Nyra stays quiet the entire walk toward the village, and I don’t blame her.

  She looks fragile—like a single wrong word might shatter her.

  Anyone would be shaken after what happened earlier.

  As we reach the edge of the village, I look over my shoulder to check on her.

  She’s still holding tightly onto the hem of my shirt, head lowered to avoid the glances of passersby.

  Her steps feel small, hesitant.

  I gently reach back and take her hand.

  Her grip on my shirt loosens, and she lifts her head in surprise, green eyes widening just a little.

  Before she can say anything, I tug her along with me into the village.

  Our village is small—barely large enough to truly be called one.

  A few clustered homes, a tiny square, narrow alleys between buildings, and a handful of merchants selling food or simple goods.

  Quiet. Familiar.

  We’ve only walked a few steps when a soft voice calls out:

  “If it isn’t young Taseo. Out on your own again?”

  I turn to see a familiar face—one of the village elders.

  Father and I always greet her when we pass by. Father once told me she looked after me when I was still a baby.

  I stop and bow my head politely.

  “Ah, hello Granny. I hope you’re having a nice day!”

  Nyra freezes for a moment, then quickly bows her head as well, mimicking me.

  “What a good boy you are,” the elder says with a warm smile. “Be sure to greet your father from me!”

  She waves, and we continue on. Nyra looks back over her shoulder, as if expecting… something.

  I can’t tell if it’s fear or habit.

  As we wander deeper into the village, I greet the occasional local—faces I know because of Father.

  Little by little, Nyra’s steps grow less hesitant.

  Her hand relaxes in mine.

  Her posture straightens.

  She’s opening up.

  Just a little… but enough to make me smile.

  “Are you feeling better?” I ask as we slow near the square, glancing back at her.

  She nods softly.

  “Yeah… a little.”

  Her voice is still timid, but she answers immediately this time.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Those kids from earlier won’t try anything here,” I say confidently.

  In truth, it’s only Father’s reputation that protects me.

  A high-ranking General’s son is treated differently—even if I’m a Claw Demon.

  They won’t dare to insult me openly.

  But Nyra…?

  I notice two residents whispering to each other while shooting glances at her.

  I’m not the only one who sees it.

  Nyra lowers her head again, shoulders tensing as if bracing for impact.

  I know that feeling far too well.

  Some villagers don’t like the sight of her—another demon race looked down upon.

  My grip tightens gently around her hand.

  She looks up, startled, as I force a reassuring smile.

  “Come on. Have you ever visited the local baker?”

  She shakes her head faintly.

  “You never noticed the nice smell in the village?” I ask.

  Her free hand presses against her chest nervously.

  “I… I usually don’t go into the village.”

  Her voice shrinks again, embarrassed.

  “Oh? Then you’ve never tasted the fresh bread from here?”

  “N-Not really, no…”

  There’s pain in her voice.

  Loneliness too.

  Without hesitation, I pull her along.

  “You’ll love it! It tastes amazing.”

  This time, she doesn’t just follow—

  she runs beside me.

  Wanting to leave all those eyes behind.

  We reach the small stand in front of the bakery.

  The owner greets me with the same friendly warmth as always—but his face stiffens when he sees Nyra.

  He stares for a moment, silent.

  Then he sighs lightly, forces a smile, and hands me a freshly baked bun.

  I thank him and bow.

  Nyra imitates me again quietly.

  We hurry away from the square and slip into a small alley where a set of steps sits tucked away from sight.

  I sit down and gesture for Nyra to join me.

  She hesitates—but eventually sits beside me.

  I tear the bread in half and hold one piece out to her.

  She stares at it as if it might vanish.

  Then looks at me.

  “Is… is it really okay if I take it?”

  My chest tightens a little.

  Even something so small is new to her.

  “Of course, silly. I offered it to you.”

  She hesitates one more second before taking it.

  After staring at it briefly, she takes a cautious bite.

  Her eyes widen.

  They sparkle.

  She begins eating eagerly, small crumbs gathering at her lips.

  Then she suddenly freezes, blushing, and looks away.

  “I-It’s very good.”

  “I can tell,” I reply with a grin.

  She continues eating at a slower pace now, embarrassed by her earlier enthusiasm.

  I watch her quietly.

  Seeing her relax—even a little—fills me with warmth.

  If I can give her even a moment without worrying about what other demons think… I’m glad.

  When she finishes her half, I hold out my half toward her.

  She shakes her head quickly.

  “N-No, thank you… I can’t. It’s yours. And I’m full, anyway.”

  Right on cue, her stomach growls loudly.

  A smirk forms on my face.

  “Full, huh?”

  I nudge the bread closer.

  “Go on. No need to hide it.”

  Her cheeks turn bright red, and she accepts the piece with trembling hands.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “T-Thank you…”

  I stare out toward the nearby street while Nyra finishes eating.

  Luckily, the village is quieter than usual today. With any luck, there won’t be many unpleasant encounters.

  My gaze drifts upward.

  The sky is still dark and heavy, like a storm that refuses to break.

  It feels… wrong somehow.

