All that filled the air was the resonant echo of the griffon's talons striking the earth, intermittently treading upon scattered patches of grass. I pondered whether the griffon—Rin, if memory serves from Baomu's mention—harbored any sense of loss over her demise. Or was it simply the conclusion of their contract, allowing it to continue its existence unimpeded by today's tragic turn of events? Gradually, a deeper sense of my perceived frailty began to settle in. She had perished due to my error, yet here I remained, ensnared on the back of this griffon, powerless and immobile until it deemed me out of harm's way.

Yanking me out of the ever-deepening abyss of despair, Rin came to an abrupt halt. My head was wedged between her nape and back, so while I couldn't see precisely what she was doing, it felt like the griffon was simply swiveling her head from side to side, her mane occasionally brushing through my peripheral vision. With a low growl, the magical restraints vanished, and my freedom of movement returned. Rin glanced back at me before taking off. It was only then that the reality of the situation truly hit me.

I was alone.

Not in a social sense, like I was back in Heim, but in a much more literal -and depressing- way. I felt the tears both form, and threaten to fall but I held them back, choosing to wipe them away with my dirty and ripped tee. These clothes were all I had left. My stomach began rumbling, reminding me that I had yet to eat anything. Where should I go? What do I do? Can I survive out here alone?

These questions tormented my thoughts, though only the final inquiry had a definitive answer. Dread clutched my insides like a frigid talon as the harsh reality sank in. The echoes of demonic beasts' howls tore through the air, intensifying the paralyzing fear that held me captive. As I remained motionless, the howls grew louder, their sheer intensity causing visible vibrations in the surroundings. Initially, I noticed the patches of grass swaying slightly and some rocks shifting positions. Then, as if a dark tide, patches of black crept into my vision. "No, I can't—" was my last coherent thought before unconsciousness claimed me.

Where had it all gone wrong? What did I do that made Zhou and the other kids hate me so much?

Suddenly, I found myself transported back to the village, specifically inside the first memory that had deeply imprinted on me. It was a moment with Baomu, where she imparted her vision of how I should live. She was dressed in her customary attire, though notably less soiled. Her loose-fitting teal shirt was tied at the midsection with a black belt, adorned with a whitish-gray buckle. I recalled that the shirt appeared softer than it actually felt. Her pants, a similar loose fit, were blue but marred by mud stains and ingrained streaks resistant to washing. Her glasses sat impeccably on her face, hardly shifting unless her head tilted significantly. Her long black hair was neatly gathered in a ponytail that reached just beyond her shoulder, often seeming to interfere with her tasks.

However, what always struck me were her eyes—brilliant lavender orbs that gleamed with a peculiar intensity. Yet, there was always an indefinable quality, an emotion that lingered behind those eyes when they settled on me. The first time she looked at me after my return from a day in the village or her prolonged absence, there was a complexity in her gaze that unsettled me. It surpassed any discomfort I felt from the taunts or gossip of the other children, except for when they spoke ill of her.

Her nose was small and thin, which starkly contrasted her full lips. I'd say she was beautiful by any standard, and definitely out of place in Heim.

Returning my focus to her lecture, Baomu had just struck my hand with a stick for staring too long without responding. "You know this, Ashoc. What do you do if you see someone struggling and it's nearly impossible for them to solve it alone?" Her tone betrayed a hint of irritation at my failure to answer what she considered a simple question. "Ignore it? That's what all the other demons do anyway, so why—" She interrupted me with another swift strike to the back of my hand, this time leaving a slight welt. I winced in pain, tears welling at the corners of my eyes from the unexpected blow.

"No, little one," she began, her lips curving into that radiant smile of hers as she gently caressed my face, wiping away the tears. "The correct answer is you help them. Life is a collective effort, little one. When someone is struggling, we should always extend a helping hand if possible. No one should be left to suffer alone in their personal hell, without anyone offering assistance." She finished, tousling my already disheveled pink hair. A wry smile crept onto my face. "Swear," I said simply, pointing to the bucket she often used to discipline me whenever I cursed in her presence. Her cheeks tinged slightly pink before she lightly tapped the back of my head. "The bucket is for children," she huffed, turning away.

