This chapter is dedicated solely to butterballporkbun for being such a huge help and inspiration to my work!
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Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Daael Family
Xaphile was floating on his back in a void, long hair billowing around as he stared up into a face that vaguely resembled his own.
Asian-like aquamarine eyes, shoulder-length black hair... curved horns, fangs... a lion's tail. But the nose was different, and there was even something off about the boy's mouth.
It wasn't him... not a reflection of himself, but someone else... someone younger.
It was only at the last second that he realized the boy's hands were clamped around his throat.
A sense of deep and painful betrayal unexpectedly swept through him.
A name, unbidden, ghosted his lips.
"Adariel..." he croaked, gripping the boy's wrists. "Why...?"
Why.
That one word asked so many things.
Why had he awoken as a monster... why had he ended up in a strange world... why this, why that, why the hell was Ella dead on Earth but a terrifying dominatrix on Atlas?
"Come to your senses, Xaphile!" the boy on top of him snapped, tightening his fists. "You cannot fall for that human! If you reveal yourself to her, she will destroy you! Come to your senses, please!"
He no longer had control of his body.
Muscles bulging, he struggled to push the younger boy off of him and eventually succeeded.
Pinning him down on his back, they hovered above a world of nothing.
"My path is my own!" he growled, glaring at the squirming kid beneath him. "I will follow it, even if it leads to my destruction! I refuse to go against my heart!"
"That human is evil!" he cried, hitting Xaphile upside the head. "Don't let her seduction tactics fool you, Xaphile! Resist that temptress, no matter the cost! Do not lose yourself to her, for that in itself will lead to your demise! Remain by my side, please! Don't abandon me!"
"I would never abandon you," he muttered, mouth moving on its own, "but my heart is already hers. It has been hers since I was a child barely able to talk!"
"What do you mean?!"
The world greyed out and grew fuzzy as something frayed.
"Adariel," he whispered softly, "I've... imp---"
"No!" the boy shrieked, cutting him off. "I won't allow it! I won't let her kill you! I refuse!"
He turned his head to see a fist holding a rock coming up to meet his face...
Xaphile's eyes flashed open and he jerked, breathing heavily as a strange, muffled voice filled his throbbing head.
"Big brother... it hurts... help..."
A flash of inexplicable anxiety flooded through him and he clutched the side of his aching head, checking his fingers for blood, but there was nothing... not even an injury.
Once he'd calmed down a bit, his eyes slid closed once again and he just lay there, dazed. He was so tired that he couldn't even move and his mouth was unbearably dry, but there was a smell filling his nose that made him reluctant to fall back asleep.
The air was heady with the scent of something so delicious that it made his dry mouth water.
Finally dragging his lids up a crack, he blearily peered around, glancing at the flickering fireplace and momentarily forgetting where he was.
Cold blue light filtered in through the glass windows of the small, rustic log cabin he was sitting in, faintly illuminating the woman from the previous evening, who was skinning some sort of dead bird and humming while she worked.
Though he felt drained of willpower, he made himself sit up for real since it helped to clear his mind and saw that a rough blanket had been draped over him sometime during the night.
Dazed, he looked around, blinking at everything in a sleepy fashion, but right around that same moment the woman turned and noticed he was up.
"Oh," she murmured, startling him. "You're awake... good. So, how do you feel?"
Xaphile looked at her in a stupid fashion for several moments before the question clicked.
"I'm... fine, I think," he said, voice raspy with sleep. "Thank you... for letting me stay, I mean."
"The blizzard coming through the mountains turned into a white-out during the night," the woman curtly retorted, carrying the dismembered bird over to an oven built into the wall. "Last night, after you fell asleep, my husband and I discussed things... and we've decided to let you stay for a while."
Xaphile froze, instantly snapping wide awake.
Eyes blank, he swallowed, then looked up at her with a nervous smile.
"I... I'm grateful, b-but that's really not necessary," he stammered, wincing when she turned a set of skeptical blue eyes on him. "I... I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I can't stay."
"Well, you can't leave, either," she murmured, furrowing her brows. "White-outs are different than blizzards, and they're even more dangerous because it becomes impossible to see anything. You'd only get yourself lost and freeze to death."
