"Hey Fael," Lark called, ruffling his brother's hair. "How's your sword training coming along?"
"I can cut a melon in half now, in one strike!"
As he grew older, his admiration for Lark deepened. There was a quiet comfort in his presence–a sense of safety that never wavered.
Lark, ever the doting big brother, couldn't help but admire how clever his younger siblings were. Sometimes he wondered if they'd outsmart him one day. He cared for them deeply and swore to protect them at all times.
Lark chuckled. He patted Fael's head, "Attaboy. Keep practicing and you will become a master swordsman in no time," he said with a grin. "Big brother will always be there for you."
"Aren't you supposed to be on night patrol today?" Myne chimed in, sneaking up behind him and poking his side.
"I need to spend time with my cute little brother too, you know?" he sighed dramatically, slumping against the gazebo's pillar.
"Can't argue with that," Myne mumbled.
Fael responded with a grin.
My brother and sister are the best!
After a moment of thought, Lark got up and slung his sword over his shoulder.
"Well… better head out before Master Zuli murders me for real."
"Take me with you!"
Fael exclaimed with a glow so bright in his eyes as he stared up at Lark.
Lark chuckled. "How can I say no to that?"
He bent down, hoisted Fael onto his shoulders, and set off with a laugh—while Fael waved cheerfully at Myne, who grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
While on their way patrolling, several wonderful sights passed by.
The foggy clouds swirled around the beautiful pink hued moon. Stars flickering beyond the velvet sky and flocks of birds glided below the drifting mist. The serenity of night was accompanied by glowing lights blooming on the ground, emitted by the clusters of dewshrooms.Bush rats scurried over the forest floor as they hunted for seeds and nuts, hurriedly stashing them in their burrows in preparation for the cold months ahead.
The air was crisp and clean, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers as they approached a little pond. Around it, small animals lay resting or gently drank from the clear water.
Moonlight danced on the still surface, broken only by the ripple of a fish beneath. Fael leaned forward, his reflection gazing back with wide, curious eyes.
"It's beautiful," he whispered.
Lark smiled. "This pond's been here since before I came to the Grove. I used to come here when I felt lonely."
A bush rustled beside where Fael stood. Both of them turned—expecting danger—only to freeze at what emerged.
A group of small animals leapt out, scurrying forward in an oddly organized little line, like a miniature parade. Fael gasped in delight. Lark blinked, then burst out laughing.
"They're lining up!" he said with wide eyes. "Like a little critter army!"
Fael clapped his hands. "Look at them! Look at their faces!"
They both squealed—Lark's voice rising a little too high-pitched for a supposed swordsman. His grin stretched ear to ear.
He knelt beside Fael, pointing at each one with exaggerated flair.
"The one on the right is a bush rat—saw a bunch of them earlier. Pretty common in the forest... but come on, look at those tiny paws. So damn cute." His voice cracked near the end.
Fael giggled.
"And these two next to him?" Lark gestured to a pair of puffed-up, fluffy-tailed creatures with faint orange streaks across their bellies. "Orange-bellied squirrels. They look like a couple, don't they?"
"Yeah! They're holding tails!" Fael beamed.
Lark chuckled, then pointed to the last one on the far left. "And that one is—uh…"
He squinted.
"…Uhh…"
The words died in his throat.
The "squirrel" twitched unnaturally. Its fur was uneven, purple patches spreading along its spine. Two jagged bones protruded out from its sides like malformed wings. A gaping wound yawned open in its belly, organs glistening. Its teeth were too sharp. Far too sharp. A thick, black tongue slithered out between them, dragging against the moss.
A low, clicking snarl erupted from its throat.
Fael's smile faded.
The creature locked eyes with him.
And then—it jumped.
The creature jumped—not with the clumsy scurry of a squirrel, but with a sudden, savage lurch, bones cracking as it launched.
Straight toward Fael.
He froze.
In that instant, the world slowed.
All Fael could see were its fangs—long and stained—and that writhing tongue reaching for him. The horror struck deeper than fear.
Then—
Clank.
A clean arc of steel cut through the creature.
It fell to the ground in two halves. A foul stench burst into the air, sharp and metallic, like rotting flowers and blood as all the nearby animals fled away.
