Maarnakh limped off, looking down. He barely managed to advance through the forest, each step an excruciating pain for him. At last, the birch forest. Better die here than at the pond where all could see him. In a last effort he sat down and lay his jaw on the ground. There was a huge gash in his belly. That last fight had been too much. If only he hadn't seen these two stags bullying a fawn...nothing would have happened. Too late to change the past, though. There was no other solution but to wait, wait until death laid his cold hands on his heart.
'Maarnakh!'
A stag trotted up toward him, joyfully at first, until he saw the wound.
"No..." he breathed, "No, this can't be!"
No response.
"It's okay," he gasped, "It's nothing, I can heal it, I..."
He touched the lying deer. His body was stiff and cold.
"NO!" he bellowed, "MY SON! NO!"
Without further ado he raced through the trees, ignoring the others' strange look, until he reached the hill and the statue.
"Twin Gods!" he boomed, "I sent my son here so he could be safe! And you let him die! Are you proud of yourselves? Bastards! I hate you! I don't care if you curse me or anything, I'm not afraid of you! Bastards!"
Thunder rolled. A deep voice resounded inside his head.
"Eporax! We are indeed very sad for you and your son. We..."
"Shut up!"
"Please listen, Eporax..."
"Never! Maarnakh was all I had left, and God knows if I'll avenge him!"
"Please, you must..."
"Leave me! Never talk to me again! Get out of my life!"
With that he sprinted away, death to the Gods' supplications, locked inside his anger and his misery....



From now on I will be using the stag Eporax, a very dark and unlikeable character. Be prepared, and watch out for your fawns!