Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Swordsman’s heavy footsteps were muted by the leaf-covered and soft forest path as he walked forth. He remembers seeing a couple of mushrooms on his way, and after setting up camp with the rest of his party, he had come looking for them -they might be nice in a stew-. The surroundings were peaceful and the sun was making its slow descent into the afternoon sky; leaves rustled above his head and the fresh breeze almost acted as a soothing balm to his troubled mind, yet he couldn’t bring himself to lower his guard one bit. He unfortunately knew all to well the dangers he was most likely to be subjected to if he so much as relaxed while on his own. His eyes skimmed over the roots of each tree he passed, hoping to spot the brown-capped mushrooms, yet he didn’t find any for a whole ten minutes. Strange, he thought, he was certain to have seen them around here. Could he have taken the wrong path? Nay, that was very unlikely. He spent a considerable amount of time in the wilderness, the possibility of him walking down the wrong path was very unlikely… Or was it? He was tired, after all, weary from travel and hardships, so was it not possible that he had confused two paths? Guts grunted, shaking his head. Now was not the time to brood, he had mushrooms to find for supper – it was a relatively mundane endeavour, granted, but he knew very well that even such a harmless little adventure might cost him his life if he wasn’t watchful. Such was the life of the Black Swordsman, doomed to watch out for great peril everywhere, at all times, forever…

He eventually stumbled upon a small clearing, and, relieved that he recognized the spot, approached the tree near which he had spotted those blasted mushrooms. He sat down with a huff, his massive frame hunching over to examine the brown-capped mushrooms. He gently flicked off a bug or two before he began picking them, careful not to crush them under his large fingers and often too-powerful grip. His mind wandered a bit as he executed the task, despite his best efforts to focus solely on the forest floor – it started going over everything that had happened, like it had so many time before and- crack.
He immediately froze, muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. His hand reflexively flew to grip the handle of the Dragonslayer warily – the sound seemed to have come from above. He tilted his head up curtly, his eyes rapidly skimming over the canopy… For a moment, only the rustling leaves answered his worries, as well as the occasional chirping of a bird. It could very well have been an animal, or a branch naturally falling off, but his sharp instincts told him otherwise. Snap. The sound originated from further away this time; whatever was up there was moving away. He should’ve been relieved, but instead of going straight back to camp, he decided to investigate – it was always best to eliminate a threat. So he stood up, drawing his sword from the flimsy leather strap that held it -gods knew how- to his back, and marched forth again, doing his best to prowl despite the meagre covering the forest bushes and tall trees provided. He heard some more noise: it sounded like flapping, rustling… Struggling. His brows furrowed as he focused some more to pinpoint its source, and came to a halt as he stumbled upon another little clearing. He quickly ducked down, laying under one of the nearby bunch of berry-bushes. When his gaze finally landed on the source of the noises, his heart sank into his stomach so violently he could’ve sworn something had forcibly squeezed the air out of him. He scarcely heard anything aside from his own short breaths and his beating heart, felt nothing but the burning tension in his muscles, and the sudden tightness of his skin where it bore the Brand of Sacrifice. There he was, he was certain of it! Images flashed in his mind, each one more horrifying than the last – blood and innards in the palm of his hands, limbs flying, comrades falling, screams, so many screams of so many damned souls before him-

“Hold still! I promise I won’t be long-”

The sudden, strangely gentle command coming from the figure unexpectedly snapped him out of his haunted daze. It was… A voice he was not able to reconcile with the silhouette he saw. It was not the same. It was not his voice. But… It made no sense- wasn’t he right here, in the flesh, the demon that had broken him down into so many pieces? Wasn’t he sitting right there, holding… A fussy mourning dove, gently prying it out of a net-trap, and whispering apologetically to it…?

“I know, I know, I’m sorry but I swear I’ll be just a moment…”

Confusion now mingled with the Swordsman’s anger. His mind could not make sense of the scene before him; anything that was happening was so very unlike what he would do, yet he was sitting right there, wasn’t he? This conundrum only served to heighten the boiling rage simmering right beneath his skin, confusion fueling fury and threatening to break out into an all-consuming, uncontrollable bonfire – he could feel his teeth grinding uncomfortably together, his vision blurring down to almost nothing but darkness, his heart racing and his veins singing – “Revenge! Revenge!” they exclaimed in an unholy choir, their tunes begging to be heard and soothed, calling for his black blood to be spilled… But something snapped him out of it – he has no idea what. Maybe it was the silhouette’s voice again, but regardless, he felt inclined to pay more attention, if only to figure out if his sudden aversion was justified. He took a deep breath, stilling under the bushes, and turned his attention to the silhouette’s hands. They seemed… Not duller, no, they were just as sharp as his were -he could see their shiny claws-, yet he could feel in the way they were holding the dove that they had no intent to harm it. With one hand, the silhouette carefully -but not without struggle- held the mourning dove in place, gently keeping one of its wings outstretched.

