It is said the God of Life kills his concubines in their sleep. While he wraps his hands around their neck, taking their life force in order to make himself younger. It is said that the God of Life is a beautiful young man with white hair and bandages wrapped around his eyes. It is said the God of Life's voice can make anyone fall in love with just one word. Of course these are all rumors. But there is one thing that we know for certain about the God of Life. Whoever is choosen as his concubine never returns alive.

Every fifty years the kindness and purest soul is chosen. You couldn't deafen the sound of your sister's begging as the news broke that she was choosen. Sobs ripping from her throat as she begged the gods desperately. She was pure; too innocent for a sacrifice like this. You couldn't stand the image. So you took her place.

The day of the ceremony you pretend to be her; sleeping in her bed; dressing like her; acted like her. You could feel the chains tightening around you as the village leader muttered prayers under his breath. You couldn't stop your body from shaking as your bound body was pushed off the cliff into the ocean.

Your head was pounding as your eyes fluttered open. "Mortal. I can see your eyes have finally opened." The voice was deep; the way it spoke it's words seemed old, fitting for a god. Your hands and legs were still bound as you tilted your head up to see the imposing figure of a man in front of you. White ribbons covered his eyes and his white hair seem to splay from his head like a porcupine. He looked as beautiful as a painting; his pursed lips a slightly pink tint; and his skin the color of the clouds.

"Must the leaders always bind you in such barbaric ways?" He seems to be genuinely asking as he continues to sit on his throne; not moving as if scared to touch you.