Erik's new pup was still in its infancy, hardly able to open its eyes fully. It was fed and kept until it was able to move around on its own before it was given to Erik, at which his father asked him what he would name it. "This is to be your hound, Erik. Care to give it a name?"
Erik looked at the pup with a blank stare. "Demitrisadius."
Lord Henry had managed the travels earlier this year, with nearly two weeks remaining of the fall season. As he was a man who had much experience with animals and a keen love for them, he thought to offer his grandson some advice on raising one.
"Erik, it is still a child, like you, though not as bright. If you want it to learn, you should use treats."
"Treats?"
"Yes, my boy! Treats!" He turned to a maid and ordered her, "Go fetch us some scraps of meat from the kitchen."
"Yes, of course." the maid scurried off.
"Now then, my boy. Sometimes, the best way to convince someone to do what you want, is to offer them something that they want in exchange. This pup is a simple minded creature that loves the taste of meat, so all you have to do, is have it do what you want, and when it does, you give it a treat. Soon enough, it will learn to do as told without you having to force it."
His grandfather would show him the way to teach the pup, ordering it to "Sit." When it did, he gave it the scrap of meat.
Godfrey would find the sight of the creature to be less than pleasant, though it was not hate that he had for the animal. He thought to offer Erik his own advice, though it was much different to Lord Henry's. "A common Highland wolf pup. They are rather tactical animals, intelligent enough to train. You should be careful in raising it. They can be aggressive, especially the males. You need to show dominance, prove that you are the master through fear and force. Like this," he uttered as he came closer to the pup. The small creature yelped in barking and bit lightly at his long fingers as he picked it up and placed it on the table. It continued to growl and gnaw, until abruptly, Godfrey slammed his fist on the table. He then forced the pup down, holding it with only a single hand that encompassed its entire back. He stared at the creature, frightening it into silence. "Animals that bark too much need to learn to be silent in the presence of their master. I will get you a book on raising guard dogs."
Upon the first day of winter that year, Scholar Godfrey would return back to Novergracia, leaving his ward for the cold season.
With nothing but time that only a child has in their youth, Erik would manage to train his newfound companion to obey. Demitrisadius would fetch sticks that were thrown by him, but Erik did not like that. He taught the animal to only fetch when ordered, glaring at the young pup to the point that it was able to recognize the disappointment of its master. In time, the creature would learn loyalty, obeying only Erik and not the orders of others. Demitrisadius grew fast over the months, always remaining by Erik's side, even at night where he would find rest at his door. His family and servants found no reason to worry, as the young wolf was so well mannered, that it was as though it were a commonly bred dog.
By the end of winter, with Lord Henry's departure and the return of spring, Scholar Godfrey too, would come to instruct his ward during the warmer months. His fifth birthday would pass and he would spend his days within the walls of the manor, studying and reading almost monotonously. Scholar Godfrey would instruct him during the days, while in the evenings, Erik would be allowed his own time to do as he wished, though he would seek to read, rather than play as most children did.
"Young master, it is such a lovely day, would you not care to go outside and enjoy this fresh air?" asked Nomay.
"Why?"
"Well, you have been studying nonstop, surely you are bored."
"No." Blunt yet innocent was his response.
Nomay couldn't help but to smile awkwardly. "I see, well then, I will go fetch you some snacks in the meantime." she said as she turned to leave with a swish of her dress, trailing behind her.
Some time would eventually pass, with the day's light growing dimmer, and his loyal companion yawning from his lay. Erik would come to realize that Nomay had yet to return, prompting him to shut his book and jump down from his chair. Demitrisadius, upon hearing his movements, awoke to follow behind him.
Where Nomay had been was in the kitchen, doing as she had said she would, but getting distracted by the young stable hand who had approached her. The two were found conversing still, like two young lovebirds who had lost track of time. Erik saw this from behind the corner. "Nomay." he called out to her, stepping out and into full view. Nomay was startled, jumping between her shoulders.
"Oh, young master. I am sorry," she laughed. "I must have lost track of time. Are you hungry?" Her smile was genuine and beautiful, like that of a mother. She led him back to his room, waving farewell to the stable hand as she took Erik by his hand; his eyes on the young man as he turned the corner.
Erik had never really played with toys, but the next day, he began to play with a doll, one that he had taken from his sister's room. The doll looked like a princess, with a dress and tiara. It was made from linen and was soft to the touch, yet stitched well. He toyed with it before Demitrisadius, repeating the word, "Attack." The pup did not understand, thus, Erik, with an intense stare into Demitrisadius' eyes, forced open the pup's mouth and placed the doll in its mouth. He forced shut its jaw, prompting Demitrisadius to bite down. As Erik yanked the doll, Demitrisadius refused to release, pulling on its own. "Attack!!" Erik ordered, grinning as the doll stretched and tore.
The evidence of his destruction was cast out the window, falling upon the bushes between the manor and the stables.
