Afternoon came quietly.
The kind of stillness that made the air feel heavier than usual, like a blanket of impending pressure. Inside the small wooden house, Mhari was in the kitchen, slicing vegetables. Her fingers looked steady, but there was a faint tremble she kept pretending not to notice.
Calm down... you're fine... Don't shatter the cutting board.
But her chest refused to listen.
Lith sat at the table, eating friend rice. Silent. Even for him—too silent. He didn't look at her, not even once. And that hit harder than any blade she'd ever know.
"Lith... sweetheart?" Mhari called softly.
But no reply. She would've preferred if he had complained about morning, if he'd thrown a tiny tantrum. If he'd argued, insisted, pushed back, anything. That was normal, and that was healthy.
But instead?
Lith simply stopped talking. He wasn't sulking, nor angry. Just...withdrawn. Quiet in a way that that didn't belong to any child. That made something inside Mhari clench with genuine fear.
She put the knife down and faced him fully. "You're not upset with me...are you?"
Lith's spoon paused. Slowly, he shook his head. "I'm not upset, Mama," he said gently. His voice was soft, polite, innocent—and that was exactly why it scared her. "I was only thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
He finally raised his eyes, and there it was—That mixture only Lith could pull off.
Innocent.
Calm.
Sweet-voiced.
But with a sharp, unsettling edge underneath.
"...the city."
Mhari's heart sank.
Again.
They were back to this again.
Before she could say anything else, the door knocked open.
"Good afternoon!" Rhei entered, carrying a basket under one arm and a paper bag under the other. The smell of fresh city-baked bread filled the house instantly.
Lith's eyes lit up. "Uncle Rhei!" He darted off his seat and hugged the man's waist.
Rhei laughed awkwardly, patting his hair. "There you are, little warrior. I brought something for you. Only the city sells this."
Lith accepted the sweets like a well-behaved angel. "Thank you, Uncle Rhei." He smiled politely. Too politely. Mhari mentally sighed.
Rhei, you are deliberately tempting him with danger. Stop.
"Did you see any students?" Lith asked, his voice casual but his eyes filled with a familiar spark of curiosity. "Were they strong? What was the people? Did you find them very powerful Beastfolk, or elves."
Rhei froze. A chill crawled down his neck. He'd gotten used to Lith's odd questions, but the boy's tone was to calm...too steady...too curious in a dangerous way.
Mhari flicked Lith's ear. "Tone," she warned.
"Ow." The boy blinked innocently. "Sorry, Mama."
Rhei forced a smile. "W-Well... about the city. There are many kinds of people, Lith. Humans, merchants, scholars. But there are also visitors like Beastfolk, sometimes Lizardmans, Elves—"
"Were the humans strong?" Lith tilted his head, smiling, buy his eyes were too sharp for a sever-year-old.
Rhei hesitated. "Most of them...were just trying to get by." He said. "Life is not easy on them, a few are just there as an entertainer."
Lith's expression hardened slightly. "So the Beastfolk are stronger?"
Rhei shifted uncomfortably. "They have certain advantage, yes. Magic or brute strength."
"Can you measure the strength, Uncle Rhei, or are you just assuming that humans in the City are weak?" He was still just seven, but the question carried the dry sarcasm of a bored imperial advisor. Lith's angelic innocence was replaced by a sharp, unsettling critique. Mhari blinked, annoyed. She hated it when he talked like a reincarnated noble.
Lith's innocence are not there, for some reason. It was as if he was making a sarcastic talk.
It was times that Mhari never gets him.
Mhari gently pinched Lith's cheek, cutting off his line of questioning. "Lith, stop interrogating your uncle."
"I'm not interrogating him, Mama."
"Yes, you are."
Lith sighed, a world-weary from a child who'd only seen the world for seven years. "...Maybe a little," he admitted quietly.
Rhei laughed nervously. "It's fine. Really, I'm used to him."
Just then, a group of children approached the cottage, calling Lith's name.
"Gotta go," Lith said, flashing a quick smile at his mother and Rhei before darting out the door.
Mhari watched him leave, a knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach.
"He's... a handful," she said, turning to Rhei with an apologetic smile.
Rhei chuckled. "He's something else," he said, his gaze following Lith as he joined his friends. His eyes gazed as if he was a person that has potential. Mhari just looked on him with disappointment.
Rhei turned his attention back to Mhari. "Ah! I almost forgot. I brought you a treat from the city."
