Being cold and isolated was all Keith Ognailed had ever known since birth.
He had been abandoned by the Church of the Goddess of Providence, Avabohan. Four out of six council members had voted to cast him out—all because of the vision of a priestess. She was blind, with long silver hair, draped in a black gown embroidered with blood-red roses.
She approached the newborn, placed a hand on his forehead, and saw a vision that shook her to the core—a future that threatened the very goddess the church served.
"This child is a demon," she whispered. "He is the son of the demi-god Kral Ko Gen. He possesses too much free will. That alone could be the end of us all."
Silence overtook the room. The air thickened with unease. The followers began to tremble, haunted by possibilities—by what-ifs they dared not speak aloud.
One man stood, defiant.
"I'll handle the child myself, if that's what it takes," he said coldly. "All I hear are cowards whining about the future instead of facing it."
The head priest, silent until now, stepped forward and gently lifted the child from his cradle. Without a word, he turned and walked slowly out of the church.
Once alone, he spoke softly to the baby in his arms.
"You will hate us one day—and I wouldn't blame you. But when that time comes… we'll see what the world has made of you."
A pause.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I have to send you away. But you'll be cared for. Maybe nurtured into something good. Or maybe something worse. Whatever you become… your mother would be proud of you either way."
Tears streaked down the priest's face as he placed the baby gently on the back of a silver-backed travel horse.
"Take him north," he said to the steed. "Where the elves dwell. They'll care for him. And you—my old friend—run free once this is done. My time is almost up."
As the horse turned and galloped into the northern night, the priest collapsed to his knees, coughing violently. Black blood pooled in his palm.
"If any god can hear me…" he croaked, "…watch over that boy. Please."
He clutched his mouth as more black blood spilled between his fingers. He choked, hoping the pain would end quickly. His vision faded, and in his final moments, he saw a strange figure standing before him.
Blue horns curled atop the figure's head. He wore a blue tuxedo styled like a western nobleman. Calmly, he lifted the priest's body and laid it across the back of a skeletal hound. A portal opened—and the creature carried the priest's green soul into the unknown.
"No god will watch over that boy," the figure said, grinning. "But watching him grow will be… entertaining. Death will take a long time to catch him."
A sinister laugh echoed into the void as the watcher vanished, already amused by what was to come.