I had three cloth bags filled with clothes, money, and residence papers for all four of us, since those were needed to enter the city.

  It was taking her forever to return. I found myself kicking a round stone like a football to pass the time.

  Every couple of seconds, I would glance at Ulah to make sure he was okay. He was fast asleep.

  I asked Marvin, who sat with his arms crossed, “You’re sure the dosage was right?”

  “Well, no. I didn’t use a scale. But seeing that they’re still alive, I’d say it was close enough.”

  Hm...

  Palia, who had been watching me for a while, said, “I’m sure your mom’s okay.”

  Hm?

  “Oh, yeah. I know. I’m just annoyed it’s taking her so long to return.”

  “Oh…” She sounded taken aback. I guess she thought I’d be anxious or scared.

  Ironically, it seemed like she was the one who needed the comfort.

  I told her, “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  She nodded slowly and then quickly changed her expression to a smile. “Of course!”

  Five more minutes passed, and my frustration built. I kicked the rock as hard as I could, sending it onto some guy’s roof.

  There was a loud bang as it hit the galvanized roof.

  Tch.

  I sat near Ulah and took his hand, watching his fingernails. They had a darker shade...

  “Sorry,” I whispered to him.

  But... we’d get him fixed. At least him.

  He was young and impressionable, like all kids. So, because of Caren and basically everyone, he too feared and hated vlandos.

  There was one time when I had been teaching him how to gut fish, since he preferred fishing over farming. According to him, farming was too much work, especially when the silo was so hot.

  Anyway, he had randomly started a conversation with me while opening a small fish’s belly with a knife. “Do you sometimes have dreams that you’re a vlandos? Like, just randomly, you’re really tall, super pretty, and can lift buildings?”

  Then I had gotten excited, thinking maybe I could make him like vlandos instead of fearing them.

  So I had lied, excitedly saying, “Hell yeah. All the time.”

  He had frowned and asked, “Do you think… that means we should die? But I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die.”

  It was confusing, so I obviously had asked him what he meant. And he had anxiously explained, as if he was guilty of something:

  “Well... Dad always talks about how vlandos are evil, and why they’re useless... And my friend told me that a vlandos beat his father up for no reason. A-and his father was angry. And..."

  I had listened to him and understood his feelings. He had been having dreams about being a vlandos because he was afraid of becoming one.

  Afraid that everyone would hate him, including his own family, especially his father. He had been closer to him, far more than Natasha.

  But that was probably because Caren was much softer on him and took him everywhere except market days.

  It didn’t matter to me how nice Caren was to him; I still hated him. Perhaps I hated him more because his love for Ulah could switch on a dime. Not because of actions, morals, ethics, or values, but because of something he had no control over.

  Caren would go from seeing him as his precious star to the devil, someone he would cry for as he sent him to his death.

  I knew why Natasha stayed with him—because of me, not simply because she had a child. But because of those powers of mine, it was better for me to have an incompetent father, one who would probably never find out what I was.

  But I never understood why Natasha had married him of all people. For one, he was dirt poor.

  What part of your brain thinks it’s okay to tie yourself down to someone who makes you live in a house that couldn’t withstand a category-one hurricane?

  ‘Love’ bullshit. If he were at least attractive, I could probably understand. But he wasn’t.

  Even if he were handsome and had money, it wouldn’t be worth dealing with someone as hateful as him.

  And if his views were ever questioned, he’d always get angry.

  I remembered a time when Natasha had been interacting with some guy. I had been there, so I knew it wasn’t anything flirtatious.

  The conversation had been about the best seasons to harvest red cucumbers and how certain farmers inflated them with water, and so on.

  When the interaction had been done, and she came inside, Caren had been angry.

  He didn’t stop accusing her of cheating on him. Heck, he even tried telling her to not talk to other men when he wasn't around. Obviously, she didn’t care.

  I didn’t get his point either. If she had been cheating or flirting with any men, I could have understood the issue. But I was certain that wasn’t the case. Not Natasha. She didn’t care about that stuff.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He tried threatening her with divorce, but again, she didn’t care. And it quickly became clear that his threats had no weight.

