I’d never seen so many people stare at us.

We must have looked absolutely crazy. An unconscious girl in full armor being held up by a large black man and another younger man with horns. How we made it safely and without attracting the attention of the guards of Auracle was beyond me.

Thankfully, the Refuge had a plan for everything. Although they hadn’t seen the attack coming and had so far done a poor job of combatting against it, they were prepared for it nonetheless.

As I stood in the basement of the bookstore we were hiding in, Gauss explained to me that the owners of these Refuge friendly businesses were called “Keepers” and their jobs were to protect refugees if and when something like this ever happened.

“But how does one become a Keeper?” I had asked.

“It’s generational. It’s passed down from father to son. It is a great honor to protect those who fight against the king of darkness.”

The bookkeeper, an elderly white-haired man named Pom-Pos, fed us while we tried our best to carefully take care of Deborah. I found that I couldn’t eat. My stomach was in knots for fear that I may never see my mother again. I knew she must have still been fighting the demons because my horns were still itching even though we were a pretty good distance from the entrance to the Refuge.

Luckily, fixing up Deborah took my mind off things. She was in really bad shape. Her breathing was very shallow and her leg bone was snapped completely in half. The legging armor had dented inward, keeping us from being able to get it off. We had to send Pom-Pos out to fetch us some blacksmithing tools just so we could bend the heavy metal away from the leg.

After a couple hours of prying, we were able to remove the legging. The skin below Deborah’s knee was almost as black as the armor we laid to the side. Gauss crushed three green orbs, rubbing the contents in his palms like my mother had done for me, and gently caressed the green goo onto the worst looking areas.

The muscles, ligaments, and bones tried their best to move back into place but, according to Gauss, the green alchemical spheres could only heal to a certain extent. No, Deborah would have to let time do the rest.

The waiting after that felt like an eternity. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t out there with my mother fighting by her side, but then again, did I really want to be? I was scared. Very scared. It felt as though any minute now demons would be scratching at the cellar door, waiting to plunge into the darkness and disembowel us.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And what had those golden swords been about? How had my mother done that? Why was she the one that got to have such a brilliant golden power and I was stuck with horns, a pencil-thin arm made of black rough skin and two dagger-like fingers? Was she just more acceptable in the eyes of the Almighty? Had I not prayed hard enough? Had I subconsciously pissed off the creator of this universe? Something just wasn’t making sense.

More than a few times I wanted to cry down there in the cellar. It was dark and depressing and reminded me of the cell when Gauss had stuck me with a white-hot brand. I would never forget the pain that that had brought me. And here I was, stuck once again in a dark room with that same man. And, of course, he didn’t like to speak which made it all that much worse.

After what seemed liked hours, maybe even a day, there was loud banging going on upstairs making Gauss and I both jump to our feet. Deborah was still unconscious at this point and we were unsure when she would wake. She needed to see a doctor and soon.

After a few seconds, we heard the bolts to the cellar open and Gauss and I had to shield our eyes from the light that shone through. A shadowed figure appeared and started to walk down the stairs in a very tired stupor.

“Mother?” I asked, my voice sounding weird after hours of no talking.

“I’m here, son,” she said, her voice as tired as her walk.

“Please, Ruth, tell me,” said Gauss. “How does Refuge fare?”

There was a pause. “Not good, commander Gauss. Not good at all.”

“What happened to your men?” I asked her.

“Half of them perished at the hands of the darkness.” More silence. “They will be remembered.”

Mother was placed in a make-shift bed by Pom-Pos much like the one Deborah was in. She was fed milk, honey, and some bread with butter. I tried my best to let her rest for the longest time before I finally burst open from the questions that had been in my head for the past year.

“Why do I have horns, mother?”

Mother let out a big breath of air.

“The boy deserves to know, Leader Ruth. He has been as patient as any man his age can be.”

“Very well,” mother said. “If you were I, commander Gauss, where would you begin?”

“From the beginning, I presume.”

“Such a difficult story,” she said, “For one to hear and for me to tell. But, you are right, commander Gauss. It must be done.”

I saw mother’s head move in the shadows towards me. I felt her hand brush and move my hair once again behind my horns. Then, she let her fingers caress the hard outer shell of it. They were sensitive now, more sensitive than usual and I could tell exactly where her fingers were.

“Ira. My son. Light of my world. I was never going to have children. I never even have taken a husband. I gave my life fully and ultimately to the Almighty. I was and have always been a warrior for the Refuge. Then, after a day’s training with my squadron and an evening at the church, I returned home and…”

Mother sniffled and I wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to continue. Gauss, for the first time since I met him, did something kind. He rested his hand on my mother’s shoulder.

“That is where I found your father. Waiting for me.”