It was a cold night and he still had yet to finish everything he was to do for the day. After finishing with the wood chopping which they didn't need he sighed and sat down for a second to catch his breath. He knew he couldn't sit for long because if his father saw that he was resting instead of working there would be dire consequences and he could not go another day without food or sleep.

He was refused food two days ago when he had fallen out of exhaustion during one of his chores and had not been allowed to eat since then. Being careful not to make any noise he picked up the firewood and started stacking it. Once more the chill of the night flew by him and slowed down his work by sending chills to his already cold body.

He was now inside his not to much warmer house and suddenly got the urge to sneeze and it was then he knew he was in trouble. The second he sneezed his hands went to his face and he dropped the stack of wood he was carrying. The small pieces fell onto the floor and make a loud thud as they landed. He quickly went to pick them up but it was too late.

"What in the hell are you doing down there you fucking bastard?!" came the voice from upstairs. A loud creak came from where his father got off his bed, a loud thud as his feet landed on the ground then the groan of the stairs as he came downstairs.

"Uh nothing sir, I just dropped it is all," the boy replied. He was but eight and was tiny compared to his father who now towered over him.

"You clumsy fool!" his father shouted and with one swift kick he was knocked backwards as the big man's foot connected with his ribs. He fell backwards and hit the wall of the house and crumpled to the ground. His father walked over to him and picked him up by his hair and dragged him over to the fallen firewood.

"Pick this shit up now! Get your ass up and finish your god damn chores!" he shouted and with one last kick to the ribs he walked back upstairs. When he heard the door slam he got to his feet holding where his ribs had been kicked. It wasn't anything new from what he got before and somehow he had gotten used to it. Bending down to pick up the pieces of wood though became a chore all in itself.

He soon finished stacking all the firewood and strangely heard the groan of the stairs once more. It must be his father checking up on him once more. He quickly dusted himself off, ran to the end of the stairs and stood at attention. He had been doing this for as long as he remembered, his father told him it prepared him to be a soldier.

From the way he was walking down the stairs it seemed that once more his father had been drinking. His hair was every which way and looked extremely unkempt. His walk was that of a mad who had drunken more then his full of rum. Even from the top of the stairs he could smell his foal breath and when he started to talk it took everything in the young boy not to collapse.

"Are you still here? I told you to get the fuck out of my house!" he screamed and started mumbling. The boy looked around seeing that there was no one else there and assumed that his father was talking to him.

"I uh finished stacking the firewood sir," he said but his father seemed to out of it to understand any of it. He walked off the stairs and looked to an invisible person standing near the fireplace.

"I told you long ago to leave, you've overstayed your welcome," he shouted and picked up his sword that was resting across the fireplace and drew it. He turned to a second person when it seemed to the boy the first person had left or something. His father raised the sword into the air and started shouting at the person on the ground. Looking on the boy swore that his father had gone crazy.

"And you! Get up you little bitch! Get your ass up!" he shouted and started to pull at the invisible person and drag them around. The boy stood there, remembering this day. He was about five and had been sent to his room. Now as he watched on as his father relived that day he could put actions to the sounds that he heard.

"You thought you could do this to me? No one dishonors me likes this! No one! If people knew who he was, what you did, well I'll make sure no one knows! You will burn in hell like you deserve!" he shouted as he chased the invisible enemy around the house knocking furniture and breaking various objects.

Then as he reached a corner his eyes fixated on it and he raised his sword into the air. The boy gasped as he finally understood what was going on, that night he had heard his mother screaming. Those kinds of screams you never would forget, screams full of fear and anger. No for as long as he lived he would remember those pain filled cries for help. His fathers sword dropped with a thunk and embedded itself into the wood. He lifted it several more times and just kept swinging and swinging.

"Father, stop!" he shouted and his father seemed to regain somewhat of what was going on. He looked around and spotted the little boy. His eyes now seemed fixated on the boy and he dropped the sword and walked over to him, stumbling with every step.

"Hey there Shane, what are you doing up?" he asked in an almost innocent voice. He was shaking and seemed to be wiping something from his clothes, blood.

