplies had to be gathered. A sacrifice had to be made.
Every time they had to resort to this, terror struck her heart and she was sure it was the same with the others. It was the sinister way of the land. They were time and again reminded of their place. Of their minuscule presence. Their petty existence.
"Tch." It disgusted Grace. But to dream of a way out was fantasy. They were at the mercy of the elements. They always would be. To live happily was to keep obeying by the rules and ignoring all the ominous happenings that plagued this place. She often questioned herself, or so came to her mind at that moment, that was this the definition of happiness?
Her eyes opened wide and her thoughts stopped in an instant. She was in awe at herself. Her mind was like a storm which was uncoordinated. Her thoughts were all over the place. "What am I thinking?" She shrugged it off and resumed work. What was this strange feeling that convinced her of there being a kind of happiness other than what she had known for all her life? This land was doing something strange to her. But she won't let it get to her this easily. Breaking her from the inside? She scoffed. She was strong. If the elements thought she would fall victim to this psychotic attack, then they were wrong. They had to do better than this.
She paused for a moment, then sighed. She had gathered everything they needed to carry out the ritual. Ropes, branches, a knife, a red dye, the beheading stone and clarified butter.
She took another moment to calm her breathing, then took off outside again.
The heat was killing her. She couldn't stand it anymore. There were no winds whatsoever. The earth was all cracked.
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