The Midluff villages calmed quickly after the knight and his hunting party left, and life seemed to return back to normal.
Several days after the horsed riders chased wildly through the woods, gouging damp earth with their hoofs, another pair of feet, bare and scratched, followed their trail, stepping carefully into the muddy imprints.
A little girl of four or five years of age stumbled out of the woods to the cliffs, to the very spot where the demon jumped, and knelt trembling at the edge, looking below. The chilly autumn rain streamed down her skinny naked body, and plastered light locks straight to her back. For almost an hour, she waited silently by the cliffs, then startled and ran back to the woods, taking cover behind the brown bushes. Only a short time later, two men came to stand in the exact same spot.
"Blast this rain. It turned everything to mud. I thought for sure it was coming here."
"Are you sure about this, Ru? I don't know much about tracking, but even I can tell those footprints were left by little human feet."
"Yes, I am sure. Remember what they said? How a demon turned into a man?"
"Aha."
"This one must pretend to be a child."
"How can you be so sure, Ru?"
"What child you know of would last this long in the woods, in this cold? No, there were two of them. That lord's hunters killed one by the cliffs, but there was another and it hid not far from Kumen. I tracked its trail from there. Well..." The man shrugged, and continued to search the ground, while his partner waited. "...I thought for sure I'd find the trail here again. For a while it seemed as though it were following the other..." The hunter muttered to himself.
"I'm fair worn out, Ru. Hungry, too." The other man sighed, shivering under his wet cloak. "Lets go back to Bayana. It's almost cold enough for snow. Winter's going to come in early this year, I can feel it. Let's go back. I'd hate it if we were caught by the storms. We don't have enough supplies."
"It could not have gone far..." The hunter whispered irritably, looking around himself. There was only rain persistently pouring down, splattering in the cold, muddy pools around them, and rustling the last patches of brown leaves on bleak branches.
"This not be the only one left to hunt, Ru." The young man complained, his teeth lightly chattering. "There be more of them in the woods by Nosque. The people say that wild animals took to stealing food and clothing from villages there."
"Yes, I heard about that..." His brother agreed thoughtfully.
"Yes, so maybe they'll be easier to catch than this one. There be lots of villages there. We need to get more supplies, Ru."
"...Do you know what that means, Rin?" The older brother interrupted impatiently.
"...What?"
"That means that these things cannot live as animals, even if they can look like them. They need food and shelter. When the winter comes, there will be no place for it to go... There be many kind folks living around here. If it pretends to be a child well enough, and someone finds it, they might take it in. These folks don't know any better..."
The hunter smiled.
"Then I recon we should warn them." The younger man sighed, after a moment of wavering.
"...No. No one else knows about this demon. The reward is even bigger now. If we tell the villagers of it, someone will get it before us. What we will do is return to Bayana and wait for snows to fall. Then, it will be much easier to track it. There are only sixteen villages that lie higher up in these mountains. The farthest be Kumen, Rowan, Ranook, Dur, Fiffen, and Nishanka. We'll come back and check if anyone seen anything. We might find this demon easy, if it comes to a village."
"But, Ru, how will you prove that it is a demon, and not a real child? The people around here don't trust outsiders. They might not let us take it." The youth asked doubtfully.
"Well, the priests said that demons cannot speak. And, they are afraid of the fire. That be why that lord's hunters burn everything they hunt down. There are priests in Bayana. And I know a duellen in Ranook. I'll talk to him. He might be able to tell us of other ways to tell it apart."
"But what if it harms someone?"
"We won't be gone that long. Hey, don't be so worried. Or don't you want to get your share of the reward?" The hunter clapped the younger man on his shoulder encouragingly.
"Don't worry. Word travels fast, even in these parts. Only fools will ignore the rumors. The wise will chase anything that comes back into the woods."
The young man smiled reluctantly, then smiled wider at his brother's raised eye-brows. The hunter clapped him on the shoulder again, and chuckled lightly. Turning around, they walked away back the way they came.