  Unsettling.

  “Taseo…?”

  I blink and turn back toward Nyra.

  She’s finished the bread and is looking at me with worried eyes.

  “You zoned out. Are you okay? Does… does it still hurt?”

  It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about the earlier beating.

  “Oh—no. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”

  Now that she mentions it, the pain really is gone.

  Even the soreness faded.

  Guess it was just the shock of the moment.

  She lowers her voice again.

  “Are you… worried about the way people have been looking at us?”

  “Huh? No. Why would I be?”

  She fidgets with the hem of her clothes, tiny fingers trembling.

  “It’s just…”

  Her voice fades into silence.

  A long pause passes before she speaks again.

  “It would be better… if you weren’t seen with me.”

  I blink.

  “What do you mean?”

  She lowers her gaze, refusing eye contact.

  It isn’t shyness.

  And it isn’t embarrassment.

  Her eyes carry something heavier—shame.

  “You know I’m an Emberborn… right?”

  The name rings a faint bell.

  Father told me about some of the other demon races who share similar fates to ours.

  Different blood… same treatment.

  Judged not by character, but by strength.

  Emberborn…

  They aren’t known for fighting.

  But Father said they’re resilient in cold climates, able to generate warmth from the markings they’re born with.

  Useful, but not respected.

  I look her over again:

  Warm, tanned skin—almost reddish in the right light.

  Bright green eyes, expressive enough to read without words.

  Dark markings across her neck and hands that look almost like ink.

  Short, dark-brown hair framing her face.

  Anyone paying attention should notice she’s a girl…

  But maybe those bullies didn’t look closely enough.

  “I don’t care,” I say simply.

  Her head snaps up, eyes widening.

  “You… don’t?”

  I shake my head.

  “You didn’t mind being seen with me either, right? And you heard what they called me earlier.”

  She stiffens.

  “Y-Yeah…”

  I stand and dust off my pants.

  The silence that follows is heavy—almost painful.

  There’s a reason I don’t have any friends my age.

  A reason I always keep my distance.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be seen with me,” I say quietly. “Those kids might come after you again if you hang around someone like me.”

  I force a small smile as I look back at her.

  “Please take care of yourself, okay?”

  Her fists tighten in her lap.

  Her shoulders tremble.

  But she doesn’t say a word.

  So I turn… and begin to walk away.

  “But…!”

  I freeze.

  When I glance back, Nyra is holding onto my shirt again—small fingers grasping desperately.

  “I don’t want you to leave!”

  Her eyes meet mine—glossy, trembling, filled with tears she’s trying to hold back.

  “I… I want to be your friend. I don’t care if people think badly of me for it.”

  Her voice shakes, but the determination inside it is unmistakable.

  “So please…”

  Her grip tightens.

  “Please don’t leave me alone again.”

  Her words strike deeper than any blow I took today.

  I’m an idiot.

  I was so used to people pushing me away—so used to protecting myself—that I almost did the same to her.

  “Mhm… I won’t,” I say softly. “I promise.”

  Tears spill down her cheeks as I nod.

  Her eyes overflow.

  She pushes herself to her feet and throws her arms around me,

  clinging with trembling hands—

  as if letting go would mean I’d vanish from her life forever.

  Her small body shakes against me, fear and relief woven into every sob.

  Hesitant at first, I place one hand on her head… and the other on her back.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was stupid.”

  A few minutes pass as we remain like this, waiting patiently for her to calm down and collect herself. My gaze drifts upwards, towards the sky.

  Come to think of it, I might be Nyra's first real friend. But, at the same time, she was mine as well. Time seems to slip by unnoticed.

  After a while, she pulls away from me, her head low. She probably feels uncomfortable after her outburst. It’s probably best not to address it directly, to avoid making her feel worse.

  "Hey, how about I show you where I live?" I smile gently, trying to lighten the mood. "That way, you can come over whenever you like, so we can play."

  She lifts her head slightly, her eyes peering up at me from under the weight of her lowered gaze. The corners of her eyes are still faintly red from the outburst. She nods, her movement hesitant.

  "That would be nice."

  Her voice is quiet, still shaky, but it's there. I take her hand again and begin leading her toward the edge of the village. We pass a few people along the way—some ignore us, while others shake their heads in disapproval.

  Before she has a chance to feel bad about the looks from some of the villagers, I squeeze her hand gently to shift her focus onto me.

  "Father will like you. He loves Emberborn."

  She looks up at me as I pull her along, but she seems eager to leave the area, running with me.

  "He always says they're some of the nicest and gentlest people he's ever met."

  Her grip tightens slightly at my words. We continue on, reaching the small road that connects the village to my home. It's still a bit of a walk, so I slow down after we’ve run the first few meters.

  After a while, I let go of her hand. She seems calm and collected now that we’ve left the village behind. As we walk, I tell her a few of the stories Father always shared with me—his battles, his trips outside our small land. She listens, captivated, her eyes sparkling a little whenever I mention something new she hasn’t heard of before.

