Bloody gardens of Sarn by Kurati_Chobanin





Wonder Child (Scion Origin Story) by Loate

For my eighth birthday, my parents gifted me an anatomy kit. It contained a scalpel, its blade razor sharp. It contained a small diagram of the various muscle groupings, interesting details highlighted in dark red runes. It contained a quantity of acids and crudely blown glass beakers, along with suggestions on tests to determine the various humors contained within different parts of the body.



They also gifted me a slave upon which to practice, a captured villager from the Karui isle.



She was an older woman, hair gray and knotted, wrinkles lining her weathered face. A series of tattoos adorned her arms and upper body, twisting tribal marks describing her lineage and birthright. I preserved them carefully when I took them off, scraping remnants of flesh away from the layer of skin, and then stretching the tanned hides on homemade frames until they dried, just as Mother taught.



The history of a people, written on life, extracted with death, mine to study whenever I desired. Oh, how my parents celebrated. Their beautiful, glorious child, already an advanced student of the haematological arts.



A perfect scion of Theopolis.



Other slaves followed, young and old alike, more gifts from Mother and Father. My thirst for knowledge was unquenchable, a ravenous hunger driving my every waking moment. I wished to understand, understand it all - the interplay of vein and artery, the delicate details of cartilage, the subtle whispers of nerves passing messages to brain.



It was one of the few things that could make me forget the nightmares.



Belly of the Beast Soundtrack Remix by eko1991





Marauder by doneplay





Atziri run in 2:18 by Tom94





If you'd like to submit your work to be considered in future news posts, just post it in the For my eighth birthday, my parents gifted me an anatomy kit. It contained a scalpel, its blade razor sharp. It contained a small diagram of the various muscle groupings, interesting details highlighted in dark red runes. It contained a quantity of acids and crudely blown glass beakers, along with suggestions on tests to determine the various humors contained within different parts of the body.They also gifted me a slave upon which to practice, a captured villager from the Karui isle.She was an older woman, hair gray and knotted, wrinkles lining her weathered face. A series of tattoos adorned her arms and upper body, twisting tribal marks describing her lineage and birthright. I preserved them carefully when I took them off, scraping remnants of flesh away from the layer of skin, and then stretching the tanned hides on homemade frames until they dried, just as Mother taught.The history of a people, written on life, extracted with death, mine to study whenever I desired. Oh, how my parents celebrated. Their beautiful, glorious child, already an advanced student of the haematological arts.A perfect scion of Theopolis.Other slaves followed, young and old alike, more gifts from Mother and Father. My thirst for knowledge was unquenchable, a ravenous hunger driving my every waking moment. I wished to understand, understand it all - the interplay of vein and artery, the delicate details of cartilage, the subtle whispers of nerves passing messages to brain.It was one of the few things that could make me forget the nightmares. Continue reading... If you'd like to submit your work to be considered in future news posts, just post it in the Community Showcase section on the forum.

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Bex_GGG

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