A shadowy figure made its way through the forest; he knew the path well, but stumbled here and there, losing his footing and catching himself just before toppling over. The rain made it hard to see, and his pack was laden with the boons of his travels. He wore a long cloak, hood up; the pack on his back dug into the fabric and caused it to bunch up. He crossed a babbling stream, made his way up rocky slopes, and eventually arrived at the entrance to his village.

A scout greeted him from behind the walls, opening the gates to let him pass. As he made his way through the village, several old friends greeted him: all asking about his travels. He muttered his apologies to each of them in turn, insisting he must see the king and his wife. He arrived on their doorstep soaking wet, the rain pounding on his back and the wind howling around him as he knocked on their door.

He startled when a small boy opened the door, but soothed himself enough to ask for his parents. As he came in out of the rain, he let his pack drop to the floor with a wet thud, his shoulders glad to be free of the burden. “Anfer?” Pan called inquisitively, following behind his young son as he led him to where the drenched faun stood. “You’re back! It’s been so long!” His face lit up once he confirmed for himself who had arrived. “You’re soaking wet, come dry off by the fire,” Pan ushered him from the entryway to a small room, tutting a little. “I’ll go get you some dry clothes.”

Before Anfer could protest, Pan was gone, and his son was staring up at him silently. “Hello Raku,” he sighed wearily, “you’ve grown since I left.” The boy squinted and scrunched up his face before running upstairs. “What’d I say?” Anfer muttered to himself as the boy disappeared.

Pan came down shortly after, with an abundance of clothes. “Chrys will be here soon,” he said, “she wanted to check the perimeter today.” Anfer waited calmly for the right moment to stop Pan’s prattling. “Why are you just standing there? Take off that wet cloak and go get changed,” Pan huffed.

“About that,” Anfer said, slowly undoing the straps that kept the cloak in place.

“Hm?” Pan hummed, slightly distracted as he thumbed through the clothes.

Anfer’s cloak dropped to the floor, weighed down by the rain, revealing a small bundle in his arms. He smiled softly down at it, before he looked up at Pan and said, “This is my daughter.”

Pan stood stunned for a moment, before he hurriedly dropped the clothes on a chair and rushed over to see the baby. He gasped audibly as Anfer pulled back the blanket to reveal her face. “Oh, Anfer, she’s–” he hesitated, startled by her third eye. “What is she?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I met some fauns down south–way down south;they had so many different herbs and medicinal techniques! I stayed with them for a while and…well. I stayed with them for a long while.” His eyes threatened to overflow with tears. “When Wriva was born…her mom…she didn’t make it. I wanted to bring her home,” he choked out, tears spilling over the edge, making trails down his face. Pan wordlessly put his arm around him.

“She looks different.”

“They all did,” he whispered. “She looks like her mom.”

They were interrupted by the front door slamming open, wind howling loudly outside. “It’s raining,” Chrys huffed, “really hard.” She paused when she saw they had company. “…Anfer?” He chuckled and gave her a light smile, still drenched himself. “What’s going on?”

Anfer wordlessly showed her his child, which, unbeknownst to him, hurt Chrys to her core. It hadn’t been very long since she too had come back with news of a child. “Been busy I see?” She laughed breathlessly.

“Mhm,” he mumbled. Pan tutted at the two of them, instructing them to get changed; he would watch the baby for Anfer–which wasn’t an excuse to hold the baby at all. He cooed at her, chuckling as she grabbed onto his finger with her pudgy hand. Anfer returned before Chrys, finally dry, and held his hands out for Wriva. Pan debated not giving her back.

“Hmmm,” Anfer hummed, collapsing on the couch with his daughter held tightly, but tenderly, in his arms.

“Hm?” Pan chirped back as he watched his friend relish the comforts of home. He had been gone far too long.

“Do you think...” he stopped and looked tenderly down at her before continuing. “Will they accept her?” Fresh tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes. “I worry for her,” he whispered, stroking her cheek softly.

Pan looked down at the floor; no, no they wouldn’t, at least not initially, but he couldn’t tell him that. He didn’t want to. As he prepared to assure the worried father before him, Chrys made an appearance–descending from the stairs and into the lounge area with all of the grace of a feral cat. “No, Anfer, they won’t.”

“Chrys,” Pan grimaced, “that’s not…”

She cut him off, “It’s true. You know it. I know it. I know it better than most.” She sat down across from Anfer, and swiftly changed into her humanoid shifter form. Anfer flinched reflexively. “See?” She scoffed.

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

Chrys waved away his concerns with her hand, “No, I knew you would do that.” She crossed her legs and leaned back against her chair. “They won’t accept her right away, Anfer. But, with any luck, they’ll learn to love her.”

“Like they love you,” Pan said with a smile, tinged with a sadness that Anfer couldn’t place. They had changed a lot since he left.

“What did you find out there,” she asked, changing the subject, “besides a partner?”

Anfer chuckled, and leaned back himself to tell them his tale. The rain droned on through the night as the old friends talked around the fire, the baby sound asleep through it all.