We stay behind not because we choose, but because the world still has a place for us, even when it's broken.
Alex and Rolo were left alone in the kitchen. Rolo was lazily caressing the grey abomination
Alex and Rolo were left alone in the kitchen. Rolo, in his usual lazy manner, was absently stroking the grey monstrosity sitting on his lap. (Alex had begged Hajnal to part with the cursed cat after the move, and she had reluctantly agreed, murmuring a few soft words as she handed the creature over.)
After a long silence, Alex, clearly fed up, broke it. "What do you want?"
The tension in Rolo's posture was palpable, and his voice was laced with doubt.
"I'd almost forgotten how good a wolf's nose is..." Rolo remarked, his tone as casual as ever.
Alex shrugged. "Well?"
Rolo shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Do you trust that bastard?"
The sharpness in Rolo's voice was unmistakable, but Alex wasn't surprised by the question. He was used to the boy's abrasive attitude by now.
"Who knows when he might slit Shay's throat while he's asleep," Rolo muttered. "He's our enemy, Alex."
Alex's shoulders relaxed as he leaned back, unfazed. "I don't think he'd try something like that."
Rolo's jaw clenched, teeth grinding. "You're seriously this naïve?"
Alex didn't respond immediately. He was used to Rolo's outbursts. But the boy wasn't finished.
"How can you trust him?" Rolo demanded, his voice rising.
Alex met his eyes calmly. "Just like I trusted you when we first met." His gaze softened. "And besides, I can smell murderous intent from a mile away."
Rolo scoffed, though a hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "Maybe he's just hiding it well."
Alex didn't bite. He simply said, "Don't underestimate Shay. Even if things go bad, he can defend himself."
Rolo's lips pressed into a thin line. He was clearly frustrated, but Alex's words seemed to leave him with nothing to argue.
Alex's tone shifted, almost casually. "But that's not really what's bothering you, is it? You're just jealous."
Some people have an exceptional ability to distinguish between the time to speak and the time to remain silent. Alex was certainly not one of those people.
Rolo shot him a venomous glare, the kind that would've sent most people running for cover. But Alex didn't flinch.
Then the door opened. I had managed to slip in, just in time to prevent the two shifters from tearing the place apart.
Despite overhearing the argument, I still asked what had happened. Alex merely shook his head, not offering an answer, and returned to washing the dishes, his movements mechanical.
I told Ábel to put the things on the table, and he immediately obeyed, carrying out the task without hesitation. As he approached, Alex paused for a brief moment, his eyes flicking toward Ábel with a look I couldn't quite place.
But at the time, I didn't think much of it.
After Ábel finished helping Alex unpack the bags, he seemed a bit lost. I leaned back against the wall, my eyes narrowing slightly.
I let out a long sigh. There were things I needed to know, things that had been nagging at me for a while now. Pushing away from the wall, and made my way to the living room. There was no point in dragging this out.
"Ábel," I called as I crossed the threshold into the living room. "Come here."
Ábel, completely unsuspecting, bounced into the room with his usual energy, a grin spreading across his face. He stopped in front of me, eyes wide with curiosity. "What's up, Shay?"
There was something about Ábel's venom that had been bothering me for a while now. I couldn't quite explain it, but I had to know.
"I need to see it," I said, the words coming out flat, no room for negotiation. "Your fangs. And I'd like some of your venom."
Ábel froze for a moment, his expression flickering with uncertainty. I could tell he wasn't expecting this request, but there was no hesitation in his movements when he finally nodded.
"You want my venom?" he asked, a rough edge to his voice. "Alright."
Slowly, he parted his lips, his human teeth briefly visible before the change started. I took a step closer, watching closely as the holes became visible—those characteristic marks of a vampire. His fangs began to slide out. I could see the way his jaw shifted to make room for something sharper, more dangerous.
Ábel's fangs gleamed in the dim light, the deadly tools of a predator now fully revealed.
"Interesting," I murmured, stepping forward.
Ábel didn't flinch. He looked at me, his eyes steady, though I could tell he was tense. I didn't hesitate. I reached for the vial I had prepared earlier, its glass cold in my hand as I held it steady in front of him. Ábel's gaze flickered down to the vial, then back to me.