“Right there, just a minute…”

Guts forcibly slowed down his breathing. The silhouette’s other hand then went to grab what looked like a piece of paper and a small stick of charcoal, and started tracing something down onto the paper. The stranger looked between the outstretched wing and the paper, and after a little while, released the dove altogether. The bird flew off right away, wasting no time in reaching for the sky, letting out little coos of effort as it rapidly flapped its wings. The silhouette looked at the bird go, contemplating its leave for a moment, before it held up the piece of paper to eye level. The Swordsman noticed they had actually sketched out the bird’s wing – for what purpose, he knew not, but the still-tingling Brand of Sacrifice told him it probably wasn’t a good one. Guts moved with the intent of drawing closer, but a twig snapped loudly under his weight, and the stranger’s head whipped almost unnaturally rapidly towards the source of the noise. Striking, bright blue eyes met the Swordsman’s dark ones, and he found himself freezing again. Those eyes… They were like his, yet so unlike them at the same time… They shared the same captivating intensity, yet they lacked the cunning and calculated aspects his had. This stranger’s blue eyes flickered with untamed life, with a purpose devoid of any ill intent, an untainted sharpness and a wit that differed so much from the endless scheming and plotting he used to do… But Guts wasn’t able to stare for more than a few seconds, as the stranger swiftly dashed away into the under-bush, disappearing from the Swordsman’s sight. In something between disbelief and frustration, Guts stumbled up to his feet, but held back from calling after the now-vanished stranger. He could not mess up now – this was a delicate situation he found himself in. He’d just been presented with a mystery stranger than the ones he was usually confronted with, and he was lost on how to even begin to approach the issue. He was missing so many elements that he was sure if he reflected on the matter any longer, it would drive him even more mad than he already was.
The Brand stopped itching then.

◇

Later that evening, Guts couldn’t bring himself to eat anything, or sleep at all. His mind was far too preoccupied with the encounter back in the forest, the brief glimpse of the stranger’s blue eyes now another image haunting his troubled mind. The others had noticed, of course, and tried to get him to speak about what he’d seen back there, how he was feeling… In vain. As impenetrable as ever, his thoughts and feelings remained a mystery. It was clear that whatever had happened had troubled him far too much, and that for the moment, there wasn’t much the party could do. They could only trust Guts to open up on his own terms… It was night. The Black Swordsman was sitting in his tent, eyes staring into the void and brows set in a permanent, confused frown. He was still trying to make sense of what he’d seen – but he didn’t feel ready to go back out there and investigate. What exactly had he seen? It wasn’t him, now that much was certain. Things would not have gone down the way they have if it had been, no. Guts would’ve sliced him in half right then and there. He was torn, still, between feeling thankful that he actually didn’t act on pure impulse and murder another potentially innocent soul, but on the other hand, what was up with this uncanny resemblance? This dreadful sense of familiarity accompanied by this striking and undeniable difference… He had to tread carefully. He couldn’t go head-first into it this time, he needed… A plan, whatever it may be.

He sat there until the moon was high in the sky before he grabbed his sword again and walked back into the forest. Puck, the little elf, had noticed -of course he had-, and fluttered closer to Guts, who promptly ignored him. The Swordsman kept walking forth, the trees on either side of the dirt path passing by in a blur. Puck had a bit of trouble keeping up, but he started chattering anyway:

“Where are you heading so late, huh? Is it about what happened in the forest? We’re all very worried, you know. You haven’t tried the soup! Those mushrooms you picked were quite good…”

Guts continued to walk, eyes raking over the forest in an effort to find the same clearing as earlier today.
“You could slow down a bit, you know!” Pucks panted. “What’s the rush? Did you spot a deer or something? Some… Some wolf you want to sell the fur of- what’s gotten into you?”

The former mercenary kept walking, ignoring Puck’s occasional whine of protest at the speed at which he progressed. The little elf briefly lost sight of the Swordsman, who blended into the forest shadows… A little panicked, he picked up in flight speed, only to crash into Gut’s shoulder a bit further ahead. Before he could protest, Guts quickly caught him in his hand, his eyes riveted onto a silhouette up in the trees. Puck peeked over the man’s large fingers to catch a glimpse, and fairly enough, there was someone up there, perched in a pine. He couldn’t make them out very well, except for their blue eyes, that shone unnaturally in the dark of the night, with a colour that reminded the fairy of the moon. His tiny wings fluttered anxiously, as the figure stared at them so intently from their perch.

“… Is that… What you were so worried about, Guts…?”

