"Vern, wake up!"

I squeezed my eyes, ignoring the hoarse voice. 

"Pa, not now!" I grunted, turning over.

The drafts were bastards slithering into the cabin. I curled up and tightened my grip on the tattered quilt. However, a tantalizing aroma enthralled my nostrils. It agitated the sharp pangs that resided in my stomach for a day and a half.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes while sniffing the air. Drool oozed out from the corners of my scarred lips. As the blur faded, I gasped.

"Is that... meat?"

"Yup!" Pa chuckled.

I could hardly believe what I discovered on the chipped, earthen plate. Staring at the glistening cuts of charred flesh in the flickering candlelight was more captivating than witnessing a sunset in the fabled capital.

I gazed at him, jaws agape.

"A promise is a promise, Vern. There's plenty for the both of us."

It's been a year... already. Huh!

For twelve grueling months, we'd nibble at mold-ridden bread accompanied by rotting cheese. Not to mention the only drink at our disposal was a murky fluid, which I'd loathe to call water. But once a winter, when my father would devote our funds to a sliver of luxury, we could sink our teeth into salty slices of lamb.

"There'd been a snowstorm on the way back," he sighed. "I wish I could come back to ya faster."

"Don't worry, Pa. You did it for me, after all."

He shot me a brief smirk.

We gobbled up the tender portions of meat and sucked the juices off our fingers. The pangs receded as we licked the plate clean, along with the torment of the chilling draughts.

Knock!

Knock, knock, knock!

The knocks were sharp, with a hint of impatience.

"Oh, it must be them."

"Who?" I asked Pa.

Knock, knock, knock!

He didn't answer me. Pa left for the door, lifted the latch, and pulled it open.

A trio of hooded figures slammed the door open as they barged into the clammy cabin, pushing Pa aside. The leader of the trio, cloaked in black, gestured to the ones in gray, and they nodded.

Cultists? Three of them? Why the hell are they here? We've never involved ourselves in their shady dealings!

The pair approached me. I crawled back until my spine pressed against the wall. 

"What do you want with me?"

One of them grabbed my neck and forced me to lie flat on my chest. I sent a flurry of kicks and punches, but the figure absorbed them without budging. I hustled a bit until I succumbed to the force of the excruciating grip.

"Hey! Lemme go!" I said, squirming in the clutch of the hooded scoundrel.

The other gray wretch grasped my hands, tying them up, and proceeded to perform the same with my legs.

"Pa! Help!"

He remained silent.

"Pa!"

The leader extracted a pouch and stuffed it in Pa's hand. He untied the knot and peered into the bag.

"Oy, there's six! Only six freakin' gold Targan!" he rasped. "I thought we had a deal of twelve!"

"A dozen only if you'd deliver the offering to us. You didn't calculate the risk of us traveling to our damn crap of a shack, now, did you?"

"But-"

The cultist stopped Pa with a wicked blow. He coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Pa!" I screamed, "You damn bastard!"

"Keep the reward, and shut your yap. An ingrate shouldn't be tolerated any further. You should feel privileged that our leader let you join."

Pa seethed, glaring at the man.

"Watch your tongue, child. And what kind of fool cares so much about such a mongrel who treasures a couple of Targan over a soul?"

I didn't have an answer. Rivulets of tears gushed down my cheek as I panted. Was I actually being sold off, and that too to a cult? Or was I affected by the injury to the man who was the light in my life?

I couldn't digest the truth from what danced in front of me. I wished I could regard this incident as an illusion, but betraying my eyes would be a far more heinous sin.

"Pa… ? How could you?" I whimpered, but deep inside, I was craving to let loose a bawl. However, as my throat dried up, so did my will to resist.

"Vern, this would be better for both of us," he said with a stern face. "I would never sell my own son off, ever. Raisin' you was a pain in the neck." 

He paused, catching his breath.

"It'd be the best if you finally came to be of any use at all, my dear bastard."

I closed my eyes briefly in disbelief and opened them, embracing the truth.

The man in black crouched and patted my head.

"It's a pity to see someone like you become a sacrifice. But none can escape the twisted hand of fate."

He rose and plodded towards the entrance. 

"Don't forget to gag the offering." The leader said as he stopped, "It'd be unpleasant to hear any whining from him."

The taller of the two gray men lifted me and slung me over his shoulder like a sac full of bones.

"And Gaven, don't forget about the ritual tomorrow. Meet my men at the abandoned tower."

"The one on the southern outskirts of the capital?" the traitor asked.

"Yes, and be there at sunset."

"Sure, sure, I will."

The cultists snatched me from my home, my sanctuary. A flame burned deep inside, like a wildfire, thriving across the forest of my mind. It consumed all, sparing apathy and an insurmountable surge of wrath. However, incredulity emerged from the hidden depths of the soul, extinguishing the blaze that had burned.

As we departed, I glanced one last time at the cabin as it faded into the distance. The moon was a crimson sickle in the starless sky, a witness to the treachery. It bade me farewell as I ventured into the dark depths of the woods with the trio.