He winced, knowing she was probably right, but he still didn't feel comfortable with it.
He weighed his options, and in the end, he decided to take the only applicable route, just like he'd done with Amelia.
"If you really insist," he murmured, finally letting out a sigh and giving her a nervous expression, "at least let me do something to earn it. If you have any work you need done, anything at all... just name it, and I'll do it."
She looked rather surprised, but then she frowned, obviously thinking about it seriously.
"Wood," she curtly told him. "If you really feel that way, you can help my eldest son, Vrael, chop the wood we keep out back."
"That's all?" he asked, frowning a bit. "Um..."
"If you wish to do more, come talk to me after you've finished the first task," she snappishly instructed, going back to what she was doing. "Now, I have to finish preparing breakfast. Go wash your face in the basin down the hall... my boys should be up soon."
Xaphile nodded and meekly stood up, slinking away from her with his eyes trained on the floor. His tail was hurting a bit from being wrapped around his neck, but aside from manually shifting the twitching thing to get rid of the kinks in it, he didn't really feel brave enough to let it loose.
He moved over to the wooden water basin Ninira had mentioned and tentatively peeked around the corridor, making sure nobody was around to see him. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he pulled his hood down and hastily splashed his face, shivering as the frigid water ran down his neck.
Shuddering, he touched his messy black hair and smoothed his bangs with his fingers.
Then he hastily jerked the hood back up, hiding his horns.
I don't know how I'm going to come up with a decent excuse to keep my hood up, he silently muttered, swallowing hard. If they discover I'm not human and react badly, I'll have to be ready to run... I don't want a repeat of what happened in Chisago.
Lifting a clawed hand, he shakily touched one of his horns, then turned and walked down the hall... just as a door swung open. He squeaked when the wood smacked him in the nose, stumbling backwards and falling flat on his backside.
The resulting clip of his teeth caused him to bite his tongue.
"Ow!" he yowled, clapping a hand to his mouth. "Fuck!"
"Oops..." a somewhat deep voice hissed; Xaphile looked up to see a boy around his own age, maybe a bit older, peering around the corner of the door with an apologetic expression. "Sorry... didn't know anyone was walking down the hall."
"Vrael!" Nini groused from the kitchen, making the boy wince. "What have I told you about swinging the doors open too quickly?"
"Sorry, Ma!" he called, then stepped around the corner and held a hand out. "Really, sorry about that... here, let me help you up."
Tongue smarting, Xaphile tentatively clasped the boy's large palm in his own and with a strong tug, he was pulled upright.
The first thing he noticed about Vrael was that he had eyes of the most expressive brown he'd ever seen. There were weird greeny-gold highlights around his iris that picked up the dim hallway light and all but juggled with it; the rest of his iris was an odd shade of red-amber.
His skin was pale like his mother's, his hair was silver like his father's, and he had a very unique facial structure. His ears, also like his dad's, were very long and sharp, but unlike his parents, Vrael was very tall.
Xaphile eyed his towering frame with a feeling of dismay settling deep within his gut.
Unless his height had changed as well and he was shorter than he'd been on earth, a lot of the men and adolescent males on Atlas were bizarrely big.
He had been around six foot five back home and he'd literally towered over most people, and if he was still the same height it would have meant that Vrael was likely over seven feet since the guy was nearly a head taller than him.
Gus and Sinmir had been taller than him, too, although Sinmir was practically a giant by himself and Gus was only taller by about two inches.
Bruno was the first guy he'd come across who seemed fairly normal in stature since he was only a little bit taller than his wife.
Xaphile suddenly had a flashback of Ella telling him about halflings being executed for simply existing and a shiver ran through his body.
This boy was obviously a halfling, which meant...
"I'm fine," he abruptly croaked, hesitantly lowering his hand from his mouth. "Really."
"Uh... but your nose is bleeding."
"It is?" Xaphile asked, lifting his hand again and touching the warm spot; he was startled when his fingers came away fairly bloody. "Oh... um... don't worry, it's fine."
