《Humanizing this creature》


 Prologue: Where Crocodiles Cry

    It was around March 26th when I attended my mother''s funeral¡ªa young actress on the rise who, unfortunately, met a tragic end by her own hands.


    The old, distant relatives at the funeral just mumbled, their breath reeking of rotting carcasses and cigarettes.They spouted nonsense about how a woman without a husband could never manage to live alone, raising a child.


    Honestly, I never even came close to having a normal mother-daughter relationship with her. After all, after being abandoned during her pregnancy, my mother focused on getting her body back into shape to remain the most beautiful model in the country.


    The price for her lack of time and the scarcity of love I received was having everything money could buy: games, sweets, clothes, toys... anything that could fill the void in my heart.


    I say this without exaggeration, but the woman inside that coffin was someone I couldn''t recognize. Her face and features had changed so much since the last time I had seen her alive. That didn''t look like my mother.


    Dressed in black beside the coffin, lifting the veil that covered my face, it was now my turn to say my final words as they lowered the large wooden box into the grave, seven spans of earth below me.


    -Mom, my best friend and the most beautiful flower in the whole world, I hope you take your golden trophies with you and can rest in peace for all you''ve achieved.- It was a lie. That serene face, covered in makeup, would never rest in peace, and it''s possible that even in heaven, she''d try to compete with God for His brilliance.


    My tears didn''t fall like those of the crocodiles surrounding the place, and I feel bad about that. My bitter smile over the coffin was sincere, but what I felt was anguish. If she had stayed alive and truly reached the top where she wanted to be, appearing in all the movies and TV shows, would she have ever come home happy and celebrated with me? But, like a black hole "the most beautiful one I''ve ever seen" she tried to swallow everything she could: people''s attention, my attention on her, but only on a glowing TV screen, the one I always wanted to be the biggest, so that her brilliance, with pearls around her neck, would never seem like it could one day be replaced by a simple, frayed rope.


    I could see out of the corner of my eye an older man with graying hair and a well-groomed beard slipping behind me, his black suit and polished shoes gleaming. Placing his left hand on my shoulder, this man, as handsome as my mother, spoke with the gentle words of the grandfather I had always loved:


    ¡ª Lucia, we should talk later about the estate and who you''ll live with, shouldn''t we?


    I placed my hand over the old man''s, squeezing it firmly¡ªa sensation I had experienced as a child when I was sick; The feeling of a warm hand on my back, taking care of me.


    ¡ª Grandpa, you don''t need to worry. I''m already 20, and I''ll probably manage just fine with my mother''s inheritance. I don''t intend to disturb your peace or Grandma''s, because I''m sure she wouldn''t like the idea of me moving in with you.


    Yes, my grandmother is exactly like my mother¡ªa cunning woman, sharp as a fox, who grows richer every day. She was the one who told my mother that beauty was more valuable than her own life, that money was more valuable than time, and that fame follows you even in death. Following these ideas, my mother would occasionally appear in our luxurious home, her breasts growing larger each time and her lips swollen as if a wasp had stung them.


    I walked my grandfather to the shiny black car right after the funeral. Sitting in the passenger seat, I took one last look through the window: a somber black funeral with reporters waiting outside, trying to get in, and the vulture-like relatives I had never seen in my life pretending to cry.


    My grandfather had always been a simple man, and even though he was rich and could afford a driver, he never allowed anyone else to drive his car. Even with his hands trembling from Parkinson''s, he would always repeat to me:


    ¡ª My arm won''t fall off from holding the steering wheel.


    ¡ª I understand, Grandpa, but one day you''re going to crash if you''re not careful. You''re not a young man anymore¡ªyou''re already in your 80s. One of these days, I''ll get my driver''s license, and I''ll start driving you around myself. When you need to go somewhere, I''ll already have my hands on your beloved old car.


    ¡ª Don''t even think about it. You might be my favorite granddaughter (and the only one), but you''re never touching my 1967 Impala. I want to be buried in it if possible¡­ Oh, sorry, dear, I think I''ve said too much¡­


    My face certainly soured hearing that, thinking about the not-so-distant future. I didn''t want to let that kind of expression show in front of my beloved grandfather. I know his health isn''t the best, and we just came from his own daughter''s funeral, but I don''t want to imagine losing the only person I have left.


    ¡ª Grandpa, can we stop somewhere before we go home?


    ¡ª Of course, Lucia. Just tell me where you want to go, and I''ll take you.


    ¡ª You know that old museum that''s about to be demolished? Bianca took me there once, when I was little, but I don''t remember where it was.


    ¡ª Bianca, you mean¡­ your mother? I think I know which museum you''re talking about. Your grandma and I used to go there too. You know, your grandma loves works of art, because the most beautiful works of art are worth¡ª


    ¡ª Worth millions. ¡ª I continued.


    I know, it was something my mother always used to say to me too, and it ended up sticking in my mind like drops of wine on white fabric¡­


    [...]


    A few hours after we left the city, a museum could be seen in the distance, falling apart with the passage of time. It was entirely made of wood, with a glass roof, and had no sign or plaque indicating the name of the institution.


    ¡ª It''s almost exactly as I remember it, just missing a few walls ¡ª said my grandfather, getting out of the car and placing his hands on his hips.


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    ¡ª I think this is the place. Grandpa, do you mind if I go in alone? I want to breathe in the air of old things inside.


    ¡ª I think it''s dangerous. What if there''s a homeless person living inside? Or some fugitive?


    ¡ª Hm¡­ If you''re worried about that, I don''t think there''s anything to fear as long as that old guard is still out front ¡ª I said, discreetly pointing to a man who apparently my grandfather knew. His eyes lit up as if he had reunited with an old friend.


    ¡ª Ah, of course! How did I not think of that? That grumpy Thomas still hasn''t left this place. Even though his back isn''t what it used to be, he still hasn''t retired.


    ¡ª Unlike you, you old rich man, I still have my ears and eyes sharp! With just a flick of my fingers, I could shoot a bullet right into your backside! ¡ª The man''s voice echoed from a distance, coming from the guard booth. He really did seem to have a strong, grumpy personality. My grandfather let out a loud laugh, and the two began talking like old friends.


    ¡ª Well, dear, I''ll stay here with Thomas while you look around. If anything happens, just yell for this old man here ¡ª he said, pointing to his friend beside him.


    I entered the museum, while in the distance I could still hear the two men laughing. My grandfather was talking about me to Thomas, who said I looked just like my grandmother when she was younger: beautiful, with a slender face, ashy brown hair, and dark eyes that turned violet in the sunlight, along with a small mole on my iris.


    [...]


    I walked through the museum''s corridors, my steps echoing on the marble floor. Most of the artworks had already been removed before the demolition, to be sent to another museum or sold. But among the statues, vases, and paintings, I was looking for only one thing: "The Beautiful Woman."


    In the museum''s old guestbook, which served as a guide for tourists, it was written that "The Beautiful Woman" was painted by one of Leonardo da Vinci''s pupils. The story went that he was divinely inspired upon seeing the most beautiful woman of his life crying crystalline tears by a lake. To avoid startling her, he hid behind some bushes and made countless sketches. To keep the memory of that vision alive, he began painting the portrait with urgency. However, by the time the work was finished and varnished, the woman had disappeared before she could even see it.


    Of course, this story could just be a legend. When I was between eight and ten years old, I did extensive research on the painting and even spoke to art professors, but no one could confirm the authenticity of the work or identify its true owner.


    [...]


    I walked for almost half an hour, trying to remember where I had seen the painting as a child. My mother had taken me through the entire museum that day, and despite the exhaustion, I was happy to be able to hold her hand.


    It was nighttime, and the white lights attached to the glass ceiling illuminated the space. I remember my mother holding my wrist and guiding me to the last artwork in the museum.


    ¡ª Do you see, Lucia? This painting depicts a beautiful woman. Her long hair, her garments, and her face¡­ that''s what made her admired. But what good is something beautiful if there''s no one to appreciate it?


    As a child, I didn''t understand what my mother meant. To me, the woman with the sad expression in the painting didn''t seem beautiful. But now, years later, staring at the painting again, I think Bianca was trying to tell me that the beauty of that work secured its place here. However, I think that if it weren''t for the genuine love in the artist''s eyes as he painted it, perhaps it wouldn''t be so beautiful.


    Up close, the painting seemed smaller than I remembered. Maybe I''ve grown a lot since then. I leaned in to observe the delicate details: the floral lace on the woman''s dress, her ashy brown hair, her violet eyes...


    Being so close to it, I feel, in a way, closer to my mother. But even so, the time I lost judging her can''t be recovered just because I now try to understand her.


    The cold air inside the museum doesn''t bother me. On the contrary, I feel warm, because there''s a warmth inside me.


    My years of studying alone were fun. Money, instead of making me a spoiled young woman, gave me the opportunity to learn everything I wanted: art, math, physics, electronics, crochet, and various other crafts. I even thought that if a tiger appeared now, I''d have enough skills to escape.


    ¡ª Haha... ¡ª I let out a weak laugh. The thought was so absurd that I almost took it seriously.


    I have all the time in the world to come back here. But even with Thomas guarding the museum outside, maybe my grandfather was right: instead of a tiger, someone dangerous could really be around.


    As I walked away from the painting, I heard a metallic clinking sound on the floor. Maybe one of the broken windows let the wind in and knocked over a sculpture; or perhaps someone had dropped a set of keys. But after the noise, I didn''t hear footsteps or feel any wind.


    A shiver ran down my spine when the metallic sound¡ªor was it the sound of crystals falling?¡ªreturned behind me.


    I need to move slowly toward the exit. Maybe if I ignore the sound, it won''t hurt or disturb me.


    I took a step. The marble floor echoed loudly.


    ¡ª Damn heels! ¡ª I muttered under my breath.


    I should run, but the strange feeling and now the sounds of crying and crystals falling made me hesitate. Maybe¡­


    ¡ª The painting...


    An insane idea crossed my mind. What if there really were magnificent things like magic or ghosts?


    I turned quickly, but in a way that if something went wrong, I could easily run.


    ¡ª Bingo! ¡ª The distorted face of the woman in the painting smiled at me. Before I could react, her hand was already gripping my arm, pulling me into the painting.


    It happened so fast that I couldn''t see anything during the transition, but with my eyes closed in fear, I felt like I was falling from a great height. In my head, mixed emotions raced through me: surprise that supernatural things existed, fear of leaving this world for the next, anger and guilt for being too curious, and longing for my grandfather.


    I''ve watched many anime and read several manga about similar situations, so I can calmly think of a few possibilities for what''s to come.


    The first possibility can be ruled out¡ªI won''t die from the fall (Come on, Lucia, I''ve been falling for over 40 minutes). Ruled out for obvious reasons, since I practically experienced a supernatural event of being pulled into a painting or whatever it was. There''s no way or reason I''d die right after¡ªthat''s against the plot of a story like this.


    The second possibility is that this is some kind of isekai, reincarnation, or passage to the afterlife. The chances of me having died without realizing it are pretty high, considering my life as a rich girl wasn''t exactly healthy (I didn''t get sunlight, drank little water, and only had soda).


    The third possibility is more logical and common to think about: what if I''m just asleep? I fell asleep or passed out, and I''ll only know when I wake up. But before anything, I should open my eyes and maybe see what''s in store for me.


    Gradually, I lost my fear, and more than fear, I was cold. Soon, I forgot everything I had thought, because the sky I saw while falling was vast and beautiful, its clouds and blue color dissipating over the horizon. Unfortunately, I was falling headfirst, and it wasn''t very comfortable not knowing how far this would go. I''d only find out when I hit the ground¡­ and when I least expected it, I fell into a deep lake.


    ¡ª Glub, glub ¡ª That was the sound of me drowning, since I didn''t know how to swim and was about to lose consciousness.


    A sudden voice echoed in my mind as I gave up struggling in the dark, dense waters of the lake. Strangely, the voice didn''t sound deep or high, male or female¡ªit was just instructions for something I didn''t understand:


    ¡ª The Lord has brought you here to care for this creature. The world is no longer the same as the one you were born into, and because of this being''s prayers, you are his blessing. The book in your pocket will never leave you, and you must follow the instructions it gives if you wish to guide your future toward a brighter path, alongside the creature. ¡ª Suddenly, like birds ceasing their songs, all sound went silent. I felt my body being pulled and dragged, and the strangest thing was that even though I tried to open my eyes, the only thing I could see was a small hand holding a book in its palm. I could vividly feel the texture of its cover with my fingers¡­


    Strangely, my body felt light all of a sudden. I believe someone pulled me out of the lake, so I should thank them properly when I wake up. But is it infamous of me to say I''d be scared if the person who pulled me out was the owner of those glowing red eyes watching me from behind the trees?

