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Miscreated
When it is your time to be born, your soul is plucked from the sea and set into the new body. Perhaps your soul is picked for a reason beyond your conceiving, perhaps it is merely the first orb that the hand finds. The truth is that it doesn't matter, nor is it your place to know. All that matters is that is you, it is here, and it is now. But you aren't... born. Not exactly. The foul hand that plucks you from the peaceful sea settles you into a bizarre body. It lies on a slab, made up of cold...
Fantasy