"No, it's not," Vrael muttered, stepping forward and lifting his hands; to Xaphile's surprise, both of his arms were unexpectedly suffused in a familiar golden glow. "Here... hold still. I'll heal you."
Xaphile winced when he set a hand on his face.
"I bit my tongue," he muttered. "It hurts more than my nose."
"Sorry... just hold still."
Xaphile immediately felt a familiar coolness wash over him and closed his eyes, flesh tingling as if it had fallen asleep. Behind them, two much younger boys of varying age poked their blonde and silver heads out, peering curiously at the spectacle from around the door frame.
"Vrael, what are you doing?!" the blonde one, who looked to be around twelve, hissed. "Pap says we're not supposed to use magic in front of strangers!"
"So? I'm already healing him," Vrael droned, focusing on the task at hand. "I accidentally bloodied his nose when I opened the door, but if you tell Ma or Pa what I'm doing, I'll lock you in the outhouse."
"Meanie! You're gonna get in trouble!"
"Whatever, brat," Vrael drawled, letting out a sigh before he pulled his hand back. "Now, uh... could you show me your tongue?"
Xaphile hesitantly did as he was asked.
Vrael winced when he saw the row of tooth marks welling with blood on the organ's surface, but a single glowing fingertip was all it took to heal the gashes. When he was done, he pulled back and the glow around his hands disappeared. Xaphile touched his nose, then let out a sigh.
"Thank you," he murmured, giving a grateful nod. "I really appreciate that."
"No problem," the halfling chuckled, then pushed his white hair out of his face and held out his hand once again, this time with a friendlier grin. "Anyway, as I'm sure you've already heard, my name's Vrael... what's yours?"
"Xaphile," he murmured, clasping the boy's palm a second time; they shook. "I go by Phil."
"Interesting name," Vrael noted, quirking a thick silver brow; then he beamed and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Those are my little brothers. The blonde one with the tart mouth is Windal, and the small one is Faeble."
"Hi," Xaphile sheepishly greeted, giving the kids an awkward wave; the youngest child squeaked and fled inside the bedroom, white hair flashing out of sight. The blonde merely stuck out his tongue before jerking his head back into the room and slamming the door.
"Don't worry," Vrael chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Fae's really shy, and Windal's a brat. Anyway, I have to get busy with my chores now, but if you want to chat later, I wouldn't mind. It's not every day I get to talk with people around my own age."
"Do those chores involve chopping wood?" Xaphile asked. "Mind showing me how to do it properly? I'm actually going to be helping you."
"Eh? Why?" Vrael scoffed. "I mean, if I were you, I'd avoid it. I hate chopping wood... especially when its snowing like this. Why would you want to?"
"Well," Xaphile explained, shrugging with an uncomfortable expression, "your parents are letting me stay here until the storm lets up, so I'm working for it."
Vrael's brows furrowed.
"That's new," he muttered in a dark tone, shaking his head. "We've let plenty of people stay here for free... why now?"
"Because I offered to," Xaphile said simply. "I honestly wouldn't feel right if I didn't do something to earn what I'm being given. Call me a prude, but letting someone stay in your home isn't easy... and I'm not a freeloader of any sort."
Vrael's already bright eyes gleamed after hearing that.
"You know what? I actually think you and I are gonna get along," he laughed, then turned and jogged down the hall before waving him on. "Come on! Let's get you a coat, then I'll show you how to start chopping!"
He moved past his wary-eyed mother with little fanfare and grabbed two parkas, holding one out to Xaphile, who hesitantly shrugged it on. It proved to be a fairly difficult task getting the furs to fasten right, but once he was bundled up they headed for the door.
Nini, however, looked a bit disquieted.
"Vrael, wait!" she called, making him turn. "Will you be fine alone?"
Xaphile opened his mouth to say that they wouldn't be alone, they would be together, but then he saw the look on her face and he instantly closed his mouth, sharp teeth clicking together with a snap. After a second, the woman caught his stare and glanced at him darkly.
"Oh, Ma, we'll be fine," Vrael laughed, not getting that his mother was asking if he'd be all right taking care of him, a possible threat, alone. "We won't go too far from the house, don't worry."
