The next morning broke heavily, as if the sun itself hesitated to rise over us. Mist clung low to the earth, veiling the hills like pale shrouds, and the village gathered in silence beneath the hollow toll of the old brass bell.
We buried Hedric at dawn. His body was wrapped in white cloth, tied with a single length of ash-grey rope, and lowered into the soil that had known his sweat, his stubborn laughter, his hand on a plough when demons weren't clawing at the edges of our lives.
The earth swallowed him whole, the thud of dirt against the cloth muffled.
The villagers stood in a half-circle, heads bowed, hands pressed together in prayer. They murmured words, blessings that promised rest and warmth in the afterlife, though no one here looked like they believed it.
I watched all of this, but it wasn't theirs that cut me—it was mine.
Did he really die to the serpent? Or because of my mistakes.
A sour weight pressed against my ribs, refusing to leave
But the lie didn't sit well. I could still see it: his hand pushing me away, him sacrificing his life to protect us. He chose to take it. And somehow, that choice clung to me as though I'd forced it.
The guilt knotted tighter when I caught Celia watching me. She stood at my side, her hands folded, lashes lowered as though she, too, prayed—but her thumb brushed against my wrist.
Yeah… her and I are here today because of Hedric. I can't get caught up thinking about the past. I'll have to move on and do better. Much better.
I turned my head slightly, and our eyes met. Hers were red from sleeplessness, but still warm, still carrying that stubborn glow that never let me look away. For a moment—just a moment—I felt something ease inside my chest.
But then, over her shoulder, I saw Lucas.
He stood further back, not part of the front circle but not absent either. His gaze wasn't on Hedric's grave.
It was on her. On Celia.
And though he wore that same calm mask he always did, his eyes told another story.
I can't read what he was thinking… but it felt so wrong.
After that Celia and I returned back to our home.
The next thing was ensuring Celia could safely live with us, which brings us to now... Mom was sitting on a chair, while Celia and I stood together. Dad was outside, speaking with the elders, and Serenya was still with Lucas, probably trying to comfort him.
"Mom... I want to request something," I said.
The atmosphere still carried the weight of the earlier prayer, the air heavy with sorrow. But I couldn't delay the inevitable any longer.
"Can Celia stay with us? She has no home, no family, no one to go to... she's all alone."
Silence followed my words. Mom shook her head slowly.
"No."
Mom's answer hit me harder than I thought it would. The way she shook her head—gentle but certain—made my chest tense. For a moment, I thought I'd misheard her, until her eyes shifted from me and landed on Celia.
"Come here."
I froze. The softness in her tone wasn't rejection—it was something else.
Celia's hands fidgeted against her dress, and she lowered her head. Her shoulders looked so fragile, as if a single word could snap them. Mom leaned forward in her chair, her eyes fixed on Celia.
"Do you want to live with us?"
Celia hesitated. Her lips parted, then closed again, as if the words themselves were heavy stones in her throat. When she finally spoke, it was almost a whisper.
"…Please."
She didn't say more. Not why, not how. Just that one word, as if it contained everything.
Mom tilted her head, a patient smile tugging at her lips. "That's not enough for me, dear. Why do you want to stay with us?"
Celia's breath hitched. Her voice stumbled and broke as she tried to form words.
"I–I… I want to… have a family…" Her small hands clutched the fabric at her waist. "My mother… disappeared… and I want to go back to her… but I know I can't…"
Her eyes blurred with tears, her voice shaking under the weight of what she carried.
"I just… If it isn't too much to ask…I know I'm being selfish but... I just want to be loved…"
The words collapsed into sobs. Celia started crying again.
That was when Mom moved. She stood, no hesitation, and reached out to take Celia's trembling hand. Without giving her the chance to pull away, she drew her into her arms and wrapped her close.
I could see Celia's shoulders shaking against Mom's chest, and Mom's hand stroking her back with slow, steady circles.
"The price of loving someone very much," Mom whispered, "is never loving anyone again. You're very brave to say you just want to be loved at your age."