Erik was a quiet child who kept to himself. It was unknown for him to cause trouble, to speak, or to express. No one suspected anything was wrong with him, but merely looked at him as though he were no more than a simple, innocent child, who merely had a quiet temperament. This being the case, it could be said that he flew under the radar, able to go where he pleased and do what he wanted, without any of the maids or workers suspecting anything to be amiss.
There laid a shed to the estate's western most border, just against the oldest wall that had been forgotten for the most part. It was abandoned, standing by its lonesome and covered in dust and cobwebs. Erik would catch a glimpse of it from the hallway window on the second floor, down the long hall from his own bedroom. As he had grown older, Nomay's clinging supervision of him had lessened, though she still remained hard at work. He was easily able to slip away from her by merely asking her, "Nomay, I am hungry. Can you make me stew?"
"Why, of course, young master. Beef or mutton?"
"Beef."
"I shall put the order in. Will you be able to wait?"
"Yes."
With a smile, Nomay bowed lightly and left, giving Erik the chance to slip past her back; Demitrisadius following close behind. He made his way through the manor down the lesser used staircase down the hall, leaving out the exit and stepping onto the dirt of the outside ground that had been tramped of any grass. He walked around the stone wall just outside and into the sunlight, passing through the laundry strung up to dry, and maneuvering into the tall fields of grass. He made sure to over behind him, making sure no one was watching.
Being as small as he was, the grass left little height for him to see ahead. Only by jumping could he make out the shed in the distance.
The shed was of wood and cobblestone, with planes of glass that were left covered in dust and stains. Moss had grown over the stone bedding, and any tools of iron that had been left were rusted. Erik did not cower from entering. It was dark, with only rays of light being able to creep in from the cracks in the ceiling. The shed was small, less than half the size of his bedroom. There was a putrid smell in the air, like that of a swamp nearby.
His reasons for coming all the way out into this field, which was a good walk from the manor, were unknown to anyone. Perhaps it was the curiosity of a child, but his eyes were not those of someone fitting as such. They were those of someone who knew what they were doing, and yet his actions seemed to contradict that. He walked around, scouring the area, yet against touching the old and dirtied items, he was. In hesitation, he instead looked around for a bit before turning back to return to the manor.
Still, it remained evening of that day, just as the sun was setting. Erik's small head of black hair could be seen running around by the workers. He grabbed various items, tucking them away against his chest and hiding them in his room, underneath the bed near the window side. He knew that his mother and Nomay, who were just about the only ones to ever enter his room, if to dress or put him to bed, would only ever do so from the side closer to the entrance. He took wherever he could find them, a bar of soap from the cabinet of the washroom, a basket, hand made by some of the younger maids, some rope from the stable, and a dagger from the house guard's stay, which he stole from during the dinnertime.
It would not be until the next day that he would return, immediately after his studies would end just before evening, where he would again make the walk, but this time with all the items he had gathered. Over the course of a few days, he would make trip after trip, often when he could avoid the eyes of others. He would bring things such as pales of tin, leaving them outside the shed and underneath the open sky, rags from the kitchen and maid quarters, even more rope, and even raw lamb's meat.
Behind the shed laid the long built wall that surrounded the estate, made of cobbled stone and brick. Over the decades, the wall had been fixed and patched in many different areas, used as a means to keep any possible wildlife from the forest from approaching upon estate grounds, but as this part of the estate was far from the way and neglected, it was weathered from the elements. If with but a little bit of effort, it would crumble. Erik made an attempt to kick against the wall, but it did little more than hurt him in return.
There laid a shovel in the stable, strong and with a wooden hilt. It was something that there would not be many other spares lying around to replace it. When the stable hand left, Erik snuck inside and grabbed it. The shovel was not something he would be able to easily swing around, as he was still a young lad, and the shovel was for that of a grown man to wield with ease. He placed it with one end on the ground and the other elevated on a bag of feed. Kicking at the center, it began to bend and splinter with eventual effort. Only when it seemed on the verge of snapping did he place it back where he'd gotten it.
Of course, the shovel snapped upon its next use to shovel the horse's droppings. "Well, guess I won't be shoveling the shit today." he cheered with a shrug of his shoulders.
When the shovel was discarded, Erik promptly grabbed it. Still, it was heavy, but its weight and length were far easier to hold. With the flat tip in aim, Erik thrusted the shovel between two loose stones in the wall. He pulled down the splintered handle as hard as he could, leveraging ever so slightly the stone out of place. It took quite a bit of effort and time, but eventually he was able to create a sizable hole in the wall.
Winter seemed to return as quickly as it left. Snowfall had yet to come, however, the cold was apparent.
Godfrey had returned to the guild, and Vindor sought to make one last supply trip before snow. He and a couple of the house guards took a carriage and two wagons to Novergracia.
With the outside air being so chilly, Erik remained inside, wrapped in a thick blanket, near a lit hearth, and with a warm drink in hand.
Nomay was nearby, tending to laundry which she folded almost to perfection.
"Nomay," Erik interrupted. "May you teach me how to do poetry?"
Nomay was of course surprised, but would not refuse his request. She had an interest in poetry, which he knew, but that was not to say she was an expert. "Of course, young master." she said excitedly. "I may not be that amazing, however."