  Before we realize it, we pass the field where I met her today. She glances at it for a moment, then, after a deep breath, she faces forward again and continues walking beside me. She’s probably still thinking about it, but she’s doing her best to move forward. I admire that.

  We lose ourselves in conversation until we reach the last stretch towards my home.

  "No way! You’re making this up..." She shakes her head in disbelief.

  "I’m not! My father told me how funny he thought it was." I spread my arms, making a wide gesture. "He said the boar was huge! Bigger than two men!"

  Nyra laughs softly.

  "And he said those are still the smaller creatures out there. There are tales of monsters as big as mountains."

  She shakes her head.

  "Now you’re making fun of me. There couldn’t be."

  "But could you imagine being able to beat something so big? Nobody would ever doubt your strength then."

  "Or you’d get squished!" She exaggerates dramatically.

  We both laugh for a moment, until a voice pierces the lighthearted moment.

  "Taseo!"

  It’s a woman’s voice—stern and determined. Somehow, it sounds familiar.

  As I turn towards my house, I see her. The woman Father spoke to earlier today stands at the entrance of our yard, her arms crossed, her expression serious, as if I'm about to get a lecture.

  I hesitate. After a moment, I step forward and bow quickly in greeting.

  "It’s nice to meet you ag—"

  "Get over here!" She cuts me off, her voice cold as ice.

  I swallow, taking a few more hesitant steps forward after exchanging a glance with Nyra. She stays behind me, nervously fidgeting with her hands as she watches.

  Just as I reach the woman, she firmly grabs my shoulder and shoves me into the yard. Her attention turns toward Nyra.

  "You need to go home."

  Nyra lowers her head, and after a second, she nods.

  "I understand. I apologize for the inconvenience."

  "No! She doesn’t have to!" I burst out, my emotions getting the better of me. Nyra felt bad enough today, and I won’t let her feel that way again.

  The woman’s gaze snaps to me. Her expression remains cold and emotionless, her red eyes glaring at mine.

  This woman has no right to treat my friend like that, even if she’s close to Father.

  After a moment of holding her gaze, she sighs.

  "Fine then. Just don’t get in the way."

  Nyra looks at her hesitantly, then back at me, before slowly walking past her through the gate of the small stone fence around our yard. The woman makes no move to stop her.

  Turning back to me, her crimson eyes glare once again.

  "You only trained once with Alistair, correct?"

  Training? Why is she talking about that all of a sudden?

  "Y-Yeah." The whole situation feels strange.

  "Show me what you learned from that."

  She removes her coat, tossing it aside with a heavy thud. Then, she takes a step forward and assumes a defensive stance, hands forming fists.

  I’m supposed to show her what I learned?

  The training earlier today—if you can even call it that—was nothing but me flailing around like a child. Does she actually think I could learn from just that?

  The air is thick with silence.

  Nyra looks from one of us to the other, her small hand clutching her chest. A bead of sweat runs down my cheek. It doesn’t look like she’s backing down, and her tone and expression leave no room for doubt—she’s serious.

  I slowly raise my hands, mimicking Father’s stance as best I can. With a single nod, I agree. It’s unlikely there’s any way to avoid this, but why is she here? And where is Father? They left together—what’s going on here?

  "Can you tell me where my father is?" I ask hesitantly.

  She just looks at me, her expression still serious, not saying a word. It doesn’t seem like she wants to talk.

  I swallow again.

  "Get ready!"

  I dash forward, my legs pumping as fast as they can carry me. As I close the distance between us, I use my left arm to push one of her arms aside, creating a small opening.

  My eyes dart to her exposed flank—I actually have a chance to land a hit!

  Just as I swing a right hook toward her, a sharp pain shoots through my right hand. All the air leaves my lungs, and a numbness spreads through my stomach. My vision blurs, and I collapse backward onto the ground with a force that takes the wind out of me.

  I drop to my knees, my forehead pressed against the dirt for support, clutching my stomach with both arms.

  What just happened?

  How could she move so fast?

  I could barely see what she did.

  With a single hand, she swatted my fist aside and landed a jab to my gut. She didn’t even go all out. She just stopped my attack.

  The woman lowers the fist she struck me with and assumes her position once again.

  "Get up. Try again."

  Her determination remains unbroken.

  "B-But Ma’am, he’s hurt. Isn’t this enough?" Nyra tries to intervene, but she’s cut off.

  "Be quiet, girl!" Her voice is as cold as before.

  I’m still gasping for air from the blow. The beating I took earlier today seems insignificant compared to this.

  "Can’t you see he’s hurt?" Nyra’s voice trembles as she calls out. "At least give him a chance—"

  She’s cut off again.

  "I said be quiet, girl!" The annoyance is evident in her tone.

  Nyra flinches, but she stays silent.

  "H-hey, don’t you dare talk to Nyra like that!" I struggle to push myself up, still gasping for air. My temper flares once more. This woman is not going to hurt my only friend, especially not for trying to stand up for me.

  But getting the story out of my system and out into the world makes me happy.

  Never thought writing would be the thing to lighten up my day.

  Its my first and probably only story i am writing to dont judge it too harshly.

  Thanks to the few people who read it.