"...you want me to do what?"
"Help me… save my sister!"
Prota had her fists clenched so hard her hands were shaking. She was looking down, her eyes squeezed shut, but despite all that, the strongest indicator of her desperation was the slight inwards tilt of her eyebrows. John's eyes widened in surprise. It was the first time he'd seen her facial expression change. Despite how little it might seem to anybody else, this was the most emotion she'd ever shown during her month or so with him.
"Please… please…"
No tears fell, but it felt as if she wanted to cry. Shaking fists, shining eyes, unstable breath—all that was missing was the crying itself.
"Your sister. Yeah, I, uh… ok, hold on. I'm not saying no or anything, but you're gonna need to tell me a little bit more than just, like, 'help me save my sister.' You're gonna need to give me more information than that."
Prota looked away, clearly troubled. What a predicament. To get what she wanted, she needed to speak up, but at the same time, her fear of speaking was just as intense as her desires.
Fortunately for her, there was a convenient solution nearby.
Zero appeared, a neutral look on his face. It was as if he were a robot. Gone was the expressive Zero, the soul who joked around, laughed heartily and smiled at everything. It was as if he and John had switched places.
"Prota. Do you want me to tell your story for you?"
"...?"
"You know what I mean, don't you? You just have to answer. Yes or no?"
Her story? What did he mean? Ah. Her past. How did John's soul, of all people, know about something like this? No, that didn't matter. This was nothing compared to all the other oddities she'd experienced. If this could help her fix her mistake, then maybe, just maybe…
Right. There was no doubt about it. She turned to Zero and nodded.
"Very well."
He turned to John. His tone was unusually serious. He seemed like a pre-recorded hologram that was meant to deliver a message and nothing more.
"John. I am going to tell you Prota's story. This is a story she would have told you eventually, but I've gone and taken the liberty of telling it for her. Remember that. I am telling it for her. This story will be told in the third person. This does not mean it is omniscient."
John nodded. "So you're telling me-"
"I'm not telling you anything. It is time to play your role as a [Reader]. The rest is up to you."
~~~
"Fire! Fire!"
Heat. A scorching, burning heat, eating away at everything it touched. But not the little girl. She remained unharmed, her pale white skin unburned. The bright flames danced in her eyes, its smoke obscuring the clear starry sky beyond.
The little girl trembled in fear, paralyzed as the sound of yelling villagers overcame the crackling of the fire. Tears poured down her eyes, soft sobs deafened by the chaos around her. A portion of the roof crashed down, and she jumped, still curled up in a fetal position, too scared to make even a single move. Voices could occasionally be heard, but they told the little girl nothing.
"What's going on?"
"Did monsters attack again?"
"We don't have any guards, what're we gonna-"
"The adventurer's guild had some assigned since the area is highly populated with dangerous mana beasts, but where are they?"
Suddenly, a loud hiss as water was splashed onto the flames. They didn't help, so large was the fire. Another crash, another cloud of soot and smoke, and the house the little girl had once been in was reduced to nothing but black ash. The fire continued to blaze on, but with no fuel to keep it going, it would die out on its own. The voices became louder, the words clearer.
"This… this is the Char household!" someone exclaimed, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Has anyone seen them?"
"Tch… why this house?"
"Has anyone seen them?"
Suddenly, through the flames, three figures burst through. One stopped midway and threw up, but the little girl couldn't tell what had caused such a reaction. The other two made their way to her, calling out for the aid of others. She slowly raised her head from her knees and saw that some kind of faint, blue light was being cast upon the man's skin. Where was the light coming from?
"Quick! Is she ok? Someone call a healer!"
Somewhere in the distance, a roar echoed through the night air, and the sound of trampling feet could soon be heard. The little girl was no more scared than she'd been before. She continued to shake, even as the man walked carefully over the ashes to help her. Someone sneezed as the dust below his feet scattered, drifting aimlessly as it floated back down.
