Elara began to speak but halted in her steps, glancing toward her companions.

"Go on ahead. I'll take Anthony to get that rusty sword of his sharpened and oiled while we talk."

Belle stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Elara, planting a gentle kiss on the young girl's cheek before stepping away to stand beside Edgar and Garren. Edgar nodded toward Elara and Anthony, waving a hand through the air as he spoke.

"You two will need to take care of yourselves for the next day or two. We still have a mission to finish now that Anthony's matter is settled. Elara, you should use this opportunity to do some training with Anthony—get acquainted with each other and lay some foundations for teamwork. As for you, Anthony, follow Elara's instructions. She is your best asset right now, and has been preparing for this most of her life."

The two youngest members of The Iron Fang nodded swiftly at Edgar's instructions before waving goodbye and heading off toward the blacksmith's shop.

Elara remained silent as they made their way to the small, open-walled smith shop. She handed the man inside a bronze coin for access to his grinding stone and an oiled rag. Passing the rag to Anthony, she finally spoke.

"Do you know how to properly care for that blade?"

Anthony nodded as he accepted the rag and sat down in front of the grinder. He got the stone spinning with the pedal on the floor and carefully began to create a fresh edge on his sword by running it along the spinning stone.

As Anthony focused on his task, Elara took a seat behind him, where he couldn't see the moisture building in her eyes when she finally began to speak about her past.

"My mother's name was Fenna. She was a skilled healer whose unique ability to cure stubborn illnesses allowed her to create a thriving business in Tree Castle, and make a name for herself among the neighboring peoples. She was a beautiful, kind, and strong elven woman."

Elara took a deep breath and wiped the back of her arm across her eyes before continuing.

"When the three-year war between the Elven city of Tree Castle and the wandering demon tribes was coming to an end, part of the negotiated peace required the elves to send healers into the demons' camp to try and save the great general's life. His sudden illness was a major reason the demon tribes had lost the will to continue the war. My mother was chosen as one of those healers, and, in order to help stop the awful bloodshed, she accepted the task."

A sudden anger replaced the sadness in Elara’s eyes as she reached this part of the story. Her nostrils flared slightly, and her brow furrowed deeply over her bright yellow eyes.

"My mother did her job well, healing the illness that others could not. But when the general regained his strength, instead of giving her the gratitude she deserved, he kidnapped her and kept her imprisoned in the demon camp for over a month. Only when the elves were on the verge of restarting the war over the issue did the despicable demon release my mother. By that time, she was already pregnant."

The anger slowly faded, giving way to tears. Elara stopped speaking for several minutes, the two sitting in silence broken only by the sound of metal against stone as Anthony continued to sharpen his sword. Finally, Elara settled her emotions and continued.

"Demon physiology is much different from that of the elves. Someone like me being born is nearly impossible. Nana thinks my mother’s innate magical gifts caused me to survive when I should have died at conception. This turned out to be a curse, as I grew too quickly inside her. Even with all the help of the healing community of Tree Castle, my mother still lost her life during childbirth."

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

Elara remained silent after speaking those final words, until Anthony finished sharpening his blade. She followed him over to the bench where he began applying the oil. Anthony glanced at her puffy red eyes before swiftly turning his gaze back to his sword.

"So you were born as a half-demon in a city that had just been at war with demons. That must have been hard."

Elara nodded, a bitter expression spreading across her face.

"Nana is probably the only reason I’m still alive. It was her strength that kept those cowards from taking out their anger on a child, but they still made sure to remind me I was an unwelcome monster every chance they got. That’s the main reason Nana took me away from that place, moving us to Highwarden where she joined up with Edgar's Iron Fangs."

Anthony wiped the last stubborn spots of rust with oil before holding the sword up to the light. The blade now had a sharp edge and finally looked like a reliable weapon, no longer resembling a crude tool that was about to crumble into a pile of rusty metal shavings at any second.

Anthony carefully slid the blade into its sheath, then looked up at Elara, noticing the insecurity on her face after being forced to resurface all the old wounds of her painful past. Glancing back over toward her, Anthony tried to put on a reassuring smile.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me, Elara. I’m sorry about your mother. I think you already know my own mother died when I was a child. I guess we’re similar in that way. For what it’s worth, when I first saw you, none of the words that came to my mind were even remotely close to 'monster.' I’m grateful to be part of your team."

A bright smile began to spread across Elara’s face, replacing the anxious expression that preceded it, her eyes narrowing slightly as she placed one finger against her chin.

"That’s right! I think the word you used was… 'pretty'?"

Anthony sat up straight and knocked his fist against his chest a few times, clearing his throat as his cheeks turned slightly red.

"Ahem. So. What do you say we get started with that training? I’m eager to see what my team leader is capable of."

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At the front entrance of The Jolly Farmer, Bo and his crew were making a scene, complaining loudly as two town guards escorted them out of the tavern. Bo shouted a string of curses at the barkeep on his way out, spittle dripping down his chin.

"You ungrateful old bastard! I’ve spent enough coin in this place to buy a horse!"

The barkeep shook his head bitterly as he poured a beer for a paying customer.

"Come back when you can pay, Bo. I don’t want to see your ugly face again until then."

Bo and his two underlings shuffled into a nearby alley, sitting down among the filth and mud as they tried to think of a way to make some quick coin. Bo cradled his still aching hand as his expression began shifting from self-pity to anger.

"It’s that bastard Anthony’s fault. If he didn’t bite off the finger on my good hand, I could at least do some hard labor for a few coins. Now even that’s impossible. I swear, I’m going to find a way to make that bastard pay for what he did to me!"

As Bo ranted, a relatively short man wearing a ragged hood stepped into the alley, moving directly toward the trio. The three seated men stared up at the newcomer with uncertainty, remaining silent as they waited for him to speak.

"I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re in need of some coins and that you’ve got a score to settle with Anthony. How would you three fine men like to kill two birds with one stone? Emphasis on the word kill."

As the hooded stranger slowly revealed his face, the eyes of the three seated men went wide as the shock on Bo’s face soon morphed into a devilish grin as he stared up at the familiar man standing before him.

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Unbeknownst to the four men conspiring in the alley, a young woman in the nearby apothecary had overheard their conversation. Pressing her slender frame against the wall just beside the opened window, Pom clasped her tiny hands over her mouth, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. She remained perfectly still, straining to catch every word of the sinister plot unfolding just outside her shop.