 Chapter 1: Devoid of Beauty

    The previous situation happened so quickly that I could swear I was reading a "rushed" book. Now, regaining my strength, I can move properly, seeing that I¡¯m still by the edge of the lake as if I were a discarded body. My vision adjusted to the darkness forming from the shadows of the trees surrounding this place.


    It was almost nightfall, and I didn¡¯t have the courage to move from the "dead" position since that little creature with red eyes pulled me out of the water, not knowing what it might do if it noticed I was awake.


    ¡ª Pipipi? ¡ª The humanoid creature approached me curiously, as if it had never seen a human being before. Should I risk getting up? I think if it wanted to devour me, it would have done so already.


    Slowly, I begin to crawl toward the trunk of one of the countless trees to lean against it, and the little creature, with its antennas, noticing my movement, didn¡¯t seem afraid to get more comfortable near me.


    Crawling closer in exactly the same way I had, I could now see up close what looked a lot like a little boy¡ªif it weren¡¯t for his pastel green hair, antennas, the color of his eyes, and his strange straw-like tongue. It was like a perfect mix of human and butterfly, maybe.


    ¡ª Pipipipi ¡ª It didn¡¯t seem able to speak properly, which made me doubt how human it could be, but at least it wasn¡¯t a carnivorous animal. Covered in rags that looked like old curtains, it reeked of rot. Its soft, white hands tried to reach my head in a failed attempt to give me a head scratch. Sitting in front of me, it seemed intently focused on every move I made, making me feel like some kind of exotic animal. I shouldn¡¯t have been able to look it straight in the eye, given how small it was, unless I had also shrunk in size.


    I stood up and walked closer to the lake, intending to check my reflection in the water. But instead of seeing an adult, I saw a little girl with long hair and a white dress¡­ The strangest part was that she seemed to be mimicking my movements. When I ran my hands over my face, I realized I had truly become a child again!


    The little weird creature beside me seemed interested in the book from before, shaking it and making a mess.


    ¡ª Wait! Don¡¯t do that, kid. This book might be the solution to my problems, or at least it should be¡­ ¡ª I quickly grabbed the book from its hands, the book that had come with me as I fell into this world.


    As the voice had said, I no longer seemed to be in the same world I belonged to. Even here, the stars in the sky were in different positions than the ones I knew.


    There was no smell of a nearby city and the only sounds I could hear were crickets and the boy¡¯s chirping. I never imagined myself in a situation like this, but in a way I feel prepared for whatever comes my way. Still, the best option right now is to see if I can find anything about this in the book.


    With the leather-bound book in my hands, I felt anxious to open it¡­ The first page had its title: The First Steps.


    What is this? A book on how to take care of a baby?


    "Prologue: Dear traveler, if you¡¯re looking for the solution to your problems in this book, know that you¡¯re a bit mistaken. Your duty in this world has not yet been fulfilled, and the first step is to understand why you were called here. The reason is simple: as you¡¯ve noticed, you¡¯ve also reverted to being a child, 8 years old, and this will allow you to accompany the growth of this creature alongside you. Your first task is to make him human again. Good luck!


    P.S.: You will gradually grow every time the boy grows as well.


    Signed: Daddy"


    But does this damn thing only have one page? I really hope this is just a very vivid dream.


    The creature mentioned in the book must be this pile of rags in front of me, with his innocent face, tilting his head like a puppy. I imagine he¡¯s lived in a way completely different from a human¡­ If only I could get rid of his rotten smell, I¡¯d already be a little closer to the goal of humanizing him. I need to get out of this forest and find shelter to protect us.


    ¡ª Hey, little thing, do you have a home?


    ¡ª Pi?


    ¡ª A home, you know, where people usually live, stay, whatever. How does a creature like you even live? ¡ª I realized it was pointless to ask about something he didn¡¯t seem to understand. But when I made a triangular roof gesture with my hands, he seemed to think of something upon noticing the shape. Grabbing my hand, he excitedly dragged me through the dark forest, and my bare feet stepped on untouched, soft grass.


    ¡ª Calm down! ¡ª The boy let go of my hand, startled, and then pointed to the final destination of that frantic run. His long, black nails had scratched me a little, but with a pitiful look, he didn¡¯t dare touch me again.


    In that greenish landscape, at the top of a peak that met the sea, there was a large stone mansion, just as worn down as the museum, full of cracks and collapsed sections, slowly succumbing to time and constant decay.


    ¡ª This looks almost decent¡­ decent for a horror movie! ¡ª Just seeing the building gave me chills, but at least now we had a place to spend the night.


    The way the boy led me here suggested he wasn¡¯t entirely clueless; he must have been living here for a while. Before it got completely dark, I figured we should start climbing this peak straight to the mansion.


    ¡­


    Even after 20 minutes of walking, the boy, still extremely excited, walked beside me, seemingly checking on me constantly, but I really couldn¡¯t take it anymore.


    ¡ª We¡¯re almost there¡­ It would be so nice if someone could welcome this cute girl with a cozy afternoon tea¡­


    I hadn¡¯t really thought about that possibility¡ªthat there might be more people around, humans or creatures. What would they do if they saw me or this little one by my side and acted hostile?


    We were now in front of the mansion¡¯s gate, which was just the entrance alongside a dead garden behind the collapsed wall. The gate wasn¡¯t closed, so we entered easily, and the boy, now ahead of me, led the way as if showing me around his home. Running straight to the entrance of the building, he waved from a distance as if urging me to hurry up. In a way looking at him from afar, he even seemed a little cute¡­ but he still needed a bath.


    Entering the mansion, with its white marble floors and walls covered in peeling wallpaper, this place had three floors and numerous rooms, reminding me a bit of Victorian architecture. The wooden pillars and objects were carved with beautiful floral patterns. From the outside, it was clear the mansion was divided into two areas and a stone tower, so I had a feeling I¡¯d have to explore a lot inside.


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    My stomach suddenly growled¡ªI was hungry! Rubbing my belly with my hand, I awkwardly looked at the pale boy:


    ¡ª Do you know if there¡¯s anything to eat here? Bread, fruits, or even potatoes? ¡ª My eyes sparkled with the faint hope of actually finding something to eat in a place as abandoned as this, because at first glance, all I saw were butterflies and moths nesting in every corner of this hall.


    Since his expression wasn¡¯t well-defined due to his dark sclera, the way he stopped and stared at me so seriously made me think he might have misunderstood or didn¡¯t get the question, but soon after, he smiled and, unnaturally, half-closed his eyes. In an instant, he hopped toward a large door behind the staircase leading to the second floor and tried to open it with all his strength. In the end, I had to help, and the door didn¡¯t seem that heavy after all.


    Behind it was a large kitchen, but it was overrun by rats. The smell of rotten food and the rats made me nauseous, and I didn¡¯t have the courage to enter without covering my nose with a piece of the white dress I was wearing.


    ¡ª I don¡¯t know about you, but I don¡¯t like living in a dirty, messy place. ¡ª I looked at him and received a confirming glance in return.


    I opened all the windows I could, grabbed a ragged cloth, and wiped down the kitchen counter to remove the dust. As for the rotten stuff, I discovered the boy knew how to separate the food that was still good from what we could throw away, so I left that task to him while I finished cleaning and chasing out the rats (Honestly, I¡¯m disgusted by rats, but considering only I could get rid of them, I had no choice).


    The boy had finished separating and putting the spoiled food into a wooden crate. I placed it outside with the idea of reusing it for composting or extracting seeds. That little creature assumed a hostile attitude toward the mice, and with a growl, he finished scaring off the rest of them.


    Well, the kitchen wasn¡¯t completely clean. There was no potable water coming from the tap, so I¡¯d probably have to go looking for water somewhere¡­ But for now, filtering and heating it on the brick stove in the kitchen would do for a bath. I couldn¡¯t stand the boy¡¯s smell anymore.


    ¡ª Boy, do you know where the bigger pots are? Let¡¯s heat up a large amount of water. ¡ª The attentive boy went to a small room in the kitchen that was probably for utensils and brought back a cauldron, almost dragging it on the floor because it was so heavy. Placing the cauldron on the ground because he couldn''t handle its weight, he tripped and fell headfirst into it. This wasn¡¯t what I was expecting, and I burst out laughing while pulling him out by his legs. As he emerged, he seemed to laugh at the situation too (He didn¡¯t seem upset).


    ¡ª Hahahaha! I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re so clumsy. Next time, let me handle the heavy stuff. ¡ª I gave him a gentle pat on the head and noticed that even though his hair was dirty, it had a soft, silky texture, and the antennas on his forehead swayed like a cat¡¯s tail.


    Unfortunately, even though I said I¡¯d handle the cauldron, I couldn¡¯t even lift it onto the stove. I had forgotten I¡¯d shrunk back to being 8 years old.


    ¡ª This is bad¡­ A cold bath isn¡¯t going to be fun¡­


    ¡ª Pipipi! ¡ª What was he trying to say? Leading me out of the kitchen, up to the second floor, and into one of the huge rooms, I caught a glimpse of what seemed like a suite or a fancy bathroom inside the bedroom. There was a porcelain bathtub in perfect condition, and the boy turned on the tap, releasing clean, hot water.


    ¡ª Huh? It doesn¡¯t make sense for the bathroom water to be cleaner than the kitchen tap water, and on top of that, it¡¯s hot! ¡ª I said, leaning against the tub and dipping my hand in to check the temperature. This opened up possible uses. The former owner of this mansion must have planned two water systems: one for common uses like cooking, cleaning, and drinking, and another for bathing. Is it thermal water, or is there a furnace still functioning somewhere? I¡¯ll probably have to check later if I can fix the kitchen pipes¡­ I realized I got too immersed in thinking about this, and the tub was already overflowing!


    ¡ª Turn off the tap! We¡¯re wasting water! ¡ª And in the same second, he closed it. He seemed to be reacting very well to everything I said, as if someone had already taught him what each thing was, and he was even smarter for his age than I had imagined.


    ¡ª Boy, do you know how to bathe by yourself? ¡ª I looked at him, who had been sitting on a wooden bucket on the floor for a while, and in return, I got a disapproving look.


    ¡ª Take off these rags. I¡¯ll see if I can find something else for you to wear. Get in the tub and scrub yourself with this sponge. ¡ª I handed him a vegetable sponge I found in the same wooden bucket, along with a bar of soap that I broke in half, giving him one piece to lather up. I¡¯ve taken care of my little cousins before when I stayed at my aunt¡¯s house for a few months, back when my mom was sick, so I¡¯m not embarrassed by this kind of situation. But since it was just the two of us, I wished this boy could be a little more independent.


    He got into the tub, and the water overflowed a bit more. After a few seconds in the water, his pale skin started turning red.


    ¡ª Is the water temperature hurting you? If you want, you can get out and wait for it to cool down. ¡ª He refused to do so in front of me, and soon his skin returned to its pale color. It didn¡¯t take long before he wanted to finish the bath, and in the end, he was still dirty in all the hard-to-reach places.


    ¡ª At least take the bath properly! You need to scrub with the soap and sponge under your arms, your back, and even the soles of your feet! ¡ª I said in a stern tone. I grabbed the piece of soap and ended up washing his strange green hair, careful not to touch his antennas. Finally, he was clean! The smell was just ordinary soap, but it was better than rotting flesh, and his skin even seemed to glow after being scrubbed well, his silky hair greener than ever.


    ¡ª I thought there would be marks, but aside from his pale skin and thin body, he looks perfectly healthy!


    I wrapped him in a white towel hanging over the bathroom screen and dried his long hair with a cloth I found in the room. I then looked for something that could serve as clothes for both of us and ended up finding a pair of various-sized pajamas in a wardrobe.


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be a problem if I use these clothes, right? No residents have shown up so far.¡±


    Apparently, his skin is sensitive, so I specifically chose pajamas made of the softest fabric. In period stories I¡¯ve read, clothes made of silk like these were usually for nobles, so I suppose the person who owned them must have been very wealthy.


    I was proud of the work I had done, and luckily, neither of us had caught a cold from getting wet in the lake. That would have been dangerous since we had no medicine or means to take care of ourselves (the afternoon sun ended up being the hottest, drying us off before we even reached the mansion).