"Hey. It's fine now, everything's fine. We're going to help you, alrigh-"
Contact. Just a touch was all it took. A flood of energy filled the little girl, coursing through her body like a raging river, filling her up until her body could hold it no longer. A bright flash blinded everyone nearby as if the sun itself had been dropped on this very location. The little girl blinked.
The man who'd come to aid her was on the floor. Had he fallen asleep?
"Wha- what the hell?!"
The villagers began to mutter. Something strange was happening. No one wanted to approach anymore.
"...did she do that?"
"What just happened?"
The little girl looked around. The flames were now completely gone, and the villagers began to form a circle around the ruined house, watching, observing. Snippets of conversation could be heard.
"Did she just kill her?"
"She's just a kid…"
"That doesn't change anything!"
"Someone get the tools! Quick!"
"Maybe it was something else?"
"Like what, genius?"
The hum of the crowd died down, and the child's quiet sniffling could now be heard. No one dared to move. No one wanted to get any closer. Suddenly, the circle opened up, and a single man stepped through. The village elder. The child recognized this man. He walked through the ashes and stopped a few feet away, sighing and leaning on his cane.
"Prota, child," he said gently.
His voice put her at ease, but then she saw his face. His eyes, alert and shifting. He was being wary of her.
"What happened?"
She didn't know. She couldn't remember. It'd been her birthday. There'd been a cake. Candles. She was about to blow out the candles, and then—
What? Just what had happened? All she remembered was a bright light, a loud sound, and then fire. Her mother, her father, her sister. Where were they? And that figure. That figure that had dashed through her home like a shadow, like a trick of the eyes.
"Mommy…" she sobbed. "Daddy… Anta…"
Suddenly, a word flashed through her mind. A creature she'd never seen, one that existed only in stories told to her.
"Demon…"
That one word seemed to evoke yet another round of chatter, but this time, it was instantly silenced as the chief pounded his cane into the ground.
"Silence! Everyone, peace, please! I will deal with this."
The crowd slowly dispersed but talked among themselves as they left, but their words were not unheard by the girl at the center of this tragedy.
"Demon?"
"Did she just say demon? Not demonic?"
"I read that long ago, there was a demonic rune some used to take other's mana…"
"Demonic?"
"Didn't she say something about a demon?
"Hey, do you think she killed her parents?"
"Maybe she's saying she's a demon."
"Demonic?"
"Demon."
"Demon."
"Demon."
The voices left, but that word had been imprinted onto Prota's soul. Was she a demon? Had she killed her parents? She didn't know. The villagers began to leave one by one, no longer interested in a potential monster, but not before Prota saw their eyes. Hateful. Angry. The eyes of those who were looking at someone who'd killed one of their own, the eyes of someone who was not a person, but a devil.
Soon, there was nobody left but the chief.
"...I need to ask you. Are you a demon?" he asked quietly.
She couldn't answer. She didn't know.
"I don't know what to take that as." He looked ancient just then. His voice was frail as he continued. "I… no, we can't keep you here anymore. It's too dangerous. For both the village and you. We will keep this incident a secret. I will help you go to the nearest large city. There, maybe, you can survive… Prota Char. I truly do wish you the best of luck."
Prota watched as some villagers came and picked something up. She couldn't tell what it was; her eyes were far too blurred by the tears to see clearly. Where were her parents? Had she really killed them? And where was her sister?
"Anta…" she muttered.
Suddenly, something caught her attention. Even through the tears, the blur of motion at the edge of her vision was enough to put her on guard. She stiffened, fear once again shooting through her body.
There. At the edge of the forest. A figure, smiling, beckoning her to come. Beside her stood a girl that looked very much like Prota. Then, without another word, it melted into the shadows.
What? What was that? Should she go? She was curious, but her body refused to listen to her. She didn't know what to do. Her family was gone. Her village had abandoned her, and she was being shipped off to some random city she knew nothing about.
