Elena realized that what she had said to John earlier was true.

  She really was dead weight.

  If she had never existed, John would not have been dragged into so much trouble because of her.

  If she had never existed, Enid would not have gotten torn apart protecting her, now lying in Elena’s arms, barely breathing.

  If she had never existed…

  Would everyone have been happier?

  Enid and Elena had holed up on a small island in the middle of a lake.

  “Holed up” was generous, Enid had found the place right before she ran out of strength, a strange lake where moonlight pooled on the island at its center.

  Enid thought the moon’s glow might help her body recover faster, the way nature sometimes did when it was given a little time.

  But moonlight could not knit bone-deep wounds back together.

  And it sure as hell could not ease the curse that felt like it was about to swallow Enid whole.

  Enid dragged herself through the shallows and crawled onto the island, then her shattered leg finally gave out.

  She collapsed hard, face-first on the ground.

  “Enid!”

  Elena grabbed her, hauled her by the collar, and pulled her into the brightest patch of moonlight.

  Then Elena tried to peel off Enid’s clothes, clothes soaked through with demon blood and her own.

  But the fabric had dried and stuck to Enid’s skin like a second hide.

  Elena could not rip it away.

  If she pulled too hard, she would tear Enid’s skin right off with it.

  Elena sat beside her, frozen.

  She pressed her small, trembling hands against the wounds, trying to slow the blood that kept spilling out.

  “Cough… cough…”

  Enid wheezed and hacked up the blood clogging her throat, just enough to keep her airway clear.

  “N-no… Enid…” Elena’s voice shook. “That’s… that’s too much blood. What am I supposed to do?”

  All she could manage was rinsing grime away with water and using a clean scrap of cloth to wipe what she could.

  She was too small to carry Enid to safety.

  Too weak to drive off the demons closing in.

  She did not know what she was good for.

  Elena just held Enid’s hand and sat there, numb.

  She could not cry.

  She would not cry.

  Crying would only draw the demons in faster, and it would only prove what she hated most about herself, how helpless she was.

  As Elena slipped deeper into despair, hovering over Enid with no idea what to do next, she felt someone stroking her hair.

  Softly.

  Wordlessly.

  It was Enid, the one who was dying.

  “Enid… are you trying to comfort me?”

  Enid did not answer, but her hand did not stop, so Elena took it as yes.

  “My selfishness put you through all of this,” Elena whispered. “And you still… you still want to comfort me?”

  Enid’s eyes were drowned in blood, she could not see anything now.

  She could only feel for Elena’s expression through faint touch and instinct.

  It was exactly what Enid expected, grief, fear, hopelessness.

  And yet there was something else mixed in, something that felt almost like relief.

  “Since the day I was born,” Elena said, choking on the words, “no one has ever comforted me like this after learning what I am.”

  “Even John… he always kept a little distance. I always knew.”

  Elena fought back tears and wiped at Enid’s face.

  It did not help.

  No matter how carefully she rubbed, the blood would not come clean, and the smear on Elena’s hands only made Enid look worse.

  “Just like this,” Elena whispered, “I can’t do anything right. I only make everything worse.”

  “Maybe… maybe I really am cursed. Maybe I really do bring disaster to everyone around me.”

  Enid forced her torn throat to work.

  Her voice came out ragged, but gentle enough to hold on to.

  “El… Elena… don’t… talk about yourself… like that…”

  “You’re… you’re just a kid… and still… you were born into this world… because someone hoped for you… and because nature… accepted you…”

  “This is… our failure… the adults’ failure… that children who should have been safe… who should have been allowed to grow up… got pushed into facing… the world’s cruelty…”

  “Even if… everyone… hates you… fears you… hurts you…”

  “Don’t forget… there are still people… who’ll be happy to see you grow… who’ll worry when you’re in danger… who’ll be proud… of the strength you carry…”

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  “So…”

  Enid could not finish.

  Blood flooded her chest and throat again.

  This time she did not even have the strength to cough it out.

  And then the demons finally arrived.

  After everything Enid had done, a force that should have numbered fifty or more had been cut down to five, all of them battered and bleeding.

  She had been that close to wiping them out.

  The one in front was their leader, a demon shaman, the kind that twisted magic into something foul.

  Clever, slippery, and impossible to pin down.

