In the spring of 1556, the world of Aredhia was shrouded in the mists of war. Two races, humans and demons, lived in an endless and relentless hostility. But in the midst of all the destruction, there was one young demon with a different story.
He was born with blue horns, a rare anomaly among his kind who had red or black horns. To his clan, blue horns were a bad omen, a bringer of shame and misfortune. Because of this anomaly, he was cast out into the forest as a baby, abandoned under an ancient, towering tree.
Without a family or a tribe, the young demon survived alone. He learned from nature, making tree roots his bed and the river his source of water. He ate wild berries and foraged for edible mushrooms, living far from the violence and hatred that were at the core of his people's lives. Solitude taught him the meaning of tranquility and gentleness. He often pondered why the war never stopped and why he had to hate humans he had never met.
One bright afternoon, as he was looking for berries in the forbidden Vesper Woods, which was the border between the demon and human territories, he got lost. His steps led him to a clear river, flowing between moss-covered rocks that connected to the sea he usually traversed. There, he saw a human girl. Her hair shone white like snow, decorated with A gardenia flower she wore on the right side of her hair, and her eyes were like the light of an emerald crystal, radiating calmness as she bent down to wash her face with the river water.
His heart pounded, not from fear, but from an unexpected beauty. The girl was the embodiment of the perfection of a being he had met during his life's journey. He wanted to get closer, to know more, but his foot tripped over a tree root, and he fell. The sound was so clear, it broke the magical silence.
The girl immediately stood up. She was surprised and turned around. She knew exactly where she was: on the border. And perhaps she knew exactly who might be there.
"Who's there?!" her voice was firm, trying to hide a tremor of fear.
When he rose from behind the bushes, the girl saw him clearly—a demon child with small blue horns. Her eyes widened, a cold fear running through her body. Her knees trembled, and she slowly backed away.
"A-A demon?! (Why is a creature like this around here??!)" her voice was choked. She didn't expect to meet a demon this close.
"This... this isn't possible."
She accidentally stumbled over a rock behind her. Her balance was lost, and her body fell into the river, her head hitting a rock hard. Suddenly, the river was filled with her blood all over her body. Her vision began to blur. Flashes of memory about her father who promised to protect her, and her loving mother, flashed through her mind. She thought, Maybe this is the last time. Goodbye, Father. Goodbye, Mother.
But just as her eyes were about to close, she saw something unexpected. The demon child quickly jumped and caught her before the river current could carry her towards the sea. The girl vaguely saw worried blue eyes and an anxious face, muttering something like a spell in a language she didn't understand towards the girl's head, far from the impression of a cruel demon. Her consciousness faded.
Rising from the Darkness
When the girl opened her eyes, she felt a gentle warmth and the scent of lily flowers. She was on the riverbank right where she had stumbled. Soft voices greeted her.
"Are you awake, my dear?"
She blinked her eyes, her vision still blurry. She tried to remember what had happened, but her head felt empty. She only remembered a river and falling, and then... darkness.
In front of her, a woman with the same blue eyes, smiled warmly, looking at her with great affection. Her peaceful face was a source of calm. And it was her mother.
"Mother?" the child asked, her voice hoarse, almost unable to produce any sound. Her mother quickly took a bottle of water from her small bag and gave it to her daughter to drink.
"Yes, it's me, darling. Are you okay?"
Her mother asked, in a tone full of concern.
"I've been looking for you everywhere. Don't make me worry like this again, you naughty child!" She hugged her mother tightly, tears wetting her shoulder.
"I'm okay, Mother. I just... found a beautiful flower garden just now and I washed my face here," the child answered, also crying and smiling a little.
(The girl was bewildered, because she had just felt a very severe wound on her head, but it was all gone, even the traces of her blood couldn't be found.)
"You're soaked. Did you fall into the river? Let's go home, you'll get sick," her mother said softly while helping her up.
On the way home, she tried to remember. Little by little, fragments of memory returned. The river, the fall, and then... worried blue eyes. An act of kindness she never expected.
"Mother..." She called, her voice innocent.
"Is it true... that there are demons with good hearts?"
Her mother stopped walking. Her face showed surprise, then a mysterious smile.
"Why are you asking that all of a sudden? Are you sick?"
"No! I'm just... just asking!!!" she shouted, her face red with embarrassment.
Her mother smiled again and said,
"Maybe there are, my dear. I always hope so. If there are, I hope they can be a turning point, to stop this war. But... that's just my wishful thinking."
"Hee.. I hope so, Mother!" She replied enthusiastically, her heart filled with new hope.
On the other side of the forest, the young demon returned to his hiding spot under the tree roots. He felt relieved, knowing that the girl was alright. He didn't know why he did it. Instinct, perhaps. An instinct he didn't realize he had. He was supposed to hate humans, to stay away from them, but something in the girl, her beauty and fragility, had touched something deeper within him, something that had been hidden for a long time.
He touched his cold blue horns, thinking about the words he had whispered—an ancient healing spell he had learned from nature, a secret he believed only his race could perform. But he never expected to use it to help a human. He had broken all the rules, all the teachings that were passed down, even if he only heard them from the whispers of the wind.
That night, under the bright moonlight, he reflected. The war, the hatred, the hostility... it all felt so meaningless now. He saw the girl's face, a face filled with fear that had turned into relief and gratitude. He thought about his mother's words, "a turning point." Was he that turning point? Could his small act, born from pure instinct, change the fate of a world that had long been locked in darkness? He didn't know the answer, but for the first time, he felt he had a purpose. He was no longer just surviving; he was living for something bigger than himself.
To be continued.