Saul looked up, and a multitude of people spread before him. These were men he ate, laughed, and fought with, gathering up for one last fight, to end his lord's reign of terror. He shouted his words, "Till death do we fight! For our homes, for our children!" And the throng of minutemen shouted with him. They gathered there for peace, for life, for freedom. Almost all of them would pass on that day. Saul couldn't stop his rallying cry, couldn't hold back his outstretched hand; he could only watch as his friends and countrymen marched onto the killing field. He's seen this scene before so many times, he can't unsee it: an army of steel-clad soldiers, in perfect formation; a single man, flying high up, above a normal bow's furthest reach. The man raised his arm, and with a high keening noise, flames fell from the sky.

Saul woke up with a cry, gasping, hand outstretched, his body drenched in sweat. The nightmare started differently each time, but it ended the same way: with those sickly yellow flames. He shivered, clutching his furs absentmindedly, and glanced up, realizing he wasn't alone in his home. A pair of wide violet eyes greeted his, staring at him from a mound of furs, as if hiding themselves.

He sighed, rolling out of bed, and stretched. The taut muscles in his back protested, but it was the last thing on his mind.

Those violet eyes watched him as he walked to the table and picked up the pieces of clothing he adjusted yesterday, setting them next to her on the bed. He pointed at them, and her head peeked out to inspect them.

"You don't understand a word I say, do you?" Saul murmured to an unwitting audience. She glanced up at him, but her focus turned back to the cloak, fingers reaching out to rub the gold trim.

"That's perfectly fine." Saul gave her a smile, and she tensed, shrinking back slightly. Saul winced. Maybe a different tack would work?

He pointed at himself. "Saul." Short and sweet. He could only hope this poor girl understood that much. "Saul." Again, he pointed to himself. Then he pointed at her.

The girl stared, eyebrows furrowed. "Sol?" The fangs gave her a small lisp, a soft rasping on the s. She pointed at him. "Sol!" She pointed at herself. "Uhn-ah." She said it slowly, like she was speaking to a child.

"Anna?"

She nodded, and glanced through the open doorway at the empty pot, then rubbed her belly.

That one was simple enough. "Hungry?" Saul mimed eating, feeling like a fool.

Anna clapped, nodding. "Hungry! Hungry!"

Saul chuckled and headed out to the fire pit, and soon enough a fire merrily crackled under a boiling pot of stew. This was a chance to teach her more simple expressions -just to understand what Saul tried to say- and he seized it. He was pretty sure Anna wouldn't remember most of these- she had a habit of defaulting to demonspeak when she was confused- but it was an important first step, in his eyes. Little by little, she was learning to speak.

There were moments, of course, where he felt stumped. One such occasion was when he taught her the word for soup. She'd nodded, peering into the bubbling pot filled with greens, tubers, and boiled rabbit, then took a water-skin and opened it, pointing inside. "Soup?" She'd asked.

Saul shook his head, hiding his smile with a frown. "Water."

Anna gave Saul a baffled look. "Water? Soup!" She insisted, pointing inside the water-skin again.

Saul simply took a bowl and gestured to Anna to follow him, then filled it from the nearby creek. He pointed at the water, giving Anna an expectant look.

"Water?"

Saul nodded. Anna frowned. "Water not soup?"

Saul gave Anna a so-so gesture. "Soup has water. Soup has food."

"Has? Food?"

This is gonna take a while.

It was in this stilted way that they lived for the next month. Anna was a sponge for information, and Saul didn't want to leave her out of his sight. There were many moments where he caught Anna staring into the fire, or watching him warily as he hunted, hands wringing the hem of her shirt. He had to constantly mend the pants he gave her, since she kept tearing them absentmindedly, tugging them up to wear them properly (he also had to craft a tail-hole for her pants, which stumped him for a bit).

Slowly, though, she warmed up to him, little by little. The spring rains changed to summer winds, and the forest began to breathe a bit. One morning, Saul was preparing some firewood for cutting, and Anna surprised him by volunteering to chop wood for him.

"Anna, have you seen me try? It's a heavy thing."

"Ħadar, let me! You cut and chop for hours."

Hadar? father? Saul laughed, relenting after seeing Anna pout. "Just this once, Anna."

Anna grabbed the handle with a hup! The hatchet thumped to the forest floor before she raised it to her shoulder, as if she'd planned it. She picked up a cut piece, placing it on the stump with one hand with the utmost care, before slamming the hatchet down with both arms. She then grunted in surprise as the hatchet drove all the way through the piece, sticking into the stump. She gave Saul a sheepish look before she pulled the hatchet out, grabbing another piece to cut.

