Before Aephelia knew it, a year had passed.

She had grown taller, her speech was smoother, her movements were in coordination the way her tutors demanded. She no longer hesitated before answering questions in lessons. Her handwriting had improved and her memory was near perfect; everyone said she learned faster than the others.

Even as her genius shone, she was still alone.

The mansion was large enough to house several families, with gardens that stretched past her sight and corridors long enough that could echo. In that place, surrounded by people, she might as well have been invisible.

Her cousins, especially the children near her age, were polite but distant. They would speak to her during shared lessons or formal meals, asking short questions that didn't need long answers.

Whenever lessons ended, they drifted back to their groups. They never invited her to join them when they trained, played, or went out to see the city.

She didn't blame them. She knew she was different from them.

So she learned how to live quietly.

In a mansion full of voices, she made sure hers was never the one heard. She spent more time with her tutors and the maids who rotated in and out of duty than with anyone else. The servants were always careful with their words. They addressed her as "Lady Aephelia" and bowed, but none of them stayed long enough for her to remember their faces.

At night, when the halls grew silent, she sometimes sat by the window of her room and thought about the orphanage. She missed the sound of the wind slipping through the broken roof and the warmth of the other children sleeping close to her. The bed she slept in now was far too big. She could stretch her arms out and still feel nothing but air.

Shortly after a year of her arrival, she was summoned to the patriarch's study.

It was the first time she had been called there without a tutor or a servant.

The patriarch sat behind a heavy desk, signing a document.

When she entered, he looked up.

"You've been doing well," he said. His tone was even, but there was a cadence close to approval beneath it. "Your tutors speak highly of you. You have your mother's wit."

It was the first time he had ever said something kind to her.

Aephelia lowered her head. "Thank you, Father."

He nodded once and gestured toward the books stacked to his right. "Continue studying. Our blood carries strength, but knowledge sharpens it."

She hesitated, fingers tightening against her dress. The question that had been buried in her mind for a year finally came out before she could stop it.

"Father," she said quietly, "why did you kill everyone at the orphanage?"

The scratching of his pen stopped.

The silence that followed made her chest feel heavy.

When he looked at her, his eyes were different, colder than she had ever seen them.

"Because," he said, voice calm and flat, "their existence was a stain on this family's name."

Aephelia stared, unsure if she'd heard him right.

He continued, tone unchanged. "My sister abandoned her duty. To leave her child in such a place was an insult to our bloodline. To let that place continue existing, knowing what it represented, would have invited gossip. I will not allow that."

He set the pen down and leaned back in his chair. "You are an Infernal now. Remember that the weak exist only to serve purpose. When they have none, they are erased."

The words were spoken like a lesson.

Aephelia lowered her head and curtsied. "I understand."

"Good," he said simply, already returning to his paperwork.

She turned and left the room without waiting for dismissal.

In the hallway, the air felt heavier than before. Her steps echoed faintly against the marble floor.

She didn't cry. She didn't run. She only walked back to her room, her thoughts louder than anything else.

He killed them for that reason?

She sat on her bed, staring at her hands.

They had taken her from the fire and dressed her in silk. All of it… just because her mother had abandoned her.

The following weeks passed slowly.

Aephelia continued to attend her lessons, but her focus had dulled. The books that she once read with fervor were now unopened on her desk. Her meals went half-touched, sometimes untouched altogether. The servants noticed, but they said nothing, and only replaced the plates as if the untouched food wasn't there.

During classes, she answered questions later than usual, often needing to be asked twice. Her tutor's pen would tap against the table every time she hesitated.

The taps echoed in her head longer than the words themselves.

In the hallways, she began to notice something else.

Fragments of talk that made her pause.

Two servants speaking by the staircase. "You know Milady hadn't really b—"

The rest was lost when they noticed her passing. Both of them straightened quickly, and bowed as she passed.

Later, outside the study hall— "…doesn't fit in…"

She couldn't tell who said it or what came before it.

Another time, while walking to the library, she passed a pair of her cousins. Their voices dropped the moment she came near, but not before she caught, "…a year, and still not one friend…"

She didn't know if those words were about her. But it felt like they were.

Her world became more suffocating.

Each day looked the same as the last. She rarely looked out her window anymore. Even when the sunlight reached her desk, she barely noticed it.

Then, one morning, she failed her arithmetic test.

The tutor's tone was sharp, "This is unacceptable, Lady Aephelia. You know the material. You have demonstrated ability far beyond this level. There is no excuse for this result."

She didn't argue. She just stood there, hands folded in front of her, nodding at every sentence.