    Now it was dark, and I had spent all the time during dusk taking care of the boy. The only thing left for us was to sleep, but with everything being dark, I needed to find a light source at least to help us find the bed in this huge, fancy, old room. The moonlight coming through the glass windows illuminated the path to a small table with a lantern, its wick still intact.


    ¡ª It seems no one ever used this.


    With the matches I found in the kitchen, I lit it and guided us to the resting place, but apparently, the creature could see in the dark because even before I lit the lantern, he had already lain down to sleep. I was a bit incredulous that he could do so many things and hadn¡¯t even told me, but it¡¯s not like he could speak.


    ¡ª You¡¯re really a brat. Why didn¡¯t you help me too? ¡ª I was really angry, but there was nothing I could do. I just lay down next to him and was grateful that tonight wasn¡¯t too cold. We didn¡¯t have a decent blanket to use. Then I heard a growl coming from my stomach and remembered just as I had already collapsed on the bed from exhaustion:


    ¡°I forgot to eat¡­¡±


    Lying down, looking at the ceiling, I thought I wouldn¡¯t need to worry since I¡¯d soon wake up from this strange dream. The boy still didn¡¯t seem to have fallen asleep and ended up snuggling up to me like a puppy. Was he cold? So I hugged him and patted his back to lull him to sleep.


    It¡¯s strange how he acts. At the same time, he doesn¡¯t seem familiar with human things, yet he tries to behave like one, smiling or even helping. The way he accepted me so easily without any distrust was like an abandoned child trying his best to be useful so he wouldn¡¯t be left alone.


    I wish I could have enjoyed this dream more. I¡¯ll wake up very sad tomorrow, but it¡¯ll be a good story to tell my grandfather¡ªabout a little boy with green hair and red eyes, with his little antennas, who can only communicate with ¡°pipipi¡± sounds, and how he stank before I gave him a bath.

 Chapter 2: Insistence.

    I heard my grandfather¡¯s voice whispering near my face, accompanied by the sound of creaking wooden floors. I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, streaming through the window along with a gentle breeze.


    ¡ª Lucia, wake up, my dear. You¡¯ve been sleeping for too long. ¡ª His rough hand brushed over my forehead as he stroked my hair.


    ¡ª Just a little longer, I¡¯m waking up! ¡ª Still drowsy, I rubbed my hands over my eyes, trying to clear them. Half-open, I saw a blur in a vast darkness, different from my old, well-lit room.


    ¡ª Come on, my sweet Cicia, your mother is here for you! ¡ª A hand that was once gentle turned cold and cadaverous, touching my cheek.


    Bianca stood before me, her recently buried body now rotten and awkward in a white lace dress. Her face remained beautiful, even in death, like dried funeral flowers. As if in a dream, I woke up standing in a vast darkness where I couldn¡¯t even see my own hands. In the midst of it, I ran desperately, searching for help or someone who could save me.


    I wasn¡¯t afraid of my mother but of the thing pretending to be her, because she was already dead.


    ¡ª Cicia, stop having futile thoughts and focus on the mission given. The boy is the key to what you desire. If he follows his destiny. ¡ª It sounded like trumpets and crystals, a familiar and androgynous voice, the same one that guided me at the beginning, echoing from all corners as I ran, making me feel pursued.


    A sharp headache followed by a flood of thoughts overwhelmed my mind. I couldn¡¯t come to terms with this situation, being at the mercy of someone I don¡¯t know. But even as I thought this, something seemed to have stirred in my heart, making me accept this fact willingly.


    ¡ª Cicia, when you wake up, look at the book again¡­ ¡ª The voice grew more distant, as if it had been left behind. The voice said things that made no sense. I had found it irrelevant the first time, but now, when I needed to understand the current situation the most, fewer answers appeared.


    I stopped running recklessly and foolishly. My eyes darted around, trying to find an exit or even the owner of that voice, but immediately my vision cleared with a point of light coming from the ¡°sky,¡± gradually increasing, a white star.


    [...]


    Drenched in sweat and with traces of tears in my eyes, I cried after having that terrible nightmare.


    Now awake, the boy beside me, with his eyes open, seemed worried¡ªeven though everything about his face made it difficult to express such human emotions.


    Sitting on the pillow, he placed his hand on my forehead as if examining me. His drooping antennas and downturned mouth showed a melancholic expression.


    I pushed him away with a slap and a look of horror.


    I quickly got out of bed, feeling an overwhelming urge to wash my face. The tingling sensation on my skin from his touch, which made me feel disgust and dread, eased as I regained awareness of my actions.


    An awkward silence hung in the air as I stood with my back to the boy, who still hadn¡¯t moved from his spot. I covered my face with my arm (as if wiping away my sweat), and instead of fear, anguish and shame were etched on my face.


    ¡ª Did you sleep well? ¡ª I stammered as I slowly turned to him. ¡ª I hope I didn¡¯t scare you. ¡ª And for a fraction of a second, when my eyes were drawn to his face, expecting some kind of reaction, I felt a shiver down my spine as I saw what appeared to be an utterly furious expression. But as my mind processed the situation, the boy once again returned to being a sweet child, his face now calm and smiling.


    I could in no way take out my anger on such a small and fragile boy. Just as I was thrown here without warning, he had to accept that a stranger would take care of him and change everything about him. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if one day he wanted to take revenge on me.


    Even if I don¡¯t accept this as my reality, this is his reality, and I¡¯m only here trying to humanize him for the sake of my desires and those of this ¡°superior being¡± who gave me the book. I feel horrible.


    [...]


    I calmly approached the boy, who had gotten off the bed, and hugged him. My face pressed against his cheek and my hands gently patting his back might not have been for him, but rather to calm myself down. The shiver on my skin remained, but nothing was as strong as the longing I felt for my grandfather.


    ¡°I need to be strong¡± was the only thought running through my mind at that moment.


    All I could do was continue with the plot of this theatrical play, be one of destiny¡¯s puppets, while figuring out how to return to my beloved home.


    I whispered an apology in his ear, squeezing my eyes shut until the tears stopped flowing. I¡¯m an adult (even if I¡¯m small), so I should act according to my age.


    Letting go of the tight hug, I ran straight to the small center table in the room, where the leather-bound book lay on top. I noticed it seemed different from before¡ªheavier and more robust, with more pages inside. Opening the book, its pages smelled of lavender, and the scent grew stronger with each flip. As I turned the pages, the title ¡°First Chapter¡± stood out.


    ¡°This wasn¡¯t here before!¡±


    With the book in my hands, I sat on the table, which wobbled due to its shaky legs. The boy didn¡¯t seem interested in the book¡¯s contents and looked for something else to do, taking light steps with his bare feet on the floor and his flowing pajamas. He silently left through the large wooden door of the room (even though doors usually make noise), but still, he kept a penetrating gaze on my back, as if wanting to confirm something before leaving me alone.


    The book, now open to the first page, had lines that I followed with my eyes:


    ¡°First Chapter: Taking Good Care of Someone!


    As mentioned in the prologue, your mission is to care for and ensure the creature is recognized as a human being. Your first step in this new world is to give him a name and feed him. After a good night¡¯s sleep, you should be able to teach him things humans usually learn, such as: writing, reading, morals, ethics, history, math, and arts. Remember that children often use the people around them as references, so be a great role model! For each completed activity, I will grant wishes based on the level of difficulty proposed in the task. It can be anything you desire, with only one rule: I will grant what I choose during the day, your most sincere wish.


    When he ¡®grows mentally,¡¯ new missions will be given.


    Signed: Daddy¡±


    ¡°It seemed similar to an RPG game. No wonder I used to play a lot from ages 13 to 16.¡±


    ¡°Whatever it is, this ¡®Daddy¡¯ created a peculiar reward system¡­ So maybe if I complete the mission, I can wish to go back home?¡±


    I scratched my chin with my thumb, deep in thought about what I had read.


    In the rest of the book¡¯s content, aside from the blank pages of the upcoming chapters, there were illustrations of leaves and flowers. At the end, the number of pages remained uncertain since they weren¡¯t numbered, and to find out, I¡¯d have to count them one by one.


    [...]


    The sun seemed to rise just a few minutes after I woke up. It was morning, but without a defined time, due to the lack of a working clock in this house.


    Hearing footsteps outside that distracted me from reading the book, the boy entered through the bedroom door, now covered in dirt, his once-white pajamas now brown with mud.


    ¡ª What were you doing out there? ¡ª I asked.


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    I got up from the table and walked toward him, leaving the book behind. I patted his clothes, trying to remove the dirt, though it would only really come clean after being washed with water and soap. The boy shook himself like a dog, scattering dirt everywhere and covering the floor with dust. Then he stretched out his pajama top, looked at it with displeasure, and turned back to me with the expression of someone who had ruined something.


    ¡ª Didi ¡ª the boy said, furrowing his brow and squinting his eyes.


    ¡ª You meant ¡®dirty¡¯ , right? Congratulations! ¡ª Standing in front of him, I ended up getting hit by the dirt when he shook himself, but optimistic about the boy¡¯s achievement, I gave him a head scratch.


    Taking his muddy hands, with a bit of disgust, I dragged him effortlessly to the bathroom. I smiled to avoid showing an angry face after what I did in the morning or acting immature over something as simple as dirty clothes, it¡¯s normal for kids to do that.


    ¡ª Now that you¡¯re dirty, you¡¯re going to take another bath. ¡ª The boy stood still until I left the bathroom so he could undress. ¡ª I don¡¯t know how you managed to get so dirty. Were you playing in the mud or digging holes?


    [...]


    Searching for more clothes that both the boy and I could wear, I climbed the old staircase to the third floor of the mansion, which I hadn¡¯t yet explored.


    The walls were worn, and a stench of rotting flesh came from somewhere. I checked each room in the long hallway, one by one, and many weren¡¯t as luxurious as the one we were currently using.


    This was likely where the servants who worked in this mansion rested, having only the basics: a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a chest. Aside from these rooms, there were also ones similar to the one the boy and I had slept in the night before.


    In the pink-walled room, there was a full closet with dresses adorned with frills., as well as simpler ones, but all of them were too big for me, as if only an adult woman had lived there.


    In the yellow room, with its wallpaper of childish drawings, there was a closet with men¡¯s clothes for a small child. Luckily, they all seemed to fit the boy perfectly.


    And in the last room, with white walls, there were men¡¯s clothes for an adult.


    All these rooms were set up the same way: a huge bed in the corner, a small table in the center with torn sofas, a rug, a large bathroom, and various pieces of furniture with carved details, along with golden doorknobs.


    I first entered the pink-walled room, carefully opening its door with the worn doorknob. My footsteps echoed with each step, but what stood out most was the stench coming from the place. Before searching for clothes, I went looking for the source of the dead animal¡¯s smell, intending to throw it out of the mansion and get rid of the odor.


    I walked around the room in my slippers, checking every drawer and behind the furniture, saving under the bed for last. The stench was so strong I could barely breathe, so I sought refuge near the broken windows, where fresh air came in. After taking a deep breath, I filled my lungs and pursed my lips to keep the clean air inside.


    I walked over the rug, which muffled the sound of my steps, and as I approached the bed, I began to see a pair of rotting human feet. I didn¡¯t have time to think, I vomited on the floor at the sight of the grayish skin covered in maggots devouring its insides.


    Standing at the foot of the bed, I gathered enough courage to approach and see the body fully. The rot emanating from it was overwhelming, trapped in such a closed space.


    It was a woman in a simple dress adorned with frills up to her neck, jewelry decorating her body, and countless butterflies beneath her corpse. In the other rooms I was about to visit, I found two more bodies¡ªall three women wearing dresses and jewelry, but with one key difference: the level of decomposition varied, as if they had died at different times or even in different years, since the last one was practically skeletal. The manner of their deaths was indecipherable, no cuts or dismemberment.


    No wonder the boy smelled so bad from the first time we met. The stench of rotting flesh from the third floor had already soaked into the rags he wore as clothes. Unless he had seen the bodies himself and used the curtains from these rooms to dress, there was no other way he could have smelled so bad. The odor didn¡¯t seem to reach the lower floors or the first floor, and in the hallway, it wasn¡¯t as strong as inside the rooms themselves.


    Avoiding further trouble, I tore the most fragrant fabric I had, my own clothing, and tied it around my face as a mask. Standing in front of the door again, gathering courage to enter the room with clothes, I went in and out quickly, taking only what was necessary. Fortunately, some of the clothes didn¡¯t have any odor and could be worn normally.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to touch the bodies, but I must find a way to bury them, both out of respect and for hygiene!¡±


    [...]