"All right," she muttered, letting loose a sigh when her husband walked out of their bedroom and into the kitchen. "You be careful with those axes, all right?"
"We will, Ma," Vrael sighed, rolling his eyes. "Let's go, Phil!"
However, as Xaphile walked outside he felt cold, and it had nothing to do with the frigidness of the air.
Vrael's mom genuinely thought he was a danger to her family.
He couldn't necessarily blame her after everything he'd seen so far, but still... it stung.
Once they were out in the snow, however, he was actually kind of alarmed.
He'd never seen such thick snowfall before, not once in his whole life: all around the cottage was a literal wall of white that looked thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Vrael seemed to notice the stunned expression on his face and turned, clapping a hand on his arm.
"Come on, we really will be fine!" he chuckled, giving an impish grin. "Just stay close!"
Xaphile looked at him for a long moment before he nodded, the gesture slipping out before he could think. Keeping close to the half-elf's back, he blindly walked with his head down, putting all of his trust in the fact that Vrael knew where he was going.
When they finally stopped, they were standing in front of an old shed that wasn't too far away from the house. The wind was howling in their ears almost deafeningly. Shivering, Vrael hurried inside with Xaphile following, and he curiously peered around at the clutter.
The whole shed was filled from top to bottom with blocks of wood.
"Whoa," he muttered, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Talk about hoarding..."
"Well, yeah, obviously. This is how we keep warm!" Vrael explained, carefully grabbing something from behind a nearby shelf and pulling it out into the open. "Here, take this."
Xaphile twitched when he took the object and found himself holding a crooked axe; when he glanced up, he saw that Vrael had pulled out another one.
Hefting it over his shoulder, the boy grabbed a few logs in his other arm and gestured with his head for him to do the same. Carefully setting his own axe against his shoulder, Xaphile grabbed just as many logs, then the two of them walked back outside.
"All right!" Vrael called, stopping near a bump in the snow; with his long leg, he cleared the drifts to reveal a huge, flat tree stump. "Set all the logs right here, but keep one of them standing up."
Blinking, Xaphile did as he was told, setting all of the logs down.
"What now?" he called back. "I've never done this before!"
"Well, you hold the axe like this!" Vrael explained, showing him how to grip the handle. "Then, you take aim at the end of the log and bring the blade down with as much force as you can! Try to aim for the middle! Watch carefully, 'kay?!"
Xaphile watched with focused eyes as he swung the blade up and over his shoulder, following it all the way down to the block of wood with his eyes. When the axe head collided with it, he was stunned to see the block split in two like a stick of butter.
"WHOA!" he exclaimed, mouth dropping open. "You cut it with one swing!"
"Yeah! Now, you try!" Vrael laughed, beaming at him. "Go on! Just like I showed you!"
Xaphile swallowed, then gathered his courage and hefted the axe.
Keeping his eyes trained on the spot he wanted to hit, he brought the tool up and over his shoulder like he'd seen Vrael do. The blade came whistling down, but instead of a clean chop, it split only halfway. Feeling embarrassed, he did it again, this time with a successful cut.
"Not bad for your first try!" Vrael loudly noted. "Took me five swings the first time I ever attempted to cut wood! Granted, I was ten years old, but still!"
"Ugh, I'll try to get it right!" Xaphile exclaimed, setting up another log; across from him, Vrael did the same and began chopping, once again cutting the wood in a single swing. Xaphile was dismayed when he once again had to chop twice. "Dammit."
"Don't worry!" Vrael laughed, looking amused by his frustration. "You're doing fine!"
And so, it went: chopping log after log, Xaphile progressively started getting a little bit better with each swing, to the point where he actually started to enjoy the physical labor. He had always enjoyed excising, after all. Plus, Bruno's eldest son was actually a very encouraging guy.
He laughed just as much as he took the time to give him pointers.
When they were finally done, Xaphile was actually a bit disappointed. Wiping his forehead, he and Vrael gathered the chopped wood and laboriously carried it all inside.
The air in the cottage felt a little too warm after the sub-zero atmosphere outside, but it smelled like chicken and baked goods and something else that was especially sweet so he didn't care too much about the heat.
Bruno was seated at the table when they walked in together.
