Every year, the islanders chose a maiden as the Seabride.
When I was chosen, I accepted the duty stoically. I didn’t want to be sacrificed, but it was a great honor. And had I refused, my family would have become outcasts. So I let them dress me in the veils and place me on the rock, and I waited for the inevitable.
A few hours later, a strange craft, round as a barrel, rose to the surface. A hatch opened, and I could see women inside. They all were the previous Seabrides.
“Get in loser,” one said. “We’re going home.”

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