It wasn't fair. This was her birthday. It was supposed to be a happy day. Just what had happened? Why? Why her, of all people?
She didn't understand. All she could do was sit in the ruins of a once happy home and cry until the tears ran dry.
~~~
Prota remembered falling asleep, only to wake up exactly where she'd been. Nobody had bothered to move her. The chief came back and guided her to a carriage. From there, her memory grew a little blurry. She vaguely remembered a bumpy carriage, but she was still in shock and hadn't checked the route they'd used to make it to Vulcan, the capital of Solaris.
As soon as she was dropped off, she was immediately stunned by the sheer noise of the city. So many people. Rows and rows of stores, streets full of stalls, people milling about, minding their own business. Nobody paid any attention to the little girl standing in the middle of the road.
Now that she was here, what was she supposed to do? She wandered around aimlessly, but eventually, the growls from her stomach weren't necessary to let her know she needed food. She almost instinctively headed home, only to remember that there was no longer a home to return to.
What now? She looked at some of the stalls, food sitting out in the open, staring at her invitingly. Her mouth began to water. Without thinking, she walked up and pointed at a skewer of meat roasting over an open flame.
"Um… can I have one? Please?" she said, standing on her toes, just barely able to poke her head above the table.
"Haha. Sure, kid. Just don't go telling anyone I give freebies, alright?" the man said, taking the stick off the grill.
Prota took it with shining eyes, drooling. She opened her mouth wide to take a bite but then remembered the manners her parents had taught her.
"Um… thank you, mister!"
"No problem, kid. Stay safe."
She devoured the meat, quickly satiated by the meal. Now what, though? She didn't know. All she did was eat, play and sleep. But now, there were no parents to feel her. No home to sleep in. And what was the point in playing when there was nothing to play with?
Eventually, the sun began to set, and the streets gradually grew clearer. The moon began to rise, the stores began to close. Soon, Prota was all alone. She'd never really been scared of the dark, but in this strange, unfamiliar place, she didn't know what to do. She desperately wanted to go home.
Once again, she couldn't help but wonder: why her?
She didn't want to sleep, but the child of a body was easily exhausted. Soon, she stumbled into an alleyway and fell asleep on her own, resting on a discarded mattress. It was dirty, but it was better than nothing.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Time flew by. Prota didn't remember most of it. All she remembered was feeling hungry, begging for food, feeling full for a moment, then feeling hungry again. Sometimes, she'd find a pillow or mattress to rest on, but some days, they'd disappear just as suddenly.
Eventually, the stall owners stopped giving her food. She didn't understand why. They'd look at her with strange looks, a look she didn't recognize at first, but she'd learn what it was eventually.
Fear. It was the look of fear.
Eventually, she also noticed that her clothes weren't holding themselves together. The white dress she'd been wearing had always been dirty, but it was beginning to fall apart. That was fine. She could just go home and—
Oh. Right.
She didn't remember when it'd happened, but she'd started digging through trash to find things. Sometimes people would drop food, and she'd take that. As a child, she knew that food on the ground was dirty, but she didn't really get why. Well, there was nobody here to tell her it wasn't clean.
But that wasn't enough. It just wasn't sustainable. Eventually, she noticed people would throw out half-eaten food in the garbage. She wasn't that desperate, at first, but soon, the call of her stomach overcame her distaste. Gingerly, she went over and picked out whatever looked edible. She hated it. It was yucky. Her body would shudder in disgust at every bite, but it was keeping her alive.
Gradually, it became bearable. Not enjoyable. Bearable. It was like a living hell.
~~~
Prota's eyes fluttered as voices grew near. She spent a good amount of time sleeping since doing anything else seemed to make her hungry far faster.
"Hey, is that right, a kid like that on the streets…?" a voice whispered. "I thought there were orphanages in this city."
She stirred under the rags she'd found to use as blankets, seeing two adventurers passing through the alleyway. They were staring at her with curious eyes. She stared back. Maybe they'd give her some food?
