Prologue

  “Get your ass back outside and kill that mutt or I'll beat it to death myself.” The words of his adoptive father Reld felt like a knife in Fontaine’s soul.

  “No! Please Mr. Somora, it's just a broken leg!” The boy couldn't help feeling dread at the very thought of what he was being ordered to do. He raised his hands towards the older man in a pleading motion, begging.

  “I-it’ll heal in a few months…”

  “That thing won't last the rest of the winter.” Said the man “It's just another mouth to feed.” Fontaine grabbed Reld by his cloak, desperate to change his mind.

  “He's helped us hunt so many times! Please don't make me do this! I'll do anythi-” Fontaine is silenced with a hard slap from the older man that leaves him on the floor, clutching his pale face.

  “Good children don't raise their voice at their fathers.” Reld said calmly, wiping his hand against his cloak as if the boy was diseased.

  The lard of a man stared down at Fontaine, his large frame towering over the skinny malnourished body infront of him, watching as tears of terror and sadness streamed down his face. This made him smile ever so slightly

  “Please… It's my fault he got hurt… “

  “Get up, and go.” Reld said to the boy gently, before he leaned down closer to him.

  “It's all your fault right?” The man asked, “Then you should take responsibility.”

  Fontaine could only look into his guardian's uncaring, unbothered eyes. ‘I can't change his mind… he won't listen to me.’ Fontaine thought to himself, unable to do anything except nod his head. He would do it himself. He wouldn’t let that sick fuck touch Zefil, he knew he would make his friends death slow, and giving that man any kind of satisfaction felt as if a dagger was being twisted in his gut.

  “Yes sir. You're right. Thank you for giving me this opportunity… I don't deserve you as a father.” Fontaine said as he slowly got to his feet, still clutching his face. He kept his head down, but he could still feel Reld’s piercing gaze burning into his back.

  “Don't be long.” The older man said gently. It took everything in Fontaine not to say anything else, the anger and sadness he felt threatened to make him snap at the man, and he already knew how that would end. The boy slowly made his way outside.

  As soon as he stepped out the door a cold wind assaulted his body. His small fur cloak and pants offered little protection from the freezing temperature. The winter season was especially terrible in Kalhastead, the continent farthest to the north. Then again no matter what season, snow always fell covering the land as if a blanket made of the purest wool was laid atop it. Fontaine was no stranger to the cold, he was born in Kalhastead and raised in the cabin he just stepped out of. Looking forward all he could see was the dark bark of ebony trees, the night sky, only illuminated by the moon and stars, the blanket of snow provided by Kalhastead, and a small dog house no bigger than a bar table for a single patron. Fontaine could feel the dread in his stomach like a large stone, threatening to force any contents inside out of him. His heart started to race, making him lightheaded. He took one small step after another slowly making his way to the dog house… Slowly making his way to the only companion he ever had.

  The few seconds it took the boy to cross the distance felt like years, he wished for decades more. Tears of sadness stained his cheek, the cold air causing them to freeze to his face. He was shaking, gods just stop fucking shaking! It took everything inside Fontaine to open the small door and gaze at a little dog. Its size was around a foot tall, a little more than a foot and a half in length, with thick brown fur, and a fluffy tail that wagged as it saw its owner. Fontaine couldn’t help but smile softly as he saw his friend.

  “Zefil.” He said gently reaching out to pet the creature, who couldn't help but to lap at his hand with its warm, wet tongue.

  Fontaine smiled, “Who's a good boy? You are!” He smiled despite the tears falling down his face, Zefil was one of the only things that ever brought him joy.

  “You are a good boy.” Zefil slowly crawled to Fontaine, letting out a small whine. Its back leg twisted unnaturally, some bone poking through the layers of muscle and skin, but it wouldn't let that stop it. Fontaine petted the dog gently as it licked the boy’s arm and hand.

  Fontaine felt guilt loom over him, his palms were sweating despite the cold temperature, and he couldn't stop quivering. It was his fault this happened. He chose to take his only friend hunting with him on a new path, and as a reward for their efforts the gods blessed them with a doe. The prize was grand but the cost was heavy. The more he thought about the incident, the more he thought about the sound Zefil made when his leg snapped from the struggle of their prey, the worse it made him feel. He held back a sob as he looked into the eyes of his companion, his friend.

  “Zef… I'm sorry. Fuck I’m sorry, its all my fault…I-I’m so so sorry…we shouldn’t have taken that new path!” Fontaine said gently pulling the dog closer to him, sharing his warmth with his furry friend, an act he believed most sacred in the unforgiving cold.

  He wanted to hold his friend like this to the end of time, he never wanted this to end. He cries… he cries like he never had before, his friend lapping at his face in an attempt to cheer up his master, unaware of what was to happen, unaware of the burden Fontaine was being forced to endure. The two of them share this moment together, but Fontaine knew what he had to do. If not for himself, then for Zefil. The boy drew his crude dagger from its hide sheath, the handle made of ebony wood, and the blade cut from stone, its length only three inches. Fontaine still shook as he attempted to calm his erratic heart rate with deep breaths.

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  “I can- *Pant* I can't breathe…” He felt as if he was going to be sick. He held his dagger tightly, and with all the strength he could muster he raised it to his only friend's throat. A second passed then another then another, the blade shook in his hands as tears fell from his face. He let out a sob and dug the blade into his friend’s neck. Zefil let out a yelp and started to violently convulse as blood poured from his wound. The boy held the dog tightly and finally was able to slit its throat, before whispering words of comfort as it thrashed in his arms.