The little girl watched them leave from behind the earthy clump. She didn't understand their words, and did not dare to get up for a while after they left. When she got up, her entire body was covered with wet mud. Shaking, she made her way down the cliff back into the thicker woods, all the while listening for human voices, ready to run and hide. All human voices sounded like so much rough garbling and their laughter was no different than the barking of dogs, which terrified her. As yet, she was unused to the noises she heard with her new senses.
She heard a snapping branch behind her, startled, and fled through the scratching brambles, until she stumbled and fell. Instinctively, she froze, and listened, even though her heart beat so fast that she felt it might jump from her chest.
With no sign of pursuit, she got up and continued on wearily through the woods, shivering in the persistent, cold rain. She stopped by the edge of the fields next to the village, where she and her mother paused by earlier. That was where her mother had sought to come close to one of their young ones, to obtain a better disguise for her.
Forgetfully, the girl touched the bleeding gash on the sole of her right foot, which bothered her the most, wishing that it would heal. But it did not. The girl winced, putting the foot down again. For a while, she watched the large men working in the fields, but made no effort to approach.
She remembered hiding not far from here, where her mother bid her. She was so afraid that she forgot to breathe. She knew what these vicious beings would do to her if they found her, because she had seen and felt it happen to the others.
Her older brother was the first they slaughtered for no cause. He didn't even know to run from them, when they felled him with sharp wooden sticks they could hurl from a great distance. He was hurt worse than his two friends, and so could not run away when the monsters came upon him and hacked him apart with sharp pieces of metal. His images of fear and bewildered pain screamed the first warning.
Afterward, the grown-ups still argued on whether to leave, or to stay and try to approach these aggressive beings subtly, until they could find a way to speak with them.
"They are an isolated and ignorant people. Their reaction toward us is guided by fear." Her grand-father argued. A few didn't wait for the decision of the elders and left. Her father's brother and his pregnant wife were among them, and her older cousin. The rest were still undecided, when more of the monsters came, and killed nearly everyone who had remained behind. Her grand-father died trying to protect her, and probably all of the other children. She didn't know, because her mother and the parents of the other children hiding in the same room, came and took them away. But the slayers kept chasing after them relentlessly for days. They killed the siblings' father. And these very same men that she saw now in the field, had helped to hunt her and her mother. After her mother lead them away, they passed by very, very close to the hollow of a tree where her mother left her, hiding. Two dogs found her in turn and nosed her, sniffing her human scent, and left her alone.
The girl shuddered at the terrifying memory, and quietly took a wide turn around this village, back through the alien woods.
She was hungry, faint, and unbearably cold because of the rain. It has been raining non-stop for the past several days. The other animals smelled her human scent and chased her out, when she tried to find someplace to curl up. Without her mother's help, she could not change, nor speak to them.
Coming upon a pasture, where large, placid animals grazed on tall, yellow grass, and the lonely barn where they could take shelter, with no humans or their houses in immediate sight, the cold drove her to desperation. The little girl ran to the barn, slipped inside, found the farthest niche, and crawled under the hay.
She awakened when the barn doors creaked open, and footsteps approached. She felt strange. Her whole body burned, and the world seemed to spin a little. Her breath catching, she peeked out of the hay. She saw a human girl in a heavy, thick dress with long sleeves, carrying a bucket.
Why would anyone want to wear so many clothes, the little one thought absently, when it was so hot? Her vision swayed.
"Well, hello there." The older girl said. Realizing that the girl noticed her, the little one dived under the straw again, then heard the footsteps come closer.
"Don't be afraid. You can come out." The human girl called, but the child didn't respond.
"Father!" The girl called. The barn doors opened again, and heavier, larger footfalls came.
"What is it, Marisha?"
"There is a child in here. A wee little girl in that hay pile."
"You don't say."
