Av-rahim

The soil covers your bare feet in a powdery gray dust like you've walked through an old fireplace that hasn't been cleaned in the days since the last sacrifice. There's enough wood to keep us warm through the coldest winter or burn heretics to any cold heart's content. This land is full of burnt offerings and lucky rams where it doesn't even take the word of god to sacrifice your child just the word of man, imperfect as the path you walk back from alone.

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