Puck whispered, looking back at the Swordsman. He noticed his face, set in an intense expression that betrayed nothing but his tension. The little elf looked back at the silhouette. If it weren’t for the slight sway of the pine tree in the wind, they would’ve been completely immobile, and nearly invisible. Whatever they were wearing made them melt into the darkness of the night, shielding them from nearly any observer… Yet those eyes betrayed them. They were impossible to miss, their eyes. Piercing, icy… Like an animal studying the whereabouts of its prey. Puck swallowed nervously. Guts, meanwhile, could feel his thoughts racing as he tried to figure out a way to assess if this person -or thing- was a threat or not. There wasn’t really any way to tell while they were perched up that damned pine. He tried to think of a way to get them -or it- to come down, closer… He took a few steps back, and, seeing they weren’t moving, walked back into the forest. He had a feeling he would be spending the rest of the night pondering the issue… So he decided to make himself a small fire. Keeping Puck in his left palm -he didn’t trust their surroundings to be safe enough for the fairy to fly about freely for now-, he started gathering a couple of fallen branches, and went back into the clearing. While keeping a close eye on the silhouette, he fashioned a couple of stray stones into a circle, positioned the branches in their centre, sat down on the forest floor and hunched over them to start the fire. This was the only time he took his eyes off of the mysterious figure for more than a couple of seconds, but it was enough for them to disappear out of sight once more. Once the fire properly started, Guts swore under his breath when he looked back at the pine and noticed that the stranger was gone. He let out a frustrated sigh, sat up a bit straighter, and stared into the flames, as if they might be of any help. Puck took that opportunity to flutter around, he too feeling a bit anxious to have lost sight of the silhouette. He didn’t stray further than the light provided by the fire… At first. When Guts looked back at the forest, and saw Puck’s absence, his heart started to race. Damn this moment of inattention. He grabbed his sword and started looking around, sharply calling out the fairy’s name.

“Over here!”

Puck replied. Relieved, but still anxious, Guts trotted over to the source of the noise, and indeed spotted Puck flitting about a berry-bush. The Swordsman’s shoulders were just about to relax when the little elf disappeared from sight again, in a swift motion, and with a tiny yelp. He roughly shoved aside the berry-bush only to notice the mysterious figure staring at Puck curiously, who was trying to pry himself out of their grip. They perked up as soon as they noticed Guts, those piercing blue eyes meeting the Swordsman’s dark ones yet again, and quickly ducked away, letting Puck fly free… But Guts wasn’t about to let them get away this time. He started running after them, following the rustle of leaves and cracking of branches as they hopped and slipped away with an ease that betrayed they’d probably done this before. Guts would swing the Dragonslayer against the roots, ferns and bushes threatening to make him trip, determined to catch up to the stranger. The figure then did a sharp one-eighty, and headed straight for him – surprised, Guts halted in his tracks, and let out a grunt of slight disbelief at the speed of which the stranger moved. No sooner had he raised his sword in a defensive position than the other person hand gone over him, using his shoulders to jump higher into the trees. His hand flew up reflexively in front of his face, briefly brushing against the stranger, but he cursed at himself for not having thought of getting a hold of them then. By the time he’d turned around, the figure was already far away, and had almost reached the clearing. Guts gritted his teeth and resumed his pursuit. He knew he was at a certain disadvantage – it was night, he had only one eye, and to top it all off, he was slower than this mysterious opponent -or, rather, yet to be opponent-. But he was not about to let them slip away. He was there to understand, and understand he will. He forced his legs to move faster, and noticed the figure up ahead-

“Boo!”

Puck had suddenly fluttered right in front of their face and yelped sharply, making the figure stumble and fall off their preferred path in the trees

“Well played, Puck! Keep ‘em disoriented, we almost got them!”

Guts ordered the fairy while he caught up. He noticed how awkwardly the stranger’s feet moved about on the forest floor, trying to escape Puck’s sudden pestering. Perfect. The stranger only had time to utter a brief, bird-like screech of frustration before Guts was on them, finally restraining their movements.

“Gotcha, fucker-”

He grumbled, using his free hand to hold the stranger up to eye level. He couldn’t feel any clothes to find purchase on, so he opted for the neck instead -which fit into his hand, strangely enough- but he didn’t squeeze hard enough to completely prevent them from breathing. He watched their form writhe and struggle against his grip for a moment, the sound of their claws and talons scraping against his armour mingling with their grunts and laboured breaths. He focused, determined to properly assess them now that they were in his grasp… And so he looked into those blue eyes again.

Everything else seemed to fade away for a moment… But what he saw in them defied his expectations. He had, unconsciously, already conjured up a portrait of them after their first encounter, and had sketched out what he suspected were their character … And yet, they were almost nothing like he’d imagined. He’d expected wickedness, evil, in any shape it might take, to be leaking out of them, and rippling on them, in a disgusting flow of despicable energy like the other countless monsters he’d fought. He’d expected to feel repulsed. To feel spite… But there seemed to be none of that here. He continued to watch as the stranger struggled in his grasp -it was pretty much futile-, how their arms and claws scratched and wrapped around his armoured, muscular limb in an effort to get him to loosen his grip – how their strange, avian like legs pushed against his chest to forcefully break free -they did have a lot of strength in their legs, he’d give them that-… And then he noticed those two, weird limbs protruding from their back, fluttering uselessly, utterly unable to help them… What, take flight? He watched as the stranger’s strength diminished under the strenuous but admirable effort of trying to break free… And he felt something stir in his chest at that moment. It was an utterly pathetic sight. They had no way of breaking free lest Guts decided to let them do so, and the more he looked, the more the Swordsman found himself… Thinking. Despite his best efforts, he could discern no ill intent behind those blue eyes. They might just not be showing it right now, he thought. He knew how different people tended to act when in a desperate situation. And yet, something compelled him to feel… Pity, for this creature. He almost felt … Bad, holding them up like this by the neck. He forced himself to stay focused a little longer, now was not the time to go soft; not when the truth was so close. He had not looked away from those blue eyes for a second …

And despite his best efforts, he could see but one thing: he was holding up a creature, alive, moving, and struggling for its survival.