"We're finished!" Vrael explained, giving his surprised mother a nod. "Don't worry!"
"That took half the time it normally does," she murmured, furrowing her brows when the two of them carefully stacked the wood beside the fireplace. "Everything went smoothly, right?"
"Yeah, and we even chopped more wood than normal, too!" Vrael exclaimed, beaming at her. "With Phil's help, it was surprisingly easy!"
Bruno instantly gave his wife a knowing smile, which she purposely ignored.
"Good job, sweetheart," Nini murmured, giving her son a nod before she returned to making breakfast. "Take off your boots and that jacket... don't want to track snow all over the place."
When the boy obediently started doing as he was told, Xaphile did the same.
Shaking his hooded shirt out and inconspicuously adjusting his cramping tail, he bent down to take off the shoes that Amelia had given him one month and an eternity ago. He shivered slightly after pulling them off... but then, he saw his toes and instantly looked elsewhere.
All he could do was pray nobody noticed that he had claws rather than normal nails.
When Vrael walked down the hall towards his room, Xaphile decided to make himself useful.
"Need help with breakfast?" he asked, walking over to where Ninira was standing. "I've got an extra set of hands if you need them."
She turned a pair of slightly scornful blue eyes on him.
"No, you can go keep Vrael company. If you want to help, just... go."
Xaphile winced, then turned and silently walked down the hall, shoulders hunched.
The door to Vrael's room was open.
Peering inside, he spotted the boy making his brothers' beds: Windal was teasing Faeble by keeping one of his toys away from him, but for the most part, they seemed to get along.
I don't belong here, he suddenly realized, sadly lowering his eyes. He was just about to turn and walk away when Vrael noticed him standing there.
"Oi, Phil! Can I ask you something?" he called, fluffing out the pillow. "How old are you?"
Xaphile cast a glance at him.
"Seventeen," he said quietly, looking away when the boy gave him a look of startled disbelief. "My birthday was roughly two months ago. Why do you ask?"
Vrael was silent for a long moment.
"No way," he finally muttered; walking over, he leaned close to Xaphile's face and peered at him more carefully. "There's no way you're that old."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Xaphile asked, eyebrow instantly twitching. "How old are you?"
"It means you look way younger than you are! You don't look a day over sixteen, at most. And for your information, I'm eighteen years old," he proudly explained, jerking a thumb at himself. "I just became an adult about six months ago!"
Xaphile nodded, digesting that piece of information with a hollow feeling in his gut.
"So... what are you doing next?" he asked, wanting to change the subject. "More chores?"
"After this, there's not much else to do since we're stuck inside," Vrael sighed, shrugging a bit before he sat down. "All of the chores we normally take care of are done and over with. If you want, you can sit in here with me and chat for a bit."
Xaphile sighed and moved into the room, carefully sitting down on the floor.
Windal snorted and walked out into the hall, but Faeble merely hid under the bed, watching him with large eyes. The little boy, who's silvery hair was long enough to touch his shoulders, stuck his thumb in his mouth.
"Don't mind him," Vrael noted, tearing Xaphile's gaze away from the kid. "He's still pretty young... and he isn't used to meeting new people. He'll come around. Now, want to exchange stories or something? I'm sure you've been to a lot of places... you just have that kind of air about you."
Xaphile shook his head with a weary sigh.
"I'm not big on traveling, and the largest city I've ever really been to was Ordin," he admitted with a slightly disgruntled expression. "Plus, I'm not a good story-teller."
"Aw, come on," Vrael coaxed, leaning forward. "Ya gotta tell me at least one good story! I mean, surely something exciting has happened to you on your travels!"
Xaphile thought about everything that had happened over the last month with a lost expression.
"Well," he finally muttered, hunching his shoulders, "there was this one incident on the road... my companions and I were attacked by slavers."
"Eh?" the half elf breathed, eyes gleaming. "Tell me! It sounds exciting!"
And so, he did... he told Vrael about Gus, Ella, and Amelia, then gave the boy a very brief description about his relationships with each of them. He talked about the journey they'd decided to take, but left the real reasons for it alone.
He really only brushed the surface of his struggles with Ella.