Lark stood protectively in front of Fael, sword out. His breath was heavy, but his grip was firm.
The forest was still again.
But Fael wasn't.
His lips trembled. Then his shoulders shook. And then—
He burst into tears.
His small hands clutched Lark's cloak tightly as he sobbed. Not loud cries, just trembling whimpers, like he was trying not to cry but couldn't help it.
"I-I'm sorry," Fael whispered between sobs. "I was just… I didn't know… It was…"
Lark slowly knelt and pulled Fael into his arms, sword still in hand.
"Hey, hey," he whispered gently, brushing Fael's hair. "It's okay now. You're safe."
Fael gripped him tighter, hiding his face in Lark's chest.
Lark's jaw tensed. He glanced at the remains of the creature slowly fading to black dust. The Nephis had been growing bolder lately. Even the small ones had started reaching deeper into the forest.
He exhaled through his nose.
"You're not weak for crying, Fael," he said quietly. "You were brave. You didn't run. But now you know, don't you?"
Fael looked up with teary eyes.
"There are monsters out there," Lark said, eyes serious but warm. "Real ones. And sometimes… even the cute things wear ugly skins underneath."
Fael nodded slowly.
Lark offered a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But that's why you've got me, right?"
Fael stopped crying.
He sheathed his blade and carried Fael again.
"Time to go back."
On their way back, Lark began muttering nonsense under his breath.
"So, then I told the squirrel, 'No, you're the nut!'"
Fael blinked, confused. "That's not how jokes work…"
"Oh, but wait! Did you hear about the bush rat who opened a bakery? He named it… Nut House."
"…What's a bakery?"
Lark gasped dramatically. "You don't know?! That is a shame! We must fix this. First thing tomorrow, I'm stealing Marie's mushroom bread and declaring you a true citizen of the pastry world."
Fael let out a giggle.
With every step, his silly voices and over-the-top impressions continued. It felt like this is not the first time he had done this.
By the time they saw the first lanterns of the Grove glowing in the distance, Fael's earlier sobs had melted into a stream of laughter.
Lark ruffled his hair again.
"There. Much better. You're not allowed to go to sleep scared, okay?"
Fael nodded, smiling up at him.
But just before they reached the gazebo, Fael tugged gently at Lark's sleeve.
"I was really scared back there… but you weren't. You knew what to do."
Lark looked down at him, expression softening.
"Were you ever scared?" Fael asked.
They sat under the Gazebo as Lark sighs and looks to the ceiling. Fael's head resting on Lark's knees.
"Yes," He whispered.
"I was an orphan before being adopted by Mother Sevah. I do not remember my real Mother's voice or face. The Orphanage told me that she died giving birth to me."
Fael shuffled closer and looked down silently.
"I made a lot of good memories in that Orphanage. I had a lot more siblings there. Even a blood-related older sister. She never blamed me as the cause of Mother's death. She was my mentor and taught me everything about outside world and a little about the sword. Although it's a shame that my memory is fragmented and I can't recall any of the Orphans or my sister's voice or face."
He then gently smiled and whispered.
"Then 12 years ago, a Nephis outbreak caused the orphanage to fall. Everyone was confused and scared, while the elders were trying their best to fend Nephis off. You bet I was scared a lot at that time, more than anyone else. I stood still trembling with fear, my sword won't move, and I fainted at the spot. I don't even know what happened to the other orphans and my sister. The next thing I knew was that I was not at the orphanage anymore, but shivering and hungry left at an old, ruined shrine."
"That's when Mother Sevah found me," Lark continued, voice soft now. "She didn't ask questions. She didn't tell me to be strong. She just… carried me. She wrapped me in her cloak and spoke.
''You're safe now. No more running.''
He looked down at Fael and smiled again—this time more genuine.
"That's why I train so hard. Can't afford to faint when trying to protect you."
Fael's hand tightened around his.
"Do you not miss them?"
Lark tapped his chest.
"Right here, all the important stuff stays."
Just behind the Gazebo was Myne, gently sat upon the moss carpets, caressing a lavender as her eyes were closed with a faint smile on her face, listening on their conversation.
There was a moment of sweet silence among them.
Then Lark stood up and grinned.
"Now come on, brave warrior. Time to sneak some of Marie's bread."