Six months of freedom would seem short when compared to all the sufferings and trauma Narati endured. He was glad to know that time passed, and he was not afraid.

But then he saw the reanimated corpses. He knew he would see something horrible every now and then but when he saw the shambling, rotting corpses attacking them, it…unnerved him. He never thought how badly affected he was when he woke up from a nightmare. Not only that, but he also felt sick and would’ve thrown up if it wasn’t for him keeping it in himself.

When he got out of his bed, he wanted to drink something. Anything, to stave off the sickness. Good thing Raine rented another bungalow so that they could get their well-needed privacy, which Narati greatly needed as he walked out his room and towards the kitchen, trying to get something to drink.

He suddenly forgot about his sickness when he was surprised by a figure sitting by the dining table. He let out a rather audible squeak but didn’t run. He knew who it was, and he sighed.

“By the Makers,” said Narati after catching his breath. “You’re up early.”

“I have not slept,” replied Aranis, sipping her cup of tea. “We do not need sleep as much as everyone else. Though I do appreciate the bath.”

“That’s…good. I guess.”

Aranis was quick to notice Narati’s appearance. She stood and immediately checked on the Fa’ar. It did not take long for her to realize what ailed the Fa’ar.

“You’re affected by the Aether,” said Aranis. “You should’ve stayed away from the town.”

“I can’t just leave my friends behind, can I? Besides, I walked away when they told me to. Karkas explained the reason on the way here.”

“Even so, a Fa’ar shouldn’t be exposed to Aether, even in lower doses. Here. Let me help. You won’t feel well for a couple of days, but it’s better to purge the Aether in your body than being slowly eaten away.”

Aranis chanted a spell and light came out of her hands. Narati did not feel any better, clearly due to her also using magic to counteract the Aether inside him. Knowing that he couldn’t do anything else, he sighed and slowly walked to the nearby sofa and lay on it, trying his best to stay relaxed despite the uncomfortable feeling.

“I never realized how bad it is until I got the nightmares,” said Narati. “Good thing you’re there to help, though I never expected you to.”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Aranis realized what Narati meant. “I see,” she said. “Then I presume that you were not given the best of treatments out there, then?”

“I’m used to it by now,” said Narati. He soon shook his head and said, “No. I never will. Not after what they did to me. Even after freedom, I can’t escape the fate of a Fa’ar. I suppose that’s why we don’t have a god, or gods. Only the Maker. No wonder my own people end up wanting retribution. In the end, we end up killing ourselves, waiting for the end, because we’re not supposed to exist.”

“Maybe so,” said Aranis. “But you are here, aren’t you? You feel sick, and I’m healing you. You exist and you breathe. To me, that is good enough.”

“I’m surprised,” said Narati. “I thought elves don’t care about Fa’ars. Raine told me that, if you see us, all you want is more than kill us.”

Aranis chuckled. “He is a witty one, isn’t he? Some elves do, but not me. Then again, if I met those elves, I will be treated like an outsider, or seen as an eccentric.”

“Yeah, well…you are the first elf with brown skin and cat eyes that I know of.”

“I am a dark elf, after all. The eyes, however, are because of the other half of me. I am also a wood elf by blood.”

“So, you’re a half-blood?”

“Correct. Against all known rules of our tribes, my father and my mother joined, away from the scrutiny of everything they ever knew of. That, unfortunately, makes them an outcast. However, it is a story from centuries ago. As time went by, and as I grew older and wiser, that scrutiny is all but gone. Humans and elves, a taboo once punishable by death, is now a relationship born out of love. And desperation. The term ‘pureblood’ is only reserved to those who wish to preserve what’s left of a society lost by greed. Perhaps that is what makes them scared of you.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“The have the rights to. I learned that Fa’ars were the youngest race in the world. We were created to become tools of war, and when our Makers were defeated, we were left for our own. Those who won…saw us as nothing more than second-rate. We are not even considered beast races.”

“That grudge has mellowed after a thousand years. Unfortunately, traditions outlived hatred and fear.”

Narati scoffed. “Those sabangse made hating us a tradition. Now, that I can believe. Does the wood elves think of us as the devils, too?”