When he explained the situation with the slavers, and the arrow in his shoulder, Vrael's eyes widened and even Fae seemed transfixed.
"Did it leave a scar?" he asked, eagerly leaning forward when he was finally done. "That sounds like it was utterly intense... how bad did it hurt?"
Xaphile swallowed, not meeting his eyes.
"Bad," he mumbled, shrugging. "I thought I was going to die... if it hadn't been for Amelia, I probably wouldn't have survived."
"With such incredible companions, why would you leave them to come here?" Vrael asked, making him flinch. "I don't get it. All of you are bound by friendship, right?"
"Well, Ella and I got into a fight. We both said and did things that I'm sure we both regret. At the time, I was so overwhelmed that I supposedly used magic."
"Eh?" Vrael gasped, eyes widening with surprise. "So, you're a mage?!"
"Sort of," he confirmed, shrugging awkwardly. "According to what your dad said, I somehow teleported myself up in the mountains, but I have no clue how I did it. I'm still learning about magic, after all... it was only recently that I discovered I can tap into it at all."
"Whoa," Vrael muttered, blinking rapidly. "So, you're a novice, but you're saying you can actually use magic that easily already?"
"Well, I was being taught for a reason," Xaphile sighed, giving a small shrug. "I still don't know how to properly use it at will, but hopefully I'll get the hang of it."
Right around that moment, Windal stomped back into the room.
"Breakfast is ready!" he screeched, making all three boys jump. "Ha ha! Scared ya!"
"You little brat!" Vrael snapped, scowling at his sibling. "Don't do that!"
The blonde merely stuck his tongue out and ran back down the hall.
Shrugging, the eldest of the three got up and held out a hand to Xaphile, who clasped it, and once he was tugged upright, the half elf glanced at his youngest brother and grinned before walking out of the room, tugging him along.
Eyes widening, Fae crawled out of hiding and toddled after them.
Once Xaphile was seated, he kept his head down, since everyone's eyes were on him, but then the family began to eat and started chatting with each other about the snow storm and their neighbors. He hesitantly joined in, but he totally ignored the bird meat on his plate. Ninira sent a very dark look his way when she noticed, but to make up for it, he completely ate everything else and scraped his plate clean.
Bruno, after a time, also noticed.
"Why aren't yeh eatin' the meat?" he asked with a frown. "Not to yer taste?"
"It's not that," Xaphile protested, frantically shaking his head. "I'm sure it's probably delicious, but... I can't eat it. I'm... I'm allergic to meat."
It was definitely a lie, but even though it made him really uncomfortable, he needed a decent excuse.
"Allergic to meat?" Ninira demanded, obviously not believing her ears. "Preposterous! If that was the case, you would be thin and sickly, yet you look healthy as can be!"
"I'm... afraid that's not necessarily true," he quietly told her, not lifting his eyes. "The reason we eat meat is because it's good for us, but there are other foods out there that make good substitutions."
"Substitutions like what?" Vrael asked, looking genuinely intrigued. "I've never heard of a meat allergy before. How do you get around it?"
"Well, soy beans are a good example," Xaphile explained, giving him a glance. "They have a lot of the same stuff in them that meats do... in fact, where I come from, some people actually think its healthier to eat soy beans than meat, but I, personally, can't eat it... I'm sorry."
That seemed to pacify everyone.
"Not at all," Bruno chuckled, leaning forward and snatching the bird leg off his plate, much to his wife's obvious displeasure. "I'll take it from here... shouldn't let my wife's delicious cooking go to waste."
Her irritated expression smoothed out instantly and a reluctant twinkle lit up her eyes.
"Do we have any peaches?" Windal asked, sulking down in his chair. "I want something sweet."
"All we have are pears, darling," Ninira explained, getting up and walking over to a shelf in the kitchen area; stretching her hands up, she pulled a glass jar of pickled fruit out into the open. "Want some?"
"I like peaches better," the blonde boy grumbled. "They're sweeter."
"There aren't any," Ninira murmured, opening the jar and putting the fruit into several bowls; her denial was as neat as her ironed skirt and blouse. "Maybe next month, okay?"