"That is fine. I wish to try my hand at poetry."
She chuckled heartedly, writing down her best attempt at a poem on the spot. She giggled upon hesitation, halting her hand momentarily before continuing to attempt at finishing. "This is about the coming of winter, and how spring will return eventually."
Erik could not care less, though he took the poem in examining it. "It is beautiful," he said dully.
"Thank you, young master. That is very kind."
"Would you sign it?"
"Sign it? I shall!" she huffed proudly, a raise of her chin and a shut of her eyes, before scribbling down her signature at the bottom.
The poem was short and on a small piece of paper. A note, if anything, filled with beautiful handwriting that Erik would later use to write upon another piece of paper, a request. At the very bottom, he would even go so far as to forge her signature, undistinguishable from the original.
It was at dinnertime that his plans truly began. He ate quickly, hiding entire chunks of his meal underneath the table, and dropping them for Demitrisadius to eat. His plate was the first to be clean of food. "Mother, I have finished." Erik said as he scooted his chair back and began to leave.
"Already?" Celia raised an eyebrow in astonishment. She then laughed, finding it to be humorous. "Well then, do wash up before you go to bed, Erik."
Erik made his way through the manor to the worker's quarters. There was no one around, not even a flickering light. He snuck into one of the worker's rooms, leaving the folded note on the bed and quickly leaving thereafter.
It was all a facade, like a dagger hidden in a cloak. The act of innocence and ignorance, nothing more than a ruse. No one would suspect the truth to have been as real as the air we breath, the actions of a child that could not be called anything more than, evil. It was a trap. The young stable hand, being lured away from the manor in the middle of the night. It was he who was deceived by the thought of the young maid fancying his presence at the abandoned shed to the far corner of the estate, all the while, the young lady remained present inside, tucking in the young lord. Only upon her leave, did he open those eyelids which covered such sinister eyes of sapphire. He threw off his covers, sneaking in the dark down the stairs and out the door.
Erik made his way through the field, following a rope that cut through the tall grass. It led him to the other side and to the shed where he would find a young man hanging by a rope in the shed. Blood pooled onto the ground beneath the hanging body, the corpse, that with every passing moment grew colder; an arrow in the neck.
Erik made his way around the hanging body, avoiding the dripping blood and grabbing the handles to a wheelbarrow toward the back. He placed it underneath the body, grabbing a dagger he had left on a shelf, and cutting the rope that held the body up. A thud.
Everything progressed so quickly, everything was planned out. He pushed the body over through the grass and to the hole in the wall, just behind the shed. He wheeled the corpse into the forest, careful to not drop it. After so many hunting trips, Erik knew his way around and headed toward the trail they would often take every hunt. He was to dump the body to leave it to the wolves, at least, that was the plan. The murder he had concocted over so many months should have been simple and impossible to fail, and yet, to his fears and spite, his breath stifled and his body froze. His eyes trembled in their sockets. His grip tightening on the dry wood. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he heard something nearby; the sound of wood cracking.
A moment's pass and he decided to reach for his dagger, dropping the wheelbarrow with it and the body inside, falling to the ground with a loud slam. Erik forced his legs to move, walking backwards while looking into the distance where he thought he heard the sound from. It could have been nothing he considered, but it could have been a dangerous animal that would look to snag him for a meal instead.
This sensation he felt was unlike anything he'd felt before. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating at the same time. It was less fear as any other child would fear, and more of panic. He knew not what to do, contemplating his choices and options, while unable to come to a conclusion. He heard another sound, a mixture of cracking, movement, and hissing. His eyes stared hard as he backed away slowly. He considered running, but knew a wolf would outrun him. He could have attempted to climb up a tree, but his prowess would have perhaps failed in allowing him. He saw a figure from the dark, a head of hair, just in the moonlight that fell through the tree branches. A woman, no, a monster. It struck quickly, taking the body in the wheelbarrow as though it would get away. It's long, serpent-like body, coiling around it as it sunk its fangs into the flesh. Erik witnessed it all from mere meters away. The creature, the monster that it was; a mix of woman and beast.
Erik's very presence seemed to fade. His hearing grew silent, his steps twisting backward. He was calm, much to calm for any ordinary child to be in that instance. With his dagger in hand, he took the stance of someone prepared to attack, though he continued to create distance. Perhaps the creature did not notice him, or rather, it did not care. He was, after all, a light snack in comparison to a young man. Erik's eyes remained on the monster as it tore into the body. Erik watched with calm anticipation. Eventually, he was far enough that the monster in the distance became blurry. He gulped, swallowing his spit and finally allowing himself to breath. His eyes darted as he contemplated what he saw, before turning around and quickly walking forward.
It felt like no time had passed before he was already back to the estate. He unlocked the gate, leaving it purposefully unlocked as he made his way back into the manor. Quietly, he snuck his way back to his room. He changed his clothes and climbed back into bed. No one had seen him, no one had caught him, yet, he remained haunted by all that had transpired.