Celia couldn't answer. Her tears only fell faster, dampening Mom's shoulder. She stuttered through her sobs, the words barely escaping her lips.
"T–thank you…"
And Mom just kept holding her, as if she'd known all along that this moment would come.
"Celia, listen to me," Mom's voice softened. "You're not alone anymore. If you stay here, you stay as a family. But—"
Her tone shifted, a sly edge curling at the corners. "Family means chores."
Celia blinked, caught off guard. "C-chores?"
"That's right. Let's see… first, you'll help me wash the laundry. We don't have enchanted basins here, so your delicate little hands will be wrinkled by the end."
"Yes, ma'am." Celia nodded cutely.
"Second, sweeping the floors. Don't miss a corner. Dust is a merciless enemy of humans, you know."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Third, you'll fetch water from the well. Buckets are heavy, but I suppose you can bring Kaiser along."
"Yes, ma'am."
What did I do to deserve that???
"Fourth, you'll help me peel vegetables for dinner. Slowly. Thoroughly."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Fifth," Mom leaned in, her voice playful but steady, "you'll help Serenya braid her hair when she's too moody to do it herself. Which, let me warn you, is often."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And lastly, sixth…" Selene paused, eyes glimmering with teasing mischief. "Stop calling me ma'am."
"…Yes, ma'am—"
A small silence lingered before Mom laughed, bright and unrestrained.
"Good heavens, child. You agreed to all of that without even blinking. Are you really that desperate to belong?"
Celia's voice cracked. "I just… I don't want to be thrown away again."
Mom's laughter softened into something tender. "Silly girl. I'm not throwing you away. I'm binding you closer. Chores are nothing but proof that you're part of us. Do you think I let strangers touch my stew?"
"…N-no."
"Exactly. Family helps each other, family eats together, family stays together. And now, you're family."
"…Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You'll regret it the moment your arms ache from the well."
"I won't regret it. Not if it means I'm here."
Celia was smiling again and was bonding with mother well…
Time to act.
I then slowly tried to leave to help Dad talk to the elders, but—
"Where do you think you're going, mister?" Mom said.
"Uhhh… I have to go out—"
"No." she cut me off.
"What?! Why?"
"Chores before work," she said firmly.
"But why??"
"Dishes before games."
"Mom…"
"Cutting grass before dinner," she added.
Celia suddenly started laughing at whatever Mom was saying.
Then Mom started laughing too.
Meanwhile, I just stood there looking completely clueless.
And wouldn't you know it? After all the dishes, chores, and cutting the grass, I was finally allowed to go out and help Dad talk to the elders—about her, about my life.
Just as I was about to leave, Celia came up behind me.
"Where are you going…?" she asked in a sad tone.
"Just out for a bit. Keep Mom company, okay?"
"But why are you leaving me so soon…" she said, sounding even sadder.
She wasn't acting like this earlier when Mom threw plates at me, or when I was outside cutting grass. But now… I saw her white hair gently swaying, her red eyes almost shimmering with tears. She really was attached to me.
"I'll be back soon, just have to talk to Dad."
"Can I come too?" she asked softly.
"It's bad if anyone in the village sees you… It's better if I go alone."
"But…" she looked down, disappointed.
"Can you help Mom with cooking instead?" I asked.
"H-Huh?".
I winked at her. "I wanna taste how you cook, Lia."
Then I turned around quickly, waving as I ran off. "Make some dinner for me!"
Celia blinked, cheeks pink, looking down at the vegetables in her hands.
"Y-yes, I'll… I'll try my best," she murmured.
Mom leaned back in her chair, a teasing smirk on her lips. "She's quick to obey, that one."
"She's learning," I called over my shoulder, already sprinting toward the door to meet Dad. But part of me lingered on the kitchen, wondering how Celia was holding up under Mom's playful bombardment of chores.
By the time I returned, the air smelled of simmering soup and sizzling vegetables. Celia stood at the counter, apron tied clumsily around her waist, her fingers working carefully over a pile of peeled carrots.