    Back in the room, the boy was waiting for me, sitting on the bed wrapped in a white towel. With droplets of water from his long hair dripping onto the floor and the sheets, he seemed to have trouble drying his locks.


    I brought a change of clothes for both of us. I taught him how to dress himself, buttoning up his white shirt and adjusting the collar. Finishing with dark brown shorts, now dressed decently, he was starting to look more human than before.


    Standing in front of him, who had sat back down on the bed after getting tired of dressing, I pulled from my pocket the sharp scissors I had taken from one of the servants¡¯ rooms. The shock on his face was obvious¡ªhis eyes showed distress, and his trembling revealed fear.


    ¡ª Calm down, I just want to cut your hair. It¡¯s not hygienic to keep it long if you can¡¯t wash or dry it properly. ¡ª I made snipping motions with the scissors and took his hand, making him touch the scissors. ¡ª Your nails also seem too long. But look, it doesn¡¯t hurt! ¡ª I then pulled a strand of my own hair and cut it in front of him, using his hand to hold the scissors. I smiled at him, as if to say I felt no pain from the cut.


    He seemed to like the tool after the demonstration, and his anxious look had disappeared.


    I dragged a wooden chair from the corner of the room in front of a stained mirror inside the closet. I guided the boy to sit there and covered his shoulders with a white sheet to keep his clothes clean.


    Little by little, I cut his locks, taking a few minutes to reach a decent length. I was careful not to make any mistakes.


    ¡ª Could you pull your antennas forward? I¡¯m afraid of cutting them off. ¡ª His antennas, now twitching like a cat¡¯s tail, seemed unsure. The boy grabbed them with one hand and held them in place.


    He seemed more relaxed as he listened to the sound of the scissors snipping his hair, watching it grow shorter. His legs swung back and forth alternately, while his other hand reached for the hem of my dress. His elf-like pointed ears were revealed beneath all those strands, and reddish shadows under his eyes appeared as I trimmed his bangs.


    Once the haircut was done, I didn¡¯t let him get up just yet. I took each of his fingers to trim his nails. I was nervous about this, afraid of cutting his skin, but nothing went wrong, and all his nails were neatly trimmed.


    The boy seemed less scared than I was about it, as he immediately got up from the chair and went to play in front of the mirror, admiring his new look. He jumped around happily, made faces, and shook his hair wildly, discovering physics.


    When I saw him happy, my heart ached. Maybe it was guilt? His happiness was just an unplanned consequence.


    [...]


    Black phrases in the book in my hands turned red. These were the completed tasks, and a reward would be given for their completion. Placing the book back on the table, I noticed the daylight and my stomach growling from hunger, but the boy¡¯s never seemed to show any signs of it. His skinny body was healthy but had no fat. And for me, it was already the second day without eating.


    During this morning period, I had been going in and out of the room, exploring other areas and gathering items I thought were important or could be useful later. I even discovered an office on the second floor while searching for something from the former owners of this place.


    Entering it, I noticed how much dust had gathered on the shelves filled with books. A dark wooden desk stood in front of a large window at the end of the room, with an armchair behind it and various papers on top.


    Taking my first steps into this room, I examined the titles of the books on the shelves, and many of them interested me, especially the romance and storybooks.


    A loud noise came from behind (toward the door), like something heavy falling to the floor, which startled me. It was the boy, who had secretly followed me into the office, being discovered shortly after.


    ¡ª Do you need something? ¡ª The boy timidly handed me a piece of paper from his hands, a drawing of a bee and a flower made with charcoal. Even though we hadn¡¯t spent much time together, I could still interpret his request.


    ¡ª Are you hungry? ¡ª I guessed he wanted a jar of honey, since that¡¯s what bees produce from flower pollen, and it¡¯s also what butterflies usually eat, along with other things.


    ¡ª Unfortunately, we don¡¯t have anything to eat right now. ¡ª I sighed, remembering the hunger pangs in my stomach, almost making me want to eat the paper. ¡ª But honestly, I miss kneaded bread and pure milk. Accompanied by fruits, then¡­ ¡ª I salivated while thinking about food, rubbing my hand over my belly. I closed my eyes, imagining it all in front of me, and regretted the days I stuffed myself with processed food like chips and soda.


    Going crazy from thinking about it, I just wished the mission reward would be a table full of food to make up for these two days of hunger. I just didn¡¯t know when I¡¯d receive it or in what form.


    [...]


    Continuing my area exploration, now accompanied by the boy, we divided tasks. Each of us would pick up what we thought was most important.


    I started with the papers on the desk, reading each one while sitting in the armchair. Most were financial documents or authorizations for something, signed with the surname Vespertino. All the writing was legible, in my own language.


    Aside from the documents, five volumes were found suspiciously hidden under the pile of papers. They were the family diary.


    I¡¯ve seen certain old customs related to this in fictional stories, and the idea of someone recording everything you do seemed strange to me.


    The boy seemed distracted by an illustrated book he had found, sitting cross-legged on the floor, deep in thought. Meanwhile, I was about to start reading these five massive books.


    [...]


    Comfortably flipping through the pages for long minutes, lying on the desk, my vision grew tired.


    Ready to start dozing off, the last book fell from the desk, opening to the final pages.


    As if it were a understood message, I immediately stopped wasting time with the others, which only talked about acquired territories and family trips, and picked up this book from the floor, open to this exact part, stumbling upon the following report:


    ¡°February 30th, year 486, We received a visit from the Sun of Solvariun at our country house. It was requested that this not be recorded, but we needed future proof in case we were accused of rebellion and blasphemy.


    The emperor brought with him a demonic beast, caged in silver bars. Without much context, we were asked to lock it in our tower, which had been unused for a long time. Soon, the Vespertino family would be relocated to another mansion in the capital, as our country house was slated for demolition. The location where it was built was a risky area due to the strong tidal waves that slowly eroded the peak it stood on. It almost seemed like a test for us, a ducal family far from the line of succession to the throne. Regarding the house, the emperor was informed that this place wouldn¡¯t last much longer, but we received the following response:


    ¡®If this demon is truly a divine gift, the mansion shall not collapse until the moment this creature is called to its purpose. But if it is merely a repudiated being, no god will save it from being swept away by the sea.¡¯


    This, respectfully speaking, was inhumane. To ensure secrecy, the Vespertino family must leave immediately, leaving everything behind, as the emperor said. I believe that if there truly is a divine purpose behind these events, the house will not collapse until someone finds this document. If you have found it and are not affiliated with the empire, come to the capital to meet us at the main house.


    Signed: Butler Jasper¡±

 Chapter 3: Who is this demon?

    I wasn¡¯t surprised by what I had read. In fact, it was great to finally know what century this world resembled¡ªvery close to the Victorian period, given the presence of an Emperor and noble classes. This diary in my hands gave me a reason to venture out a bit more before returning. I just couldn¡¯t die.


    ¡ª A demonic creature in the tower? ¡ª I furrowed my brow in doubt. This seemed like something out of a fantasy world. ¡ª Since the moment I arrived here, I haven¡¯t seen anything like that¡­


    [...]


    Tired of reading, I closed the diary and placed it back on the desk, on top of other books I would also take to the room.


    ¡ª A village nearby that also belongs to the owners of this mansion¡­ ¡ª I looked at the boy¡¯s face as he got up from the floor and came toward me with the book he had been observing at earlier, stacking it on top of mine. ¡ª It seems interesting to check it out, doesn¡¯t it? ¡ª He didn¡¯t answer me, just ran out of the office eagerly.


    After finishing my research, I found only a few useful things in that pile of records. The map of the area was included, showing the location of the village mentioned in the diary that belonged to the Vespertinos.


    While still sitting in the office armchair, the boy, who had returned after ignoring my question, brought me the leather-bound book from the room, its pages open and almost falling out, with the words ¡°Give a Name¡± highlighted in the first chapter.


    The boy who had brought the manuscript couldn¡¯t read, but suddenly his lack of interest in the material had disappeared, replaced by fascination with the magical color change of the letters. It was then that a small book fell from one of the shelves.


    I reached my feet to the floor and got up from the large armchair that made me look even smaller than I already was. I walked over to the little book and picked it up, seeing that its blue cover had golden letters:


    ¡°Baby Names¡±


    Its interior, which previously had a folded paper in the middle, was filled with both male and female names, each with a different meaning. The boy behind me picked up the paper that had fallen and handed it to me, and there it was written: Rafael Vespertino. One of the few that wasn¡¯t crossed out.


    I briefly walked around the room, pacing in circles with the paper in my hand, deep in thought, showing how anxious and unsettled I was. I took both of the boy¡¯s hands, who followed me like in a game of cat and mouse, and looked into the depths of his red eyes.


    ¡ª Shall we go for a walk outside? ¡ª I wanted to get to the village as quickly as possible.


    I grabbed the map from the desk and the charcoal the boy carried in his pocket to mark the path we would take. ¡ª I can¡¯t just sit around waiting for food to fall from the sky. I can¡¯t even think of anything but food right now! ¡ª Using the back door, the route was already mapped out.


    [...]


    I took dark overcoats that resembled raincoats, found in the kitchen, and put them on both of us. I tied the hood strings tightly around our necks so they wouldn¡¯t fall and reveal our identities.


    In a random basket found in the same place, I placed some jewelry and gemstones found in the pink bedroom drawer, along with the map and the Vespertino family diary.


    [...]


    Standing in front of the entrance gate, the last thing I needed to do was reread some excerpts from the Vespertino diary, where over 200 days written were about how the village grew increasingly prosperous, with merchants using it as a trade route.


    I leaned against the worn stone wall. The boy, who had been excitedly waiting beside me for the trip to the village, holding a used sketchbook I had found in the yellow children room, had forgotten to bring the charcoal he would use to draw.


    ¡ª Remember what we agreed on ¡ª I raised my finger, gesturing. ¡ª You¡¯re my mute little brother, and we¡¯re traveling to look for our parents. You can¡¯t take off the cloak under any circumstances because your skin is fragile.


    He nodded with an excited expression on his face, fists clenched. Leaving the sketchbook with me, he ran back to the mansion to fetch what he had forgotten.


    ¡°April 28th, year 481.


    His Grace, Duke Vespertino, and I set out at dawn on a journey to the village, seeking to understand why we had been summoned so urgently. Fortunately, it was nothing to worry about¡ªthey simply wanted to gift our duchess for the birth of young Lord Rafael.


    I also heard some reports about local trade. Many allied kingdoms had not yet begun using coins instead of barter, which made fair exchange difficult in our village, which serves as the gateway to the empire due to the trade route. But as long as we could sell fabrics and gemstones to tailors in the capital, it wasn¡¯t entirely negative to trade for lodging and food.¡±


    Reading the text, I could understand a bit about the local economy. I didn¡¯t have coins, but at least I could trade the jewelry in my basket for food until I found a way to earn money.


    As I ran my hand over the pocket of the dress I was wearing, looking for something to mark the page I was reading, I felt something rough and stony that stained my fingers black¡ªit was the piece of charcoal from earlier, which I had used to mark the map. Maybe that was why the boy hadn¡¯t returned yet, since the charcoal was with me.


    [...]


    We descended the hill along a path covered with trees¡ªso many that the path didn¡¯t physically exist¡ªand even passed by the lake where I had first met the boy. Now, in daylight, the calm waters of that place sparkled like carved sapphires.


    It wasn¡¯t as big as I had imagined, nor as deep.


    My legs were sweating under all those clothes, while I tied up the hem of my dress so I could run. The boy didn¡¯t seem as tired as I was, but he walked slowly in a way that irritated me. We had already been walking downhill for 20 minutes.


    ¡ª Do you want me to carry you on my back? ¡ª I sat on a large, flat rock along the path and signaled that I would help him climb up.


    I was rejected immediately, with him shaking his head and his pale face slightly pink from being under the sun for too long.


    ¡ª Walk faster, then. We need to get there before I faint from hunger. ¡ª I made an angry face and crossed my arms, getting up from the rock I had been sitting on.


    [...]


    Finally, we found the place, with its two-story houses and buildings in a retro Victorian style visible even from afar. The entrance was through a huge opening in the wall of raw wooden logs that surrounded the entire village. It was bigger than I had imagined, but the guards at their posts by the gate didn¡¯t seem interested in two small, hooded children entering through the front.


    Clutching the boy¡¯s back, I pushed him forward, trying to slip past the stern-looking men with their spears unnoticed.