  Unlike him, people were constantly showering Natasha with both romantic and sexual interest.

  He stayed, though. At the end of the day, a beautiful woman had taken an interest in him for reasons no one understood, and she never offered a clear explanation beyond the fact that she liked something about him.

  He asked his friends, but none of them could figure it out. Except for one, who suggested, "Maybe she thought you were cool to talk to?"

  There were some bold assholes—some seemed pretty chill, but still, confessing love to a man’s wife, right in front of his face? That was insane. They brought flowers to her, acting like Caren was nothing more than a bug. Insignificant.

  If she said, "I already have a husband," they’d respond, "But you hate him."

  And if she replied, "I have two kids," they’d say, "I’m good with kids."

  Natasha was stunning. Beautiful enough for some to call her:

  A mountain fairy—a type of fairy that lures men and women deep into mountains because of how beautiful they are.

  Or a cloud maiden—spirit-like beings said to be mirages of the most beautiful people in history, returning to land.

  All that beauty, with no makeup. Impossibly beautiful. Unnaturally beautiful. Vlandos-like beauty.

  And yet, she chose to be with a man who was below average in everything—except height. He was 5’10. Some people even thought she was a monster in disguise and that for some reason, she wanted to eat Caren.

  The fact that she had human children disproved that fear. So, people just thought she was very stupid, and Caren promised her great deeds.

  And Caren heard it all. From his friends, brothers, sisters, cousins, and even his parents.

  “What the hell does she see in him?”

  “Does he have a rich father or something? Is she trying to get some of that family’s money?”

  “Maybe she likes her men ugly?”

  “Probably thinks he wouldn’t cheat. Well, uglier men cheat more.”

  “Ha. He definitely has her hostage.”

  I remembered a time when Natasha and I had slept by the sea bay, about a year ago. There, she told me about the first time she met Caren’s parents.

  They hated her because they were convinced she wanted to use Caren. Use him for what? They didn’t know. Maybe for some ritual.

  The sound of a moving carriage interrupted my thoughts, and I stood up, trying to peer through the darkness. The lamp wasn’t bright enough.

  Palia and Marvin turned their attention to it.

  He said, “I think that’s Bahmos. Took them long enough.”

  Palia wasn’t convinced yet. “I hope so.”

  It turned out it was them. A massive, horse-sized green lizard pulled the carriage right up to us. Natasha and four men climbed out.

  I recognized them all.

  Bahmos looked around and said, “Why is the blu-fire so dim? I can barely see anything.”

  Julan replied, “Must be Qura ones.”

  “Doubt it. Qura quality is okay at least, this one’s absolute trash.”

  Natasha jumped off the carriage and said, “Those two are asleep.”

  Bahmos squinted at Caren. “He’s bleeding?” He turned to Natasha with a sly smile. “What the hell did he do to make you so angry?”

  “Just get them into the carriage. Please.”

  Bahmos gestured to Caren. Julan and Merkerthy grunted as they walked toward him.

  “I already got fucking back issues.”

  “Damn, same.”

  I picked up Ulah and handed him to Natasha. “Why did you take so long?”

  “He had to prepare some stuff.”

  “I see...”

  “What did you think?”

  “No idea. Maybe you got lost or something?”

  She looked at me for a while, her expression blank. “I see. Either way, did you get everything that’s needed?”

  “Yes. Residence papers, money for the city gate’s foreign entrance, extra clothes, and... a couple of fruits.”

  “Fruits? Why?”

  “I don’t know. Why not?”

  She half-shrugged.

  “Step aside... we’re coming in.” Julan and the other guy held Caren by the leg and back, moving like crabs, grinding their teeth as they tried their best to get him into the carriage without their intestines popping out.

  We stepped aside as they requested. The two men switched strategies several times to lift Caren into the carriage, but kept failing.

  Then, another man—Tom, the oldest Tom in the village—came to help them.