A being that simply wanted to live.

He barely felt the way his grip had relaxed before the stranger fell to the forest ground with a thud, and he lost sight of the blue eyes. Briefly confused, he watched as the figure dashed away, disappearing in the darkness of the night for good.

He’d let them go.

He should’ve felt frustrated, but, strangely enough, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry about it. He couldn’t even feel annoyed at the way the mystery only deepened now that they were completely out of reach. He stood there, his arms now relaxed and back at his sides, the only sounds coming from the little campfire next to him, accompanied by the dancing shadows it projected onto the trees standing at the edge of the clearing. He’d not noticed the soft, burning pulsing of the Brand of Sacrifice.

Chapter Text

“Wait, no! They’re getting away!” Puck exclaimed, confused at the sudden display of what he interpreted as mercy coming from the Swordsman. He looked between him and where the stranger had disappeared, wondering what had made Guts change his mind.

“… Let’s go back, Puck.” was the Black Swordsman’s only answer. Perplexed, the fairy nonetheless followed, feeling a little pang of defeat. “We almost had them…! Why did you let them go, if you wanted to catch them so bad?”

Guts did not reply, and kept walking forward, towards camp. He grabbed a piece of roasted rabbit from what Isidro was cooking over the campfire -it seems he was making himself a little midnight snack- and headed straight for his tent once more, brushing past some of the others who had stayed awake. Puck gave them a brief explanation of what had happened back in the forest, but unfortunately, he didn’t really have details to give on Guts’ state of mind or inner thoughts. All could only speculate, once more.

Guts sat down in his tent again and roughly bit into the piece of roasted rabbit, going over the events of tonight. He knew that he would have to consider another approach if he wanted to know more about this stranger, a more… Gentle approach. He almost rolled his eyes at the idea, but forced himself to consider it. How does one go about something like this in a more gentle fashion? Hunting and catching was obviously not an option anymore. Hell, just thinking about trying again made him… Uneasy. It felt wrong, but he did not know why. He shook his head, trying to force the image of the stranger’s blue eyes out of his mind – he had to think practically for now, and couldn’t let himself be distracted by… Whatever was going on with his thoughts. He took a deep breath and took another bite of the roasted rabbit. He had to find a way to get the stranger to come to him, he realized. Running after them would probably only drive them -and the answers to his numerous questions- further away from him. He had to find out who they were. What they were. He simply had to. He grunted, frustrated by this sudden, near-obsessive behaviour – it was unlike him to feel this way about something other than… Revenge. He wasn’t used to being distracted from his primary objective to such an extent. The quicker he got to the bottom of this, the sooner he could focus on his mission again.

◇

At dawn, Guts went into the forest again, alone. The air was crisp, fresh and just the slightest bit humid. The tree leaves were still in the morning air, and the golden rays of the sun had just started to peek over the horizon. He heard a couple of birds chirp as he prowled the terrain, tracking a boar, mentally going over the proper plan he’d come up with last night. He would find game -large game, preferably- and place it in the clearing. Hopefully, the stranger would interpret the bait as a peace offering, and after that Guts would… Well, depending on the stranger’s reaction, he would, well, uhm… Goodness, maybe he should have gotten some sleep. He could barely think clearly… He shook his head, focusing his attention back onto the boar’s tracks. He found the animal rummaging a pile of fallen leaves at the base of an old oak, and stilled in his tracks. He held his breath and focused… He waited for the boar to stop rummaging before he quickly jumped forth, and thrust his sword into the animal’s side. It shrieked, jerking for a couple of seconds before falling onto the forest ground, effectively dead. The Swordsman picked it up and slung it over his shoulder before walking back towards the clearing where the… He was tired of calling them a ‘stranger’. He did not even know if they were truly human yet, but from what he’d already seen, he supposed they were… Something else. Once he arrived at the clearing, he set the boar down in the middle, making sure it was visible for the creature. He then went to hide as best he could under the berry-bushes, and waited…

Guts noticed a fox or two approaching the boar carcass, although they chose to leave it alone. Good. His eyes did not leave the boar carcass once. He had to ignore the faint growling of his stomach while he observed the area, having not eaten since yesterday’s breakfast.

