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    It was a picturesque spot, his fathers final resting place.

    Maybe a twenty minute walk from Three Fields, along one of the dirt trails that wound their way through the farms that flanked the village.

    There was a hill there, one of many that graced the rolling grasslands and meadows of the frontier. It rose above the rest, but it was gentle. An easy walk over soft grass that wound its way through the many boulders that dotted the hill’s face.

    A tree was at its peak. A venerable oak, tall, stout, and thick of limb. He knew the tree well, having visited it many-a-time in the past.

    The hill was isolated and private, but provided enough open sightlines of the surrounding area that it was almost impossible to approach without getting spotted.

    It was where his father used to take him for a few hours each day on their varying trips to the village. While in recent years, ever since he had unlocked the use of his general skills, their visits had grown more infrequent, when he had been younger they’d often visited once a month or so.

    His lessons wouldn’t stop just for a simple trip into town, so every morning he had been carted out to the hill with the lonely tree, and he had listened and learned and trained as Father had taught him yet another intricacy of survival, or sword fighting, or any other facet he would need to acquire his skills.

    Before then, he’d lived here. Young enough that it was only hazy memories, but most of them were by this tree.

    Kaius kneeled in front of the gnarled oak, staring at the stone slab that now jutted out from the soil under its canopy. It was simple, but lovingly carved from the local stone. A rough block, stout enough to weather the indifference of time.

    Thick letters were carved deeply into its surface, equally as enduring.

    ‘Hastur. A father, survivor, and one of our own. Died as he lived, valiant and fearless.’

    Kaius stared at the words, a panicky clawing sob stabbing its way out of his chest as fat tears burned their way down his cheeks.

    He kneeled, and stared, as reality collapsed around him.

    It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. He’d done everything. Survived the impossible, seized victory from certain death, and attained forgotten power. Hells, he’d met with a god. Yet still, it mattered not. Father was dead and there was nothing he could do.

    The deep, crushing, weight of it all settled on him like a stone, making him fight for every breath.

    Porkchop let out a low, soothing rumble to his right, his bond-brother laying down next to him and providing what comfort he could. A rasping gasp left his throat, and Kaius threw his arms around his brother’s neck, weeping openly.

    “How could this be right, Porkchop? How could the gods take him from me, even after we have done their bidding. Where is the supposed fairness of the scales of fate? The good fortune to the victors? How could I have earned this, after everything we have done?” he begged, desperate for an answer.

    Porkchop let out another rumble, leaning deeply into him. “Death is a cruel master, Kaius. One that strikes down newborn babes and Patriarchs with the same uncaring swipe of its claws. There need not be sense to it, it simply is.” his bond-brother crooned, acknowledging the senseless pain of it all.

    Kaius sobbed, choking through a hiccup. “I knew… I knew the chances weren’t good. Not after the first few months. I’d hoped that Father had simply needed time to recover before he could come after me, but when he never returned… I knew, deep down. Still, I hoped. Hoped that we would stride into Three Fields, valiant and victorious. That Father would be waiting, pride, fury, and relief on his face. That he would embrace me, overwhelmed by my unexpected return, and that he would question me. That I could introduce you to him.” he murmured, his face buried into the snow white scruff that surrounded his brother’s neck.

    He squeezed tighter, fighting back the torrent of grief that beset him from all sides.

    “It’s just so cruel.” Kaius whispered. “How am I supposed to live? To continue, knowing that he is gone.”

    He pulled back, staring Porkchop in the eyes with a desperate expression. It was a genuine question. How in the hells could he push on, knowing that Father wouldn’t be there at the end of his journey?

    Porkchop’s gold-flecked-green eyes softened. “You need time, Kaius. The loss will always bite, but not always so keenly. In days and weeks and months, the crushing weight fades. The sadness retreats. Eventually, you will be able to remember the fond times, and cherish them, without them crushing you.”

    More thick tears welled up, blurring his vision, only for something warm and wet to slide across his face. Kaius froze.

    “Did you just lick me?” he asked, deeply confused. Porkchop had never done that.

    Porkchop chuffed. “I had to do something to snap you out of the spiral. It worked, didn’t it?”

    Kaius laughed, deep and with all of his chest, until his mirth bordered on mania.

    He hugged Porkchop once more, absentmindedly noticing the way the stumps of his fingers caught on his brother’s fur. “Thank you. I just don’t see a way out, a way to not feel so…defeated.”


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    “Like I said, it comes with time. There was a member of my den, a distant cousin, though as close as I had ever gotten to anyone before you. He taught me many things, and was a kindred spirit. I loved him, still do. One day, he went out on the hunt, pursuing some beast. He never returned. I still remember the day, how it felt like my heart would stop beating from the sheer agonising lethargy of the pain. How it felt like I had a gaping wound that would never heal. It did, eventually.” Porkchop said softly.

    Kaius paused. “I’m sorry, I never knew.”

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