“Devils are lesser than man,” I read from one of the only books in our house. It was a large, leatherbound book describing the tenets of this world’s religion, the Pantheon. “Absolute bullshit.” I tossed it aside. “Agias is the source of this garbage, huh? A whole country run by religious zealots. So stupid. That’s why Zalevet is better,” I realized, puffing up my country. “Money rules the world. That makes more sense to me.”
When I could, I spent my time learning. Since there weren’t any worthwhile books at home, I had to ask lots of questions or snoop on people when out in public.
I currently lived on the Human Continent, which was comprised of four countries: Zalevet in the south, Brosnock in the center, Agias in the north, and Viorna, the jagged peninsula to the east.
Probably not surprisingly, given how I arrived in these lands, I was in Zalevet on the southwestern coast in a little town called Sandy Branch.
Zalevet was a single kingdom built around a market-driven monarchy with an advisory council of ranked nobles. It had massive ports, a good geographical location, and the strongest connections with other continents. Brosnock, Agias, and Viorna routed all their products and trade through Zalevet to the rest of the world and vice versa.
It was a land ruled by humans…which I was not.
“Did you throw that book again?” shouted Amalia from downstairs. I was in my space, a lofted area above the living room. It had a bed, furniture, and places to store clothes—basically, it was my room.
“It annoys me,” I complained, my squeaky, three-year-old voice spread downstairs.
“Then stop reading it!”
“Why do you even have it?”
“You never pass up a free book,” replied Amalia sternly. “They have machines to make them in the cities, but the nearest one is Port Prosper. That’s days away. The market for them out here isn’t as high, so they’re expensive.”
Yeah. No school, no books, no education. I thought. If people didn’t have codexes, I bet everyone would be illiterate.
Annoyed, I sat up, picked up the shitty book, placed it nicely on my desk because I felt guilty, and went downstairs. “Can we go to the market?” I asked. “I’m bored.”
Amalia stared at me. Her eyes went directly to my ears. “Fix your hair first.”
“Oh?” I quickly bolted back upstairs until I was in front of a mirror. My ears were sticking out from my hair—pointed and long. They were only getting longer and harder to hide with age. I quickly messed with my hair, brushed it, then tied it into a low ponytail. Then, I headed back downstairs. “All done!”
“Let me look.” Amalia examined me all over. She even tugged at my hair. “Okay. We can go.”
I was basically bouncing in place as Amalia opened the door for us to leave. I zoomed outside, childish energy surging through me as the fresh, warm air surrounded me. A breeze cast over me, fluffing my clothes and hair. I couldn’t hide my smile. Being outside was the best.
Every year, right at the end of the harvest season, all the local farmers and merchants that came in to buy crops put up a small market in town. There were stalls with all different kinds of goods and food I couldn’t find any other time of year.
It was also when the local inn, Beginner’s Rest, experienced its largest influx of adventurers staying in town, eager to tackle the Forest of Beginners a few hours away. Adventuring and farming were Sandy Branch’s primary sources of income, making it busier than ever during this season.
Dozens of people filled the central part of town, where the inn and shops were located. The once vacant, dusty streets, barely populated with slow-moving locals, were now brimming with locals, visitors, merchants, and adventurers.
Amalia held my hand as we carefully moved through the stalls. Quintin wasn’t in town at the moment. He had been picked up by a group of adventurers to serve as a guide through the Forest of Beginners. That was how he kept us clothed and fed. Quintin was a former knight in his past life before settling down with Amalia. Apparently, it was love at first sight.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
I kind of wish he was here, too. I thought as we looked through the stalls. A halved and curled piece of corn on a stick, loaded with spices, sat in my free hand with large chunks already taken out of it.
A group of adventurers crowded outside Beginner’s Rest. The owner, Tannin, and her husband Bruno had set up outdoor seating and served drinks to those who wanted them.
The reason they caught my attention was because, out of the six of them, two were devils.
One was a tall man with long blonde hair. Like me, he had pointed ears. He was a devil—specifically a forest devil—yet he smiled and chatted with the rest of his party.
Why do I have to hide my ears? I found myself wondering. Are they really that bad?