"Didn't you hear?" his companion whispered. "She's a demon child."
"...demon?" the boy whispered with fear.
"Yes," his companion said. "Most people avoid her. Some give her a bit of bread out of pity, but…"
A shiver of fear ran through Prota's body. Demon. That stupid word. Why did everyone call her a demon? That couldn't be what she was. There was no way. She was a human, right? And if she was a demon, she didn't want to be one. She'd much rather be anything else. Maybe an elf. They were often very pretty, and the clothes they wore were incredibly beautiful. Granted, she'd only seen images of them, but still…
"Hey," the boy said quietly, pulling a piece of bread out. Prota's head snapped up at his voice. "Here you go-"
He sounded like he wanted to finish his sentence, but he never did. Strangely, he snapped back in fear, dropping the food to the floor. Prota looked around wildly. Had some kind of monster appeared? Maybe that demon from before?
"What? Are you ok?" his companion said, running over.
Sweat poured down the boy's face as he recovered from the sudden shock.
"Did she do something to you?" she persisted.
"No… no, I don't think so. I don't know what happened, I-"
His companion ignored him.
"You! Don't touch him!" she yelled.
Prota stared at the blade pointed at her throat, trembling. Why? What had she done wrong? All this time, and she still didn't get it. Punishment was supposed to be for when you did something naughty, like breaking a plate, or not cleaning up your toys. What had she done to deserve the threat of death?
She didn't get it, but it didn't look like the sword would be withdrawn any time soon. She picked up her rags and crawled away, leaving the two adventurers to walk away.
Maybe this was all just a dream. A nightmare. She'd wake up soon, she'd go downstairs and eat breakfast, go out with her sister, and everything would go back to normal. She'd visit the village baker and maybe get a snack, go to the town square and listen to the bards, and then go home for lunch.
She desperately wished that was true. But she knew it wasn't. The pain and hunger were too real. Every day, she'd go to sleep and wake up in a hostile environment, and there would still be no home for her to return to.
She wanted to cry. But she found she couldn't. Suddenly, as she was nearing the end of the alley, she found a shattered mirror. She didn't mean to look in it, but she couldn't help it as she passed by.
What she saw inside shocked her. A dirty little girl, her white hair streaked with soot and dirt, as thin as a stick with rags barely covering her frail body. Was this her?
No, no, this had to be a bad dream. The desperate desire for this to all just be a bad nightmare grew stronger than before. She curled up, hiding her head in her knees and rocking back and forth.
~~~
The longer she spent on the streets, the more the passage of time seemed to blur. She found that she couldn't bear the pain of hope, and so the solution was to remove what hope she had left. Memories of the village. Of her family. They soon became like a distant dream. This was now the reality she had to live in.
It wasn't like she'd hit rock bottom yet. Of course not. No, it got worse. She didn't remember when it'd started, but adventurers, often drunk and dizzy, would find her and threaten her. Chase her down, forcing her to run for her life. Occasionally they'd throw rocks or hit her with sticks, but they'd all eventually give up.
All the while, she couldn't help but question it.
What had she done to deserve this?
But even that question began to fade. After a while, she just accepted that this was her fate. The world itself hated her. It was her fault that she'd been born. It was her fault that her parents had died. It was her fault that she was in this situation. That had to be it. It couldn't be anything else.
Because anything else simply wouldn't be fair. And surely, the world was a fair place.
This was soon to be confirmed.
Despite her memory generally being foggy, she still remembered this day vividly. It started like any other day. A drunk adventurer was chasing her. How was he catching up? They usually felt so slow. But this one was getting closer. Prota felt her heart thumping in her chest, fear rising up her throat as she continued to try and get away, but her weak body wasn't nearly what it had been.
"You! Demon child! For the sake of Celeste, I will slay you!" the man roared drunkenly, charging in with nothing but his fists.
Why? Couldn't he just hit her with a stick, like all the others, and then leave her alone?
