Elena moved through the forest, choking back sobs.

  Ever since she heard John planned to send her away, and heard that red-haired, pointed-eared young man bristle at her demon blood, despair and rage had swallowed her whole.

  In a burst of reckless emotion, she ran farther than she ever had, straight into a part of the forest she had never dared enter.

  The woods at night scared her. She wanted to turn back, but she couldn’t bring herself to face John again.

  The villagers hated her, and John was already so old. Maybe she really shouldn’t stay there anymore.

  But that didn’t mean she wanted to travel with that red-haired man. She hated the way he flinched at her demon blood like it was something filthy.

  To her, he was just like the rest of them, always shoving every wrong in the world onto her shoulders, then calling her a “cursed child” to make themselves feel justified.

  The white-haired elf woman didn’t bother Elena as much.

  She barely spoke, and she never looked at Elena with disgust.

  Still, Elena’s feelings about her were complicated.

  Part of Elena wanted to get closer, because the woman carried this calm, natural presence that felt strangely safe.

  Another part of Elena was terrified, a fear that rose straight from her blood, like an instinct.

  Elena guessed it was the demon side of her, reacting to the power of nature the way demons naturally did.

  Drawn to nature, afraid of nature.

  Once again, Elena felt like she was made of contradictions, like she never should have been born at all.

  Elena didn’t remember her parents.

  As far back as she could remember, she had been alone.

  She only survived because the creatures in the forest feared her and kept their distance, which left her to scrape by on whatever fruit she could find.

  Then she met John.

  Even the name Elena had been given by John.

  John taught her so many things, language, history, how to survive, and the strange power inside her.

  To be honest, Elena never really understood what John meant by “faith.”

  She remembered a story she once read in a Church book.

  In that story, a divine messenger from the forest brought magic to humans.

  But when people trusted magic more than they honored the messenger, the messenger grew disappointed and brought destruction down on them.

  Most people treated it like a warning tale, don’t be greedy, respect the messenger, because the messenger’s temper was unpredictable and even a small offense could wipe you out.

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  Elena didn’t see it that way.

  The messenger brought magic to make life better.

  But people didn’t feel grateful. They used that power to hurt each other.

  Watching them take a gift and turn it into slaughter, growing greedier, crueler, even ignoring the messenger’s warnings, how could the messenger not get angry?

  Whenever Elena shared that opinion with John, he only smiled and said she was young, that she didn’t yet understand the Light God’s greatness and mercy.

  Elena tried praying to the Light God.

  She prayed for a warm place to sleep.

  She prayed to never go hungry again.

  She prayed that people would stop hating her for no reason.

  Of course, the Light God gave her nothing.

  Elena had expected as much. She’d only tried it once, just to see.

  Maybe that was what John meant by “not faithful enough.”

  But so what.

  Faith didn’t put food in your stomach.

  When Elena was almost beaten to death by those kids, she thought maybe the Light God hated her too, because she carried demon blood.

  Otherwise, why would she be born into a world that punished her this brutally?

  Right before she blacked out, words from that same story flashed through her mind, the messenger’s warning.

  “I gave you power so you could protect yourselves, not so you could torment others.”

  Elena thought the messenger had been right to destroy those people.

  Weren’t those kids doing the exact same thing, leaning on their numbers and their strength to crush someone weaker?

  Most of them were even younger than she was.

  And still they joined in, punching and kicking her, screaming “demon,” “freak,” “cursed child.”

  Elena almost laughed at the irony.

  How could those kids even understand what those words meant?

  They didn’t need to understand.

  They just needed an excuse to make their cruelty feel reasonable.

  Whether Elena was innocent or not didn’t matter.

  The strong bullied the weak. That was how the world worked.

  Elena felt wronged.

  She was a child too.

  She was hurting too.

  But except for John, no one cared to see that.

  All they cared about was her demon blood.

  Nothing else.

  “If only I had power of my own,” Elena had thought.

  She begged with all her heart, “I want the strength to protect myself, so I won’t be bullied anymore.”

  “Please, divine messenger, I swear I won’t use it to hurt people.”

  “So please, have mercy, please give me power.”

  “I’m so lonely. It hurts so much.”

  Maybe that desperate prayer counted as “faith” after all.

  Something fierce and scorching burst out of Elena’s chest.

  She thought she saw a blurry figure wrapped in white light, gently holding her.

  And that was when Elena released her first Miracle.

  “So you heard me,” she whispered. “Thank you… divine messenger.”

  Then she fell unconscious.

  After that, no matter how hard she tried, she could never summon that power again.

  Elena told herself it didn’t matter.

  The messenger had given her strength for one moment, just long enough to save her.

  She shouldn’t be greedy.

  She only wanted one thing.

  She wanted to see the messenger again, and thank them properly, with her own voice.

  The next time she saw the messenger was this morning, the moment the villagers tried to burn her alive.

  Elena saw the mob shove John to the ground.

  She was furious.

  John had helped so many people, and they didn’t just refuse to thank him, they turned around and hurt him.

  Elena knew she was innocent.

  No one wanted to believe it.

  No one except John.

  Now John lay there, blood seeping from the back of his head, his life hanging by a thread.

  In that instant, Elena’s grief and hatred surged until it swallowed everything.

  She thought she saw the messenger again.

  And then that overwhelming force erupted, flipping the world on its side.

  Elena broke free, but she could feel John’s breathing growing weaker and weaker.

  All she could do was cry. She had no idea what else to do.

  Then she noticed two outsiders approaching.

  Elena didn’t want to think anymore. She decided they were here to hurt her and John too.

  So she grabbed a stick and swung at them.

  It was useless, of course.

  Still, Elena felt a jolt of shock.

  The white-haired elf who caught her, she looked so much like the messenger Elena had seen in her haze.

  “Rustle… rustle… rustle.”

  Lost in her thoughts, Elena heard something heavy forcing its way through leaves not far away.

  “…John?” she called.

  Elena thought John had come after her.

  And whoever it was seemed to speed up, like they’d heard her.

  “John, is that really you? I’m coming.”

  Elena felt a rush of happiness.

  John hadn’t abandoned her.

  Guilt hit right after, sharp and painful, and she promised herself she’d apologize properly.

  She pushed through the brush, eager to see him.

  And the demon she’d mistaken for John lifted its head, spotting the “little snack” that had just walked straight into its path.