Throughout the entire encounter, I found myself questioning Baomu's teachings. "Why don't other demons believe this? Shouldn't demons be rude and sly? That's how the other kids, and even the teens, are! They're so cool! I want to be just like them," I silently mused, cursing the lessons Baomu had imparted to me. Disregarding the remainder of her teachings, I only provided answers that I believed she wanted to hear, ironically aligning with beliefs contrary to my own at the time.

After the session concluded, I hurried into the village to see what Zhou was up to. To my surprise, I found him and the other kids tormenting a disabled demon who had fallen in the street, allegedly staining Zhou's new white pants that his father had stolen from humans. Zhou relentlessly kicked the fallen demon, seemingly refusing to use his hands, while the others struck him however and whenever they pleased. Zhou's rapid succession of kicks to the stomach, chin, and temple elicited impressed sounds from the onlookers.

"That was so cool, Zhou! I didn't even see your legs move, but I saw him recoil after each hit," exclaimed one of the children. I couldn't tell if they were being serious or not.

"It's nothing, really. I should've done more to this useless garbage who ruined my father's gift to me, but I'm feeling quite merciful," he boasted, his nose and chin lifting ever so slightly. Without warning, I sprinted forward and delivered a kick to the already grounded demon, sending him sprawling. Everyone gazed at me, perplexed, until I spoke up. "Sorry, it seemed like he was about to hit you, so... I rushed over," I explained, my breath slightly unsteady, a result of the adrenaline coursing through me.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"I had it handled, but not bad, new kid. I heard you were staying with the kind demon, so I thought you'd be a letdown. I'm Zhou," he declared confidently, flashing a cocky grin. Despite my dislike for his insinuation about Baomu, I held back my retort, hoping to be accepted into the 'in-crowd,' so to speak. "I'm Ashoc."

For several months, I immersed myself in their activities, which often mirrored our encounter with the disabled demon. Balancing between evading Baomu's watchful gaze and joining them was challenging, but I managed. Though she didn't seem to notice, her lessons grew more intense around the same time. We would pilfer from street vendors, instigate fights with other children, and harass those who didn't conform to what Zhou termed the 'demonic standard.' Whenever situations turned precarious, we relied on Zhou's status as the chief's son to extricate ourselves, and it proved remarkably effective.

Throughout it all, a nagging voice within me slowly gained influence. Distinct from the voice that urged me to adopt this behavior and disregard Baomu, it was equally persistent. 'You shouldn't be doing this! How would Baomu feel if she saw you right now? What's so admirable about acting like this anyway?' It incessantly pestered me until, one day, it finally broke through.

"Shut up!" I shouted fiercely, landing a punch squarely on the kid's jaw. "Wicked punch, Ashoc. You're shaping up to be quite the demon, I must say. Far superior to this trash," he growled, delivering a kick to the poor demon's other jaw. Taking a moment to truly observe the fallen demon, I realized how pitiful he appeared. In essence, he wasn't much different from us. All he sought was to evade us and live his life. Yet, how did we repay him? By beating him mercilessly and subjecting him to ridicule. How many others had I treated similarly without even realizing it? Perhaps I deserved everything Zhou would do to me afterward, but Baomu certainly didn't.

Instinctively, I reached out to help him up, but Zhou forcefully redirected my hand. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, his anger as palpable as the blood on the victim's face. Judging by his reaction and the glint in his eye, it was already too late to pretend I had other intentions. "Helping him up. We've inflicted enough harm on him, Zhou. Let's put an end to this," I stated as calmly as possible, masking the hint of anxiety creeping in.

"Are you turning against me, Ashoc?" he barked.