"Daddy...what did you do? What did you do to mommy?" Shane asked as he backed away from his father.

"I had to make her pay son; your mother was a very bad woman. I had to send her to a place where she could receive judgment for her actions," he said as his hand reached out to touch the boy's cheek. Shane jumped backwards out of his fathers reach but soon found out that this had enraged him.

"You dare to back away from me?! You're lucky I even keep you in this house! Who do you think you are! You're not my son!" he shouted and turned around to look for his sword.

"Dad what are you saying?" the boy asked as tears filled his face. The man picked up his sword and turned his gaze back on Shane who kept climbing up the stairs.

"I should have known better then to keep you alive. I thought that if I'd kill your mother this would all end but it would seem I was wrong. I'll kill you too, you the bastard son of that wicked mage!" he shouted.

"'re my father!" the boy said in a scared and angry voice.

"I am not your father you little bastard! Now join your mother!" he shouted as he swung the sword downwards. With great speed Shane jumped out of the way and turned to see his father running towards him down the stairs.

"Dad please stop! You don't know what you're doing!" the boy shouted but was ignored.

"Shut up boy!" the man shouted as he raced towards him. Shane slammed open the door and ran outside, it was snowing now as he ran through the small town. He heard his father ran out of the house behind him screaming and cursing.

"Help me! Please somebody help me!" he shouted as he ran as fast as he could. The snow underneath his feet slowed him down but luckily his screams had woken up most of the townspeople. They piled out of there houses with weapons thinking that it was another raid.

"What in heavens name is going on?!" the mayor shouted as Shane ran up to him. He tripped and fell face first into the ice cold snow.

"It's my father sir! He's gone mad!" Shane cried as he struggled to get up.

"Get back here you bastard!" his father was quickly closing the distance between them but unfortunately for him the town had a group of soldiers for it's defense. One of them tackled him while the other took the sword out of his reach. Others came and soon he was pinned down as the whole town walked over to see what was going on.

"Let me go! He's the child of the devil!" Shane's father struggled.

"Shane come over to me," a woman in the crowd said and Shane did as he was told. He couldn't remember her name but knew she had been a good friend of his mother. She wrapped a large blanket to keep him warm as the mayor spoke.

"Everyone quiet please! Now let's get to the bottom of this," the mayor silenced everyone then walked over and bent down on one knee near Shane.

"Okay now Shane can you tell me what is going on?" the mayor asked in a calm voice. Shane stood there shaking and looked at the old man.

"I don't know sir. He started shouting at me, calling mommy names. He said he killed her!" Shane shouted his eyes filled with tears. He stared at the man being held on the ground, a man that he thought was his father only a couple of days ago.

Everyone in the crowded started talking amongst themselves but the mayor quieted them once more. He then walked over to Shane's father who was still pinned tightly to the ground.

"What's going on? Is that your child is saying true? Mathew you didn't kill your wife did you?" the mayor asked taking a knee and looked at the man.

"She deserved to die, she allowed herself to have an infatuation with that damned mage!" Mathew screamed and thrashed around some more. Shane stood there shivering not because of the cold but because of what his father was revealing. That Mathew was not his real father, that his mother had an affair with a mage and that he was the result of that affair. He looked over and saw Mathew's eyes on him, so full of hatred and anger.

"Guards take him to the prison; we'll deal with this matter in the morning," the mayor ordered. The guards lifted him to his feet; one brought a long thick rope over to him. They tied his hands behind his back, all the while his eyes never left Shane.

"Okay let's get moving," the guard said and tried to get him to move. In one quick move Mathew shoved the man aside, turned around smashing his head into the other guard then ran towards Shane.

"Get him!" the mayor shouted as the townspeople started to run away. Shane pulled free from the women that held him and ran.

"Take him out!" was all Shane heard next before a scream of agony filled the air. The boy stopped and turned around, Mathew was on the ground and standing a couple feet away was a man with a bow in his hand, the arrow was now lodged in Mathew's neck. The guards were running over to him, the mayor shouted his name. He heard none of this, he turned around and ran. Ran far away from the town.