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Spirit of the crimson voidSpirit of the crimson voidThey came for us as the sun languished and finally dipped between the burial mounds on the pot marked Western horizon. It had been one of the longest days I had known, waiting there in the Cedar lodge hall, even tho it was about to turn mid-Winter. I was not alone however. Five more of my age had been carefully picked from the countless that had been offered to the Council. Many were simply rejected on first sight, not living up to some unspoken knowledge that its elite coveted only amongst themselves. Others were sent away on some whimsical reason, often with just the slightest of gestures.Of the six of us that remained after the many months of choosing, four came from different villages of the surrounding countryside. But the last two were brothers, and even the oldest in the lands could not remember this ever being so. It was tradition that all were individually chosen from fields afar. The lands stretched all the way from the East and the Borderman along