The forest was quiet again. Too quiet.
Birds had stopped singing. The usual rustling of leaves was absent, as though nature itself were holding its breath.
Elias tightened his grip on the worn wooden staff he now carried everywhere. It was more habit than anything—he wasn't a real mage, and it certainly wasn't enchanted—but it helped him feel slightly less ridiculous wandering the woods with a demon girl in tow.
Said demon girl was currently chewing on a strip of dried meat and poking a frog with a stick.
"Stop that," Elias muttered.
Rhea blinked at him, stick still pressed into the frog's back. "Why? It blinked at me first."
"That's… not how that works."
She tilted her head. "What's the appropriate human response to frog intimidation, then?"
"You walk away. Politely."
"You're so weak, Elias."
He sighed and sat down on a mossy stump, ruffling her hair as she reluctantly released the poor frog. It leapt off with an indignant croak.
They were halfway through a shared moment of awkward peace—when the air changed.
Cold. Electric.
The kind of cold that sank past the skin and made the heart clench.
Rhea froze. "Someone's here."
"Stay behind me," Elias said automatically, standing.
A figure stepped from the trees.
Cloaked in black. Hood drawn. Silent as death.
Elias's first instinct was to run. His second was to throw his stick. Neither would have helped.
The figure raised a gloved hand. "I mean no harm."
"Oh good," Elias muttered. "Because you look like harm."
Rhea stepped beside him. Not behind him. Not this time.
The figure stared for a long moment—then slowly, slowly, dropped to one knee.
"…My Queen."
Rhea's breath hitched.
"What…?"
The figure removed the hood.
He was elven. Or something close to it. Long silver hair, braided at the temple, and eyes that shimmered like mercury. A faint scar crossed one cheek. He looked ethereal and broken all at once.
"I thought you were lost forever."
Elias tensed. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't look at him. He only looked at her.
"At your side, I was called General Veylin. First Blade of the Queen's Wrath. I served you, Revantra."
Rhea took a step back.
Her expression shifted—blank, then confused, then… something deeper. Something darker.
"I don't remember you," she whispered. "I don't remember me."
"That is expected. You were shattered in the fall."
Veylin rose slowly. Reverently.
"Your magic. Your soul. You died. Or were meant to. And yet here you stand."
Rhea looked small again. Not just because she was in a child's body—but because her eyes looked scared.
"…Why are you here?"
Veylin smiled sadly. "Because your enemies will come. Because the world is not ready for your return."
Elias stepped forward, placing himself between the two.
"She's not your Queen anymore. She's just a kid."
Veylin's eyes flicked to him. Then to the protective stance. He seemed… amused.
"I see," he said softly. "You're the guardian."
"No, I'm—well. Yeah. Kind of. Look, she lives with me. Eats my food. Sets my curtains on fire. She's learning how to be human."
"You would make her weak."
Elias clenched his jaw. "I'd rather help her become kind."
A pause.
Then something strange happened.
Veylin laughed. A quiet, broken laugh. "The Queen, learning kindness. I never thought I'd see it. But…"
He looked at Rhea again.
"She's glowing differently now. Still fire—but not all-consuming."
Rhea stared at him.
"Why did you come back?" she asked, voice barely audible.
"To kneel. And to serve."
Elias rubbed his temples. "Great. Now we have a dramatic elven warrior with a worship complex. We need a bigger hut."
"Do you want me to leave?" Veylin asked Rhea directly.
Her mouth opened. Then closed.
"I…"
And then tears welled in her eyes. She turned, walking quickly into the woods.
Elias gave Veylin a look. "You really are dramatic."
"I apologize," Veylin said genuinely. "Was it something I said?"
"Yes. Everything."
Fifteen Minutes Later
He found Rhea sitting on a log, hugging her knees. A black squirrel had perched beside her, awkwardly mimicking the pose.
"I don't know him," she said when she saw Elias approach.
"That's fine."
"But something in me does."
Elias sat down beside her. "That's also fine."
"He called me Queen. And I… I felt it. For a second, I felt like I could crush the world."
Elias chuckled dryly. "Please don't."
Rhea didn't laugh.
"I'm scared."
Elias turned serious. "Of what?"
"Of me."
He wrapped his arms around her carefully. "Then I'll be scared with you."
She leaned into him, voice muffled. "What if I become her again?"
"I'll stop you."
"You're weak."
"I'll stall for time while you monologue."
She snorted.
Elias smiled. "Rhea… it doesn't matter who you were. You're not alone now. And you don't have to become her again."
"What if I want to?"
"…Then I'll annoy you until you change your mind."
She laughed. Just a little.
Then: "Do you think he's lying? That Veylin?"
Elias hesitated. "I don't think so. He looks like someone who's lost everything."
"Because of me?"
"Maybe. But he still came back to protect you."
"…That's stupid."
"Yeah."
Rhea was quiet a while.
Then, with a frown: "He's kind of pretty. Do all demon generals look like that?"
"Probably."
"…Do you think you could be a general?"
Elias blinked. "No?"
"You'd look good in armor."
"I'd trip and impale myself on my own sword."
She giggled again.
Then turned serious.
"I'm scared," she repeated. "But I don't want to run anymore."
Elias nodded. "Then we face it together."
She reached out.
And for the second time in her life, held his hand.
Not as a queen. Not as a monster.
Just as a girl.
Back at Camp
Veylin was sharpening a dagger made of obsidian.
"You came back," he said when they returned.
Rhea stepped forward. Her small hand clenched.
"Don't call me Queen."
He inclined his head. "As you wish."
"Don't kneel."
He nodded. "Then I will stand."
"…But stay."
Veylin's eyes softened.
"I will stay."
Elias exhaled slowly.
"Well, there goes normal."
Rhea glanced up at him.
"We never had normal."
He smiled. "Yeah. But I liked pretending."
Late That Night
Rhea sat on the edge of her bedroll, staring into the flames.
Veylin was on watch. Elias was snoring softly under his blanket.
She looked at her small hands.
Then at the flickering fire.
Then whispered to herself, barely audible—
"…You're still alive."
A tear slid down her cheek.
And vanished into smoke.
To be continued…