He opened his mouth fully, allowing his fangs to extend with an almost lazy grace. His jaw stretched unnaturally wide—unnervingly wide, like a snake preparing to bite. The grotesque opening of his mouth made him appear even more monstrous, and I could almost feel the danger emanating from him.
The venom began to drip slowly, like dark liquid gold, from the sharp points of his fangs. It wasn't immediate, but the venom seeped steadily, its viscous nature forming small droplets before they dripped into the vial below.
"That's it," I murmured, my eyes fixed on the fluid gathering in the glass. The faint, acrid scent filled the air—sharp, dangerous, unmistakably lethal. "Good."
His jaw was tight, his eyes locked onto mine, watching me with an intensity that mirrored my own. Despite his calm exterior, I could tell there was tension in his posture, in the way his hands curled slightly, as if he was restraining himself.
I watched the last of the venom drip into the vial, sealing it tightly once it was full. It didn't take long for him to close his mouth, the grotesque stretch receding as his fangs retracted back to their hidden state.
"You're not afraid of me?" he asked, his voice low.
"No," I said simply, my voice calm, steady. The truth was, I wasn't. "My healing ability can counter toxins."
Even if something went wrong, I was confident I'd recover.
Ábel's eyes softened at my words, the tension in his posture easing. A wide grin spread across his face.
"Really? You're not scared?" he asked, his voice almost bubbling with excitement. "Well, that's a relief!"
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, kid," I said, my voice steady but laced with amusement. "I'm far stronger than you. I could snap your neck before you even get a chance to use those fangs of yours."
"You know," he began, his tone light but tinged with pride, "I've taken down enemies stronger than me using my venom." He paused, studying my reaction. "But," he added, his voice softening just a bit, "I'm really relieved that my venom wouldn't be effective on you."
I couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping. He had no idea. It would be effective. The venom wouldn't be fatal, no. But the pain... it would be excruciating.
Ábel seemed genuinely happy. His eyes gleamed with admiration, "You are really the strongest."
I smirked, the corner of my lips twitching upward as I gave him a knowing look. "Of course," I said, the words sliding off my tongue with an air of smug satisfaction.
(...)
"Hey, Lutist," I called out to the guy.
Rickey sighed deeply and counterattacked. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
I shot him a sharp look, but he didn't flinch. I couldn't decide if he was being brave or just incredibly foolish. Either way, that wasn't the burning question on my mind.
"Where is Luna?"
Rickey led me toward the clearing where their unsightly caravans were parked, not far off. Naturally, at some point, the gypsies had grown bored of city life and retreated to a plot of land near the woods.
There were rumors circulating that they were starting a new business. When we got close, Rickey extended his hand as if to say he'd accompany me no further. Even in such a polite gesture, there was enough arrogance to make me purse my lips.
"Here our way part, Your Majesty," he added, with a flourish.
"I'll have your head for this," I growled, but Rickey's grin only widened.
With that, the lutist hummed a carefree tune and wandered off. I rounded a few more trees and finally spotted Luna. I stood back for several moments, simply watching her as she gently picked mushrooms. Was this how all mages moved through the forest? With such grace, almost as if they were dancing, singing to the woods, gliding through the trees with reverence?
Eventually, I approached her.
"Hello, Shay," she greeted me, her mischievous eyes sparkling. It was clear she had known I'd been lurking nearby for a while.
It wasn't as though she was trying to hide it from me.
"Hi," I said, pulling out a vial.
Luna's azure eyes widened in shock as she eyed the black liquid inside.
"Where did you get this?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I freed the boy."
Her surprise deepened—whether it was because of my words or the feelings behind them, I couldn't tell. Her lips curled into a slight smile as she took the offered vial.
"I'm sure you'll find it useful," I said.
She nodded in acknowledgment.
"So, I hear you're starting a new business," I changed the subject.
"Yes," Luna replied, "I plan to stay here and send small teams to gather the goods we need."
"Hm." I paused, curious. "I didn't think you'd ever settle down."