  “Heh,” the shaman drawled, wading through the shallows. “What a touching little scene.”

  He did not rush.

  Why would he?

  The dangerous one was already half-dead, and the other was a child who could not possibly stop them.

  He kept coming, step by step, and it was obvious who he wanted.

  Elena threw herself in front of Enid, shaking from head to toe.

  “Don’t come any closer!”

  Elena stood in front of Enid, her voice shaking as she tried to stop the demon shaman from coming any closer.

  The shaman looked down at her, at the way she carried the scent of both kin and prey, and spoke with a lazy, mocking drawl.

  “Heh. A bastard born from a lowborn long-ear and a traitor from our ranks. Now that’s a sight I didn’t expect.”

  He swung his skull-topped staff and brought it down on Elena without hesitation.

  Her small body flew like a rag doll and slammed into the trunk of a tree on the island.

  The impact crushed ribs and ruptured something deep inside, pain detonated through her chest, and she coughed up a mouthful of bright red blood.

  Seeing her like that, the shaman let out a laugh that made the air go cold.

  “Hehehe… Pathetic. Weak. Spineless.”

  “If your filthy existence hadn’t interfered with that long-ear mage, we might’ve been wiped out.”

  “And the reason it all went wrong was you, you miserable, hateful little half-breed.”

  Elena lay crumpled at the base of the tree, barely moving, giving him no answer.

  The shaman turned back to Enid.

  Enid was sprawled on the ground, drenched in blood, cut open everywhere, a wreck of a woman, yet still staring at him with eyes that could hardly focus.

  He nudged Enid with the tip of his staff and spoke again.

  “Pureblood long-ear, but you’re not one of the high elves from the ancient southern woods.”

  “Not a dark elf from the deep below either, and you don’t look like the wild elves from the eastern wastes.”

  “So what are you, exactly?”

  Enid did not answer.

  “Death’s right in front of you,” he mused. “And you’re not afraid?”

  Enid rasped, voice shredded to threads.

  “To a nature elf… ‘death’ is just… falling asleep in nature’s arms again.”

  “Just… becoming a tiny piece of the world…”

  Her body began to come apart, and something scarlet flickered beneath the surface, like a presence pressing against the skin from the inside.

  It was the first sign of nature’s authority pushing past the limits of flesh, anger gathering, ready to break free.

  Enid spat blood and forced the words out.

  “Go on… wash your neck and wait, shaman.”

  “Pray to nature… for that worthless life of yours.”

  “I’ll remember you, hunt you down, end you.”

  “I’ve already marked… your ‘soul.’”

  The shaman drove the staff’s tip into one of Enid’s wounds.

  Enid grunted, but she did not scream.

  “The ravings of a loser always amuse me,” he said, pleased with himself.

  “Reincarnation, what a joke.”

  “You were strong. You earned my respect.”

  “Too bad you were also… too soft.”

  Enid coughed again, blood bubbling at her lips.

  “At least I’m better than you,” she rasped. “You heartless animals… all you know is tearing down and taking…”

  The shaman twisted the staff deeper, grinding it in.

  “Before I finish you,” he said, “one last question.”

  “That curse on you is warped beyond belief, it’s been tearing you apart.”

  “So why does it carry the stench of our master, the Lord of Darkness?”

  Enid’s mind was slipping.

  She could not even hold her thoughts together, let alone answer him.

  He clicked his tongue.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You were worthy, so I’ll make it quick.”

  “Then I’ll take my time carving you open and see what this ‘blessing’ from the Dark Lord really is.”

  He lifted the staff, the tip lining up with Enid’s head, ready to end it cleanly.

  “Stop!”

  Elena had dragged herself forward at some point.

  She clutched the shaman’s hoofed leg with both hands, fingers locked like a vice.

  The shaman chuckled.

  “Heh. Still not dead.”

  “Good.”

  “Then you can watch how this long-ear dies because of you, you cursed little wretch.”

  He drove the staff down.

  “Your screams and tears will be the finest hymn for the Black Lord!”

  “I told you,” Elena snarled, voice raw, “stop!”

  But the scene he expected never came.

  His staff froze in midair, like an invisible force had grabbed it and refused to let it fall.

  Then the shaman suddenly lost his balance and crashed to the ground.

  Only then did he realize the leg Elena had been holding was gone.