"Phooey," Windal muttered, frowning when his mother set one of the bowls in front of him; he picked up his nearby spoon and shoveled a large bite into his mouth. "Pears. Phooey."
"Don't complain, brat," Vrael snorted, but he ruffled his little brother's blonde hair with affection regardless. "Ma's pickled pears are just as delicious as her peaches and plums."
"Oh, her pickled plums are my personal favorite," Bruno chuckled, waggling his brows. "They've got a tang to rival all the orchards up in the Capital!"
Xaphile blinked as a bowl was set in front of him as well, but when he glanced up at Ninira, she was looking at him with a very reserved expression.
"For your hard work," she said quietly, giving a nod.
He blinked again, then grabbed the spoon and cut a slice of the pear... but when he popped it into his mouth, flavor unlike any other exploded into his taste buds. He nearly choked. Then, he began to eat rapidly, feeling a delightful tingle running through him.
Halfway through, he looked at her.
"You seriously made this?!" he asked, making her draw back with an expression of surprise. "No way! This is one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted!"
She immediately frowned.
"Surely you jest," she muttered. "There are plenty of people who are better at it than I."
"I'm not joking!" he exclaimed, instantly going back to eating. "This is super delicious!"
When he popped another piece of pear in his mouth, he actually swooned since it tasted nothing like the pears he'd had back on earth. So sweet and delightfully juicy that he almost couldn't stand it. Xaphile closed his eyes as he chewed, savoring the unusual taste, but temptation soon overwhelmed him and he took another big bite.
🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗
Vrael was intrigued.
Xaphile was unlike anyone he'd ever met before, what with the way he was scarfing down his mother's pickled pears.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, watching him eat with a cocked eyebrow. "You're scarfing all that down quicker than Pa could."
He blinked when Xaphile looked at him: mouth closed and full of food, he gave such a broad, tight-lipped smile that it lit his half-hidden eyes up from the inside.
He didn't even need to say it aloud for Vrael to know what that look meant. The smile said more than any words could have.
'Hell yes.'
Vrael was a little curious about what he fully looked like, though, since he hadn't taken his hood off once since he'd arived. All he'd seen of his face were those unusual almond-shaped eyes, his thin red lips, and his strong, slightly arched nose, and the fringe of his black hair did a good job of masking even those features.
When Xaphile finished eating, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, looking satisfied.
Vrael didn't think anything of it until he spotted something on his hands and blinked, looking closer.
Just like that, he froze.
Staring at the sharp-looking black claws sticking out of their guest's long fingers with a confused and somewhat wary expression.
Then his long sleeves obscured his hands and those sharp-looking nails disappeared.
Vrael suddenly felt uneasy, but he kept his worry off his face, silently choosing to watch him more carefully, and if necessary, to confront him about those nails.
Oblivious to his intense stare, Xaphile stood up from the table and looked around, face pulling taut.
"Um... where and how do you take baths here?"
"Didn't you see the barrel in the back room?" Bruno inquired. "It's lined with metal, and beneath it is a fireplace."
"Where do you get water from?" Xaphile asked, looking surprised, "Do you draw it from a well or a pump?"
Bruno blinked, then let out a laugh.
"Nay," he chuckled, "we fill the whole thing up with snow till we have enough water to bathe. I assume you're asking because you wish to take one, but the day's barely begun! You can have a good, long soak later on tonight!"
"All right," Xaphile murmured, giving a nod. "Thank you very much for the hospitality."
When he cracked a faint, half-hearted grin, an icy shock went through Vrael's heart and he almost gasped aloud since his teeth were extremely long and sharp like a wildcat's fangs.
His teeth! he silently cried, eyes widening in total shock. He's not human in the slightest! Is he a halfling of some sort?!
Vrael didn't know, but he figured it would be a good idea to get to know him a little better since the thought of becoming friends with another halfling made his hopeful mood skyrocket far beyond the usual level.
"Hey, Phil!" he cheerfully called, making the boy turn. "Want to talk a bit more?"
"Uh, sure. I don't mind."
Vrael beamed and hastily inhaled down his food, then rose to his feet and set his dishes on the kitchen counter before sauntering down the hall.