    ¡ª You, little one. Are you carrying something in the basket? ¡ª One of the guards, leaning against the wall, pointed at me rudely. I smiled at him. ¡ª Just some kid stuff, hehe. ¡ª If he saw the jewels inside or even wanted to inspect the book I was carrying, they might arrest me, thinking I had stolen from someone.


    ¡ª Aren¡¯t your parents with you? Is this child beside you your brother? ¡ª The idiot adult bombarded me with questions, delaying my moment of glory inside the village.


    ¡ª Yes, he¡¯s my little brother. ¡ª I placed my hand on the boy¡¯s shoulders, who sweetly hugged his sketchbook. His features were hidden by the hood, but he looked as innocent as ever. The guard eyed him with a suspicious expression, as if doubting something about two small children.


    ¡ª Why isn¡¯t he talking? ¡ª The guard stepped away from the wall and approached us, his heavy armor clanking with each step on the stone-paved ground.


    With his spear in his right hand, he reached out with his left toward the boy, trying to abruptly lift his hood. Terrified, I instinctively grabbed the soldier¡¯s hand without a second thought.


    ¡ª He¡¯s sick. His skin is sensitive to the sun, and he¡¯s also mute. Our parents are already inside; they own a market stall. ¡ª I spoke bluntly and sharply. The gruff man with messy brown hair clicked his tongue, looking away from me as if hoping to find a reason to stop us from entering.


    I was already ready to kick his unprotected shins and push past him, but unfortunately, he stopped asking stupid questions before that could happen.


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    He shouted to his fellow guards at the entrance:


    ¡ª Let them through. It¡¯s just a little girl and her crippled brother. ¡ª The knight walked back to his post without even glancing at us again.


    ¡°What an idiot, calling my boy crippled just because he doesn¡¯t speak. I hope he gets fired for being a clueless fool.¡±


    I walked through the gate with the boy by my side, clutching his sketchbook, while glaring at the jerk who stayed behind, my eyes burning with anger. Walking forward, I stuck out my tongue sneakily as revenge, and the boy, who caught me off guard, started laughing.


    [...]


    Earlier, I had been anxious in case things didn¡¯t go as I expected, but everything seemed perfectly human and normal so far. The market stalls lining the streets, the carts passing by, and people shopping and enjoying themselves.


    I walked along the sidewalk, holding the boy¡¯s hand on one side and the basket on the other, listening to human voices (after hours of talking to myself in that mansion) that mingled like an orchestra of various symphonies.


    I noticed that every time someone approached us, the boy hid behind me, clutching my cloak and burying his face in my back. He must have never been in an environment like this, full of human beings.


    A large, hooded man appeared a few feet away from us, speaking in a foreign language with the owner of one of the fruit stalls and handing her a heavy pouch. Who was I to say this was suspicious? Even though, in exchange for the bag of coins, he didn¡¯t receive a single fruit.


    There were several stalls all on the left side, while on the right were the doors of houses and the carts of merchants passing by.


    I approached the same stall where I had seen the man and got closer to the lady who hadn¡¯t noticed me.


    ¡ª Hello! Do you still accept trades? ¡ª I said to the woman in front of me, whose face was wrinkled like a dried plum and whose hair was white with age.


    ¡ª Good morning, children! Shopping so early? ¡ª The woman squinted as if she couldn¡¯t see a hand¡¯s length in front of her. With her hands on her back, she leaned closer, her face near mine, and when she was about to look at the boy, I pulled him behind me, shielding him.


    ¡ª I accept both trades and coins. What do you want to trade with me?


    I reached into the basket, almost pulling out some of the jewels I had, but then I thought better of it.


    It wouldn¡¯t be normal for a child to have jewels like these, and even if it happened, trading jewels for mere apples and oranges would disrupt the local market and draw too much attention to us in the middle of the day.


    ¡ª Actually¡­ I remembered my brother is allergic to citrus fruits! ¡ª I took a few steps back and bid farewell to the stall lady, embarrassed for wasting her time.


    I sighed, placing my hand on my chest, for almost making a mistake that would cost us our peace.


    [...]


    Far from the market, we were in an empty area with a few establishments still open and streets paved with sidewalks. Few people were passing through, but those who were there consisted mainly of travelers or seemingly nobles out for a stroll.


    ¡°I¡¯m so happy society exists!¡±


    I jumped for joy, holding the boy¡¯s hands, who, not understanding my excitement, started jumping with me too. The only thing that could ruin my happiness was being chased during my stroll.


    As I walked through the streets of this village, looking at the shops and searching for a place with few people where I could buy food without drawing attention, I noticed suspicious movement behind us. No matter where we were, the same two redheads were in my sight.


    Footsteps echoed in my ears, even in environments where it was just the two of us.


    I grabbed the boy by the arm and asked him to put his sketchbook in the basket. At the end of the street, there was an alley that seemed like a dead end, but if you looked closely in the right corner, you¡¯d see an opening that led around the back.


    ¡ª When I say ¡®Go!¡¯, we¡¯ll run there. ¡ª I pointed discreetly to the alley. The boy nodded up and down, his neutral expression turning into an eager smile, as if he were enjoying the situation.


    ¡ª Go! ¡ª At the signal, it seemed like he ran much faster than me, even pulling me along with our arms linked.


    At the end of the dark alley, going through the opening and coming out the other side, we looped behind our redheaded pursuers, slipping into the first open place we found. It resembled a humble inn and restaurant.


    The moment they lost sight of us, they searched the alley but didn¡¯t have the courage to enter the darkness and discover the opening we had escaped through.


    Looking through the window of the place where we were hiding, I saw what they looked like: a girl and a boy, teenagers, twins, and definitely nobles. The clothes they wore were unlike the ¡°common¡± ones I had seen in the village. They were clean and decorated, especially the redheaded girl¡¯s dress, which was completely adorned and eye-catching.


    It was strange to see two hooded children like us wandering the streets, but it wasn¡¯t a reason for such behavior from these two!


    Not finding us or any clues about where we had gone, they left, kicking stones on the ground, angry at not getting what they wanted.


    [...]


    Looking more closely at the place where we were, it was simple, with tables, chairs, and wooden floors, enough to accommodate a small number of people. The staircase at the back leading to the second floor was likely where the guests went up to their rooms.


    In front was a counter, and behind it, a plump lady in an apron drying freshly washed glasses.


    ¡ª Oh, two little children. What would you like? ¡ª The lady had noticed us enter, thanks to the bell that rang when we opened the door. She smiled sweetly at us, placing the glasses back on the shelves behind her.


    ¡ª Do you still accept trades? ¡ª I asked, stepping forward in front of the boy. This place seemed perfect for using the jewels.


    ¡ª Of course, dear! ¡ª Coming out from behind the counter and grabbing an illustrated menu from it, she approached us calmly.


    ¡ª Sit anywhere and choose anything from here. ¡ª She handed us the pamphlet, which had only drawings and simple words composing the food list, with their prices beside them.


    We sat further back in the place, avoiding being seen through the window; the boy needed my help to climb onto his high seat, and I had to lean on the table to sit down.


    Calling the lady who was standing beside us, I looked around and whispered in her ear while subtly pulling the gemstone accessories from the basket:


    ¡ª Will you accept these as payment? They belonged to my late mother. But now that our father has abandoned us, we have no other way to pay for food. ¡ª The time I had spent looking for a place that would accept them was also the time I had to come up with a story for the precious jewels. I used a bit of my truth and the script I had previously agreed on with the boy.


    I put on a melancholic face, like a child who had just been abandoned.


    ¡°Cry, cry! Let the tears flow!¡±


    I tried to make my eyes as watery as possible.


    ¡ª Oh my¡­ ¡ª The lady said, startled, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes teary.


    ¡ª My brother was born sick and mute, and my father couldn¡¯t handle the grief of the loss. I don¡¯t blame him; At least my little brother has me. ¡ª The lady handed me the handkerchief she kept in the front pocket of her apron so I could wipe my eyes.


    ¡ª What do you plan to do now, little one? Do you have a place to stay? ¡ª With teary eyes, the lady leaned closer, holding my hands between hers like a sandwich.


    ¡ª We¡¯re traveling to my maternal grandfather¡¯s house so he can take care of us.


    ¡ª I can¡¯t accept the accessories, little one. I recently lost my elderly mother to an illness too, and I know how important it is to have something to remember them by. ¡ª At that moment, my stomach growled loudly, interrupting the emotional moment, and my face flushed with embarrassment. ¡ª Oh my¡­ We¡¯ve been talking for too long, and you must be hungry. Don¡¯t worry miss, it¡¯s on the house. ¡ª The hurried and concerned woman went to get us food.


    The boy swung his legs and kept moving his hands, stretched out on the table while he lay on his stomach. I couldn¡¯t give him back the sketchbook, or his hands would get dirty with charcoal, so I just intertwined my fingers with his as a way to calm him down. He, who had seemed distracted earlier, turned his attention to my face, looking deeply into my eyes beneath that hood, and smiled back at my gesture.


    After some waiting, the lady brought us plates of vegetable soup, which, according to her:


    ¡ª Vegetables are good for your health, so eat up!


    The set also came with bread, just the way I liked it.


    As the woman left our table to attend to other matters in the kitchen, I noticed the boy hadn¡¯t touched the soup or even the bread.


    ¡ª What¡¯s wrong? Don¡¯t you like this? ¡ª I thought it might just be a child¡¯s tantrum about not liking vegetables, but when he looked at me anxiously and opened his mouth, I saw it was something else preventing him from eating.


    I whispered to him while glancing back to check if the lady had seen.


    ¡ª What is this¡­ why didn¡¯t you tell me earlier that you don¡¯t have teeth?! ¡ª His mouth was just gums and a straw-like proboscis instead of a human tongue. It wasn¡¯t a pretty sight, especially considering how strange he already was.


    ¡ª Don¡¯t show this to others¡­ I¡¯ll see if I can get you some honey. ¡ª I was startled for a few seconds, but remembering his gentle and dependent nature kept me calm. However, with this, it became even harder to find something we could both eat together.


    Even after finishing my soup, I still had room for the boy¡¯s portion, and I cleaned our plates.


    I got up from the chair and headed to the counter where the woman was, but I got no response. Instead, I overheard a quiet conversation in her kitchen with an older man who called her ¡°love.¡±


    ¡ª If the crown prince really comes here, do you think there¡¯s a chance he¡¯ll eat at our inn? ¡ª This was the lady¡¯s voice, worried about something as she discussed it with the man.


    ¡ª Of course, my love! We should seize the opportunity and grow the family business! In this merchant village, ours is the only restaurant.


    ¡ª But why do you think he¡¯d come to this small village? Could it be because of the demon in Duke Vespertino¡¯s tower? ¡ª They fell silent for a moment until the man came out of the kitchen with the woman.


    ¡ª Oh, little one! Finished your soup? ¡ª She made it clear on her face that she hoped I hadn¡¯t overheard anything. ¡ª Let me take the plates!


    ¡ª I actually came to ask for a glass of juice¡­ please. ¡ª It felt like I was taking advantage of her kindness, but what could I do if the boy couldn¡¯t eat?


    The bearded, burly man looked at me with an expression that made it seem like my presence wasn¡¯t welcome.


    ¡ª Ah, little one¡­ May I know your name? ¡ª The lady asked before heading back into the kitchen.


    ¡ª Lucia, and yours? ¡ª I asked, trying to sound at least somewhat interested.


    ¡ª Sophia. Thank you miss, for telling me your name. Now I¡¯ll go get the juice. ¡ª She smiled upon receiving the answer and went in, leaving me alone with the man.


    ¡ª You remind me of our daughter when she was younger. Now that she¡¯s grown, she¡¯s living in the capital. ¡ª The robust man came out from behind the counter and crouched to my height.


    ¡ª Nice to meet you, Lucia. I¡¯m Gather, the owner of the restaurant and Sophia¡¯s husband. I¡¯m usually in the kitchen preparing the food. ¡ª It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t find me pleasant; it was just that his face always looked that way.


    ¡ª You¡¯re not from here, are you? ¡ª He said, scratching his beard.


    ¡ª How do you know?!


    ¡ª By the way you and your brother stand out wearing these cloaks. ¡ª He laughed loudly, giving me strong pats on the back, like an old man would. Startled, the boy, who had been sitting in the chair earlier, appeared behind me, protecting my back with his own hands.


    He must have thought Gather was hurting me.


