"That's six goats gone missing in a month," Father said, his arms crossed over his chest and brow drawn up in the expression Alvar and his brother had come to recognize as the one they got before a licking. "Is there something you're not telling me, Alvar?"

Alvar cringed at his father's realization, things were getting worse. His father suspected something was different about him, he just had no clue how different.

"Maybe Alvar has a secret girlfriend," Ashtar taunted, giddy over his older, more favored sibling getting in trouble instead of him. "And you realize if I were you, you'd already be getting a thrashing. But because you're father's first born and heir--"

"Enough!" Father snapped, smacking Ashtar across the face. "Let him explain himself first."

Ashtar whimpered, and sulked out of the room.

Alvar didn't desire his younger brother to pay for his sins. It wasn't Ashtar's fault Alvar's affliction emerged and ate a goat whenever it did.

If I didn't have to hold it in and hide it, it wouldn't control me whenever I transformed, Alvar thought. Maybe I need to tell Father. He will understand. He won't out me to the people for fear of losing his family. I've hidden this for too long. The beast is restless and tired of hiding inside, it needs space to roam and to hunt for more food than normal men can stomach.

Mother walked into the room at that moment. "Ashtar tells me you hit him," she said, glaring at Father.

"He deserved it, the stupid boy doesn't know when to shut up," Father snorted. "Alvar is his superior."

"I hear Alvar lost another goat," Mother said, looking at Alvar with annoyance. His mother was tall, with blue eyes and blonde hair, her grace and stature was that of a wealthy northern woman. Mother didn't like how Father had fallen from wealth during the economic depression, she'd grown to resent him and how they'd turned to goat herding in order to survive. "You're too easy on him, and too hard on Ashtar. Alvar is being lazy with our precious resources and yet you rebuke Ashtar."

"Father, Mother, I'm sorry about the goats," Alvar began, not sure how he would tell them. He opened his mouth, the words were on the tip of his tongue yet they did not wish to fall. This would change everything. They would hate him. He'd heard the stories. Stories his mother had told him since a child how the Cursed were the scourge of Axus.

Ashtar came back into the room, stomped up to Alvar and punched him in the stomach, whispering in Alvar's ear. "I know you're secret, and now they will know, and Father will despise you and love me."

Alvar groaned, and buckled over, closing his eyes tightly, but it was to no avail since he kept his Cursed locked inside. Deep inside him let out a growl and a pain set into his joints. His eyes opened as he cried out in pain, trying to keep the beast within him.

"Red eyes, Father! He has red eyes!" Ashtar shouted.

"No!" Mother screamed, she drew a knife from a chopping block in the kitchen and approached Alvar, the blade glistening, "Get out of my house or I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you Cursed demon!"

"Mother, please," Alvar groaned, kneeling over on the floor, but the beast was angry with him for keeping it locked away, it let out a roar that exited his lips. A sound so vile he was sure it would strike fear in anyone's heart.

"Be gone!" Father cried. "Be gone, Cursed spawn!"

Alvar ran from them, away from his house, and took on his Cursed form so he could fly.

*

They burned his Mother for carrying Cursed blood on the Tuesday following his discovery. Although Alvar had fled his family after their discovery of him, he'd still caught wind of the news from the local villagers.

The priests were still chanting, when Alvar hurriedly approached the execution, ready to change forms to save her if need be. He covered himself with a priest's black hood he'd stolen from the temple clothesline. The fire blazed as tall as the roof tops by the time he was close enough to see all that was left of his Mother was a charcoal corpse.

No. His heart sank into his gut. Alvar had arrived too late to the burning. Too late to ever tell her he was sorry and didn't ever expect her to love him for what he was, but desired her freedom nonetheless.

Alvar reviewed the crowd and noted his father not present, but Ashtar stood, gazing at the still crackling flames without expression on his face. As twins, Alvar felt out of body for a moment, what if the roles had been reversed? What if Ashtar had taken to the Curse and it was Alvar doing nothing while they'd tied Mother up to the searing hot metal pole to burn?

He would not have stood there.

That was the difference between Ashtar and Alvar. Ashtar never questioned any practice common to the people. He went with the group decisions as if they were always right.

"It's him, the Cursed!"

Alvar jumped in his skin, someone had recognized him! He noted that the one whom recognized him was an old friend in the village, Moly.

The reality that there were no friends now hit him like a slap in the face. No friends, no family... he was cut off from his race. What would he do? How could he hide this without hurting anyone?

"I'll kill you!" Ashtar shouted in Alvar's direction, "Isn't it bad enough that you killed our mother?"

"I didn't kill mother! You all killed mother!" Alvar shouted, shaking his head, but a knot in his gut formed. I killed mother.

"Be gone, Cursed scum!" Villagers started shouting, spitting, and throwing anything they could pick up at him.

The priests began their chanting, trying to drive him from their midst. "May the gods destroy you!" they said. "May your Curse die with you!"

There was no pity, no one reaching out to him. Just anger, fear, and hate.

"Kill it before it becomes grown!"

"Burn it next to the devil that bore him!"

"I will not hurt any of you!" Alvar assured them, holding up his hands and practically begging. "You are my people!"