  “I'm sorry, it's ok, it's ok, I know it hurts, but it's ok boy. You were the best friend I could have ever asked for… please forgive me…”

  The struggle only lasted for a few seconds as the thrashing became weaker and weaker with each moment, until Zefil was no longer moving. The dog looked at its master in the eyes like a scared child looking at its parent for help, hoping they'll chase away the monster lurking under their bed, gently licking the arm that held it still, until eventually even that stopped. Fontaine sat there with Zefil’s corpse in his arms. The only sound heard was the wind, and sobs of grief.

  Fontaine stayed in that dog house for what felt like an eternity, until his fingers were numb from the cold and his tear ducts ran dry. Zefil’s blood stained the boy’s hands and arms, a reminder of what he just did. Fontaine wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground at this moment, to be unfeeling, to be numb from the pain. Eventually he got back up, stepped out of the doghouse with his best friend in hand, and made his way back to the cabin. Stepping inside he felt warmth, his only reprieve from the cold. His adoptive father sat on a wooden chair staring at the boy and the limp corpse in his grasp.

  “I told you to be quick, you were out there for almost two hours. Haven't I taught you not to make me wait?” He asked with a slight undertone of annoyance.

  “Sorry.” Fontaine replied, the boy just stood there looking down with an exhausted look on his face. He just wanted to sleep and wake up somewhere better, somewhere far away from the cold and Reld.

  The older man ran a hand through his greasy blonde hair, a sharp contrast to Fontaine’s light brown, and stared at the boy before he got up and extended his hand, putting on a gentle smile.

  “Give it.” He ordered.

  “No.. please at least just let me-”

  “GIVE ME THE DOG!” Reld interrupted, with more malice in his tone, raising his hand in case he was refused again.

  Fontaine didn’t say anything he just slowly handed over Zefil’s corpse. The older man grabbed the dog by the scruff lowering his other hand.

  “Go sit at the table, you may eat tonight.” He said before he walked into the kitchen, leaving the boy alone in the room.

  The boy just sat there for a moment, he wasn't hungry after what he just did, but he knew better than to skip a meal especially with how rarely he was allowed to eat something filling, and he knew better than to disobey his guardian. Fontaine got up and slowly stumbled his way to the table before taking a seat.

  The kitchen was right behind where the boy was sitting, he turned his head allowing him to see Reld’s back while he was cooking tonight's meal. Unwashed stone pots littered the counter, and a small doe was on the opposite side, a reward from this afternoon's hunt, the same one that ultimately cost the life of his dog. Its hide is only halfway removed from its body. It was probably for tonight's meal, and the hide would be used for a blanket or clothes. No part would go to waste. Fontaine would have traded every little part of that animal if it meant his friend would be returned.

  Fontaine was too tired to cry, despite the emotions raging inside of him. He just stared off into the distance, his eyes not focusing on anything, he hadn't even realized the older man had sat a plate of some cooked meat in front of him until a voice snapped him awake.

  “Eat, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow. It'll be a long day.” Reld said calmly, still keeping a gentle smile on his face.

  The boy looked down at his plate, the meat was charred a little on the outside but he didn't mind. It was rare he'd get such a large portion, the aroma caused the boy to salivate, drops of saliva left his mouth and fell to the table. The sight and smell of something so angelic reignited the bonfire of hunger inside of him, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything like this in days. Fontaine was no stranger to hunger, but he had already abandoned everything else in sight at that moment. The only thing in the world right now was him and that cut of meat.

  Greedily he picked it up in his hands, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into the flesh, and force it down his throat to extinguish the raging flames of hunger inside him.

  That greed was replaced with fear as soon as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Manners boy.” said the older man, looking down at him with that smile still on his face. Fontaine wanted to kill him, to shove his dagger straight into that fat man's neck, and savor watching him choke on his own blood. Sadly Fontaine knew that he would be easily overpowered and most likely beaten, so he slowed his pace, and gently took a bite of the meat.

  One bite led to another, and another, it didn't quite taste like deer to him, but he was too hungry to care. He figured his mind must be playing tricks on him. Fontaine shoved piece after piece down his throat, never wanting the taste of something so grand to leave his mouth. Eventually only a small piece remained. Reld just looked at the boy contently, a small smile still remained on his face, and now Fontaine had one as

  well. He turned his head to meet his adoptive fathers gaze, “Thank you Mr. Somora.” He said, genuinely grateful despite everything the older man put him through. Grateful despite every slap, every insult, and even after what the man forced him to do to his only friend. He was full… he was happy.

  “The things I do to make you happy, you honestly don’t deserve it.” The older man sighed “That's just what it means to be a great father.” Reld said before the grin on his face grew a little more sinister.

  “But I figured you'd want to feel the warmth of that little mutt one last time.”

  Fontaine instantly felt uneasy as if something was terribly wrong, he gazed past his guardian, his eyes aimed towards the doe on the counter. Other than its hide, it was uncut… Not even a portion of flesh was removed from the animal.

  What had he just eaten? What had Reld meant? A sickening possibility popped into the boy's mind, threatening to empty his stomach of the meal he had just eaten. His heartbeat quickened, and his stomach churned with dread. He was going to vomit… Fontaine could only scream in his mind as he turned back to the single bite left on his plate. ‘No… No No No No No No!’

  It took the boy a few seconds before he could ask a single haunting question.

  “W-was that……. Zefil?”

  The man only had one response.

  “Every fragment has a purpose… casting any part away is a dishonor to the dead.”