    ¡°Is he imitating when I stopped the guard from lifting his hood?¡±


    ¡ª Look, we have a little knight among us. ¡ª Gather placed his heavy hand on the boy¡¯s head, ruffling his hair, while I held the cloak¡¯s strings to keep the hood in place.


    ¡ª Want to hear a cool story while we wait for the juice? ¡ª Gather stood up and pulled a chair to sit at a table.


    I didn¡¯t know if I could say ¡°yes,¡± because the story he seemed to want to tell was likely related to the demon living under the same roof as us.

 Chapter 4: Things continue after the first chapter.

    At the end, even though I hadn¡¯t responded, Gather began telling the little tale.


    ¡ª Twenty years ago, the empire was haunted by the public execution of the empress. Everyone knew she loved the emperor deeply, but her extreme actions were seen as an affront to God. ¡ª Gather got up from his chair and walked to the windows, looking outside as if checking something. He locked the restaurant door and closed the curtains.


    ¡ª <b>The empress made a pact with a demon to produce an heir.</b>


    ¡ª For a long time, the people had hoped she would soon have a child, but even after five years, there was still no hopeful news.


    As I listened to the story, I sat on the floor next to the boy, who sat beside me.


    ¡ª They say that on the day a white star, shining as bright as the sun, appeared in the sky on the darkest night of the empire, the late empress prayed to it to grant her a child. And the wish was indeed granted. The next day, most of the maids in the palace saw a huge egg in the empress¡¯s room. ¡ª Gather gestured with his arms, mimicking the rocking of a baby. ¡ª The emperor didn¡¯t know about this until the<i> ¡°baby¡±</i> was born. It looked like a slimy larva.


    Gather walked over to us and crouched down to our eye level.


    ¡ª The empress left the baby alone long enough for it to start crying loudly. Its cries echoed through the castle for hours, and the emperor discovered it.


    <i>*Clap!  </i>


    Gather suddenly clapped his hands, startling us.


    I was starting to get scared, wondering if such a creature really existed. This was something my grandfather used to say¡ªthat besides fearing the devil, we should fear humans who sympathize with him.


    ¡ª It was in the spring that the empress¡¯s maternal church demanded the peace treaty be dissolved and that she be taken back home. To the people, it seemed like they wanted to turn a blind eye to what had happened. Enraged, everything in the capital came to a halt: shops, restaurants, markets, businesses; Until the emperor did something about it.


    I was starting to feel anxious about how the story would end, but the boy beside me seemed uneasy, perhaps because it was too heavy for a child to hear.


    ¡ª Do you know how the emperor resolved it? ¡ª Gather leaned closer to us, building suspense. He covered one side of his mouth and whispered, ¡ª He dragged the poor woman, who still smiled tenderly at him, and burned her in the square in front of everyone, where no execution had taken place for centuries. After that, many had differing opinions about how the emperor was unfit to rule, leading to the rise of an anti-imperial faction. There are some ducal families with the same blood as the emperor who could dethrone him with the support of these factions, but after what happened, he remarried one of his cousins, who gave birth to the current crown prince.


    Sophia, Gather¡¯s wife, came out of the kitchen at that exact moment, carrying three glasses of orange juice on a silver tray. She placed the tray on the counter and scolded her husband, hands on her hips.


    ¡ª I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re scaring the children with this story! Have some mercy! ¡ª she grumbled. Sophia handed out the glasses and sat in the chair Gather had been sitting in earlier.


    ¡ª But is the story true? About the¡­ ¡ª I asked, biting my nails in fear. Gather didn¡¯t seem to realize it, but his face made the story even more terrifying.


    ¡ª It is! Continuing the story about the creature, it was said that the emperor couldn¡¯t kill it with his own hands, nor could any of his servants. Why? I don¡¯t know. ¡ª Gather shrugged and stood up, walking back to the door and windows. ¡ª But do you see that place over there?


    I got up and walked over to him to see what he was pointing at.


    ¡ª That tower on the peak, by the sea. They say it¡¯s still there, unable to escape the cage it was put in. Since it wouldn¡¯t receive divine help, it would eventually die. ¡ª He pointed to our house, peeking through a gap in the curtain.


    Returning to a normal tone, he reopened the restaurant and went back to the kitchen after getting a few slaps on the arm from Sophia.


    ¡ª I¡¯m sorry, child! My husband always loved scaring young ones, but I saw your little brother didn¡¯t seem to be feeling well. I should have stopped him earlier. ¡ª Sophia sighed, patting the boy¡¯s head as he clung to my cloak beside me.


    [...]


    We were about to leave when I thought to ask:


    ¡ª Ma¡¯am! By any chance, do you need help? I¡¯m good at everything! ¡ª It was a lie. I grew up as a spoiled girl, so I wasn¡¯t capable of doing any housework or manual labor. The most I knew was crafts, because I had been very interested in handmade products at one point.


    ¡ª How nice of you to ask! In a few days, the restaurant will be very busy, so some extra hands would be great. ¡ª The lady rested her chin on her palm and sighed. ¡ª But I might not be able to pay you much¡­


    ¡ª No problem! I just need enough to eat.


    ¡ª Will it just be you working, or your brother too?


    ¡ª Just me!


    ¡ª How old are you? You seem very small¡­


    ¡ª I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m 10! ¡ª I could pass for a 10-year-old, since I was very smart for my current age (even though I¡¯m actually 20).


    ¡ª Alright, little one. You can start working here next week, then.


    ¡ª Thank you!! ¡ª As I opened the door to leave, accompanied by the boy, the lady caught my attention by tugging on my cloak.


    ¡ª Girl¡­ Someone left this jar of honey at the back door of the kitchen. I can¡¯t use it for anything, so if you want to take it with you¡­ ¡ª A glass jar holding about a liter of honey was under the lady¡¯s arm. She handed it to me with both hands because of its weight.


    ¡ª Thank you again! ¡ª I smiled graciously as I placed it in my basket.


    [...]


    Entering the village had been troublesome because of the guard earlier, but now that the shifts seemed to have changed, not even a gentleman questioned us. Just to be safe, we hitched a ride on a hay cart heading outside the village, making it seem natural to be heading toward the stone tower on the hill.


    The biggest challenge wasn¡¯t even close to what had happened in the morning, like descending the hill, arguing with idiots, or being chased. No, the real challenge was climbing back up.


    The hill wasn¡¯t too steep, but for the boy, who hadn¡¯t seemed tired before, it now seemed exhausting.


    ¡ª Come on! Just a little further¡­ ¡ª I was already at my limit too, carrying the heavy basket on my arm and with a dry throat.


    ¡ª ¡­We can drink lake water? ¡ª Near the sapphire-blue lake we had seen earlier, we went to it with the goal of refreshing ourselves with its cool water.


    [...]


    Once close to the lake, I sat on the cold grass, took off my hood and slippers, and dipped my feet into the chilly water.


    The boy, who stayed far from the shore, seemed reluctant to do the same.


    ¡ª Come here, let¡¯s talk¡­ ¡ª I gestured with my hand, calling him over. He approached slowly and sat beside me, hugging his knees and resting his head on them.


    My arm was itching, so I wet it with some water to soothe the red spots on my skin. When I changed clothes earlier, they were already there, like mosquito bites.


    I looked at the boy, who was admiring the sun¡¯s reflection on the lake¡­ His eyes shone intensely like ripe apples in an orchard.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡ª I¡¯ve been thinking¡­ Have you been alone all this time? You understand what I say, act independently when needed¡­ Who are you? ¡ª My voice sounded like a question, but at the same time, it was rhetorical, as if I didn¡¯t expect an answer.


    The boy¡¯s eyes turned to me, as did his head, which rested on his knees.


    ¡ª Have you thought about what you¡¯ll do when you grow up? ¡ª I rested my face on my hand and pouted, already getting annoyed by the silence.


    The boy smiled as if to say, ¡°I don¡¯t even know about tomorrow.¡±


    ¡ª I wish you could talk. It¡¯s hard to understand you this way.


    ¡°Earlier, the book had asked me to give him a name¡­¡±


    ¡ª I just remembered I never told you my name directly. I¡¯m Lucia, but my nickname is Cicia, for those closest to me¡­ ¡ª Nicknames usually serve to shorten a name, but mine came about to add a more affectionate tone when people called me. I scooted closer to the boy and rested my head on his shoulder. He was startled by the sudden closeness and stiffened like a statue.


    ¡ª You might want to change it later, but I¡¯ve been thinking about what to call you from now on. I¡¯m tired of ¡®boy,¡¯ ¡®kid,¡¯ ¡®little creature.¡¯ ¡ª He quickly turned as if to say, ¡°Me?!¡±


    ¡ª Not tired of you, but of how I call you. Do you want to know the name I thought of or not?! ¡ª I pinched the tip of his ear with my left hand, almost giving up on continuing to talk alone.


    The boy nodded, agreeing to hear about his new name.


    ¡ª I thought about calling you Oberon, since you kind of look like the descriptions of him, but it¡¯s too strong a name for someone with such a¡­ delicate face? ¡ª My mouth twisted into a half-smile, not being entirely honest.


    ¡ª So!! Following this line of thought, roll the drums! ¡ª I started using my index fingers as drumsticks for an invisible drum in front of me. ¡ª Reon!!!


    ¡ª What do you think?


    I smiled, convinced the name was perfect for him. It was easy to remember and write, and it served as a diagram with a very special meaning.


    The boy raised an eyebrow with a silly expression on his face. Did he not like it?


    ¡ª But if you want to change it in the future, you can¡­


    He took my hands in his, which were smaller than mine, and kissed the back of them.


    ¡ª ??!! ¡ª I jumped back, even pulling my feet out of the water. That had embarrassed me.


    ¡ª I think¡­ it¡¯s time to head back!


    [...]


    Back at the mansion, I planned to plant the carrot tops and sprouted potatoes we had found in the kitchen earlier before dusk.


    ¡°Sprouted potatoes can¡¯t be eaten.¡± That¡¯s what I was told, so all I could do was plant them to harvest more.


    Outside, I was wearing a gardener¡¯s apron and using a hoe I found in the storage shed. I put a straw hat on Reon¡¯s head and set him to work alongside me.


    ¨C You know? Potatoes with sprouts can contain toxic glycoalkaloids like solanine! ¨C Outside the mansion, specifically behind it where there was a wilted rose garden, I leaned on the hoe and explained some things about gardening to Reon. ¨C Potatoes like that could even kill us if we ate them.


    ¨C Hey, can you bring me the box of rotten fruit? ¨C I pointed to the wooden box leaning against the wall, and the boy beside me went to fetch it, managing to carry it without any trouble. ¨C You¡¯ve gotten stronger, huh? Well, we¡¯ll use them as fertilizer to help balance the soil¡¯s salinity, which is what¡¯s killing the plants here.


    One of the things I loved doing most as a kid was gardening. At my grandfather¡¯s farm, I used to eat corn straight from the field, which inspired me to learn how to grow things.


    I started with the hoe, pulling out the wilted plants and turning over the soil to make space. Reon tossed the fruit into the hole, and I covered it back up with dirt.


    ¨C Done! ¨C The boy looked at me, dissatisfied, thinking we¡¯d have to do more than just that.


    ¨C You like playing in the dirt, don¡¯t you? But for now, we have to wait for the fertilizer to do its thing. Later, we¡¯ll plant something. ¨C I left the hoe by the door that led us there and took off my apron.


    ¨C I¡¯ll let you play in the dirt later, but first, let¡¯s put the carrot and potato pieces in a basin of water. They¡¯ll grow roots, which will make planting easier.


    I took the straw hat off Reon¡¯s head and ruffled his hair; his soft locks tangled in my palm, which felt a bit rough.


    Reon looked at me with a pout and his (almost nonexistent) eyebrows furrowed, forming a wrinkled frown and a grumpy expression.


    ¨C Why is he mad now? ¨C I walked over to the small steps in front of the back door and sat down, leaving space for him beside me.


    I leaned back on my arms and stared at the sky for a while, which seemed to be filling with clouds, a cold breeze passing through my clothes.


    ¨C I think it¡¯s going to rain¡­


    Reon walked over to me and flopped down beside me, leaning against my arm.


    ¨C Huh? I thought you were mad at me. ¨C I looked at his face, smiling in an annoying way.


    It was then that I noticed some suspicious movement in the bushes near the stone wall surrounding the mansion. Was it some large animal that had wandered in? I held Reon¡¯s hand and stood up as if to take him inside.


    I could hear whispers, not very quiet, since the owner of the female voice seemed rather loud.


