The sun beams down harshly upon the bloodied terrain. Several youth rush to the weapons scattered around the crumbling buildings. A sword on the ground, an axe embedded in the wall, all are swiftly taken.

The village of brackenbriar has a sacrificial ritual - made every sixth year - in which twenty one young adults are “elected.” Aged sixteen through twenty seven, the “elects” are forced to fight for their life in the old castle ruins until there is only one left. Stories are told of the monsters that roam the decrepit halls, but there is a secret to the ritual.

Ancient, wrathful spirits from a long forgotten war roam the halls as well. During the ritual, the spirits are able to possess the bodies of the elect and continue their centuries old fued. This fact is known only to the village elders, all of whom are survivors of past rituals. These elders hand pick the elects each year, selecting the fit and powerful so that the vengeful spirits may be appeased.

The elected are not told this until they are deposited at the ruins.

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The voice shouted a warning to

‘Watch out!’

I duck in an instant. A spear hisses violently over my head, where my vitals had been just a moment ago.

‘Stay alive.’ The voice spoke once again

I run to where the spear landed, grab it, and run as fast as I can to a ruined parapet.

‘What is this voice?’ I think to myself.

‘I am horn. I am one of the spirits that dwells here, and this is the land I once ruled.’