The man's large hands roved into the hay pile. The little one slid out on the other side and scampered behind the wooden plank that stood leaning against the wall. The man followed her and slowly moved the plank. He towered above the child with a kindly, bemused expression. The little girl froze still, then began to shake violently. Her pretty little face blanched pale and her large blue eyes seemed dazed with fear. Her breath came jaggedly fast. She reminded him much of a small trapped animal, too stunned to run, and pity pierced his heart.
"Look at her shaking. She is cold, the poor thing." The older girl shook her head with concern. The man grunted, then took off his cloak and wrapped it around the child. She collapsed at his touch. She was light as a feather when he scooped her up in his cloak and carried her to the house down the hill.
The heavy-set, gray-haired woman stirred a deliciously smelling, steaming pot of stew on the stove, and curiously looked at her husband when he came through with a bundle in his hands.
"Look what I found, Martha." The man declared to her. "This little waif in the barn. Must've been freezing, what with the rain and all, and not a stitch on her. Fainted from the fear of me."
"That cause you be so big, and angry lookin'. I'll take the child. I'll warm her right up." Martha said cheerfully, taking the cloaked child carefully from his hands. "You go back to work, Paul. I'll look after her."
The little girl did not awaken from her fright, but fell right into a fever. She tossed and turned, but never once uttered a sound, while Martha wiped her sweating forehead and forced broth into her mouth.
Two days passed, before Martha finally found her awake. The gaze of amazingly clear, blue eyes met her. The child was so weak, that she could not move at first. Then, she tried to help, her small hot hands touching Martha's to hold the broth cup that Martha put to her lips to drink. After that, she recovered swiftly.
Within two more days, Paul and Marisha returned to find the little girl cleaned up and clothed in Marisha's old patched clothes, sitting on the wooden bench by the table, helping Martha sort through berries that Paul brought home a day hence. The child's diligent, serious look warmed the older man's heart and eased his thoughts of crazy rumors flying around of late of blood-thirsty demons and wolf-eyed changelings laying in wait for the people outside the villages. He had been in the woods all his life, and never heard anything of the like before.
"A good heart in this child. Wouldn't mind if we kept her, with her having no place to go and all." Martha commented. Her husband grunted, still unsure. "Hasn't said a word." Martha continued, unbothered. "Hears me well enough, though. Isn't it right, pumpkin?"
The child's large eyes lifted from her work, and she responded with a small trusting smile to Martha's, the first that Paul had seen on her face. His heart melted at the sight of it and decided him in favor of the child.
"If she be an orphan, I don't see why we can't keep her." He told his wife. "We have food plenty enough. How much can a wee one like that eat, anyhow?" The older man turned to the little one. "How that be, young 'un?" He asked her very gently, mindful of the fright he gave her the first time. "Would you like to stay with us? There be lots of chores, 'course, but you'll be warm, and Martha cooks mighty good food."
Martha smiled, pleased. The little girl did not understand his words, but her heart desperately searched for safety, and she found it in the kindness of his voice. The only thing she could offer in return was trust, and she offered it, jumping up off the bench and falling against him in a clinging hug. He patted her gently.
"You be fine here, dear. Nothing to be frightened of. Why your heart's all aflutter like a bird in a cage? Martha, take the child." He surrendered the clinging child to his wife. Martha rocked her, and hushed her, and finally laid her in the make-shift bed they made for her on the back niche of the stove when she saw that the child's eyes were closing heavy with sleep.
"But, Martha. What will we call her, though? What her name be?" Paul said with a puzzled frown.
"I don't know, dear. I tried to ask her, but she be puzzled when I speak too many words, though she not be dumb. I start calling her Liani, after the golden flower you once brought me, because her hair be so fine and fair." The woman gently touched the girl's soft, silky gold hair. The sleeping child turned in her spot, nestling into a tight curl under the quilt.
"I wish I knew where she came from." Paul sighed. "And what will the neighbors say? There be vicious gossips afoot. Old McPherson says we should not take in any foundlings this winter, because they be demons or some other nonsense. Two hunters came and left only yesterday. They were asking if any strangers came to our village. They also spoke of demons. Said they might come here pretending to be people and even children. They said we should chase them away."
