Child of Fear

One of the younger girls approached them then. She had a light brown cloak in her hands. "I don't know if this'll help, but it should fit her well enough." The Sisters were surprised, but Miranda felt real gratitude. She thanked the girl in her own tongue. The girl may not have understood the words, but she comprehended the meaning. She smiled with joy. They took the cloak, dressing Miranda with it, and left.

Once outside the Sisters had a horse saddled for her. Mori and Scara mounted up as well, insisting that she was properly their charge and thus their responsibility. Then, surrounded by Born, his soldiers, and the two Sisters, Miranda left the city. Loum made no effort to follow. They rode into the environs of the wood as Born explained the circumstances of his involvement. "It figures that Loum would stick his nose in."

Mori said, "Yes, but typical of him. Are you sure about this shadow of yours?"

"Of course. You will see soon enough." Very shortly upon entering they stopped in the first large clearing they came to. There, standing quite openly, was a demon. His face was shrouded in the shadow of his hood, but they could tell by his great height what he was. Dressed in deepest black, he seemed to hold the night about him.

The demon girl gave a joyful cry and was off her horse in an instant. She ran to the demon man, the two holding each other. Scara felt a sudden burst of regret, almost as if she'd lost her own daughter. 'It's better this way. Those are her people.'

Mori heard her sigh, "Feeling regret?"

"How can I not? She was a girl any mother would be proud of."

"I think you long for a daughter of your own."

"In time it will happen."

A horse, huge and black, came from out of the woods without any prompting at all. Born moved forward and tossed the knife to the man, who caught it without a hitch. Scara watched sorrowfully as the girl and her guardian mounted the horse and, with a single backward glance and wave, disappeared into the forest.

* * *

On a bright, cold morning a week later Scara left the sanctum near the crack of dawn. She started upon seeing what had been left on the step. "Summon Mori, Majua, and Lord Born," she commanded an acolyte. The three soon arrived. What they saw amazed them too. Scara lifted the objects and handed them out. "I think this belongs to you." She handed Majua a small, leather bag. In it were several samples and packages that smelled like medicines.

"Demon cures?" Majua examined them with wonder, for no one knew what strength demon medicines had.

Scara handed Mori a small, wooden horse. It had been expertly carved, done by a master. "This shows just how talented these creatures are. Even with the simplest of things."

She gave a knife to Born. It was an Eastern knife, not demon make. But it had been marked with the head of a wolf. "But odd too. They understand gratitude."

Scara, whose gift was a necklace of stones, wood, and twine, knew that better than any of them. Hers was well made too, and the stones were somewhat valuable. It had obviously been made by someone of a very young age. Scara didn't have to guess who’d made it. "All they truly want is to be left alone. I think we all understand that now."

The last gift was perhaps the most precious of all, for it was a cloak of mixed brown and green, made by the same hand that had made the girl’s clothes. "A gift of gratitude for those who show kindness to others."

The End