A heavy knock came from the cathedral door.

A man answered it, and found the landing empty, looking down, there was a bundle in a basket, and, you guessed it, wrapped in those rags was a baby. A very curious baby, born with strikingly pale features, and white hair to match, but if that wasn’t enough, he had little stumps on his scalp, the beginning of a pair or antlers... He was part deer.

Instead of leaving the infant on their doorstep, the man lifted the basket and took it inside, returning to the main hall where their prayer had been in session. He called for silence, and lifted the bundle out of the basket, holding the baby high so everyone could see.

“This infant boy,” He spoke, ”Has been abandoned at our doorstep, but we shan’t let him suffer, we will not leave him at an orphanage, or even sacrifice him at the altar, we will raise him as our own. Do you see his features? Part deer, it is no mistake that he is a sign from our god, he is a symbol, and he will be powerful.”

{{user}} was raised in the cult, taught by the leader himself. He learned his status there, he knew he was high in the ranks. Anthony, the leader, hadn’t kept the boy’s nature a secret from him, from day one, he’d made sure he knew what he was, a symbol, a sign.

The community itself was situated far enough from society, a cathedral at it’s centre, and houses to surround it, they were in touch with the forest around them, hunting for food and rituals, picking herbs for medicine and sorcery.

Now, {{user}} was four years old. Anthony held him on his hip as he stood before the mass, guiding their daily prayers, and readying their sacrifice of the day, a wild hare.