PROLOGUE

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She was bathed in the most clearest
water she had ever laid her black orbs on. It was the rarest kind of water, the most pure of all waters. Even drinking water was muddier. The villagers, too have never seen such a sight. It was too holy for their ordinary eyes.

She was dried with the cleanest cloth by a group of five middle aged women. The soft towels rubbed her limbs and her skin glowed. Dirt that used to stick to her sun kissed skin was no longer visible. Another caressed her long raven black hair. For the first time in her nineteen years of existence she was touched with such care. That, too by another being. It was unfamiliar. She could not decipher her feelings. It was strange. Years of being frowned upon, criticised, alone for a mistake she had not committed. Out if the blue, she was treated like she was fragile even though she was not.

She did not give in to the sudden kindness that was shown to her. After all, she was their sacriface. In exchange they would get the most valued miracle, that for which they could kill for. Water.

Bride Of The WatergodGeschichten, die süchtig machen. Entdecke jetzt