"Ah! Finally, taste time," I said, sliding into a stool at the table. "I've been waiting all morning."
Celia froze, eyes wide. "I-I haven't even finished yet…"
I grinned, resting my chin in my hands. "All the better. I like to taste the suspense first. Come on, Lia, let me see what you've made."
Mom laughed from behind, washing another bowl. "You're encouraging her, aren't you, Kaiser?"
"Of course!" I said firmly. "If anyone can make a perfect stew, it's Celia."
Celia hesitated, then finally brought a small wooden spoon over, carefully dipping it into the bubbling pot. She held it toward me like it was a fragile treasure.
"Careful," I said, leaning forward. "I might bite your fingers off if it's bad."
"I-I'll try not to," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
I tasted it, exaggeratedly closing my eyes. "Hmm… wow. Lia, this… this is amazing!"
Celia's blush deepened, and she glanced down at her feet. "R-really?"
"Really," I said, giving her a playful wink. "You might just be trying to impress me, aren't you?"
She frowned slightly, unsure how to respond. The corners of her lips twitched, though, hinting at a smile.
From the corner of the room, Serenya leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes narrow.
"Tch. And they let her cook?" she muttered, her voice low but sharp.
I shot her a warning glance. "Don't start, Serenya. She's learning. You can complain after dinner."
Serenya's jaw tightened, but she didn't move. Her amber eyes flicked between Celia and me, clearly displeased, though she didn't interfere… yet.
Celia glanced at her, a flicker of unease crossing her face. "I-I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't do anything wrong," I said quickly, sliding the spoon toward her again. "Ignore her. Focus on the stew."
Celia nodded, taking a small breath, and returned to her work, chopping vegetables with a newfound determination.
Mom leaned over, whispering softly, "She's learning faster than I expected. And she's not afraid of you, Kaiser, I see."
"Not afraid? Maybe just a little worried I'll eat everything before she gets a bite," I teased, stabbing a carrot with my fork.
Celia let out a quiet giggle, the sound light and genuine, and I felt that warmth settle again in my chest.
Serenya muttered something under her breath and stalked off to the corner, clearly sulking, but for now, she stayed silent.
I took another bite of the stew, savoring it, and called over, "Lia! Save me some, or I'll take the whole pot!"
She laughed softly this time, shaking her head. "I-I'll save you a little. Don't eat it all!"
Mom clapped her hands. "There you go. That's the spirit of family. You help, you cook, you taste, and you tease."
I leaned back, pretending to relax, but really watching her carefully. Celia hummed quietly to herself as she arranged the herbs we'd gathered earlier on the kitchen counter, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"You've got a good eye for these," I said, nodding toward the neatly stacked bundles.
She looked up, startled, and then smiled shyly. "I… I guess I like organizing things."
I grinned. "That's a talent too. Might come in handy around here."
Celia laughed softly, a delicate sound, and I felt a small flicker of relief. Maybe today wasn't all sorrow and fear.
By late morning, the village had begun to stir, and we stepped outside. Mist still clung to the earth, curling around the cottages like ghostly fingers. I could see some villagers eyeing Celia from a distance—old women muttering under their breath, children pausing in their play to glance at her.
One of the older men leaned on his cane, muttering, "That girl… she's not like us. Keep her away from the fountain."
"She's an elf," whispered a woman beside him, voice trembling with a mix of fear and suspicion.
I stepped closer to Celia, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. "Ignore them. They don't know you yet, but that'll change."
Celia's hand found mine, squeezing lightly. "I… I don't want anyone to hate me."
"You're not alone," I said firmly. "Not while I'm around."
We walked toward the square, and I could see my friends already gathered. Jaren and another boy, Mikel, were tossing a small wooden ball back and forth, laughing loudly. Lira and Tessa waved from near the fountain, their ribbons catching the sunlight.
"Hey, Kaiser!" Jaren called. "You brought someone?"
"This is Celia," I said. "She's staying with us now."
Mikel gave a small nod, eyes flicking toward Celia but said nothing. Lira and Tessa immediately ran up to her, smiles wide.