“Fuck, you better not let this go to waste, you bastard…”

He grumbled under his breath, waiting for the creature-stranger to show up. Birds continued to chirp as the sun climbed slowly up in the sky, its now paler rays filtering through the trees in distinct, diagonal rays. There wasn’t much movement around him, aside from the occasional flutter of small wings or rustle of leaves – the forest was still waking up. Flowers were barely starting to turn towards the light, their petals still half closed, like grumpy little children peeking their heads out from under their warm blankets. Some of them were adorned with tiny droplets of morning dew, the little buds of water sparkling under the pale sunlight, whenever it felt inclined to look in their direction. The trees stood tall and proud, like watchful guardians, over the smaller fauna and flora, ever silent, yet they too delightedly basked in the morning sunlight, their leaves rustling faintly, thankful to see another day.

Guts gasped as he lifted his head off the floor in a jerky movement. He rubbed the dirt off his forehead and nose – fuck, he’d fallen asleep! He quickly looked back at the boar carcass, and seeing it still mostly intact, he relaxed a little bit, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d missed the creature-stranger’s appearance, and swore under his breath. He grunted as he sat up, looking at the forest floor for any traces of their potential passage. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing that could correspond to their strange, taloned feet. He then looked up into the trees, especially the pine tree of the clearing, but he didn’t see them up their either. He sighed, relieved, and went back to hiding in the bushes, his back quietly protesting at the movement after staying in the same position for a while.

He started to get impatient when the afternoon rolled around. When was this bitch going to show up? He didn’t have all day! Frustrated, he decided to take a stroll back towards camp, where he met Schierke.

“Where the hell were you?!” she scolded at once when she saw him. “We were all worried sick about you, and-!!”
Guts held up his hand, softly interrupting her.
“I know, I know, sorry. I went out to hunt but it’s taking a lot longer than I’d anticipated.” he explained. Which… Wasn’t a complete lie. The young witch huffed.
“Yeah? Well next time, you could at least tell one of us. It’s been hours!”
Guts quietly sighed.
“I’m fine, Schierke, see? I’ll go back there in a couple of minutes. My game’s taking its sweet fucking time.”
Schierke sighed and nodded
“Right, right. We’ve got some leftover rabbit, if you want.” she replied, before walking back towards the centre of camp to inform the others of Guts’ whereabouts. He watched her do so for a moment, taking a couple seconds to just… Watch the little group. The clinking of wooden bowls being filled with soup, the group’s soft chatter, the tent flaps opening and closing, weapons being sharpened… It reminded him…

Guts’ shoulders sagged a bit as he took a deep breath. It was better not to reminisce now, he had a stranger-creature problem to take care of. He resumed his walk, taking a small dirt path that led him through a grassy field that separated the forest in two. It was… A beautiful day, he couldn’t deny it. The sky was bright and blue for once, and small clouds drifted tranquilly while the wind made the grass sing quietly… He allowed himself to settle, observe, and forget. Just a little bit. Just for a few seconds… The sunlight felt warm on his face, and he could feel the faint breeze caress his spiky hair. It was nice, he thought, before quickly squashing the feeling down. He still had to be careful. He exhaled a sharp breath before turning back towards the forest, heading to the clearing once more. When he arrived at his hiding spot, he looked over the boar carcass once more: it had been bitten into -by a wolf, probably- but not by the… Thing? He was waiting for. He settled in the bushes again, making an effort to lay down more comfortably to observe this time. He had a feeling he’d be waiting for a while…

◇

When he woke up a second time, it was late afternoon, and the sun had begun its descent towards the horizon. Guts grumbled, groggy, and adjusted his position. He had fallen into quite the sleep, it seems; he was sprawled out on the forest floor incoherently, with no care to properly hide under the bushes at all! He quickly checked himself, just in case he’d been attacked in his sleep, but it seems he had been sleeping utterly undisturbed. He felt… Better. He shook his head and focused back on the boar carcass. A couple of wolves had curiously approached it, and started digging in. Guts was about to shoo them away when the three animals flinched away from the carcass and looked up towards the clearing pine, growling in warning. Guts looked up as well, and there it was- the creature-stranger. The sight made had him holding his breath. He could not afford to slip up any more, it was now or never. He made an effort to try and conceal himself better, keeping a close eye on the scene before him. The wolves kept their attention on the silhouette in the pine, which had started to climb down, branch by branch. Their feet scraped against the bark, the branches creaked softly under their weight, but they expertly made their way down to the forest floor, holding their membrane-like cape around them. They took a few steps towards the boar carcass their talons digging into the soft ground, hunched ever so slightly forward, despite the wolves’ growls becoming deeper and more aggressive. The creature-stranger stopped just a short distance away from the trio, not making any move to attack them, but not making any move to show submission either. They looked at each other for a few tense seconds… And then the creature-stranger took a step forward. One of the wolves dashed forth as well, with the aim of biting their leg, but they flared out their cape and screeched loudly, effectively scaring the trio off into the forest. Guts frowned and gritted his teeth, the Brand on his neck itching. It was exactly like-