"Do better," the tutor said, and dismissed her.

When the lesson ended, Aephelia didn't go back to her room.

She walked instead.

At first, it was meant to be a short walk, just to clear her head before dinner. But her feet didn't stop. The longer she walked, the more she wanted to keep going.

The estate grounds stretched far beyond what she usually saw. The main courtyard gave way to smaller paths and unused side gardens. She passed the training fields, then a small pond. She walked until there was no longer any sound behind her.

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The path curved uphill, where the trimmed hedges grew taller and thicker. Beyond them stood what looked like another garden, walled off by a thick tapestry of vines and weeds.

It was quiet.

There were no gardeners, no guards, no servants. The grass was uneven, and the hedges had grown wild.

Aephelia hesitated at the entrance.

She had never seen this place before. But of course that was the case; she hadn't really explored the estate before.

Curiosity nudged her forward.

The hedges formed narrow passages that twisted in sharp turns. Some paths ended in stone benches covered with moss; others led to open spaces where broken fountains sat half-buried in weeds.

There was no sound except for the faint rustle of wind and the soft crunch of her shoes on gravel and soil. It was peaceful in a way the rest of the mansion wasn't.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe.

She wandered deeper.

Minutes turned into an hour without her noticing. The sun had moved lower in the sky, and the shadows around her were growing long.

She tried to retrace her steps but couldn't remember which turn she had taken first. The hedges all looked the same.

When she reached another dead end, she stopped.

She turned back, certain she could find the main path again, but the more she walked, the more she became uncertain. Every direction felt familiar and wrong at the same time.

She realized, finally, that she was lost.

Aephelia sat down on the ground.

Her legs felt weak, and her throat was tight from holding back tears for too long. The garden was quiet except for the wind shifting through the tall hedges.

She pulled her knees close and buried her face into them. For the first time in a year, she cried.

It started as small gasps, quiet at first, then louder. Before long, she was sobbing like a child who had been trying to act older than she really was.

"Hhk… hhuh… hhkk…" Her breath came out in uneven bursts.

Her shoulders shook. Her breath caught between hiccups. The sound of her crying filled the empty space of the garden.

Everything that had built up inside her came crashing out—every lesson, every expectation, every stare, and the memory of fire that never really left her. The loneliness of the mansion, the coldness of her new family, the weight of her father's words—all of it pressed on her chest until she couldn't breathe.

"Hhuh… Hhkkk… Hhk… Wahh…" She tried to breathe but ended up gasping again, voice cracking every few seconds.

She didn't know how long she cried. When she tried to stop, another wave came. It felt endless.

Then, something wet brushed against her cheek.

Aephelia froze.

The touch was quick, a rough, cold lick. She blinked, confused, and turned her head slightly, thinking it might've been her imagination.

Another lick.

Startled, she jerked back, losing her balance and falling onto the soft patch of grass behind her.

Her hand sank into something fleshy and thick. She twisted around, and her eyes went wide.

A beast loomed over her.

It was massive, easily twice her height when standing on all fours. Its fur was pitch black and coarse. Two long tusks curved from the sides of its mouth, glinting faintly under the dim light.

The creature's face looked both ridiculous and terrifying.

Its muzzle was broad and flat, pushed inward in a permanent scowl. Its nose was large and wrinkled, twitching with each breath. Its eyes, if they could be called that, were wide and slightly misaligned, looking in two different directions as if unsure where to focus.

One eye seemed to be studying her, while the other might've been watching the sky.

Drool dripped from the corner of its mouth, landing near her shoe with a wet plop. Its breath smelled faintly of damp fur.

Aephelia's heart stopped.

'A beast?' she thought, frozen. 'A-am I going to die?

Her hands trembled. The beast's head tilted slightly, one ear twitching. It exhaled, the sound more like a snort.

She closed her eyes.

If this was how she was going to die, then so be it. At least it would be quick. Maybe she'd finally stop feeling so heavy. She waited for the teeth or the claws or whatever beasts used to end things.

But instead, she felt another wet, heavy lick across her forehead. Then another.

She flinched, opening one eye in disbelief.

The beast wasn't attacking her. It was… sniffing her?

A small noise followed, tiny footsteps against grass. Something soft landed on her lap. Then another. She blinked and found herself staring at three much smaller creatures, each one a miniature version of the giant before her.

They were plump, round-bodied things, covered in the same black fur but with shorter tusks that barely poked past their lips. One of them sneezed, making a squeaky sound. Another tried to climb her arm and failed, tumbling backward onto its back.