"Come play with us!" Lira said, tugging gently at Celia's hand.
"I… okay," Celia whispered, hesitant but smiling. I stayed nearby, letting her take the lead.
I noticed how her gaze occasionally flicked toward me whenever I laughed with the others, a subtle hesitation lingering in her movements. I kept my distance, letting her find her flow with the group while silently cheering her on.
As Celia started tossing the ball clumsily toward Jaren, I could see her slowly relaxing, her laughter mingling with theirs. I was about to make a joke when Lira jogged up to me, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
"Kaiser, look at this!" she said, holding up a bright red berry she'd found. "Do you think it's ripe enough?"
I leaned down, inspecting it with exaggerated seriousness. "Hmm… perfect. Definitely worth adding to the basket."
Tessa came up beside her, holding a few herbs. "And what about these? Are they okay for the stew later?"
I laughed softly. "Of course. I trust your judgment, like always."
Celia froze for a moment, her hands tightening slightly around the ball. I noticed her glance flicker toward us, eyes narrowing just a little as if measuring the closeness between us.
"You… you all know each other well," she said quietly, almost to herself.
I turned, giving her an encouraging smile. "Yeah. We've grown up together."
Celia bit her lip, forcing a small nod, but I caught the subtle tension in her shoulders. She shifted the ball from hand to hand, lingering near my side a little longer than before.
Lira handed me the berry basket. "Here, Kaiser. You take these. I'm sure you'll make the right choice."
I accepted it with a grin. "Thanks. You're spoiling me."
Tessa elbowed Lira gently, teasing. "See? You're already giving him everything!"
Celia's gaze flickered again, catching the easy laughter between us. She quickly looked away, tossing the ball toward Jaren.
"Celia, here!" I called, tossing the ball back to her. "Nice throw!"
She caught it, forcing a laugh, but I noticed her hands trembling just slightly.
Later, as we gathered near the fountain to rest, Lira sat beside me, laughing at some story Jaren was telling.
Celia stood a few steps back, fidgeting with her sleeves. I could see her eyes tracing our movements. She took a slow, deliberate breath and muttered, almost under her breath,
"I… I should… do something too."
"What was that?" I asked gently, turning to her.
"N-nothing," she stammered, forcing a smile.
I noticed her hesitation and decided it was time to shift the focus.
"Hey," I said, stepping closer, "want to show me your throw one more time? I think you can beat Jaren now."
Celia blinked, startled, but nodded. I crouched slightly to meet her level. "Come on, I'm all eyes for you."
Her lips curved into a small, unsure smile as she gripped the ball. I stayed close, offering an encouraging nod.
"Ready?" I asked.
She took a deep breath and threw. The ball sailed farther than before, and her eyes lit up with surprise.
"You did it!" I cheered, genuinely impressed. "That was perfect."
Celia's cheeks turned pink, and for a moment, she forgot about the others. I stayed by her side, watching her laugh quietly at her own success.
"Again?" she asked, eyes bright.
"Of course," I said, grinning. "I think I need a proper challenge, don't you?"
We went through a few more throws, laughter spilling between us. I caught her mistakes gently, praised the good ones, and she started relaxing, her earlier tension melting. Jaren, Mikel, Lira, and Tessa drifted around us, but I noticed how Celia's eyes stayed on me, following each word, each glance. I didn't realize why I was focusing on her so intently—something about her quiet determination drew me in.
After a while, I stepped back, letting her catch her breath. "You're doing better than most of the village kids," I said lightly, keeping my tone casual, though I stayed nearby.
Celia's small smile returned, genuine this time. "Thanks… Kai. I… I think I like playing like this."
I shrugged, pretending nonchalance. "I could use a good partner for practice. You'll keep me on my toes."
She laughed softly, and I realized I'd been giving her my full attention without noticing, forgetting the others entirely for a moment. Lira and Tessa waved from the fountain, but I didn't call back. My focus was entirely on Celia.
