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Bogdan. A strong name, as if God is your shield. It is said that your mother and father grew desperate trying to conceive you. A year of marriage and still no pregnancy, it was whispered that your mother was barren and that your father's line will end with him. Your father assured your mother, Vesna, that he will never leave her, even if she bore him no children, no sons. He was a man of his word, your father, but mother felt the dissapointment in his words. One day, when he was away, she snuck out of the house and village, for she made an oath to one of the Saints. Many women would've chosen one of the dozen fertility Saints of Western origin, but your mother, for all her desperation and doubts, was a brave woman.
She heard of a small altar atop of a barren hill, dedicated to <span class="mu-b">Saint Bogdan,</span> a warrior saint of local origin, said to have died with sword in hand defending his family hearth from devils and demons, removing a hundred vile heads before succumbing to his wounds. She made an oath to him, that she will walk barefoot to the top of the hill, get on her knees, pray to him and then return barefoot once again. All for a son. She set out during dawn, a few moments after her husband left for work. He came back to find an empty house and he looked all over, calling her name and searching. After raising the alarm in the whole village, she appeared during the dusk, her feet beaten black and blue, scratched bloody by torn and burned by the summer heated stones. She collapsed into the arms of your father, delirious and dead tired from the trip.
In a few weeks, her moon blood never came, in nine months, you were <span class="mu-b">born.</span>