Aephelia stared, confused but unable to stop the small laugh that escaped her throat. It came out cracked and uneven from all the crying.

She reached out slowly and touched one of them. Its fur was softer than it looked, and it made a small grumbling sound before nudging its head against her palm. The others followed, pressing against her fingers with surprising warmth.

The big one watched silently. It just stood there, staring down at her and the little ones with an expression that could almost be called tired.

For a long time, neither moved.

Aephelia sat there, surrounded by the strange little beasts, her tears drying on her cheeks. The air was still cool, but the warmth against her hands felt real.

She didn't know what this thing was, or why it was here, but for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel alone.

The giant beast snorted again, turned its head slightly, still looking in two directions, and watched as the last light of the sun disappeared behind the hedges.

For a long while, it simply stared at her, one eye focused on her face, the other wandering slightly upward. Then, it opened its mouth.

"Awawowah… grr… awoooa?"

The noise was strange, a half growl and half mumble. Its voice rumbled from deep in its throat, wobbling between sounds that almost, almost resembled words.

The little ones yipped in reply, their short tails wagging furiously.

The beast turned and started padding in a direction between the hedges. Its paws were large enough to flatten the grass in its path, leaving faint trails where it stepped.

Aephelia didn't move at first. She just stared, unsure if she had imagined it speaking. But then she felt a tug on her sleeve.

One of the small cubs was biting lightly at her cuff, pulling with tiny grunts. Another pushed against her ankle with its head, trying to nudge her forward.

She blinked, still dazed. "…You want me to come with you?" she whispered.

"Aroooo," one of them howl-barked softly, as if answering.

The big one looked over its shoulder and gave another deep "Awoawaowow," before continuing ahead.

It was so absurd that she almost laughed again. Still, she followed.

The cubs stayed close, weaving around her steps and occasionally tripping over each other. Every now and then, the big beast would stop, glance back to make sure she was still there, and give another gruff "Woahh… awoaah…" as if impatient.

The maze didn't seem as confusing anymore. Somehow, the beast seemed to know exactly where to go.

Finally, after several minutes, the hedges opened up into a wide clearing. The air was cooler here, and ahead of her, she could see an open archway, an exit leading back toward the main estate.

The beast stopped at the edge of the clearing and sat down heavily, its tail curling around its paws. The three cubs ran in circles around its legs before sitting as well, looking up at Aephelia expectantly.

The large creature tilted its head again. "Awoo… woah?"

It sounded like a question.

Aephelia took a hesitant step forward. Through the archway, she could already see a small gravel path that led straight back toward the mansion. The faint glow of torches flickered in the distance.

The beast took a breath, deep and low, almost like a sigh.

"You're… telling me to go?" she asked quietly.

The big creature gave one last grunt, something between a snort and a nod. Then, it turned its head slightly, as if satisfied.

Aephelia stepped onto the path.

When she turned to look back and thank them, the clearing was empty.

The surroundings were silent again, as though nothing had been there at all.

She stared for a moment longer, unsure if it had all been real.

Then she started walking.

The sky was nearly black now, and the mansion's torches were clearer with every step. By the time she reached the main courtyard, a maid had already spotted her from the balcony.

"Lady Aephelia!"

Voices followed. Two servants hurried toward her, their expressions full of concern. They guided her back inside, fussing over her dirt-stained dress and tangled hair.

"Your shoes… oh, you must have been outside for hours."

She didn't answer. She just nodded when they spoke, letting them lead her to her room.

A warm bath was drawn. The water stung her scraped hands and knees, but she didn't complain. When they dressed her for the family dinner, she kept quiet and stared at the floor.

Throughout the meal, she barely tasted anything. The words around her: about politics, trade, and family affairs, blurred into background noise.

Her mind was somewhere else.

That creature. The big black beast.

After dinner, she excused herself and went straight to the library. The room smelled of old parchment and candle wax. She pulled book after book from the shelves, searching through indexes and faded illustrations.

Finally, she found it.

A sketch of the same broad flat face, those long tusks, and the droopy eyes that looked in opposite directions. The text beside it read:

—Gromstel: a demonic beast known for its strength and intelligence. Fiercely protective of its kin, it values family above all else. There are recorded accounts of a Gromstel chasing a man across the continent after he injured one of its young.

Her eyes moved further down the page.

The Gromstel's heart is a prized alchemical ingredient. When refined, it can forcefully awaken or enhance existing abilities. Because of this, they were hunted to extinction.

She closed the book slowly.

Even in a world that demanded strength, there were still creatures that valued something more.

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