He pulled out a small, beautiful wrapped pastry. "The baker said it's a local specialty."
Mhari's eyes widened slightly. "Rhei, you didn't have to."
"It's nothing big." He scratched his neck, suddenly shy. "And uh... you're always helps everyone, so...y'know."
Mhari accepted the pastry, her fingers brushing against his. A warmth spread through her, a feelings she quickly suppressed. She just looked down. She was too scared that she was starting to like him. Mhari's husband, is not someone that will be replaced or forgotten. She cannot break the promises that she had ever give to her late husband. The feelings to Rhei are a no-go.
"Oh—right. Something else," he said. "There will be visitors como soon. Supposedly to inspect our rice harvest. A noble family, they bought everything I brought to the city."
"That's good," Mhari replied. "We should thank them properly."
"I thought the same," Rhei said. Though there was a small flicker in his eyes—something he didn't voice.
——
Two days passed swiftly. On that day as morning began, everything changed when a carriage stopped outside the small rice town. What was suppose to be a just a kind noble checking on how was there farm like, has gone to complete darkness. Because the ones who stepped out were not just humans.
Two towering figures with wolf ears. Wolf tails. Muscular, fur-patched arms. Beastfolk.
Nobody expected them. Not Rhei, the villagers, and even Mhar.
Behind them descended a noble old man and a young boy—about Lith's age, dressed in expensive clothing, and it was a wolf human figured.
The air shifted. Everyone felt it. They are all fearful. Never ever in year's does a Beastfolk ever step there foot in that little village.
"Beastfolk...? Here...?"
"Aren't they dangerous?"
While everyone was shaking, Mhari remained composed. Everyone are silent. She could feel everyone's gaze of her village on her, not one of them blinking because their of what was going to happen. They are afraid.
Mhari hates this feeling. She needs to protect them. But the one that Mhari was so scared was about his son. Just the thought of anything that would happened to his child... A power that was sleeping for a long time would be woken up.
Why are Beastfolk looking down on them? Was it because they were weak? The fear of those commoners are all she can hear. They look like they are nothing to her face. They look like they are the real prey now.
Calm down Mhari. Calm the fxx down.
And that time.
Lith wasn't outside.
He was home—lying on his stomach, reading a book, bored out of his mind. The book hovered slightly above him because of the power that he holds, it was still floating without the use of his hand. His expression remained angelic, but the truth was simple:
Everyone here is too weak...and boring.
He flipped the page. TCH. The end has come. He felt such emptiness, a hunger for stimulus.
I need to test the limit. Someone needs to be the standard.
"What's taking Mama and Uncle Rhei so long...?"
They are out side on hours from now. Has something happened? The question kept popping in his head.
Why does they say everyone has a strong power. Can he not test if those abilities were real to others if they will not take any actions? Why not prove that all race are the same even if it's beast or not?
Lith was frustrated. He never liked that people looked down others and think so highly on themselves. He would make them pay.
He wanted to prove that humans were strong. If not, they were all useless—including himself. His beautiful face stretched into an internal, silent GRIN, quickly smoothed back to an angelic calm.
I should find the strongest one, break them, and drag them to Mama. Then she will have to teach me.
He giggled, his face full of innocent desire, head clouded with purpose.
He giggled, his face full of innocent desire, his right hand still holding a book. His head was then clouded with madness!
With his strength he want's to be able to fight those people to show his mother that if she would ever show his power outside, then that very scene will be a thing! To show his mom that even humans can be equal position with others!
To show his mom that he also has all the right to be inside of the city! To show that this talent, will lead him to an adventure. With his strength he want's to be able to fight those beast.
That's right!
——
Back at the village entrance.
Mhari and Rhei stared at the newcomers, stunned.
One of the wolf Beastfolk spoke, his deep voice echoing. "I didn't expected to find such lowlife in such a backwater place." He said in a roughy and annoyed tone.
Her blood boiled instantly. SHIIING! Her hands curled into fists. Her aura—suppressed for years—flared for half a second before she crushed it down with absolute will.
Lowlifes? You condescending fluffy piece of —
She inhaled sharply, forcing her anger down.
Rhei whispered, "Mhari...calm—"
"I am calm," she hissed, cursing every ancestor of the wolf man in her mind.
She kept a polite, strained smile on her face. But inside? She was already planning his demise.
Five different ways to dissolve this motherfxcker and use his life force to fertilize Rhei's winter crop. She just needed an excuse.