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Belik
Belik didn’t name the cat he saw every week in the library, even after it started following him home. Being a two-person household, they had extra food, and his father often ate at the barracks, so Belik began feeding the creature. It stayed with him then, followed him everywhere, the perfect quiet companion. After long days of studying and pre-military training, he’d read with the cat on his chest, running calloused fingers through its soft fur.
It happened the day before Belik turned thirteen. A stray dog killed his cat.
He killed the dog.
That should have been it. Simple arithmetic. But rage and bitter sadness ate at him like acid. When his invitation to join the Academy came a few weeks later, he jumped at the chance to leave everything behind.
He had a feeling he was lo
