Julieâs eyes softened as she began, her voice calm but carrying the weight of long-kept memories.
"Skadi...sheâs not from some big fancy place, you know. She actually came from a small town, just outside the Holyfield Estate."
"It wasnât anything grand or important. Just a quiet, peaceful little place nestled away from the rest of the world. Mostly demi-humans lived there, people like her. They werenât hurting anyone. They lived simple lives. Joyful ones. Tight-knit."
"I remember when I visited, the air even felt different. Like it hadnât been touched by the filth of the world yet."
Her expression dimmed, and she sighed.
"But it didnât last. One day, bandits came. I donât know if they stumbled upon it by accident or if someone told them about it, but they descended on that village like vultures. And they werenât just after supplies."
"No...demi-humans were far more valuable in the slave market than normal humans. Stronger bodies, unique features. Rare. Exotic. All the usual sick reasons."
Julie paused, folding her arms and biting her lips as she recalled the past.
"So they plundered the place. Slaughtered half the villagers without hesitation. Burned homes. Stomped over lives like they were nothing...And the rest?"
"The rest they bound up like cattle, planning to sell them off later, probably after breaking them down a little first. I still remember the sight...it made my fatherâs old war stories seem like childrenâs fables."
Cassius remained silent, watching her with steady attentiveness.
"I wasnât even supposed to be there." She went on. "Iâd been on a scouting mission nearby. Checking a potential hideout along the ridge. Thatâs when I heard the commotion."
"At first, I thought it was nothing, maybe a scuffle between drunks or something minor. But then I heard the screams."
"Gods, those screams...I ran. As fast as I could. I got there just in time to stop the final wave."
"I managed to take out the rest of the bandits and secure the area. But by then...the damage was already done."
Her tone dropped, and she lowered her gaze.
"Thatâs when I saw her. Skadi. A tiny little thing. Maybe no older than ten. She was standing in front of her younger siblings, holding this ridiculously large dagger, her hands covered in blood, her body shaking."
"And around her...six dead bandits. Six. I donât even know how she did it. She was barely clinging on. You could see it, her knees buckling, her eyes cloudy from fatigue."
"But she stood there, ready to die if it meant keeping her siblings safe. And just as she was about to collapse from exhaustion, I caught her. Literally. I caught her in my arms before she fell."
Julie gave a small, nostalgic smile.
"From that day forward, she stuck to me like a shadow. Kept saying she wanted to be like me. That she wanted to protect people. That she wanted to be strong."
"She called me her big sister, even though I never agreed to it. And Iâll admit, at first, I tried to shake her off. I mean, I was barely older than her myself. I still had my own messes to deal with. The last thing I needed was a child tagging along."
She let out a soft chuckle.
"But she was stubborn. Every road I took, she followed. Every time I tried to disappear, she somehow found me. Like a little lost puppy with a ridiculous amount of willpower."
"...Eventually, I gave up. Took her in. Trained her. She grew up faster than anyone Iâve ever seen."
Cassius grinned. "Took her in? Please. It sounds more like she forced herself on you."
Julie laughed, nodding. "Youâre not wrong. I didnât take her in so much as she just decided she wasnât leaving. And honestly? Iâm glad she did."
Cassius looked over at Skadi, who was currently bickering with Aisha over whether they should disember the bandits and slash their guts. Then his gaze returned to Julie as she continued.
"Aisha, though...sheâs a different story. She didnât come from a village. Didnât have one. No family. Nothing like Skadiâs past."
"She was abandoned. Left alone in a shack by her parents when she was still just a baby. She was them given away. Passed on, like she was some unwanted burden no one knew what to do with. One house to another, until she ended up in an orphanage."
Cassiusâs expression turned thoughtful as he shifted his gaze to Aisha, now half-shouting at Skadi about wanting to crush them to their death.
Julieâs voice quieted a little. "She spent her entire childhood there. Among dozens of other kids, all just...surviving. No parents. No siblings. Just other orphans."
"She practically grew up raising children that werenât hers. And when you do that, when you spend so much time holding crying kids and helping them fall asleep, you start to care. A lot. She always had a soft spot for children."
Then Julieâs voice sharpened.
"And she hates bandits more than anyone Iâve ever met...You know why?"
"Because those bastards are the reason kids end up in places like that. They slaughter the parents, kidnap the children, toss the ones they canât sell into the gutter."
"And that makes her blood boil. She doesnât say it out loud, but I can see it. Every time we go against bandits, sheâs the most vicious among us."
Cassius let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at both of them again.
"Theyâve had hard lives." He muttered. "Really hard."
Julie nodded slowly.
"But theyâve grown." He added, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Most people would be broken after something like that...But not them."
"Theyâre not just surviving, theyâre bloodthirsty now. And in this world, I think thatâs better than cowering in fear. At least theyâre not running away."
Julie raised an eyebrow. "Bloodthirsty isnât exactly the trait you want to praise."
"Maybe not." Cassius said, leaning back slightly. "But it sure beats being afraid of bandits your whole life."
Julie smirked. "Canât argue with that."
Cassius turned toward Julie with a sideways glance and a grin tugging at his lips.
"That still doesnât mean those two need to argue over who gets to kill who." He said, gesturing lazily toward the distant caravan with smoke beginning to rise. "Because at this rate, that caravanâs going to get massacred while youâre still bickering."
Julie rolled her eyes. "Talk to them, not me."
"Alright then." He muttered, fishing a coin out from his pocket and holding it up with a flick of his fingers. "Enough, you two. If you keep going like this, youâll have no one left to save. So Iâll make the decision, or rather..." He said, pausing as he balanced the coin on his thumb. "...the coin will. Heads or tails?"
"Heads!" Aisha called immediately, pointing a finger at Skadi like she was declaring war. "Thatâs where the brain is, something Skadi doesnât have."
"Oh please." Skadi huffed, spinning around with a little hop and flashing her thick, fluffy tail at them. "Then tails for me, Master." She beamed sweetly. "Because unlike Aisha, I actually have a fluffy tail. Not some slim little noodle no one wants to pet."
Aisha scoffed. "Fluff doesnât win fights."
"But it does win hearts." Skadi sang.
Cassius smiled and flipped the coin high into the air. It spun quickly, catching glints of sunlight as they all watched in silence. Then with a swift motion, he caught it and slapped it onto the back of his hand.
He peeked beneath his fingers, then looked up at them both.
"Heads." He announced, smirking. "Aisha, looks like youâre up."
"Yes!" Aisha pumped a fist and strode forward with fire in her eyes. "Iâll take care of those bastards myself."
Meanwhile, Skadi gave an exaggerated gasp of defeat, holding her chest like sheâd just been betrayed.
"A tragic loss...my poor, poor tail..."
Cassius chuckled and nudged his horse forward, riding alongside her and reaching out to gently ruffle her hair.
"Youâll get your turn. Donât pout."
Up ahead, Aisha didnât even look back. She was already moving toward the direction of the attack, her eyes narrowed and her posture stiff with resolve.
"You need backup?" Cassius called after her.
She shook her head without hesitation.
"Not at all." She said calmly, cracking her knuckles. "I want every last one of them for myself."
Her voice was quiet but laced with venom, and when she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes were locked onto the smoke in the distance.
"For every child theyâve ever orphaned." She said. "Iâll make sure they donât leave that road in one piece."
Then she turned and started walking, calm and composed, like death itself was walking beside her...