  Not severed, not torn off, simply gone, reduced to dust.

  Before he could even process it, a scorching pain crawled out from the wound and raced through his entire body.

  The pain was so violent the demon shaman couldn’t even think anymore. He just screamed and thrashed on the ground.

  “Gahhh, it burns! It burns! Damn you… what did you do to me!”

  He rolled and rolled until he splashed into the lake, desperate to drown whatever invisible fire was eating him alive.

  Elena crawled back to Enid’s side. She pressed her forehead to Enid’s and whispered, half to herself.

  “This… this is my power. It’s from my faith in the Divine Messenger.”

  “I won’t let you leave me. Not ever.”

  A vast holy force gathered inside Elena, then poured through her forehead into Enid.

  That pure, sacred energy knit every wound closed, pushed back the foul aura in the air, and wrapped them in a radiant barrier, one that shut out anything twisted and corrupt.

  Moonlight spilled over them like a blessing.

  The light blooming from Elena tore through the forest’s endless dark, bright and warm like a fire burning in the middle of the night.

  Enid felt her mind coming back.

  Her senses sharpened, and the mana she’d run dry began to return on its own, like a spring refilling.

  Then she stood.

  Not a single wound remained.

  If Enid hadn’t been wearing clothes soaked in blood and shredded to rags, no one would have believed she’d been dying a moment ago.

  And for the first time in what felt like forever, her head felt clear.

  It was like a cool prairie breeze sliding over her skin, leaving her light, steady, and almost free.

  The curse inside her flared harder, climbing another step, but Enid told herself she could grit through it for now.

  She lifted her left hand and began drawing in the natural power riding on the moonlight.

  “How long has it been since mana came this easily,” she murmured. “Right now, I almost feel like I am nature.”

  A fierce force condensed above her palm.

  A sphere of light appeared, cold and sharp, and it kept swelling.

  It swelled and swelled until it was enormous, its diameter towering like ten Enids stacked end to end, and then it finally hit its limit.

  “I don’t even know what to call this spell,” Enid said quietly. “But you’re lucky.”

  “You’ll be the first demons to get crushed by light magic, literally.”

  The remaining demons stared up at that impossible orb, too stunned to run. They just sagged where they stood, waiting for Enid to reap them.

  In an instant, the massive sphere collapsed, shrinking into something small enough to hold in one hand.

  Enid clenched, then shattered it.

  Light-element power exploded outward from her in a perfect ring, racing through the forest like a silent wave.

  Where it passed, demons were ground to dust.

  Everything else remained untouched, as if nothing had happened at all.

  The moment the spell was done, Enid’s legs gave out and she pitched forward again.

  Elena’s blessing was a double-edged sword.

  It healed Enid completely and refilled her mana, but it also kicked the ancient twisted curse inside her into overdrive.

  That kind of pain could break anything that lived, and Enid was no exception.

  “Enid!”

  Elena, restored enough to move, lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

  She checked her in a panic, then when she realized there wasn’t a single wound left, her restraint finally snapped and tears spilled down her face.

  “Thank goodness… we’re alive. We’re really alive. I finally… finally…”

  Enid hurt too much to speak, but she reached up anyway, brushing Elena’s hair and tapping her cheek with a gentle, steadying touch.

  Elena sobbed harder and looked at her through wet lashes.

  “I’m not a burden anymore, right?”

  “I don’t have to be scared of being abandoned again… right?”

  Enid nodded.

  “Thank you,” Elena whispered, shaking. “Enid… my favorite Divine Messenger.”

  To Enid, Elena had never been a burden.

  She was just a lost kid, swallowed by everyone else’s hatred until she forgot her own worth.

  Enid would not, and could not, leave her.

  That stubborn will of Elena’s, the way she fought the world’s cruelty just to keep living, had burned itself into Enid’s heart.

  “There, that’s it! The light came from here!”

  “Hurry! I think I see someone!”

  “Enid! Elena!”

  Voices carried from the distance, villagers and Antonio following the glow straight to them.

  Enid pulled Elena hard into her arms.

  Elena sank into the embrace without resistance.

  Enid held her tight, then leaned in and rubbed her forehead gently against Elena’s, the way someone comforted a frightened child.

  Right before her consciousness slipped away completely, Enid whispered,

  “Thanks to you, Elena. We made it.”