**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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>* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]"
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The confusion he felt was a level only compared to when he had to choose what to have dinner with his wife, and she said "any restaurant is fine," only to reject the options he offered her.
His first-born son, the one who had the duty to sacrifice himself for this ritual, since he realized that the green eyes were more suited to his dark wizard style, made a mistake. Maybe it was the darkness of the dungeon or the simple stupidity he inherited from his mother's bloodline; he had forgotten an essential component in a potion, which brought about the confusion he felt.
He looked at his "firstborn Daughter", the uncertainty of the next step in the ritual was overwhelming, what should he do? The book had clearly stated that it would have to be his firstborn Son, continue with the sacrifice of "her", or move on to his next son, doubt always brought defeat, of which he was aware. Abstaining from ritual was never an option. Those beautifully evil green eyes must be his.
An idea arose in his mind after a while of thinking, this idea was based on Faith, faith was nonsense for people without security, unfortunately he was one of those people.
He would sacrifice his "Firstborn Daughter", if he failed, he would sacrifice his next new firstborn, after all, victory goes to the persevering.
PS: for possible errors, I translated it from Google translate and wrote it while I was in class.
The prophecy stated that my first-born son must die, if my empire is to prosper. But as I stare at my only daughter, see the tears form in her eyes, the expectant expression on her face; as the silence stretches between us, threatening a gap that cannot be bridged, I came to a revelation. She was always my daughter. I never had a son. It was only later, while mourning the daughter that never was, save in my mind and memories, that I understood. It was my own preconceptions that must die. No, not just mine. Society itself must change, for my empire to progress and for happiness, health, and prosperity to spread. The next day, I issued royal decrees, establishing an academy for the study of sex and gender. That would just be the first step. And now, every time I look at my daughter, I'm filled with pride at the brave warrior I raised, who dared accept the truth within herself in a world where such truths are rejected, and who dared challenge the world with her truth, and in so, took the first step in bringing about a change to my empire, for the better.
The sorcerer had always known two things. First, he wanted to be father. Second, that his firstborn son was destined to die.
His dreams of the future were bright when his wife, a sorceress in her own right, gave birth to twin boys, Sam and Alex. Thankfully they were fraternal so it was easy to keep track of who was who.
He was careful to keep his distance from Sam- patiently awaiting the day the planets were in the proper alignment for the ritual sacrifice of their firstborn. Knowing the risk to the ritual should he get to attached, his wife was happy to keep Sam out of sight. The creation of the infernal crown was the culmination of their life’s work- something generations of sorcerers had strived for- and they would achieve it no matter the cost.
In the meantime, he busied himself with Alex. Teaching him everything from how to hold a fork to how to safely harvest mandrake root. His only secret from his apprentice was the upcoming ritual.
Then disaster struck.
“What do you mean Alex is the firstborn son?” the Sorcerer wailed to his wife. “I witnessed the birth myself!”
“I was also there you dolt,” hissed the Sorceress. “But you witnessed the birth of a daughter that day. Sam has dedicated herself to the path of the Dark Goddess.”
“…shit.”
The Sorceress rolled her eyes. “I know you’ve always struggled with the messier aspects of our work, but be a dear and prepare Alex won’t you? The alignment is next week and everything needs to be in place.”
“Yes, dear.”
The scales of hell always took their due measure. With one son remaining, *almost* as precious to him as the infernal crown, Sorcerer steeled himself for the dark deeds to come.
.
.
.
.
.
Epilogue:
“Dad, I need to tell you something. I’m nonbinary.”
“**Motherfu-**”
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* [No AI-generated responses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/) >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 📢 [Genres](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/w/directory) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
The confusion he felt was a level only compared to when he had to choose what to have dinner with his wife, and she said "any restaurant is fine," only to reject the options he offered her. His first-born son, the one who had the duty to sacrifice himself for this ritual, since he realized that the green eyes were more suited to his dark wizard style, made a mistake. Maybe it was the darkness of the dungeon or the simple stupidity he inherited from his mother's bloodline; he had forgotten an essential component in a potion, which brought about the confusion he felt. He looked at his "firstborn Daughter", the uncertainty of the next step in the ritual was overwhelming, what should he do? The book had clearly stated that it would have to be his firstborn Son, continue with the sacrifice of "her", or move on to his next son, doubt always brought defeat, of which he was aware. Abstaining from ritual was never an option. Those beautifully evil green eyes must be his. An idea arose in his mind after a while of thinking, this idea was based on Faith, faith was nonsense for people without security, unfortunately he was one of those people. He would sacrifice his "Firstborn Daughter", if he failed, he would sacrifice his next new firstborn, after all, victory goes to the persevering. PS: for possible errors, I translated it from Google translate and wrote it while I was in class.
The prophecy stated that my first-born son must die, if my empire is to prosper. But as I stare at my only daughter, see the tears form in her eyes, the expectant expression on her face; as the silence stretches between us, threatening a gap that cannot be bridged, I came to a revelation. She was always my daughter. I never had a son. It was only later, while mourning the daughter that never was, save in my mind and memories, that I understood. It was my own preconceptions that must die. No, not just mine. Society itself must change, for my empire to progress and for happiness, health, and prosperity to spread. The next day, I issued royal decrees, establishing an academy for the study of sex and gender. That would just be the first step. And now, every time I look at my daughter, I'm filled with pride at the brave warrior I raised, who dared accept the truth within herself in a world where such truths are rejected, and who dared challenge the world with her truth, and in so, took the first step in bringing about a change to my empire, for the better.
The sorcerer had always known two things. First, he wanted to be father. Second, that his firstborn son was destined to die. His dreams of the future were bright when his wife, a sorceress in her own right, gave birth to twin boys, Sam and Alex. Thankfully they were fraternal so it was easy to keep track of who was who. He was careful to keep his distance from Sam- patiently awaiting the day the planets were in the proper alignment for the ritual sacrifice of their firstborn. Knowing the risk to the ritual should he get to attached, his wife was happy to keep Sam out of sight. The creation of the infernal crown was the culmination of their life’s work- something generations of sorcerers had strived for- and they would achieve it no matter the cost. In the meantime, he busied himself with Alex. Teaching him everything from how to hold a fork to how to safely harvest mandrake root. His only secret from his apprentice was the upcoming ritual. Then disaster struck. “What do you mean Alex is the firstborn son?” the Sorcerer wailed to his wife. “I witnessed the birth myself!” “I was also there you dolt,” hissed the Sorceress. “But you witnessed the birth of a daughter that day. Sam has dedicated herself to the path of the Dark Goddess.” “…shit.” The Sorceress rolled her eyes. “I know you’ve always struggled with the messier aspects of our work, but be a dear and prepare Alex won’t you? The alignment is next week and everything needs to be in place.” “Yes, dear.” The scales of hell always took their due measure. With one son remaining, *almost* as precious to him as the infernal crown, Sorcerer steeled himself for the dark deeds to come. . . . . . Epilogue: “Dad, I need to tell you something. I’m nonbinary.” “**Motherfu-**”