Saul thought there would be more moments like that, where Anna shed her innocent demeanor like sheep's clothing, and he had to mentally reconcile the differences between his charge and a human child. He thought there would be more signs: her horns were growing in; her tail was lengthening; her fangs were on full display when she smiled.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

But she had learned to smile. Saul didn't remember the first time she grinned at him, but he recalled it now, as she cut her fifth piece, putting her weight into it. She turned to him with a smug smirk, the tips of her fangs peeking out.

"Ħadar, let me help next time! You watch like... like... liʡ? How do you say?" She waved her arms up and down as if flying.

"Bird?" Saul opened a pouch on his person and pulled out a long dappled-brown feather. She pointed and nodded, excited.

"Like bird! You watch careful-like, but I know better. Worry less, trust more." She glanced at the feather again. "...also, why have a bird-piece?"

"This feather? I have it for its memory. It becomes more with magic."

"Memory? Magic?" Anna stared at the feather like it would fly away.

"Memory. Ties to something before now." Saul paused. "Magic? Magic makes something more... here." shrug "I'll tell you when you know more words. For now, let me show you." Saul looked inside himself, coaxing mana to his hand, recalling the feeling inside the feather. The feather shivered, and a cool breeze blew through the clearing, startling Anna. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself while Saul laughed, at once feeling the hawk and himself. He wanted -no, needed to fly.

As quickly as it came, the trickle of mana he gave the feather ended, and the breeze quit.

Anna was mystified, pulling her cloak tighter around herself, before she remembered she had another question. "Show? Like give a memory?"

"Yes, or like to give a learn-memory, or lesson."

"Like I give lesson for chopping wood?"

Saul laughed. "Yes, just like that. Hadar needs help learning."

Anna shook her head, giving Saul a sly look. "Ħadar, like man with long tooth. Needs less help learning, more help doing."

"Elder?" Saul seemed more amused than offended. "Tired, angry man with gray hair?"

"Yes! You are like elder!" Anna clapped, delighted. "Elder gives many lessons, but you are a different elder, always doing more than speaking."

Saul rolled his eyes. "well, this Ħadar needs you to wash up, food is on the way."

Anna laughed and hurried off to the nearby creek while Saul prepared some deer soup, chuckling at the comparison. As he was cutting the meat, however, he heard a loud hissing from the creek, and walked over, knife in hand.

"Whatever's the matter, Ann-" He paused. Anna stood on the edge of creek, tail lashing in agitation, as on the far side of the creek, an old fur trapper from the nearby village stared at her in fear, bow strung, arrow ready to fire. Anna was growling deep within her throat, and the hunter's hands were shaking.

The hunter looked at Saul, recognition hitting him like a bucket of ice water. The shaking in his hands intensified. "Saul? What is... are you... tell me this isn't what it looks like." His eyes were wild.

"Johan, don't. If you shoot that arrow, you'll regret it." Saul had the knife in a throwing grip, but down at his side.

Johan had a faraway look, then snapped to reality. The bow stayed up, and shook much less. "You're with them? But you were there. You saw what they did to us!"

"Not all demons are evil, Johan. I need your trust, one more time."

"Saul... you can't be serious."

"Please."

Johan gave Saul a look, before finally releasing tension on the bow, stepping back. "For you? I wont shoot. But after this? We're done. If I ever see you in town..."

"I understand. Do what you have to." Saul's heart was heavy.

Johan paused, searching for words. He looked at Anna, then at Saul. "She's not coming back, Saul."

Saul sighed and glanced at the demon child in front of him, before looking back at Johan. "Damn me, but I know that."

Johan turned, but hesitated. Saul tilted his head. "What did you come here for, Johan?"

"You've been summoned. The viscount requests your presence, and probably your magic..." Johan glanced at Anna, who was still glaring daggers, "Perhaps he's a more forgiving sort than me." Johan left without another word.

Anna took a minute to calm down, nervously watching where Johan disappeared from. Her hands were shaking as she wrung out the bottom of her shirt. "That man... was he a friend?"

"He was, a long time ago. Come, let's get some soup. You need something warm inside your belly. I assume you have questions?" Saul guided her home with a hand on her back, and she seemed to visibly relax, turning to Saul with that same energy he was used to.

"Many. Ħadar, what is a town, or a vie-count, or a summoned?"

Not stopping for anything, huh? Reminds me of someone. As he explained, Saul's thoughts went back to Johan, to days where he didn't wake up in a forest with a curious demonkin. He thought back to his first campaign, rallying against the demons invading his homeland, then of his second, rallying against his viscount.

If Anna noticed, she didn't mention it. Soup always made Saul nostalgic, after all.