"Monster! You'll die, here and now!"
Squinting her eyes, Prota lunged forward in a desperate attempt to dodge the attack and slammed into the man instead. There was a bright flash, blinding her. Her heart rose. Had someone come to help her?
As the light faded, she stared and found… no one. The man was on the ground, lying very still. Trembling, she inched closer and closer, only to realize something. The man was dead. There were no signs of wounds or anything like that. In horror, Prota stumbled backwards, panting heavily. Her eyes bulged, and she poked the man, but he wouldn't wake up. No, no. He was just asleep, right?
Suddenly, the memory of the village came rushing back. No matter how much she lied to herself, the truth would not be denied for any longer. The man was dead. And it was her fault.
Maybe she was the monster everyone said she was.
Tears refused to flow, though. Somewhere down the line, she'd lost the ability to cry. It helped, though. It let her see better. That was good, right?
She understood that staying here wasn't a good thing, though. Prota quickly made her way to another alleyway, leaving behind all the rags and food she'd managed to stockpile.
This wouldn't be the only incident. Every single time she was cornered, she'd make a desperate attempt to escape, and somehow, her pursuer would end up dead. The same thing happened every time. She'd make contact, there'd be a bright light, and she'd recover her vision only to find them dead on the ground. She didn't know what was happening. She wasn't trying to do it. It was just something that had happened.
The only solution, clearly, was to avoid contact with anybody she met.
While she still had no way of determining how many days it'd been, the seasons began to change. Summer. Fall. Winter.
And finally, spring.
One year.
The new year wasn't starting off well; two drunken men were approaching her threateningly. She wasn't sure how they'd found her, but she was tired. It was raining. It was cold. She didn't want to run, and even if she'd wanted to, she didn't have the energy to do so. All she could do was cower and tremble at their feet.
It was then that a third voice rang out. A voice very different from that of the drunken nobles in front of her.
"Hey! What's going on over there?"
She turned away, afraid to see what would come next, but nothing happened to her. There were the sounds of arguing, followed by the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh in the rain, a few grunts, and then the sound of pebbles grinding against the road, as if something were being dragged. She slowly opened her eyes to see a figure standing at the front of the alleyway, hands raised above his head. She shrunk back, afraid, but he didn't approach.
"Hey, hey, I'm harmless. I… uh… I'm not gonna hurt you, ok?"
As the man continued to mumble to himself, Prota immediately let her guard down. She didn't know why. She didn't know this man. He probably knew her, though. She was the demon. The monster of the alleys. No one came to help her anymore. Somehow, though, she could tell.
He was here to help her.
"Are you ok?" he asked, pulling down his scarf to reveal his face. "Do you have someone to take care of you?"
Prota's mind flashed back to the village, but that thought vanished quickly enough as if the rain had washed it out of her mind. There was an awkward silence before the man slung a sack off his back, pulled out a large white cloak and tossed it to the girl.
"Well, it's kinda cold, isn't it? Wrap yourself with that. I don't know if it works, but it's imbued with mana or something, some kind of temperature regulation… ah, whatever. Um. It'll help you feel a little better. Probably."
Prota hesitantly put the cloak on, and while it was a bit big for her, the man was right. A warmth she hadn't felt in months enveloped her, sending some of the chills away.
"Uh… do you have a name? Something like that? Anything I can call you?"
There was a brief pause. Something about this man seemed familiar. Something seemed like home, more so than the village she'd lived in.
After an awkward silence of the strange man standing in the rain, she opened her mouth.
"I… I'm Prota."
The man cocked his head to the side before letting out a laugh. Prota wasn't sure what was so funny, but he seemed rather amused. She found him strange. He was unlike anyone she'd ever met. She didn't know what it was, but there was something different about him. She was so confused that she didn't even notice the slight smile on her face.
The man muttered something to himself that she couldn't hear, but then he knelt and looked her in the eyes.
"Hey. Um… I'm John."