  He was tall, skinny, maybe 6’0. His face was covered in acne scars. Unlike most men in public, he didn’t cover his black hair. Instead, he had a rag-like scarf draped over his shoulders.

  It felt weird, but whatever.

  He removed the cigar from his mouth and stuck it in his shirt pocket. “Jul, get in the carriage. Me and Merk will push him up.”

  Julan hastily nodded. “G-got it.”

  Palia tried to get Marvin to help, but he responded with, “I’m an old man. What the hell do you want me to do? Break my back trying to help?”

  The good news was they eventually got Caren in. Once they were done, they all basically collapsed on the ground, gasping for air or wiping sweat from their faces.

  Tom tried to call Natasha, but every time he got half of her name out, he had to take another breath of air.

  He stopped and recovered. Once his breathing returned to normal, he turned to Natasha and said, “No disrespect, and I know I’m out of line for asking, but…” He glanced inside, frustration evident. “But how the hell do you be fucking that?”

  Julun muttered, “That’s rude, man.”

  Natasha responded coolly, “None of your concern.”

  “Damn. Sorry,” he muttered, his gaze dropping.

  Julun nudged him with his foot. “This one of those love-don’t-discriminate kinda things?”

  Tom rolled his eyes. "Sure."

  I couldn’t help but think Julun had some kind of fetish for Julioes. I’d overheard him and his friends talk about them a few times, and his enthusiasm was... notable.

  It usually went something like this:

  “I’m telling you, Julioes women are better than what we have. They’re sexier, they got that pink skin, and their skin’s soft as hell.”

  “Watch this. You ever see a human chick stretch her breast double its length? Triple her ass size with just a snap of her finger? No. You. Haven’t.”

  “A–alright, y’all stay outdated. Yeah, I’m a gum fucker, so what? Man, I embrace that shit. I wear it like a badge. I’m happy as hell while y’all are stuck dealing with these nagging-ass bitches.”

  Bahmos came over and checked on Caren. He then said, “Let’s go.”

  We all climbed into the carriage. Palia waved us off. “We’ll be waiting for you!”

  Natasha waved back, her smile warm. “Stay safe.”

  The moment we were out of their sight, her smile dropped, replaced by a neutral expression—focused, almost as if she were a student locked in deep concentration.

  She laid Ulah down beside her, and I sat nearby.

  The guys were up front.

  Tom asked, “What happened to them?”

  I replied, “They ate some bad bread, basically.”

  He nodded slowly, looking a bit concerned. “Did your father fall or something?” He asked, eyeing the blood.

  “Yeah, a lot of falls,” I said, keeping my voice level.

  The others asked a few more questions, but the conversation fizzled out. They began chatting among themselves about things I didn’t care for.

  Bahmos eventually spoke up, saying the trip would take about eight hours. I didn’t like the sound of that, but there was nothing to be done about it.

  Natasha tapped my shoulder. When I turned to her, she pointed at my bandaged left hand.

  I glanced at it. “Need a new round?”

  “I know. That’s why I pointed it out,” she said, pulling a roll of bandage from the backpack I’d packed.

  She took my left hand and ripped the old bandage off, adjusting my palm so it wasn’t visible to the others.

  Julun spotted us and asked, “She got hurt?”

  Natasha replied, “It’s just the same left hand.”

  “Ah… Is the disfiguring any better or the same?”

  “Same,” she said with a quick glance.

  Bahmos, who had been lying down, suddenly sat up and stared at Julun, clearly confused. “Did you just ask if the disfiguring got any better? The disfiguring?”

  Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s why I tell these guys to get their asses into school. A bunch of fucktards.”

  Julun shot Tom a glare. “Dude, shut up. You see anyone here who can afford school?”

  “If you start working hard, you might be able to,” Tom responded, lighting his cigar.

  “Fuck off.”

  Natasha finished wrapping my hand, inspecting it several times before nodding in satisfaction. “Once we’re in the capital, try your absolute best to not wear it out.”

  “Got it,” I replied, feeling a strange calm settle over me.