When she finally looked away from me, eyes lingering on the ball in her hands, I decided it was time we moved. "How about we explore a bit? I can show you around the village properly."
Celia's eyes widened. "Really? I… I'd like that."
"Good," I said. "Come on. You'll see the baker again, and there's the herb stall, and maybe even the stream. You'll love it there."
We walked out of the square, side by side. The morning sun warmed our backs, and the mist was beginning to lift, revealing more of the village, the thatched roofs, the small gardens, and the children playing along the narrow lanes.
"Do you live here all the time?" Celia asked, glancing around.
"Yeah," I replied. "Most of my life. But I like showing it off to newcomers, it's easier to appreciate when you're seeing it for the first time."
She nodded slowly. "It's… peaceful. I never… I've never seen a place like this before."
"You'll get used to it," I said, letting my voice soften naturally. "And don't worry. I'll be around. No one's going to make you feel out of place while I'm here."
Celia smiled faintly, and I caught the way she glanced at the other villagers as we passed. Some of them looked wary, muttering to each other. A few cast open suspicion toward her, whispered words about elves and strangers.
I tightened my grip slightly on the basket of herbs we'd picked. "Ignore them. Most of these people are just… cautious. They'll warm up to you, I promise."
Her hands brushed mine briefly. "Do… you really think so?"
"I know so," I said firmly, smiling. "Come on. Let's start with the bakery. Mrs. Tolen has a new batch of bread, and I think you should pick the first loaf."
Her face brightened at the suggestion, and we moved down the cobblestone lane. She asked questions about the village, the market, and even the small garden behind my house, and I answered each one patiently, letting her curiosity lead the way.
With each step, I noticed how she stayed close to me, watching my expressions, listening carefully. I didn't realize I was doing the same—keeping my attention entirely on her, laughing at her small jokes, guiding her gently when she faltered.
By the time we reached the fountain again, I could see Celia's shoulders had relaxed, her laughter freer than earlier. The village still whispered, still cast sidelong glances, but for now, it felt like it was just her and me, discovering this world together.
"Look at the water, Kaiser! It's… it's sparkling," Celia whispered, pointing at the creek.
"Yeah, it catches the sun just right this time of day," I said, smiling. "Want to try skipping a stone?"
Celia hesitated, then picked one up. "I… I'm not sure I can do it."
"You can," I encouraged. "Just aim, flick, and let go."
She mimicked my movements, and the stone skipped twice before sinking. Her eyes widened in surprise. "I did it!"
"You did! That's amazing!" I said, clapping softly. "See? I knew you could."
She beamed, and I stayed close, watching her laugh. "I didn't think I could do this, Kai!"
Hmm, now that I am with her for a while, I have noticed how she appreciates even the little things.
"You can do more than you think, Celia. Don't doubt yourself," I said, nudging her gently with my shoulder.
Just then, a familiar voice called from across the stream. "Brother, can we bring back our father?" that was Hiro..
From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas standing apart, leaning against a building. His calm, watchful gaze followed Celia as she moved with the others. He said nothing, but I felt his presence, distant yet perceptive.
"I remember him… he's from before, who carried Hedric.. You know him?" Celia whispered.
"He's… just someone who watches," I said lightly. "Not everyone jumps into things like Jaren and Mikel."
Celia frowned slightly. "He doesn't look… friendly."
"Not unfriendly either," I said. "He's just… cautious. You'll see."
Celia nodded slowly, then turned back to me. She caught my gaze again, a small, questioning look in her eyes. I smiled, giving her an encouraging nod.
"Good job, Celia!" I called when she finally managed a smooth toss. "I knew you could do it."
Her grin widened. "Thanks, Kai. I… I feel like I can do more now."
I stayed with her, laughing and teasing, making sure she never felt left out. "See? You belong here too," I said softly.
Celia's hands twitched slightly as she remembered her play together with my friends too then back at me. "I… I just… don't want to mess up," she admitted quietly.
"You won't," I said firmly. "Not while I'm around."
