Book 1 Epilogue

A child, no older than seven, with wide, fearful eyes the colour of deep forest green, ran through the narrow alleyways, his breath catching in ragged gasps. The cramped passages were a labyrinth of overflowing refuse bins, their stench of stale food and damp earth cloying in the humid air. Laundry lines, strung precariously between leaning buildings, hung like limp, grasping arms, threatening to tangle his small frame. His thick, earth-brown hair was dishevelled, plastered to his forehead, and his lean frame trembled with exertion, each frantic pump of his legs sending a stitch of pain through his side. Left? Right? His mind screamed, trying to pick a path, any path, that didn't lead to a dead end. In the distance, the excited yells of pursuing children echoed, sharp and cruel: "He went this way! Don't let the monster escape!" The words, familiar and terrifying, spurred him faster.

His slightly pointed ears twitching, he desperately rounded a corner, his small sandals skidding on loose gravel. A gasp escaped him. He was faced with a tall, unyielding stone wall – no escape. The rough, grey bricks seemed to mock his desperation. He pressed himself against the cold stone, heart hammering against his ribs, trying to make himself invisible. What will they do? The thought, raw and icy, twisted in his gut. He knew the stories. The cuts. The taunts. The pain. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

The pounding of his pursuers' feet stopped, replaced by the ominous crunch of gravel, growing closer. He whirled around, his eyes snapping open. A group of five children, faces contorted with malice, approached, brandishing sticks with rusty nails jutting out like crude teeth. Their eyes, wide and gleeful, promised pain.

As the group closed in, a sudden, piercing scream erupted from the back of the pack, shocking everyone into stillness. The children turned to see their companion clutching his arm, crying out in pain as unseen blows landed. The sickening crack of bone was audible in the narrow alley, followed by another child’s cry as they fell to the ground. He covered his eyes, his small body shaking uncontrollably.

After a few terrifying seconds, the sounds of struggle subsided, replaced by soft footsteps approaching him. A gentle, male voice broke through his fear, quiet and steady amidst the ringing silence. "Are you okay, friend?"

Hesitantly, he uncovered his eyes. A figure stood before him, a boy a few years older, his hand bloody and swollen, yet it was reaching out, offering in kindness. He stared at the outstretched hand, suspicion warring with a desperate sliver of hope. Was this another trick? Another way to hurt him? But the boy just waited, patient, his hand steady in the air. He took a slow, trembling breath, then, with a profound leap of faith, reached out and took the human's hand. The stranger easily lifted him to his feet. The stranger's gaze swept over his small frame, a quick, assessing look. "I don't see any injuries." He nodded shyly, his gaze darting away from the intensity of the other boy’s eyes.

The stranger laughed softly, a warm, unburdened sound. "Come on, let's get out of these alleyways." He placed a reassuring hand on Kaelen's shoulder, the touch surprisingly firm. "You don't have to worry about them anymore, my friend. I will protect you."

A small, hesitant smile touched Kaelen's lips, a flicker of genuine relief. He was safe. For the first time, he felt truly safe with a human. He yearned to tell this kind boy his name. Kaelen. To explain, they were in Hearthglow, a village hidden deep in the Mashstep Forest. He longed to share that his people, the druids, had lived in this forest for thousands of generations, long before man even came to this continent, that they were part of it. But the words caught in his throat, lost before they could ever form.

Humans... most of them, they call us 'monsters,' Kaelen thought, a familiar ache of injustice. They see our pointed ears, our different eyes, our connection to the forest, and they feel disgust. Hatred. He remembered the taunts, the stones, the way they shouted "monster" if they even glimpsed a hint of a druid's abilities. They say our very presence is a curse.

Kaelen's eyes, wide and green as the deep forest, fixed on the stranger. He had never seen kindness like this from a human before, never been looked at without disdain or fear. This human boy saw him, Kaelen, not just another druid, not just another "monster." It was like, for the first time, someone had truly noticed him.

The stranger grinned back, his smile wide and open. "By the way, my name is Motley. What's yours?"