"Me neither," she said, flashing a mischievous smile. "But it's a refreshing change to finally have a place to call home."
The shabby house they were restoring could use a lot of work, and the gypsies were living in their caravans for the time being. Most of their days were spent fixing the house, but perhaps for the first time in decades, they were settling somewhere. For the first time in ages, they felt they could build a home.
"I see," I said, watching her gather the mushrooms with care.
Of course, once Luna had finished, she insisted I stay for lunch. Without a word, the gypsies led me to the best seat, right next to her.
This silly, lovely bunch acted so differently toward me than I was used to. They approached me with utmost respect, offering me everything first, yet there were no rigid formalities. Instead, they cheered me up with friendly chatter and warm smiles.
Despite their boisterous nature, there was something deeply appealing about them—so I didn't really resent them even when they made me stay longer than necessary. They always made me feel welcome. Perhaps it was because their jokes, their words, and their energy were all genuine—no deceit, just an earnest desire to be in my company, if only for Luna's sake.
I found myself sitting with Luna, a warm fire crackling between us. Her mischievous grin had softened into a more contemplative smile.
"So," she started casually, her voice tinged with curiosity, "What about that boy? The one with the irregular venom. Is he really... your little brother now?"
I raised an eyebrow at her. Luna wasn't one for subtlety, and her question caught me off guard, though I quickly masked my surprise.
"Little brother?" I repeated with a smirk. "I wouldn't go that far. But yeah, he's... someone I feel responsible for."
Luna tilted her head, clearly amused by my nonchalant response. "Hmm," she mused, "I don't know, Shay. You seem a little too fond of him for someone you're just looking out for."
I hesitated. "Maybe," I admitted quietly. "But... he reminds me of someone. And besides, there's something about him that... I don't know, makes me want to protect him. Even if it's complicated."
Luna nodded, as though she understood perfectly. There was a certain depth to her gaze, one that suggested she knew more than she let on. "I can see that," she said softly. "It's strange, though. The boy with the venom... I never thought I'd see the day when you'd take someone like him under your wing."
I watched the fire crackle between us, the flames dancing in a way that seemed almost hypnotic.
"I punished him," I said quietly, my voice taking on a heavier tone. "For what he did to Alice."
Luna's eyes softened, the usual playfulness fading from her expression. She didn't ask for specifics, but I could see the understanding in her gaze. She knew the weight of those words. She leaned back slightly, her fingers absentmindedly twirling the edge of her cup. The firelight flickered across her face, casting a warm glow on her features.
"I think," she said slowly, her voice quiet but carrying a weight of wisdom, "it's okay to forgive someone."
"I trust that you're able to see their true nature, Shay," she continued, her eyes steady, searching mine for something.
Her words left a lingering warmth in the air, a reminder that even in the toughest of situations, there could be room for something beyond vengeance. It wasn't forgiveness for the sake of weakness—it was a choice, one I made for myself.
I smiled, the corners of my lips curling in a way that felt a little more genuine than I expected.
"I saw who he was," I said quietly, my voice taking on a more thoughtful tone. "Even before we first met. The boy... Ábel, I saw how much he cared for Jo. That's the real Ábel."
Luna raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening as she listened intently. "You've known all along, haven't you?"
I nodded slowly. "I don't trust people easily, Luna."
Luna nodded, her eyes thoughtful. "Sometimes, the ones who care the most are the ones who seem the least capable of it. I trust your judgment, Shay."
The weight of the conversation hung in the air for a moment, but Luna's sudden shift in energy broke the tension like a splash of cold water. She smiled mischievously and stood up, wiping her hands on her apron as if to announce that the serious talk was over.
"Well," she said, her voice lighter now, "you might as well take some of these with you."
She disappeared into the caravan and returned moments later with a small plate of cookies, warm and fresh, their scent drifting toward me. She placed the plate in front of me, the sugary aroma filling the room. "For Ábel," she added with a wink.
I chuckled, the playful shift in her mood rubbing off on me. "You really think he'll appreciate these more than my company?" I asked, teasing her gently.
"Oh, definitely," Luna replied, her smile widening. "But don't worry, I'm sure he'll appreciate both."