The creature-stranger made a bit of a face once the wolves were effectively gone, as if they were embarrassed by what they’d just done. They let their cape fall back and crouched down, quickly focusing on the boar carcass instead. Guts couldn’t deny they had just been a bit… corny. It almost amused him. Almost. He watched as they leaned in close to the animal, slowly and carefully smelling it. He noticed their nostrils flaring ever so slightly, analysing every scent they came across, their blue eyes betraying the way they were lost in thought. They weren’t outright rejecting the boar, which was a good sign, but Guts stayed attentive to each and every twitch of their face and body. Their nose would scrunch slightly around where the wolves had eaten, and he even saw them take a tentative nip at the raw, exposed flesh. They prodded the boar once or twice, probably trying to guess if it had been tampered with, before allowing themselves to have a proper bite. They chewed thoughtfully, investigating the boar meat with their taste buds. Seemingly satisfied, they quietly cooed to themselves and sat down to properly dig into the boar carcass, accepting the offering. Guts relaxed a bit, but stayed hidden for the time being. He felt as if it would be wiser to come out once the creature-stranger had eaten a good portion of the boar. He stayed put, observing them while they ate: it was almost a bit too animal-like for his liking. Sometimes they’d cut off pieces with their clawed hands and bring them to their mouth in a more civilized manner, but more often than not, they’d firmly plant their taloned feet into the dead animal and pry the meat off of it with their mouth and teeth. Guts swore he also heard some faint chirps coming from them, and now he was even more lost on what to think than he was before. He bit down on his lip as he thought, absent-mindedly scratching the Brand of Sacrifice on his neck as he tried to figure out how to proceed. Maybe he had better tamper with the boar… No. No, that probably would’ve destroyed his chances to gain the creature’s trust. He held back a groan. Why was this so complicated? He’d never needed to think so hard about how to approach a demon before! Well, a supposed demon. Damn it, he was still missing that crucial piece of information. Was the creature-stranger actually a demon, or were they something else entirely? There was no way to know right now. He really did have to gain the creature’s trust. He took a deep breath and focused back on observing them for the time being – it was the best way to learn right now…

Their nose was connected to their forehead in a perfect, gently curved slope, and its pointy tip seemingly helped them poke into the boar’s flesh, a bit like a bird’s beak. Said nose, brow and forehead were very dark in colour, as opposed to the rest of their face, which presented a more normal skin tone. It definitely looked a bit like his helmet, making Guts take further note of the two’s potential… Parentage. He shook his head, trying not to let his thoughts and memories get the best of him now that he was closer to figuring things out. He looked at the stranger’s hands and arms, noticing how the nearly pitch-black colour of their skin bled into a paler, more greyish tone below their pectorals, which, he guessed, was a more vulnerable area. Their skin darkened again at their waist, becoming pretty much pitch black over the whole of their avian legs. Their talons glistened dangerously in the evening light as they tore through the boar carcass, much like their smaller, but not any duller, claws. The strange membrane that looked like a cape -much like his own- was attached to their shoulders by two little buds that looked like claws. They were probably made of keratin, but Guts couldn’t be sure of that from where he was. The large piece of flesh lay there motionless behind them, boneless, even. The Swordsman wondered if they had any sort of control over it, or if it was merely a useless appendage. He could faintly make out the shape of their skin-wrapped wings beneath, the limbs folded neatly against their back. Blood trickled down their chin as they continued to eat the boar carcass, their lean muscles visible with every movement they made. Guts noticed that the dark parts of their skin looked almost rougher than the clearer ones, as if they were made of thick leather rather than actual skin. Said leather glistened faintly in the evening light, almost like a crow’s feathers, and particularly so on the smooth, round head.

The Black Swordsman sighed quietly. To him, this creature-stranger’s connection to the God Hand was more than obvious, but their behaviour… Puzzled him. Any demon, any apostle would’ve jumped him by now, frantically going after him and trying to dismember him, and worse… Yet this one was calmly eating that boar, head perking up every once in a while, just like any other animal in the forest would do. What did this mean? Were they a different kind of demon he’d not met before? He doubted it. He’d travelled so much, fought so many enemies, that it seemed impossible that they could be anything he hadn’t already come across at least once. Were they an apostle, then? Guts quietly shook his head. Their character didn’t seem to fit with what constitutes an apostle… Though, he didn’t know them that much. They probably had a lot of secrets still, and the Swordsman was determined to get to the bottom of every single one of them. Meanwhile, the creature-stranger had finished eating a good third of the carcass when they paused, nose hovering just above its uneaten fur. Guts tensed. He’d forgotten his scent was probably clinging to the animal – he’d brought it all the way here in the clearing, after all. He noticed the creature-stranger tense up slightly, their eyes raking over the trees… Before landing on Guts, yet again. He held his breath, his mind racing. He’d not thought this far ahead. He probably should’ve. Should he address them like they were a wild animal, or a person? Should he behave like he always did, or should he show some restraint? Maybe going for a peaceful, relaxed approach was the best option. He took a deep breath, and slowly, very carefully, he stood up from his hiding spot in the bushes. The creature-stranger watched him do so warily. They briefly looked between the boar and the Swordsman, seemingly realizing that he’d been the one to put it into the clearing. Guts inhaled and raised his hands in a non-threatening manner.