“Never,” said Aranis with a sharp tone. “Not me. Not my siblings. Not all the children of the forest. If we can forgive our own demons, then we have no reason to hate a forest child.”

“Me? Forest child?”

“You, and everyone descended or created from a forest animal is considered a forest child. Hatred against you for the sins of your father is considered petty without a good reason to. You are treated just like we treated everyone in this world. Unless you wronged us, we will not distress you.”

Narati chuckled dryly. “Good to know we’re not considered pests by everyone. I count myself lucky to have met my friends. It’s not…something I say lightly. Fa’ars can’t even stick together for the sake of it. I paid for that mistake with my back…and more.”

Aranis noticed the grimace on Narati’s rodent face. She quickly deduced that the Fa’ar suffered an experience that broke him. With her experience, she could easily tell what. If her deductions were not convincing enough, the leather collar the Fa’ar wore could be an indication of his broken mind.

“How long were you enslaved?” asked Aranis. “I am asking out of curiosity.”

“Seven years, give or take. I’m not sure. I remembered I was ten years old. The one who sold me told everyone I’m seventeen. To me, it feels like eternity. All I ever know is pain and humiliation. Degrading…ones. I couldn’t fight back. I couldn’t insult them with something always in my mouth. All I ever know…are the sharp pain on my back…and on the base of my tail. What made it worse is…despite the pain…I liked it. It felt good…and painful. Those mixed feelings, then the way they justified their treatment of me...it made my mind accept that I was...nothing."

Aranis couldn’t believe what she had just heard. All she could do was caress Narati as the glow on her hands slowly went away. She didn’t need to ask Narati to elaborate. She heard enough.

“Have you been having nightmares because of it? Because of what they did?”

“For a couple of months, yes. After a while since I was freed, I just…shrugged it off. They can’t hurt me anymore because I know I can hurt them if they try. Too bad that won’t help the Fa’ars. At least I know I have teeth.”

“You moved on from it rather quickly for someone who had been enduring it for seven years.”

“Oh, no, no. Those things were from two years ago. I guess even they don't want people to know they fucked young people. It made them look bad."

“That’s not something to jest about. And mind your language.”

“At least it’s not at the expense of others. It’s all on me. I know it’s not right making fun of my suffering, though looking back, the whole thing does feel like a dark joke.”

“Nevertheless, it is never funny. You may say it’s not towards someone else’s, but one day, when you met someone as unfortunate as you are, you will only see it as a joke, and assumed they will see it your way. Accept that part of your life so you will be able to sympathize and understand.”

“I…never thought of that before. I’m sorry, Aranis.”

The elf smiled. “One day, you will see that you will be loved. Your friends are a good start. Do not think you are not just because you are a Fa’ar, because I readily accept you. Understand, Narati?”

Narati sat up and nodded, feeling better already. He never thought talking about his past would end up becoming a conversation with an elf he barely knew. Somehow, knowing that an elf, even if she was different from the fair-skinned ones and looked more like a cat in human form, considered him no different than anyone else made him even more confident. Maybe even brag about it.

It reminded him of his childhood, before everything went to hell. Aranis did remind him of his mother. His father’s more like Karkas: gruff on the outside, a caring, sympathetic soul on the inside. Raine’s more a brother he never had: always optimistic, kind, and also…an untouchable badass.

They were a family. His family. It was a bond he never thought he had. A human as a brother, a Croc as a father, and now an elf as a mother. No one would ever believe him but them. Narati lost his family a long time ago. He finally got one.

Too bad Jacques had to pay the price.

Which was the reason why Narati would make sure he upheld the promise he made with the Loup. He did not mind telling this to the elf.

“I won’t let my friend down,” assured Narati. “And I won’t let you down, good elf.”

“Good,” said Aranis, tapping the ratfolk’s shoulder. “A question, if I may.”

“Shoot.”

“What’s with the circular saw? It is a formidable weapon, albeit excessive to a fault.”

Narati sighed. Even Aranis questioned his weapon preference. What’s wrong with having a circular saw axe, anyway? It was cool. It was practical. And more importantly, it was not useless.

“Not you, too,” said Narati with an exasperated sigh.