"Nonsense. There are no such things as demons. Nothing but old tales to scare the bad out of little children. Look at this child. Does she look like a demon to you? And why would you be listening to McPherson? Everyone knows we've always helped orphans. Is not our own Marisha a foundling? And Karin and Logan, them boys now be full grown, and apprenticed along with Kam, our own son? Old McPherson is just that, a lazy old gossip with too many foolish stories to tell. I'll go talk to his wife and wait and see if she don't have a word with him. You should be ashamed of yourself for listening!" Paul only scratched his graying head in response to Martha's words, and grunted uncomfortably.
... The first snow fell over the mountains and valleys of Pharshena, veiling all in white. Because of the rumors, Paul and Martha said nothing about their foundling to anyone in their village at first. But Liani was a shy and gentle child, who preferred to stay in-doors. She attentively watched Marisha and when Marisha noticed, she gladly taught her new found sister how to do things. They then did their shores together. Marisha was very pleased to have such a diligent helper. On occasion, Marisha tried to tempt her sister to sneak away with her to slide a sleigh down the snowy hill, but Liani silently shook her head. She did not like the cold, and looked at the snow with deep mistrust.
"You'd think the child never saw snow before." Paul joked to Martha about it. Martha encouraged the solemn child to go out and have fun. Only then did Liani dare step out of the house.
Marisha had to take her bundled-up sister by her mitten and draw her to the slope. After the third slide down, though, the little girl's cheeks flamed red and she beamed at her sister with merry delight. Marisha cheerfully laughed with her. She was not bothered that even Liani's laughter was silent. It was so easy to start caring for her careful, trusting little sister. Marisha found herself chatting, joking, and sharing secrets with her.
Mrs. Nurishma Auger, Paul's and Martha's closest neighbor, learned about their adopted daughter, first, when she had come to visit for tea, as she always did every other Tuesday. When Marisha and Liani returned from their sleigh ride, the middle-aged woman was seated at the table with a steaming mug and a slice of jam pie before her, gently nodding to Martha's quiet words. She greeted the girls with a kind, patient nod and waited for them to hang up their coats and take their boots off.
"Come here, child." She called to Liani. The little girl glanced at Martha, who nodded encouragingly to her. Paul stood by the fire-place, frowning. Visibly gathering courage, the little girl walked over and stood before Mrs. Auger. Mrs. Auger looked into the child's anxious sky blue eyes, studied her ruddy face, and gently patted her braided golden hair.
"There is no evil in this little heart. You did not make a mistake to adopt her." She confirmed, pleased.
"But the rumors. Are they really true?" Martha asked respectfully, incredulous. Mrs. Auger merely contentedly patted the little girl on the cheek and dismissed her.
"Yes... So it would be best if you did not say that you found this child. Say instead that she be your niece, that Paul brought her here to stay with you for the winter."
Paul grunted, uncomfortable.
"That we'll do. Thank you for your wisdom, Mrs. Auger."
"Mmmm. Good tea..." The elderly woman nodded, taking a sip with a pleased expression on her face. Her pale blue eyes followed the little golden-haired child, whom Marisha drew away with her.
Paul, Martha, and Marisha followed Mrs. Auger's advice. Paul even made a show of it, bringing the little girl with him to the village, to exchange supplies. He told the few curious souls about how hard life in the eastern villages had become.
Martha's poor relations had far too many children to feed and asked him to care for the girl, he claimed, pretending some displeasure. And their own family so blessed this past year, he could not well refuse. The villagers politely nodded their heads. A few eyes followed the girl suspiciously. She carefully carried a share of the groceries to their cart, following closely in Paul's footsteps. Quite a few faces turned kindly upon observing the earnest expression on her pretty little face. The rest simply accepted the event as soon as they saw their village wise-woman greet Paul and pat the child approvingly on her head, apparently already aware of her arrival.
Village Nishanka was far from others, and largely self-sufficient, and thus escaped almost untroubled by the wild fears and persecutions that arose in following years elsewhere in the kingdom.