“… Yeah, it was me.”

He started, making sure to keep his voice level and quiet, but clear enough for the other to hear him.

“… Look, I know we didn’t uh… Start on the best terms, but I just wanted-”

But before he could finish his sentence, the creature-stranger darted away again, disappearing under some nearby undergrowth.

Guts gritted his teeth, letting out a very much annoyed grunt, before he threw an angry punch at a nearby tree. He then forced himself to calm down, but it was proving to be challenging. He’d been on difficult hunts before, he’d met dense and stubborn animals- but this was different. This was important. He couldn’t just find another one like them, one that would behave more easily. If he wanted to get answers, then he had to be patient, and it frustrated him. He drew his sword, and with one powerful swing cut the boar carcass in half, roughly slinging over his shoulder the still-untouched part. He wasn’t about to let the animal go to waste on top of another failed attempt. Letting out a flow of quiet curses under his breath, he started making his way back to camp.

Chapter Text

Night had fallen by the time he got back to camp. He threw the rest of the boar carcass next to the main fire before storming off towards his tent in frustration, not giving anyone time to ask him anything. Puck tried to flutter closer, but Schierke held him back, shaking her head.

“Let him be. He looks like he’s in a foul mood…”
“So he didn’t manage to catch that stranger, I’m guessing.” the fairy sighed.
Schierke’s brows furrowed slightly, leaning in closer.
“Stranger…?”
Puck swallowed nervously.
“U-uh no no! I meant… Game, yes, haha! No stranger whatsoever!” He tried to backtrack, but it was too late for that.
“Puck, if there’s a stranger out there in the forest we need to know. This could be very dangerous-”
“I-I know! I know! But… I’m not sure Guts would want me to tell you. He seems hell-bent on trying to catch them on his own.”
The young witch sighed and nodded.
“… Yes, he did lie to me about it… But if this poses a threat to the party, then we should all know about it. So, please, tell me, what is this about…?”
The fairy hesitated, hovering up and down nervously, before giving in.
“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you what I know…” He sat on her shoulder with a tiny huff. “So, yesterday, I caught Guts going into the forest and I followed him. He didn’t really tell me what he was looking for, but… I helped him catch this weird-looking stranger… I think it was a demon.”
Schierke gasped quietly, suddenly alarmed.
“A demon?? Are you sure, Puck?”
“Well- no, not really…” The fairy admitted.
“Not sure?!” The witch exclaimed. “This is serious, Puck! You can’t just not be sure if a demon is roaming around!”
“I know!!” Puck replied, a bit defensively. “But Guts let them go-”
“He LET them go?!”
Schierke’s tone was one of both disbelief and anger. This was far from normal behaviour for Guts – he didn’t spare demons. Never.
“Please calm down! They didn’t attack either!” Puck insisted, making the young witch even more confused.
“… They didn’t? But you said they were a demon…”
“I think they’re a demon… But seeing how things went, I’m honestly not sure.”
Schierke bit down on her lip nervously.
“… Still. If it really is a demon, then I need to tell the others, regardless of if it decides to attack or not.”
Puck gave a small nod. “I suppose it would be smart… But there’s a chance Guts won’t be too happy about that.”
“Yeah, well, that’s on him. He should’ve told us about it as soon as he got suspicious.” Schierke replied, and Puck found that he couldn’t quite argue with her about that.

Flying off his perch on her shoulders, he followed her around camp as she informed the other members of the Black Swordsman’s party. Everyone seemed fairly concerned, of course. How could they not be? They were missing a crucial amount of information, even with Puck’s testimony. They could not be sure whether or not this supposed demon was a threat, but they decided to assume, for the sake of their safety, that they were dangerous, and that it would be best not to go into the forest for the time being. The party discussed the issue extensively, but they all came to the conclusion that they had to find a way to get Guts to give them every detail he could. They debated on how to approach the issue with him -he could be stubborn when he wanted-, and found it to be more difficult than they’d expected. There was always the possibility of letting him open up about the whole thing first, but it was very much uncertain how long it would take, and if the roaming ‘demon’ truly was a threat, then this was a precious amount of time they couldn’t afford loosing. The sky had just begun to lighten when Farnese decided to go to the Swordsman’s tent, determined to get him to talk. But when she opened the flap, he was already gone.

