Eris, the deity of hate, never accepted the offerings this town offered him for peace. He hated humans, why would he want one? He sat on the throne the humans had made for him in the temple he had ordered them to build, a black panther purring and having its head on his lap despite not being pet, sipping on some tea instead of wine like people might've thought, a few other animals littering the temple.

But today, they came once again with an offering. It was a young boy, eighteen. He was on his all fours, because that's how they made tributes bow to him and show "submission". The god found it pitiful.

"My Lord, please accept this boy as a gift," the woman holding the chain on his neck said.