When the sun was high in the sky a man emerged from the forest running down the old path leading to the village. Prius knew that something was broken in his leg but he still pushed on, running as fast and best as he could.

His wet clothes sticking onto him were torn, wet, and bloodied with large wounds under them gushing blood. Out of breath and tired he felt as if the world around him was spinning yet despite that he still pushed through and kept running, praying to Venisia and the other patrons to give him the strength to keep going and get to the keep.

There surely the old master Janus would be able to help him. The former priest of Venisia, a healing man turned record keeper. He would surely help him up, fix him up and make him walk on his two feet again.

He wanted to live. He wanted to go and see his wife. To be a father. To raise a family. To grow old and wed his sons and daughters.

And above all else, he wanted to find his friend and ask him the one question that has been on his mind the entire time.

Why? Why did he do it? Had three of them not grown up together? Had they not been friends since childhood? Had they not adventured together? Had they not visited all the cities of the inner sea? Had they not drank for endless nights? Had they not fought back to back and tasted the wenches at the all brothels they could find? Had they not done it all?

"WHY?!" He kept repeating, again and again, gnashing his teeth so hard that they let almost started to break, blood flowing out of them. But there was no pain. When everything hurt so much that he couldn't tell a difference between what was what then he knew that he was in a bad shape.

He didn't know what kept him going. Was it love for his wife? The longing to see their child? Or the pure anger and hate he felt for his once best friend? Or the mix of both? Whatever it was it kept him alive and moving.

Perhaps it was his imagination, the lost blood, or the exhaustion and pain but he felt as if the ground was shaking a little.

At first, he truly thought that his mind was playing tricks on him but soon he was convinced that indeed he felt slight tremors in the ground.

Overwhelmed with happiness he nearly collapses to the ground as he knew what those tremors were.

Suddenly in the distance, from behind a hill emerged an armored man riding a powerful steed. It carried him with such speed and vigor that he wondered how the man even held onto it.

Cries of help and begging came out of his mouth yet they sounded muffled to him as if there was something in his ears. As the rider got closer, Prius managed to recognize him.

Even in his wretched state, even from such a distance he still managed to recognize the man.

Was this a dream? A hallucination? Or was he already dead? He didn't know, but the pain reassured him that it must be real.

He waved his arms at him and dragged himself forward yet his legs finally betrayed him. Falling to his knees laughing and crying, the world spinning more and more his vision getting hazy yet he was finally saved.

Saved by the eldest son of the Annatallia no less!

He stopped his steed mere meters before him. He looked up nearly blinded by the sun above them, but the shadow of the man and his horse protected him from the golden rays.

A hero. He thought.

How could he not be? Riding a powerful steed he was young and tall with wide shoulders. Covered in plated armor of bronze and iron. A spear of spotless steel he held in his hand with bow and arrows on his back. His face was spotlessly clean like a child's yet supported by a strong jaw. His pale grey eyes seemed to shine and contrast with his black hair that was now cut short.

He was Lucius Annatallia. The eldest son of the Crassus Annatallia, the lord of the Garldlan ridge keep and surrounding lands.

And he was everything Prius ever wanted to be. He was everything he ever dreamed of being. He wanted his son to grow into the man before him. He saw him jump from his horse and approach him his steps steady and quick.

He stood over him appearing even taller and larger than before, his shadow cast over him. He said something but Prius could not hear it.

Cries of begging came out of his mouth, to be helped, to be saved. He wanted to live, to see his child and wife, to drink at the inn, and taste the good honeyed meat of ducks and sheep. He wanted to go fish, with his friends again.

He could almost see the image in front of him he reached his hands towards it but the only thing he caught was the spear's shaft.

Everything seemed to have frozen around him and he heard a strange noise calling out to him.

"Why?"

He asked himself. The question forever stuck in his mind before everything went dark.

Lucius looked at the man before him. The fisherman's skin was deathly pale with dark blue veins bulging underneath. The red blood has now turned black, oozing from the many deep wounds he had. His clothes were so torn that he was basically walking naked. His leg was twisted and bent with a piece of bone sticking out of it. Making one wonder how he could even walk let alone travel such a distance. The dead man's eyes albeit lifeless were still open looking up at him asking that one question over and over again and again.

He stood there unmoving and silent. This wasn't the first time he has watched death take one's life. He watched his father kill and execute many bandits, thieves, and smugglers who tried to get into the empire through their land instead of the proper way like everybody else does. Neither was it the first time he has seen a disease spread through one's body. He has seen death serval times already.

Life out here was hard and from what he heard it was even harder outside the inner borders of the empire. Death was just too common of an occurrence to think too hard or deeply about.

Yet today it was different. Although he has seen death many times and even faced it himself once. None of those things could compare to what has happened right now.

For this was the first time he has taken someone's life with his own hands!

It was not an animal like a deer or rabbit that he would go and hunt. Nor was it a beast like a wolf or a bear that could threaten his life. Nor was it the Lurker that he so valiantly rode out to slay.

It was a man. A living person. A villager from his father's lands. A person he has sworn to protect. Did he have a family? A wife? A child?

All of these questions came down at his mind like an avalanche. Yet the one question in the dead man's eyes seemed to overrule them all.

Lucius of course knew the answer. There was no helping this poor lad. His body was in really bad shape. Bones were broken and sticking out of his body. The lurker's claws struck long and deep leaving behind horrible gashing wounds where flesh split open. Missing fingers and deep bite marks on his right hand would result in his hand being amputated.

Even if Janus and the others did manage to stitch him back together and heal some of his wounds he would be left crippled for life. But it was not the reason why he put the man out of his misery. If it was only that he would gladly take the man back and help him.

After all, even if crippled he would still be able to have a life. Have a wife and children. It would be hard if he did not deny that, but he would be alive. And anything was better than death, Lucius thought.

But still, none of that would be possible for this man. He had to put the man out of his misery. Not because of the wounds and broken bones. All of that could be fixed Lucius knew that. Even if it resulted in the man being a cripple.

But the poison from the Lurker has spread too much and too far in the fisherman's body. The pale skin, blue veins under it, and the black blood were all signs of strong poisoning. This combined with the broken bones and wounds left the man no chance of recovering.

It was for this reason he put the man out of his misery. He pulled the spear out and the fisherman's body fell down, lying at his feet still looking at him with those dead eyes, asking that one question left on its mind.

Lucius wished he could answer him. About why he killed him. About why he put him out of his misery. That his body was beyond saving. Broken and poisoned beyond repair.

But his words would fall on deaf ears. For the dead do not hear nor care what he has to say. What is done is done and there is nothing he can do to take it back.

Looking at the man he felt his stomach turning upside down. The contents of the last day's dinner wanting to come out. Luckily he managed to hold it in. He turned his head away and crouched down to close the man's eyes not daring to meet his dead fishermans gaze any longer.

He took a deep breath as he could not stay here for too long. He was sure his mother has already sent many guards to go after him and bring him back. The soldiers that were coming after him would surely find the body and bring it back with them.

He saddled on his horse urging it to go forward. The horse went around the man by serval meters not daring to come near it.

Even animals disliked death and anything to do with it.

When he was far away he turned around to look at the body one more time. Whatever doubts or thoughts he had would have to wait. For now, he had a monster to slay.

And so he entered the forest, his steed taking faster and faster towards the lake.