The other devil was a female with gray rabbit ears sprouting from her head and a small ball-like tail from her backside. She wore very…light clothing and appeared to be the drunkest among the group.
That’s a beast devil. I recalled. She looks happy.
I played with my ears beneath my hair.
Amalia spotted this and immediately stopped me. “Don’t do that.”
“But they don’t have to hide anything,” I said, gesturing at the two adventurers.
“They’re strong, and they don’t live here. They’re also adults. People are afraid of them. You are a small child who can’t use mana,” argued Amalia forcefully, tightening her grip. “Keep your ears hidden.”
Honestly, I didn’t believe her. The only devils I’d seen treated poorly were the ones with the Mark of Enslavement on their bellies. But they were slaves. If there were just devil slaves, that’d be one thing, but there were human slaves, too.
Maybe I just don’t know enough yet. I decided, opting to listen to Amalia. The last thing I want is to ruin my peace.
“Okay,” I said. “Sorry.”
Satisfied, Amalia softened her grip on my hands. “You want to buy some colorful ribbons for your hair?”
My eyes sparkled. “Yeah!”
We continued walking through the market until we reached the section where jewelry and clothing were sold. I stood a little way behind Amalia as she bought me a pretty, bright red ribbon to tie my hair.
Then, something hit me.
I fell to the ground hard, my face mushing into the dirt and my back grinding against little rocks. “Oww,” I moaned, rubbing my head before sitting up. “Why?!” I complained to whoever, or whatever, hit me.
“Oh, sorry, kid, I—” It was a merchant. He reached down to help me up, but something caught his eye. His sorry gaze turned to one of disgust. He spit on me. “Watch where you’re going, freak.”
I stared after him, stunned, as he stepped over me like a piece of trash and carried on his way down the road.
The voices of bystanders passed through my ears.
“Isn’t that Quintin and Amalia’s kid?”
“What happened to her ears?”
“It’s a devil?”
“Gross. How could they have one of those…things in their home?”
“Is it their pet?”
“It must be a slave.”
“My kids wanted to play with that thing. Better tell my wife so she keeps ‘em away.”
I knew what had happened as my hands launched to the side of my head. I could already feel cool air against the tips of my ears. My fingers touching them without the presence of hair confirmed it all.
Everyone could see my ears.
The locals were starting to chatter amongst themselves. Word spread like a wildfire in only a few seconds.
Amalia reached down to grab me and pull me up. “Let’s go home.”
“I’m sorry,” I squeaked.
Amalia didn’t say anything. She pulled me along through the streets. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.
Then, out of nowhere, something struck me on the side of my head. Food. Some type of pie.
I stared forward, stunned.
Amalia immediately stopped and turned to me, kneeling. She wiped what she could away before turning to the crowd. “Who threw that?!”
I gazed into the crowd, too. Unlike before, I couldn’t spot a single kind eye in the crowd. Some were filled with disgust, but most were indifferent, like I didn’t even exist. Like I was beneath them.
When my gaze landed on the two devils by Beginner’s Rest, our eyes met. They stared at me with immense pity before averting their gazes, ashamed.
Amalia picked me up in her arms and walked me back to our home.
?
Quintin came home later that night. By the time he got to the house, the news about what had happened had already reached him. “Are you okay?” He asked me as soon as he saw me at home. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I muttered. “Someone knocked me down, and another person threw a pie at me. Tasted terrible, though.”
Amalia was sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine, half-drunk beside her. She spent hours crying and apologizing to me after we got home. Then she passed out. When she came to, she cooked dinner, ate with me, hugged me, and then started drinking.
Quintin rubbed my head. He glanced at Amalia. “We were never going to be able to hide it forever.”
“I just want her to live a normal life,” said Amalia in a weak, broken voice laced with sorrow.
“And she will.”
Everything changed.
I finally knew what it meant to be a devil.
The ones at the inn weren’t treated like I was. It wasn’t because people respected them but because they feared them.
I needed that fear, too, if I wanted a normal life. I had Quintin and Amalia, but what would happen if they weren’t around? Could I survive on my own? Will I do good in the future? I wasn’t sure.
Suddenly, a goal for my future finally entered my head.