    ¨C Reon, go inside and don¡¯t come out until I call you. ¨C I carefully lifted Reon by the arm and guided him to the door, and after closing it with him inside, I stood in front of it.


    ¨C You there! What are you doing here?! ¨C I shouted at the youngsters, who, startled, jumped and fell out of the bushes, revealing the same ones who had been following us earlier in the village.


    The girl sprawled on the grass with leaves tangled in her hair shouted while rudely pointing her finger at me:


    ¨C You, little girl!! You were just cozying up with the devil¡¯s spawn!


    ¨C Huh?! ¨C I shouted, unconsciously startled.


    ¡°What on earth is this girl talking about? Is she crazy?!¡±


    The boy next to her, as he got up from the ground, covered her hand that was pointing at me, as if to hide her rude gesture.


    ¨C Stop it, Penelope. It¡¯s not polite to point at others. Blockhead! ¨C He gave her a light tap on the back of her head. Now standing, the boy helped his, presumably twin sister, to her feet as well.


    While they brushed off their noble clothes, using a white handkerchief to clean them, they argued fiercely with me:


    ¨C Girl, are you stupid!? How could you bring a creature like that out of the tower!? ¨C Penelope, the red-haired girl in her extravagant dress, stomped her foot and kept pointing her finger.


    ¨C That thing¡­ Disgusting!! I wish I¡¯d never seen it in my life. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps! ¨C She hugged herself, shaking exaggeratedly.


    ¨C Shut up, redheaded intruder! No one asked you to turn Reon into a circus clown for your entertainment! ¨C Furious, I thumped my chest to protect the little one.


    ¨C Did you hear that, Cedric!? The creature even has a name! ¨C Every movement the girl made was exaggerated. Her high-pitched, irritating voice cut through my ears like knives.


    The boy next to her, who had finished cleaning his clothes, crossed his arms thoughtfully and started walking toward me.


    ¨C Stay right there, don¡¯t come any closer! ¨C I shouted, feeling threatened by his approach, and my right hand went straight to the hoe¡¯s handle as if I were about to use it.


    ¨C I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to intrude on this property or cause any trouble. ¨C Cedric, the teenager who looked like his sister, greeted me casually, like a nobleman.


    His hair was neatly combed, unlike his sister¡¯s long, wavy locks. His yellowish-brown eyes looked at me gently with a smile.


    ¨C My sister was curious about the history of this place and wanted to come here to see if the ¡®devil¡¯ really existed.


    ¨C Liar! ¨C I retorted loudly. ¨C You were following us even in the streets!


    He started to approach even closer, making me feel cornered with my back to the door.


    ¡° I Can get inside and lock it quickly? ¡° With my hand on the doorknob, I threatened to turn it.


    Cedric was now just a few steps away from me.


    ¡°Darn it! He¡¯s tall! I won¡¯t even be able to hit him in time.¡±


    ¨C Girl, can we talk calmly?


    Penelope in the background was sulking and angry at being ignored, so she started urging Cedric on.


    ¨C Come on, brother! Deal with the devil¡¯s servant! ¨C she called from behind.


    ¨C Are you an stupid, girl? I¡¯m not as strong as you think I am! ¨C Cedric started with a small laugh, then burst into laughter at his sister¡¯s idea. Covering his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. He stopped walking toward me.


    ¨C You¡¯re asking me to deal with a little girl like this? You¡¯re a monster! ¨C His chivalrous facade crumbled, revealing a more reckless side.


    Using the time while they were still arguing, I slipped through the door behind me and locked it with the hoe on the inside.


    ¨C I made it!


    Watching the two through the window, the girl stomped her clogged feet on the ground in anger.


    ¨C See! You let her get away!! ¨C She let out curses that didn¡¯t match her adorable face.


    The boy outside ran his thumb over his lips and looked at the freshly turned soil we had just worked on, smiling as he turned, facing the red eyes beside me, glowing in the dark.


    I saw a few drops of water hitting the windowpane before it started to drizzle.


    ¨C Let¡¯s go, Penelope, the fun¡¯s over. ¨C In a way, Cedric seemed more mature than his sister and understood that, at least for that day, they wouldn¡¯t get anything out of me or Reon.


    Penelope, furious, obeyed her brother, glancing at me through the window one last time. The moment they left our garden, it started to rain. A light rain at first, but it continued throughout the day, growing heavier, like a prelude to the future.


    [...]


    ¡°They definitely got home soaked and covered in dirt. Serves them right!¡±


    Now, at night, I tried reading the leather-bound book again in our room. Sitting on the wooden chair, I lit the lantern and placed it on the small table. Even though we¡¯d spent the whole day walking under the sun, Reon didn¡¯t seem to have sweated at all. He, who had already learned to put on his own pajamas, was lying in bed with a blanket I had ¨C coincidentally ¨C found in a servant¡¯s chest.


    We had a basic dinner, the leftover bread from Sophia¡¯s restaurant, and the mysterious jar of honey the boy had been so eager to drink. Because of this jar of honey and other things, I suspected it had all been planned by ¡°him¡±  all along the owner of the book who promised us a reward for each task completed.


    When I opened the book, the words ¡° Give the name¡±were crossed out, as if marked as completed by someone. The next mission on the following line was: teach basic concepts and common studies.


    Since the mission to give Reon a name was completed, could I expect a bigger reward than a jar of honey?


    ¨C I just want to be able to eat this week¡­ At least until I start working.


    I closed the book and put it back in its place, then walked over to the bed with the lantern.


    Reon hadn¡¯t fallen asleep yet but had picked up a book and started looking at it in the dark.


    ¨C What¡¯s that book in your hand? Is it the same one you were reading in the office?


    He caught me a bit off guard when I looked at the manuscript in his hands and examined the cover. It was a romance called: The 100 Tales of Princess Bavil.


    It had plenty of pictures and illustrations on its pages, which must have caught little Reon¡¯s attention.


    I placed the light source on the small table next to the bed and lay down beside the boy.


    ¨C Do you want me to read it to help you fall asleep?


    With bright, eager eyes, he quickly handed it over to me.

 Chapter 5: The twins

    With the romance storybook in hand, I skimmed through the pages briefly before starting to read. The stories didn¡¯t seem too long, but I decided I¡¯d only read one per day.


    As I began reading aloud, I turned back to the first lines of the page:


    ¡° Once upon a time, there was a princess named Bavil, dearly loved by her kingdom and her parents. But one day, a lord known for being so wicked that no woman would ever want to marry him was promised as Bavil¡¯s betrothed. Before Bavil could marry, however, she had to pass a test. Soon after, she was kidnapped by the lord and forced to listen to horror stories every night before bed.


    Seeing that Bavil didn¡¯t seem frightened by anything he told her, the lord promised that if she could make him fall asleep for 100 nights in a row, she would be freed from the marriage.


    And so, Bavil began her journey, telling the lord stories she had heard from her people to lull him to sleep. ¡°


    ¨C Well, it seems like another one fell asleep before the stories even began. ¨C I muttered. The boy clutching the blanket had already closed his eyes, drifting into a deep slumber. I turned off the old lantern and placed the book on the floor, where it was easier to find. Climbing back into bed, I pulled Reon¡¯s blanket over us both, tucking us in together.


    ¨C Goodnight, Reon. ¨C I whispered, gently ruffling his hair before closing my eyes, feeling drowsy...


    [...]


    Morning had come, and I could feel the air growing colder since yesterday¡¯s rain. We had slept so well to the sound of the raindrops and the storm, but the only downside was the leaks that had sprung up everywhere.


    I got out of bed before Reon and took the opportunity to fill the bathtub for my morning bath. As I undressed, I noticed more red marks on my body when I looked in the mirror. Some pesky insect must have been feasting on me during the night, as the broken windows allowed all sorts of critters into the room.


    After finishing my bath, I put on some small men¡¯s clothes that allowed for easier movement, since I wasn¡¯t used to wearing such glamorous dresses.


    By then, Reon had just opened his eyes, stumbling out of bed groggily as he looked around for me.


    Thinking about the older boys from yesterday, I wanted to prepare in case they showed up again. But before I could, I heard voices calling from the front door of the mansion, echoing through the empty main hall.


    ¨C Hello? Anyone there? ¨C It was Penelope¡¯s voice.


    ¨C We brought food! ¨C Cedric chimed in, his voice resonating alongside Penelope¡¯s.


    With Reon, I went downstairs and hid behind the banister of the staircase leading to the first floor.


    ¨C What the hell are they doing here? Trying to win us over with food? ¨C I thought, my mouth watering with hunger.


    I wiped the drool from my mouth with the back of my hand while gripping the wooden railing. Soon, they gave up waiting outside and quietly opened the door to the mansion. Cedric was the first to enter, peeking through the crack before stepping in.


    ¨C Excuse us! ¨C The redheaded boy entered, looking around as he carried a basket that smelled delicious. After scanning the room with his eyes, he quickly spotted me on the stairs, along with Reon.


    ¨C Shall we have breakfast together? ¨C He smiled, his eyes closing as he held up the basket. Penelope, peeking from behind the door, seemed hesitant to enter but followed her brother shortly after, afraid of being left alone outside.


    ¨C Do you really think it¡¯s safe to enter the devil¡¯s den? ¨C the girl whispered into her brother¡¯s ear.


    ¨C Don¡¯t say that, Penelope. The devil would have horns, not twigs on his head.


    As I listened to their conversation, I descended the stairs step by step, still suspicious of their intentions. Reon didn¡¯t want to hide behind me and walked confidently by my side, his head held high, looking as if he was ready to attack them like a guard dog.


    ¨C Calm down, Reon. If they seem aggressive, we¡¯ll handle it. ¨C I said, patting his head.


    ¨C So, what are you doing here again?! ¨C I stood in the middle of the staircase, looking down at them.


    ¨C We come in peace! We¡¯ve brought this humble basket with breads, hot chocolate, and fruits! ¨C Cedric began approaching again like he had yesterday, slyly and with no sense of personal space.


    ¡°Did they really come to bribe us? ¡° Even though I scowled as if to tell them to leave, the drool dripping from my mouth and the growling of my stomach betrayed me.


    ¨C Don¡¯t come any closer! ¨C I shouted threateningly from above.


    ¨C Alright, I¡¯ll leave it here at the bottom. ¨C Cedric said, placing the basket on the first step of the staircase and backing away.


    ¨C Weren¡¯t we supposed to get closer to them? ¨C Penelope grabbed her brother¡¯s shoulders, annoyed.


    This time, I noticed they were wearing winter clothes, with a white fox fur draped over their shoulders. Their outfits matched, with deep burgundy red and black leather gloves.


    The boy and his sister sneezed in unison, their faces turning slightly red.


    ¨C Let¡¯s go back home. Yesterday¡¯s rain must have given us a cold. ¨C Cedric said, taking his sister¡¯s hand and starting to leave.


    ¨C Wait! ¨C I called out, stopping them in their tracks. They both turned to me, confused.


    ¨C If you tell me why you were following me in the village¡­ I¡¯ll consider letting you eat with us¡­


    ¨C I felt a bit embarrassed for changing my mind so quickly about giving them a chance, but if a street dweller distrusted everyone who offered food, they¡¯d starve, just like I was at that moment.


    Penelope seemed skeptical, but every time her eyes met mine, they quickly shifted to Reon, as if there was something she wanted to ask. Her curiosity seemed stronger than her fear of the boy.


    Cedric let go of Penelope¡¯s hand and placed his hand on his chest, greeting us like a knight.


    ¨C Thank you, miss.


    ¡°As long as they bring more food next time, I¡¯m fine with this exchange. ¡° I thought. Reon and I exchanged glances¡ªor something like that. I gave a slight nod, signaling my agreement but also to stay on guard, while the boy seemed to say he didn¡¯t like any of this.


    [...]


    In the dining room on the second floor, the table and the tablecloth had been hastily arranged, though the cloth had been removed earlier because it was dirty. Penelope, sitting in her chair, looked both scowling and disgusted, as if the idea of eating with her hands was unthinkable for a noble lady. Cedric, however, didn¡¯t fuss. He split the bread in half and dipped it into the cup of milk he had brought from home.


    ¨C What is this? ¨C I asked, trying to eat without seeming rude, but the way everyone kept glancing at each other was giving me indigestion. ¨C Start talking. That was the condition.


    The redheaded teenager smiled with your closed eyes,  as he set the bread on the cup and wiped his mouth lightly with his handkerchief.