(...)
I arrived home, the scent of fresh cookies still clinging to my clothes. Ábel was sprawled out on the couch, his usual carefree demeanor in place as he fiddled with something in his hands. I didn't say anything at first—just placed the plate of cookies down beside him, watching as his eyes flicked to the treat.
"What's this?" he asked, his tone curious, but his smile already starting to form at the sight of the small plate.
"From one of my friends," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "Especially for you."
Ábel paused, his gaze lingering on the cookies. His expression softened, and I could see the gratitude in his eyes before he picked one up, taking a big bite. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he chewed, clearly savoring the flavor, and a soft sigh escaped him.
"This is... this is really good," he said, his voice tight. "So... they're all like this? All your friends?"
I watched him, a little amused, as he munched away. He devoured the cookie in no time, then grabbed another with the same excited fervor.
"You're sure they made these just for me? They're perfect! I mean, look at this!" He waved the half-eaten cookie around in the air like it was the holy grail. "I'm going to protect them. I swear it! They've got a special place in my heart now."
"I'll protect them all, Shay," he added, this time with more earnestness than usual. "Your friends—they're really good people."
He finished the cookie, licking his fingers with exaggerated delight, then beamed up at me.
I watched Ábel, still grinning over his cookie, and decided to shift the mood. "So, what were you doing before I came in?" I asked, leaning back against the wall casually.
Ábel's face lit up again, though this time with a hint of excitement mixed with something else—uncertainty, maybe. He tapped the cover of a book on the coffee table in front of him, an old, worn thing that looked like it had seen better days. "Oh, Alex gave me this! I'm trying to decode it," he said, his voice bright with enthusiasm.
I raised an eyebrow. "Decoding it?"
Ábel looked down at the book and flipped it open, then frowned. "Well..."
I moved closer, glancing at the pages. They were ordinary letters and ordinary words. Decoding?
"Ábel," I started, my voice softer than usual, "can you not read?"
His eyes darted up to mine, wide with surprise. He stared at me for a long moment before he slowly shook his head. "I mean... no, not really," he admitted, his voice small now, and for the first time, there was a vulnerability in his expression that wasn't there before. "I can recognize a few words, sure. But..."
I blinked, taken aback. The realization hit me harder than I expected. Of course, Ábel had never mentioned it before.
He put the book down gently, almost reverently, before meeting my gaze again. "A murderer doesn't need to be able to read," he said, his voice softer now.
The words hung in the air, heavy and unsettling. For a moment, the room felt colder, the light dimmer. It was a stark reminder of where he came from, the life he had led before he was here. No one had taught him because, in the world he had survived, reading was a luxury, not a necessity.
"You're not just a murderer," I said firmly.
He smiled, though it was a bit sad. "Yeah, I know. But sometimes, it's hard to shake the feeling, you know? Like... like that's all I was ever supposed to be." His fingers traced the edges of the book, almost wistfully. "No one ever thought I needed anything else."
I leaned against the arm of the couch, watching him for a moment. "Well, they were wrong," I said, my tone unwavering. "You're learning now. You've got time. We can work on it together if you want."
Ábel's eyes lit up with a flicker of hope. "You'd do that?"
I nodded.
His grin returned. "Thanks, Shay. Really. I'd like that."
"Good," I replied, standing upright again. "Now, let's start by putting that book away. We'll find something easier to work with first."
That night, I decided on his first book.
Once Rolo drifted off to sleep, I grabbed a thinner book and made my way to Ábel's room. He looked up, surprised, when I announced that we were going to read, but his surprise quickly turned into excitement, his eyes lighting up with eager anticipation.
I settled beside him, opening the book and pointing out the different letters, guiding him through the basics. As I read aloud, I couldn't help but notice how he leaned in, his curiosity piqued.
Why did I choose The Little Prince? It wasn't just any book; it was the one my brother used to read to me when we were kids. It held a special place in my heart, a symbol of simpler, happier times.
Ábel watched me intently as I read, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You seem really happy when you read," he remarked, tilting his head. "Is everyone this happy when they read?"
I hit him lightly on the head.