“One thing was for sure.

The Gods had forsaken them.

And the man that stood before them was a Champion.”

The ears of the maidens stood at attention as their focus was on their Village elder, Vlamir, who recanted the centuries-known tales of how the new world order came to be. Though slow, she was determined to escort this year’s partakers to the ritual. The old croon looked back at the interested eyes of the young adults behind him as he finished the tale.

Beasts

Gore

Death

Things that made most squeamish did nothing more than piqued their interest. Images of the mythical beings that the Village elder told tales of commanded all their attention.

“Long ago,” she began, “before the world fell into the darkness and the crimson moon ruled our nights, there was a time when only humans existed, protected by the now perished Gods.”

“But,” Vlamir continued, “the world changed. Darkness descended, and human beings were no longer superior. The transformation we now bear became our destiny. The tales of the past forgotten, overshadowed by the now.”

As the groups moved through the remnants of the fallen city, Vladmir ‘s voice carried on, weaving the narrative of the world that had since disappeared. His words were a poignant reminder that the journey to the ritual held a profound purpose.

As the girls listened, they couldn’t help but feel the weight of unwavering want grew heavier. They continued towards their destination to become the unknown, hoping the ritual might hold the key to their new lives.

Though the tales did not suggest it, less than one percent of the human population successfully transformed into beasts that night. Almost two hundred years later, the world adjusted to the new norm where the Beast ruled man-kind, and even now, when decades have passed, many questions remain unanswered.

Why did they change?

How did they change?

What caused the change?

What was there to come?

Every year, the blood moon became full. Oracles gathered and performed the blood pact on the participants. Those who saw this as an opportunity to change their lives were excited, while the despair of loss scared the rest.

To the less fortunate, this was their only chance to make it out of the trenches that human society forced on them. Growing up in poverty in the new world order was not for the lighthearted. The beasts were in control, meddling very little in human affairs, which caused a division between the haves and the have-nots as the wealthy continued exploiting the poor.

Stolen novel; please report.

As Vladimir continued, he introduced three distinct species that had come to be known in the new world: The Lykins, The Abyssliths, and the Scythians.

He described Lykins as beings that bore strong resemblances to wolves, their forms a blend of human and wolf characteristics, rumored to be beasts that stood on two feet and claws that could tear into anything. People called them the savages of the lands.

She spoke of the Abyssliths, creatures born from the ocean, humanoid in shape but scaled that glimmered in the blackest abyss. Everything that touched the ocean was their domain. Spawns of the sea were what people cursed.

Lastly, she narrated the tale of the Scythians. Avian beings with scaled wings and fangs so sharp they could skin anyone alive; the Demons of the skies were what many called them.

She concluded her tale with a solemn voice, “The world changed, the beast scattered to the seas, forest, and skies, making their own homes far away from human civilization as the rich took advantage of the desperate state left behind by the chaos that night cause.”

To the three women, the ritual marked an opportunity for the better. However, the story differed for the fortunate; abandoning their wealth and living out their days as a beast was off-putting. The only thing that enticed them was the immortality granted. Rumors had spread that those who changed lived longer than most, though never proven true.

With the story ending, excitement boiled in their stomach as they knew they might have a different fate. As they continued their journey through the fallen city, Valmir’s words lingered in their mind.

They took notice of the solemn faces making their way back home. Contrary to what most might believe, less than ten percent of attendants could make the change.

Though their feet ached from their five-day journey, they weren’t discouraged with a short distance remaining, they’d be closer to their dreams as the one thing that gave them hope in their dreadful lives was just a few more footsteps away,

To think that for twenty-two years they held their breaths and endured the pain for a moment that probably took less than five minutes, twenty-two years of humiliation, abuse, poverty, and pain, they’d each vowed to endure for this very moment. They held their tongue and endured the lashings for the sake of a fifty-fifty chance at another life.

Gossip of the life some lived after the undertaking circulated amongst the communities, once the ritual was completed, the participants were never seen again. Outsiders were not allowed within the specified territories and contact with the human world would cease upon accepting their new lives. They hoped the positive gossip was true, things orphans such as them would never be given in this world so unjust, even if they worked hard for twenty years.

Despite the discouraging statistics, they endured and pushed through for this exact day, the day they’d participate in the undertaking, and held out hope that they’d succeed in another opportunity to live. They remembered the first time they heard of the ritual from a random old lady one night.

The ritual marked an opportunity of a lifetime, where others would return to their homes; the less fortunate had nothing to return to but the streets. Following the Policies of the hell labeled an Orphanage, once one reached the age of twenty-two, they were no longer under the responsibility of the orphanage.

Those raised in orphanages had limited options after the ritual ended. Those who were unsuccessful would work their entire lives in a cycle of working to make ends meet.

The money the women saved was only sufficient to help keep them out of the doors of death, and even that was only possible if they lived below their means. Where most would eat up to three times a day, they ate once, walking instead of traveling despite the great distance and washing their clothes by a nearby river because the orphanage dared not buy electronics to ease their lives. Due to the poor conditions of the orphanage, as the oldest, they took up the task of providing for the younger kids, even going so far as giving the next oldest all their accumulated savings to watch after the kids after their departure.

They hoped the children of the orphanage would survive long enough to attain the same opportunity, so this was their only chance as they had no home or money to start over if they were not selected, so with only one goal in mind, they ventured forth, biting their lips, and enduring the pain of their swollen ankles.