“How do you feel about eternity?” A jackal howled in the distance. The man kept his milky white, dead eyes on the boy. “Don’t scream. You’ll disturb the hounds.” A rheumy, black ichor dripped down the man’s face. Each drop traveling along the lines of a hard life and harsher death.

The boy sniffled “Why am I here? I didn’t do anything!”

“You didn’t, but your father did. Every debt has a deadline— and unfortunately for you, his just arrived.” A swell of crisp autumn wind fell over the pair. A low growl came from a shaggy hound that padded past them. The man fixed it with a stare before it took off. “There’s nothing fair in this world. Not in the station you’re born into or the rights or lack thereof that encompass it. Ease your mind and know you are not guilty— but you are the unfortunate soul held responsible.”

The boy began to buck against the restraints as the man placed a claw tipped hand over his face. With the other hand, he pressed two coppers into the boy’s palm. “May you haunt your father’s days for his sins from this one.”