She smiled at that, and I realized how quickly she was starting to rely on me, not just for protection, but for guidance. And maybe, without realizing it, I was doing the same for her.
I barely had a moment to savor Celia's smile when a cold, cutting voice cut through the warmth of the day morning.
"You… you still actually let her stay?"
I turned sharply, and there was Serenya, standing at the edge of the fountain, arms crossed, amber eyes blazing. Her glare wasn't hidden by politeness or hesitation this time—it was pure, unfiltered anger.
I nudged Celia gently. "Uh… maybe we should head back?"
She shook her head, brushing water from her hands. "No, I… I'm fine."
Before I could argue, Serenya stormed over, her voice cutting like a whip. "Celia!" she barked. "What do you think you're doing here?"
Celia froze, her small hands gripping the ball tightly. "I—I'm just… playing."
Serenya stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Playing? You don't belong here! You're not one of us!"
I opened my mouth to defend her, but Serenya wasn't finished. She turned, raising her voice so the nearby villagers could hear. "Everyone! Look at this elf! She's been accepted like she's family, but she isn't! She's different, and you all know it!"
Murmurs rippled through the square. Old women whispered warnings, some of the children stopped their games to stare, and a few men muttered in agreement.
Celia's eyes widened, tears pricking at the corners. "S-Serenya… please…"
Serenya ignored her, glancing at me with a challenging glare. "Brother, you think you can just parade her around, make her part of our life, make us accept her? You're blind if you don't see what she is."
"Serenya… Celia is one of us now. That doesn't make her a threat. You don't have to approve, but you don't get to turn others against her."
Serenya's grin was cruel. "You think you can protect her from all of us? Let's see how brave you really are."
I stayed calm, looking at the villagers with quiet authority. "I'm not asking for blind trust. I'm asking for fairness. She hasn't harmed anyone here, and she doesn't deserve to be treated as an enemy. I can't let this escalate further, but I won't abandon her either."
Celia's grip on my sleeve trembled. I lowered my voice just enough for her to hear. "It's okay. Just stay close, we'll handle this together."
Serenya's eyes narrowed. "You're naive, brother. This village… my family… they see the truth. She doesn't belong."
I shook my head slowly, calmly. "Truth isn't decided by fear or prejudice. You can voice your opinion, but it doesn't make it fact. Celia is here, and I won't compromise that principle."
The villagers murmured, some uneasy at my composed tone. Even Serenya's smug expression flickered for a moment.
One of the older villagers, a woman with a lined face, stepped forward. "Kaiser… you are right. We should not treat her poorly. But…" Her voice faltered as she glanced at Serenya.
Serenya hissed, "But nothing! She is an elf! Her race hunted us humans for their enjoyment!"
I held my gaze. "Serenya, anger won't prove anything. But your words can either escalate this, or help calm it."
Celia clutched my sleeve tightly, her voice trembling. "Kai… don't get hurt because of me."
One of the younger villagers, a boy not more than sixteen, whispered to his friend, "Maybe… maybe he's right. She hasn't done anything bad."
Serenya's glare turned icy, but I kept my tone calm, almost patient. "You can voice your opinion, Serenya, but it doesn't make it truth. What matters is how we act. And I will act fairly."
She finally looked away, lips pressed tight. The tension didn't vanish, but the villagers' murmurs had shifted, some reluctant, some quietly supportive. Celia squeezed my hand, relief evident in her wide eyes.
I met her gaze and gave a small, reassuring nod.
Serenya crossed her arms, tapping her foot. "I don't care what you say. I'm not letting you do whatever you want here."
Celia took a careful step forward, her voice quiet but steady. "I… I'm not trying to bother anyone."
"Ugh! You always have to be in the way!" Serenya huffed, glaring at her like she'd just committed a crime.
Celia tilted her head, biting her lip. "I'm not in anyone's way. I just… want to belong. That's all."
I stepped closer, keeping my voice calm. "Serenya, you don't have to like her. You don't have to be friends. But being difficult for no reason… that's not fair. Celia isn't your enemy."