"How dare you say that!" Moly's mother shouted, clutching Moly by the arm. "You have never been human, nor will you ever! You great pretender! Leave us before you bring destruction upon us!"

Alvar had no choice, as villagers drew their swords, he took on his Cursed form, but instead of flying away he dove into the pyre and grasped the corpse of his mother in his claws.

"I will bury her, if you won't!" Alvar roared at the crowds.

"And I'll spit on 'er grave!" shouted Ashtar. The words were meant to save face most likely, to keep the villagers from burning him too.

Alvar flew from them. He'd make sure to bury her on a high mountain where none could spit on nor tread on her.

She didnt love me, but she was still the woman that had carried and given birth to me and I will honor her by providing a proper grave. Then I will leave this place. Go to the south, where none know my face or what I am.

Alvar's Past - Saul

"You'd better pay for that!" the bread seller growled. "I don't run a charity here. Things are bad enough in this economy without filthy street boy thieves pinching the wares."

"I'm sorry, sir," Alvar rushed, thinking on his feet. "I'm afraid I don't have any money. I'll work for it. I'll--"

"There is no need," a voice interrupted him, and Alvar watched as a tall, handsome black-haired man approached them. "I will pay for the boy's lunch." The man was dressed in white and red, rich and clean colors. This wasn't an insignificant person. A lord, perhaps, and he was helping Alvar.

Alvar thought of objecting, but his empty stomach ached, and an empty stomach promoted a spontaneous shift into his accursed form which would eat something for him if he neglected to eat. "Thank you, --?"

"Lord Saul," the man smiled at him and extended a hand. "And your name is?"

"Alvar," Alvar said, meeting Saul's handshake. "I'm most grateful for--"

"No need to grovel, Alvar," Saul chuckled. "I'm glad to help you." He motioned for Alvar to follow him. "Come with me, boy. You look starved. I have more than bread for a poor orphan like you. Tis a shame Axus is plagued by an epidemic of fatherlessness in every city."

I'm not an orphan, but perhaps it's best he thinks that... Alvar thought.

"After we eat with you I'll have my servants prepare you a bath and some clean clothes," Saul said as they entered a gate into a large courtyard of a grand house.

"We?" Alvar asked.

"My wife and I," Saul informed him.

Alvar paused in the doorway of the house. "Yes, but may I ask you something, sir?"

"Of course," Saul cocked his head, but didn't stop his pleasant attitude at Alvar's suspicious tone.

"Why would you take in a street boy thief?"

"Because, someone needs to make a difference," Saul said, placing a hand on Alvar's shoulder. "If I'd been born in your circumstances I'd be stealing and dirty just like you."

"You are very kind then, aren't you?" Alvar found himself smiling for the first in a year.

"Come, Alvar, I'll see you looking like a young lord yet, I promise," Saul said, nodding his head inside the door.

*

Alvar sunk down into the warmth of the tub and let out a long breath. He'd never been in such a wondrous room or felt the exquisite feeling of warm water soothing his aching muscles. The home, large as a small palace, held artwork, architecture, and trimmings that cost fortunes. Saul obviously was successful beyond the normal men in Underlund.

Underlund. The southernmost country of men in Axus. Underlund was made up of jungle, rivers, and brilliant beaches on a warm ocean. So different than the northern country he'd fled from. He loved the country. Of all the sights he'd seen traveling southward, this place had attached itself to him above all the rest. What made it even better was that no one knew of him here.

He closed his eyes and remembered the dinner they'd had. Roast venison. How the meat had melted in his mouth.

Saul had told him of his young years as a knight for the king of Underlund, Umar.

"Umar gave me a title and enough coin to keep me fed the rest of my life."

"Why?" Alvar had asked.

"Because I saved his son in the battle against Ferar," Saul stated proudly. "The boy (his son) was nothing but talk, and when a gobli sentry charged him he froze with fear. He'd never seen a gobli before. I don't know if you've ever seen a gobli?"

"No, sir."

"I'd be surprised, they rarely come above ground," Saul continued. "But they are vile looking creatures. I lopped off the head of the sentry before it took the prince's head."

Saul's wife had been an oddity. A beautiful, quiet woman who wore pendants and amulets on her neck. Her hair, a deep red, had bones braided into it. She hadn't spoken a single word the entire meal, but after it was over she'd smiled at him and said, "I believe you have a good heart. A better heart than any lord I've met." Then she'd left them.

Saul had invited Alvar to stay the night in their guest house.

Although he wished to stay in the quietness of the tub forever, Alvar rose from the tub and dressed in the Underlund robes provided. Underlund clothes were much loser fitting than the trousers and wool sweaters he'd worn as a goatherd in the north. He left the bathing room and found Saul sitting in the courtyard.

"Is that you, Alvar?" Saul asked. "I hardly recognize you! My, my! Are all lads from the north so devilishly handsome? I'll have to keep my wife locked inside her room for the rest of your stay."

Alvar couldn't help, but grow uncomfortable and yet flattered by the compliment, but his elation took a dive when it dawned on him that Saul and his wife would despise him if they knew the affliction he was under. 

The Curse. It follows me wherever I go. That's why I shall make sure these good people never know of it.