"No, I'm helping him survive. Any more of this, and we might have killed him. C'mon, let's get you out of here," I said quietly, attempting to emulate Baomu's gentle smile so as not to instill more fear in the victim than he likely already felt. Upon closer inspection, it was evident we had caused significant damage. His body was covered in bruises, his lip was split and bleeding, and one eye was so swollen I doubted he could see out of it. As I approached, he flinched, but eventually allowed me to lift him from the ground, leaning on me for support. "I should've known you'd end up like this eventually," Zhou muttered before disappearing down an alleyway.

Despite his words exacerbating my anxiousness, I set them aside for the moment. "What's your name?" I inquired simply, hoping to initiate a conversation during our slow trek to his dwelling. However, my question was met with silence, not even a muscle twitch indicating he had heard me.

"Listen, I don't even know if you can hear me, but I'm sorry. Regardless of anything that happened before, you didn't deserve what Zhou and I did to you. Deep down, I think I knew the things we did were wrong, but I was so desperate to be accepted, you know? I craved acceptance so much that I was willing to do anything to continue hanging out with Zhou and the others. But today, I realized a line was crossed. You may never forgive me, and I won't ask you to, but I'm sorry," I expressed, letting my thoughts flow out, my voice as passive as I could manage.

Turning my head, I noticed the other demon staring at me. His one good eye burned with a mix of anger, sadness, and humiliation. In my peripheral vision, I caught a slight twitch from his mouth and realized he was speaking, albeit quietly. "You don't sound very demon-like, so you're just as 'bad' as I am in Zhou's standards," he whispered, mustering as much anger as his current state allowed. His words caused a sharp pang of guilt in my chest, but I chose to ignore it, feeling that I deserved the discomfort. "My name is Fahui. If you're truly sorry, you need to remember the names of those you hurt," he concluded, his breath ragged.

"Yeah..." I trailed off, continuing the slow pace of our walk.

From that day forward, I became Zhou's primary target. It was evident from the smirks on the faces of all witnesses; they were pleased. His focus had shifted from them to me, and they relished in my predicament. It was a twisted turn of events, considering I had once assisted Zhou in oppressing them, and now I found myself on the receiving end. Not a single soul extended a helping hand. The only individual who could have been a potential friend, Fahui, was no longer around. His family had departed the day after I helped him, fearing that the next assault would prove fatal. However, their belongings remained in the house, leaving me unsure of the truth behind their departure.

The only solace I found was that they refrained from bothering me when I was near Baomu's and my house. I couldn't comprehend why, but I was grateful nonetheless. Grateful that there was at least one place where I felt safe. "Felt safe. Both that place and Baomu are gone because of me," I reminded myself, a heavy burden weighing on my heart.

A frigid and indifferent tone jolted me awake, reminiscent of the way Baomu used to startle me into alertness with a bucket of water. As I opened my eyes, I was met with the imposing presence of a tall, warrior-like middle-aged man standing over me. His eyes, a fierce storm of crimson red, seemed to pierce through me, as if unraveling all my deepest secrets. His short, silvery-gray hair barely reached his ears, marred with streaks of red, evidence of battles past. Scars crisscrossed his face and bare-skinned body, each telling a story of survival in the harsh demonic zone. His nose was prominent, commanding attention, and a goatee framed his lips and chin, perfectly shaped despite the ruggedness of his appearance. His blackened, form-fitting battle attire revealed well-defined abs, stained with the blood of his recent conquests.

As my gaze wandered, I noticed scattered body parts of demonic beasts strewn around me, a macabre scene of carnage. Blood adorned my own clothes and body, though its presence had gone unnoticed until this moment. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of battle, assaulting my senses and grounding me in the grim reality of my surroundings.

My face must've portrayed how I felt because the man let out a soft stifled laugh. "Relax child. I mean you no harm, I saved you from those beasts." He explained, gesturing to the corpses he left. He turned his head in several directions before he leveled his gaze on me once more. "Are you alone kid?" He asked, keeping his emotions hidden away, causing his question to sound more threatening than he likely intended. "Yeah..." I answered quietly, thinking back to Baomu. His eyes hardened before he spoke again.

"Want to come with me?"