Serenya pouted, crossing her arms tighter. "I don't care! She's… annoying!"
Celia's shoulders slumped a little, but she didn't leave. "I see… I just… hope we can get along eventually."
Serenya made a dramatic groan, stamping her foot. "I'm not getting along with her. Ever. She's weird, and I don't have to pretend I like her."
I gave a small, patient nod. "That's your choice. But while she's here, you will at least stop making life miserable. You can be bratty, sure, but cruelty isn't like you."
Serenya stuck her tongue out and spun on her heel, muttering, "I still think she's weird."
Celia let out a tiny, quiet sigh, but her gaze softened, a hint of relief that Kaiser was there to handle this.
Serenya's amber eyes blazed, crossing the square with measured steps. "You… you think you can just waltz in here, take a place at our home, and everyone will accept you?"
Celia's small hands curled at her sides, but her voice didn't falter entirely. "I… I'm not trying to take anything! I just…"
"You just what?" Serenya snapped, stepping closer, voice sharp enough to make the villagers flinch. "You just want to ruin everything for the rest of us?"
"I… I'm not trying to ruin anything!" Celia admitted, her words trembling but honest. "I just… I want a home where people see me as more than a stranger."
Serenya's lips curled in a bitter smirk. "A home? You think being polite and baking bread makes you one of us? You don't fit here, Celia. Not to me, not to anyone who actually knows what family means."
"I'm not trying to replace anyone!" Celia's voice rose slightly, eyes welling with tears. "I just… I need a place where I'm loved, where I matter!"
"Loved?" Serenya crossed her arms, stepping so close that Celia instinctively backed up a step. "You think your little words and gestures can earn that?"
"I… I can try!" Celia whispered, voice cracking. "I can learn… I can do what it takes to be accepted!"
"Try?" Serenya cut her off, voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's your big plan? 'I'll try'? You think trying will change the fact that you're… different?"
"Enough." My voice cut through hers, but I kept it measured. "She's learning. That's it. If you have a problem with her, fine. But you don't get to decide how the rest of us see her."
Celia's bottom lip trembled. "I don't care about being different! I just… I want to know I'm not invisible, that there is someone to see me!"
"You want my approval?" Serenya's voice softened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes. "You'll never get it, Half-Elf. Never."
"You get chances by proving yourself," I said calmly, "not by screaming at someone. You can start by… stepping back for now."
Celia shot back, "I'm not asking for your approval yet!", courage building in her chest. "I just… I want to be treated like I belong anywhere, like my presence isn't a mistake!"
Serenya froze, staring at her like she hadn't expected such boldness. "Treated like you belong?" she hissed. "You think you understand belonging?"
"I—" Celia swallowed hard, meeting Serenya's glare head-on for the first time. "I want to be seen… for me!"
A tense silence stretched between them. Serenya's jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, it looked like she might lash out. Then she spun sharply, walking away, muttering, "This isn't over, elf. Don't think it is."
Celia exhaled shakily, relief and dread mingling on her face. "She… she hates me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I placed a hand on her shoulder, firm and steady. "Not everyone shows their feelings the same way. She's… complicated. But she's not gone yet."
Celia's gaze drifted toward the corner where Serenya lingered, arms crossed, watching us. "Do you… think she'll ever accept me?"
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "I don't know. But one thing's for sure—she's watching. And if you can face that…" I smiled faintly, squeezing her shoulder, "you're stronger than you think."
Celia nodded, taking a shaky breath, but her eyes never left Serenya. "I… I'll keep trying."
Serenya's sharp laugh cut across the square before she disappeared around the corner. "Trying won't save you, Celia. Just remember that."
Celia's shoulders slumped, but her grip on my sleeve tightened. "I… I won't give up."
I exhaled slowly, a mix of relief and unease settling in. "Good. You won't have to face her alone."
And as we turned back toward the fountain, a shadow lingered behind the alley—Serenya watching us, amber eyes sharp, and a silent challenge hanging in the air.
The tension between them wasn't over. In fact, it was only the beginning or so I thought.