    ¨C This little creature by your side¡­ Reon, right? Do you know who he is? ¨C Cedric turned his gaze to me, interlacing his fingers.


    ¨C If this is about that demon nonsense again, you can leave, ¨C I cut in.


    ¨C We have no reason to lie. He¡¯s probably the son the emperor left to die. ¨C


    ¨C What do you mean? Are you talking about the empress¡¯s story? ¨C I asked, holding a butter


    knife as I sliced an apple and placed the pieces on a small plate. Reon, sitting beside me, happily drank peach juice but stayed away from the milk on the table, as if he didn¡¯t even want to look at it.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¨C So you know the story¡­ I hope whoever told you isn¡¯t afraid of death, ¨C Cedric said, glancing briefly at his sister, who still hadn¡¯t eaten anything and was just glaring at the three of us, displeased.


    ¨C He seems pretty docile, and small¡­ In the end, his existence was almost erased, if he hadn¡¯t survived. He doesn¡¯t look like the demons from the stories I read in church.


    Penelope sighed and shrugged, finally seeming to relax enough to start talking ¨C This is all wrong! The demon should have horns! ¨C she exclaimed. ¨C Girl, what¡¯s your name? ¨C


    I didn¡¯t want to answer.


    She had asked so rudely. I pressed my lips together as if they were sewn shut.


    ¨C Calm down, little sister. We should introduce ourselves first, shouldn¡¯t we? ¨C Cedric straightened in his chair, sitting upright. ¨C I¡¯m Cedric Mortheu, the second son of House Mortheu, a baronial family. ¨C He looked at his sister, expecting her to do the same, but she just ignored him. ¨C And this is my sister, Pen¨¦lope Mortheu, the first daughter of House Mortheu. We were born together. ¨C he said, pointing at himself and then at her, as if wanting us to compare their similarities.


    ¨C I can tell. Same face¡­ ¨C I replied sarcastically.


    After finishing slicing the apples, I started eating them with my hands, while Reon picked up a piece, licked it, and then put it back.


    ¨C Don¡¯t do that, Reon. If you can¡¯t eat it, let me mash it for you.


    Pen¨¦lope finally seemed to break out of her silent observation and started eating the peaches, asking her brother to peel them for her.


    ¨C We have an older brother too. He¡¯s six years older than us. He¡¯ll be turning 21 this year. ¨C


    I still wasn¡¯t sure where he was going with this, but as long as I could fill my stomach, I didn¡¯t mind listening to their nonsense.


    ¨C Now, what¡¯s your name? ¨C Pen¨¦lope asked again, this time more gently.


    ¨C Lucia.¨C I replied, my mouth full.


    ¨C Lucia, why are you in the Vespertine mansion taking care of¡­ that? ¨C She pointed at Reon with her index finger.


    ¨C None of your business. ¨C I said, giving her a deadly glare as I chewed the apple. ¨C I want to know why you were following me!


    ¨C You know, red eyes aren¡¯t common. In fact, I¡¯d say they don¡¯t exist. And hooded children are strange¡­¨C Cedric explained, taking a sip of milk.


    ¡°Just like Mr. Gather said, walking around in a hood during the day in a small village is eye-catching¡­ ¡°


    ¨C If only it were just that¡­ But there¡¯s another reason.


    ¨C Are you really going to tell them that?! ¨C Pen¨¦lope interrupted, showing strong opposition to her brother, gesturing exaggeratedly.


    ¨C Why shouldn¡¯t I? It¡¯s true that our brother is different ¨C he shrugged. ¨C That¡¯s what I wanted to understand, Lucia. Our older brother also has red eyes.


    I stopped eating to think, but I wasn¡¯t sure if this was something to be shocked about. I didn¡¯t have the same understanding of things as they did, since I wasn¡¯t born in this world.


    ¨C What does that have to do with me and Reon? ¨C I shrugged, raising an eyebrow in doubt.


    ¨C Our mother was once one of the women of the sanctuary, the same empire the former Empress came from.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to complicate things for myself, but could these coincidences be related somehow?¡±


    ¨C You still don¡¯t get it, Lucia? ¨C Cedric leaned on the table with his elbows, interlacing his fingers again and looking up at me. ¨C Your friend Reon is the son of the late Empress.


    I slapped my forehead in surprise and stared at Reon, shocked. My face turned as white as snow, and my hands trembled.


    ¡°You mean Reon is actually grown?!¡±


    ¨C Are you serious, girl?! I can¡¯t believe you didn¡¯t pick up on the hints ¨C Penelope mocked me for not noticing something so obvious. It made sense¡ªthe Vespertine diary mentioned a creature trapped in this house, and until now, I hadn¡¯t seen any signs of it.


    All this time, the creature has been by my side, sleeping in the same bed and being cared for like a baby!


    ¨C No¡­ It¡¯s just¡­ I don¡¯t know, I thought the demon would be some horned animal, with bat wings and a tail¡­ ¨C I started to justify myself, embarrassed by my slowness.


    ¨C Ridiculous! ¨C The girl angrily chewed the rest of the fruit her brother had peeled for her.


    ¨C Lucia, what we want to know is if the boy with you is really what we¡¯ve heard he is; A demon.


    ¨C As ugly as he is¡­ But mom said we shouldn¡¯t judge by appearances. ¨C Penelope talked too much, and I almost shoved a piece of bread into her mouth to shut her up.


    ¨C You said your brother also has red eyes, but he¡¯s not like Reon, right?


    ¨C Not at all. He¡¯s handsome and kind, very mature. The only problem is that he¡­ ¨C Penelope stopped talking and looked at her brother as if waiting for a signal.


    ¨C He¡¯s blind. He won¡¯t even be able to take over the duchy. ¨C Cedric finished.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ Should I keep asking questions? I don¡¯t want to get too involved with them¡­¡±


    ¨C Well, I think we¡¯ve said enough. If you want to know more, you can start inviting us over for meals!


    ¨C Look, Cedric¡­ This isn¡¯t exactly a comfortable place for nobles like you¡­ We don¡¯t have much to show¡­


    ¨C It¡¯s fine. We can bring some things over.


    ¡°They¡¯ll come, and we¡¯ll have food every day?¡±


    ¨C Then you¡¯re invited for lunch and dinner with us too! You¡¯re very welcome! ¨C Reon looked at me, bewildered, as if I had sold myself out for food.


    ¨C Pi pi pi, pi, ¨C the boy said fervently.


    ¨C Well said, Reon! How can we trust you? You¡¯re not going to want something in return, are you? ¨C I shook my head, agreeing with him. My apple was gone, but there was still plenty of food left, even some sweet bread.


    ¨C Of course, we¡¯re not giving everything for free. I just want to be able to train in peace.¨C Cedric said, standing up from his chair and grabbing his jacket hanging on the back of it. His gaze wandered for a moment but returned to me and Reon with a pained smile.


    ¨C And I want to study to become the heir princess! ¨C Penelope replied excitedly and proudly. ¨C That¡¯s why I came with my parents to this dumpy little village. After all, the crown prince will be here soon!


    ¡°Big dreams for a 14-year-old¡­¡±


    ¨C So that¡¯s it? ¨C I got up from the chair to walk them to the door.


    ¨C See you later, then¡­ ¨C At the front door, I waved goodbye briefly.


    ¨C We¡¯ll be back soon, Lucia, ¨C Cedric said, sounding like an older brother comforting his little sister because he had to go to school. It was a feeling I didn¡¯t quite understand, but I realized later that it was something I might never experience again.


    [...]


    Reon seemed mad at me. Whenever I tried to talk to him, he¡¯d turn his face away, pouting, and cross his arms, stomping his feet firmly on the ground.


    ¨C Geez¡­ Did I do something to you? ¨C Outside the mansion, with a large piece of paper in hand, we searched for the furnace or the room with all the plumbing. With the cold coming, I couldn¡¯t risk our only way of staying warm breaking down.


    ¨C Reon, I feel like you know something about this¡­ ¨C There were times during the day when Reon would come back covered in dirt and soot, and he knew where the coal pieces were. A furnace fire wouldn¡¯t last so long without someone tending to it.


    We walked in circles around the property several times until we veered off onto a path leading to the woods, where the stone tower stood tall even after 20 years of abandonment.


    ¨C Hey¡­ Isn¡¯t this where you were trapped? ¨C I grabbed his shoulders and turned him around, afraid he might still have some trauma. But instead, he looked up at me and then ran toward the tower.


    ¨C Wait! ¨C I ran after him until we reached the tower, its wooden door with dark planks held together by heavy metal.


    ¨C Are you going in? ¨C I tried to push the door open with my hand, but only a crack appeared. The boy then helped and managed to open it.


    He went in, and I followed right behind. The place was dark, with a massive spiral staircase that we climbed together until we reached a ¡°cell,¡± which was more like a cold room.


    It was a dull room with a pile of fabrics and straw serving as a bed on the floor, and toys made of old rags but well-sewn. The walls were stone, and the dampness brought a musty smell. There was only a small window letting in sunlight, barred with shiny silver, the same used on the little wooden door.


    ¨C Was this where you used to stay? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea for us to stay here too long¡­ ¨C I felt uncomfortable inside, noticing the chains fixed to the wall. I wasn¡¯t sure if the stains on them were rust or blood.


    Reon approached the bed and picked up a rag doll that looked like a ghost. It didn¡¯t seem like there was anything else he wanted to do, and soon he left. I, on the other hand, stayed a little longer, hoping that looking at the cell would help me understand him better or figure out what was going on in his head.


    [...]


    When we went back down, the boy led me to the room with the furnace, as I had imagined he would. All this time, he had been secretly working to keep the water warm.


    The room was underground, accessed through a trapdoor in the gardening storage. Inside, it was warm and comforting, and the reddish glow of the fire lit up the darkness. Reon brought pieces of coal and threw them into the fire, showing me how he did it.


    ¨C Wow! You know what you¡¯re doing! ¨C I praised him, making his cheeks turn slightly red, and he let out a small smile after being mad for so long.


    I don¡¯t know how to treat him anymore. Should I still teach him as if he didn¡¯t know anything?


    After seeing the room, I thought how comforting it would be to light a fireplace, like the one in the bedroom, while we¡¯re wrapped in a blanket, eating and talking together.


    Out of habit, I ran my hand over Reon¡¯s head, but he held onto my hand as I was about to pull away.


    ¨C What¡¯s wrong? ¨C Reon didn¡¯t react immediately. He also placed his hand on my head and gave me a gentle pat. I was surprised by his gesture¡ªmaybe he wanted to return the favor?


    Tears filled my eyes. It felt like I was breaking down over something I had kept inside for a long time, perhaps from the affection and kindness I received from someone who wasn¡¯t even human.


    He froze, searching for a response with his eyes, or maybe he wanted to do something but didn¡¯t know how to start. So, I hugged him, and he hugged me back.


    ¨C Let¡¯s go draw? ¨C I said, sniffling, wiping my tears on my sleeve.


    [...]


    It was almost lunchtime. The two of us had been drawing on the dining table until I remembered we needed to clean up and look for utensils and plates in the kitchen cabinet for lunch later.


    Standing on a wooden chair near the cabinet, I rummaged through the shelves looking for utensils but only found four porcelain plates, each with different colors, and silverware.


    ¡°Why is there so much silver in this house?!¡±


    The boy was rummaging through things, even spice jars and barrels of preserves, when he turned on the sink faucet, which now poured clean water. I got down from the chair to check, and sure enough, the plumbing seemed to have been fixed!


    ¨C Now we can finally clean the kitchen properly! ¨C I jumped for joy and went looking for a cloth and the piece of soap I had broken earlier. I filled several buckets with water and scrubbed everywhere, starting with the kitchen, cleaning the counters, washing all the utensils, bowls, jars, and pots. Then I moved on to the floor and the shelves.


    Reon helped me too, drying what was wet and replacing the dirty water with clean.


    Taking advantage of the clean kitchen, I was so excited that I started washing the dining room and the entrance hall, even cleaning the banisters.


    ¡°I said I didn¡¯t like living in a dirty place, but I don¡¯t like cleaning either.¡±


    Reon followed me everywhere with the water bucket and the makeshift mop I had made, but one misstep and he slipped on the smooth marble floor of the first floor. Water went everywhere, and from his head to his feet, he was covered in soap, with the bucket stuck on his foot.


    Achoo!


    Brrrrrrrrrr.


    I had to dry him quickly because, with the cold weather coming, he could easily catch a cold, as his sneeze just now foreshadowed.