They continued working on and off for the rest of the day, with Xaphile taking catnaps by the fireplace between chores, and because he seemed so tired, Vrael eventually let him rest until later that evening.
After taking his bath, Vrael woke the sleeping boy up by gently tapping his arm, but when those luminescent blue-green eyes blinked open and looked at him groggily, he stared blankly.
His irises were large, and his pupils were even larger, but something about them was a little strange even though Vrael couldn't really place why.
It wasn't until those round pupils shrank into thin, catlike slits that he understood, but he had to admit the sight spooked him.
"Erm, bath's ready if you want it," he nervously chuckled, pushing his wet hair back and giving a bright grin. "Feel free."
"Thanks," Xaphile croaked, half-drunk with sleep; moving automatically, he stood up and wobbled down the hall, yawning with his eyes sliding closed.
Tired as he was, he didn't notice when Vrael stealthily followed him, watching as he walked into the washroom. Once the door had been shut, Vrael ducked down and snuck forward, pulling it back open just a crack.
He just had to know what kind of halfling the boy was. Even if it was only a glimpse, he had to know.
Xaphile was standing in place, peering at the barrel, but his deameanor had completely changed within seconds.
His shoulders were literally sagging and he looked so worn out that Vrael was almost guilted into walking away and putting his suspicions to rest, but before he could, for the first time, Xaphile pulled his hood down.
Vrael stared, not comprehending what he was really seeing since, from behind, all he could see was a bulge of shiny black stuff.
Then the boy lifted his arms and wearily took off his shirt. Vrael's eyes widened in shock, because the moment he pulled the baggy piece of clothing over his head, a wave of rippling jet black hair slid back down around shoulders and tumbled down to his thighs like a rippling waterfall.
He almost gasped, momentarily wondering if Xaphile was really a girl until he turned slightly, revealing a flat chest, a highly masculine treasure trail, and an abdomen rippling with a shocking amount of muscle.
Tendrils of glossy hair rippled against his pale skin when he turned, moving over to the wall and slipping his hoodie onto a hook, but Vrael watched him with uneasy eyes: he was shirtless, but that had only revealed how lean he was.
Despite being extremely muscular, Xaphile was fairly thin... almost unhealthily so, Vrael observed, but then the boy turned around and he saw something odd around his neck.
Narrowing his eyes, he tried to see what it was... but when the furry thing unwound itself from Xaphile's throat and flicked off to the side, he jumped and clutched his mouth to muffle a gasp.
A tail, Vrael silently breathed. That's... a tail.
Numb, he watched as Xaphile sat down on the floor, shoulders sagging even further as he lifted his freakishly clawed hands and gently began massaging the furry black limb extending from the base of his tailbone.
"Ow," he muttered, letting out a heavy sigh. "I didn't think hiding it would hurt this bad."
When he tilted his head, Vrael's already huge eyes landed on the horns sticking out of his skull.
He jumped.
He instantly wanted to run for his parents, but he was frozen with horror.
He could only watch as Xaphile let go of his tail and gently tugged his long hair over his shoulder, carefully running his claws through it and untangling the knots to the best of his ability. It was while he was doing this, however, that Vrael noticed something odd on his back.
He didn't know what he was looking at until Xaphile stood up, facing the barrel of hot water.
Vrael froze a second time, eyes widening even further, but this time for a different reason.
Xaphile's body had been mutilated.
The length of his hair did a damn good job of hiding it, but from what he could see, his pale skin was covered in what looked like... scars. There wasn't an inch of his rear torso that had been left untouched, not even his broad shoulders and his neck....
"Gods above," Vrael whispered, hastily closing the door when Xaphile unbuckled his trousers and slid his tail out of the hole; sliding down and pressing his back against the wall, he stared off into space, feeling alarmed. "He's a demon... we've let a blasted demon into our home."
He pictured the horror that would cross his parents' faces if they found out.
He couldn't tell them.
Doing so would damn the lives of other people in the future, and he didn't want to be responsible for that. Instead, he decided he would settle the situation himself when everyone else was asleep.
He had to.
Xaphile was a demon.
Vrael knew he was.
The reason?
Only demons had horns.