◇

Guts practically ran back to the clearing this time. He wanted to get there before the sun was up, to try, again, to catch a glimpse of the creature-stranger. He didn’t have a plan any more; he had decided that he was going to observe them closely, and then only would he think about doing anything. He’d try to minimise interactions with them, at least until they felt trustworthy enough to maybe, just maybe, approach him on their own. He arrived back at his hiding spot and laid down under the bushes again, just in time. He gathered some fallen leaves to try and hide himself better, but his massive frame was hard to conceal around here. It wasn’t exactly dawn yet, but the sky had started to become clearer, and it wasn’t too dark any more. Guts could see his environment clearly, coated in soft shades of a dull blue. His thoughts went back to the previous day, and how the creature-stranger had only made their appearance towards evening. He quietly sighed to himself – he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic at the idea of having to wait the whole day laying down on the forest floor, unmoving… But at the same time, he didn’t know their daily routine, and they might just show up in the early hours of the day this time. He steeled himself and focused, his eyes raking over the pine tree of the clearing, the undergrowth, and the berry-bushes. They weren’t around for now, apparently.

A few minutes passed before the Swordsman noticed any kind of movement around. He initially thought it was a fox, or maybe a rabbit, but as the creature-stranger emerged from the undergrowth, he tensed up and focused his entire attention on them. It seems they had come out of some sort of dwelling hidden behind the curtain of ferns, ivy and tangled up tree roots. They didn’t look to be completely awake, their movements still a bit sluggish and their form still curled up on itself, their eyes squinted as the morning light peeked through the trees. Guts would’ve almost found this funny if he hadn’t been so focused; he closely observed each and every move they made, how they got used to being awake, up and about, how they stretched and mumbled something under their breath… It all looked… Fairly normal, he realised. However, he didn’t allow himself to lower his guard. This could still turn sour… Thankfully, the creature-stranger didn’t notice him, and turned to climb up the pine, a bit more clumsily than Guts had seen them do before. They stayed perched up there for a little while, watching the sun rise, before they hopped into another nearby tree. Guts tensed up again – where were they going? He should probably follow them. He needed to make his decision quickly, though, for the more he waited, the further away the creature-stranger moved… He was about to get up and follow them when he heard faint calls coming from far behind him. He turned around, recognizing Farnese’s and Puck’s voices, even from such distance, and he found himself conflicted. The party was looking for him this time… But the creature-stranger was getting away again! He looked between the two directions, and after taking a deep breath, he started following the figure of the creature-stranger.

◇

The others’ calls promptly faded away as soon as Guts exited the clearing, heading towards the creature-stranger’s new destination. He tried to keep track of them, his eyes fixated on the canopy while he kept the necessary distance between them for him to stay undetected; yet he still managed to loose them in the now denser, richer vegetation. He cursed under his breath, pausing in his pursuit in order to listen to his surroundings. He heard nothing but the morning birdsong for the time being, along with the rustling of bushes as an animal dashed by. He decided to walk a bit further, straight ahead, into the forest, and so he stumbled upon a little brook. Perfect, he thought; it would allow him to explore without completely getting lost. He started walking alongside the running water, occasionally watching it glide over the smooth rocks beneath it. The morning light was making the stream sparkle, accompanying the water’s movement as it fell into a larger, deeper passage, slowly but surely turning into a small river. The surrounding flora looked like it was being regularly trampled by the animals of the forest, and so Guts guessed that this side of the river was a popular pathway for them. As he looked up, Guts noticed the peak of a mountain peeking through the canopy, although it was -of course- far away. The sky was clearer than yesterday, without a single cloud in sight.

The cracking of branches pulled the Swordsman out of his musings, and he focused on the canopy again – there they were, the creature-stranger! He quickly ducked under a thick bush of ferns, trying his best to hide himself again, although it was easier this time. Their dark yet elegant figure climbed down, landing softly on the forest floor again. They looked the same as yesterday, and the day before… For now. Guts watched as they hopped over to the riverbank, their avian legs still struggling to walk on the forest floor like a normal human would. They sat down and looked at the water for a little moment, and the Swordsman wondered if they weren’t observing their own reflection. They then slipped into the river, ducking underwater almost instantly. The Brand of Sacrifice on Gut’s neck started itching, and the Swordsman smacked it in annoyance before the creature-stranger emerged from the water again…

This time, Guts thought his heart had genuinely stopped beating. The creature-stranger had turned into a human, a human that looked much too familiar for the Swordsman’s taste. He couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything else other than their presence in the water, despite not being close to them. He could hear them breathe, he could hear the water ripple and splash with every movement they made; he saw the way their hands reached up to run through their mane of thick, wavy -and tangled- white hair, prying a small branch out of it. He heard the small huff of air they let out as they splashed some water onto their face, some droplets sticking to their eyelashes, or sliding down their neck and resting in the hollow of their collarbone. He heard the life coming from them, the blood coursing through their veins, pumped by the steady beating of their heart… And that made him unbelievably angry. He had not noticed how tight he was gritting his teeth. How he was repeatedly stabbing the forest ground with one of his hunting knives, huffing like a rabid animal. All he could see was him.

It was him.

It was him.

It was HIM.

Griffith.

Chapter Text

Guts impulsively stood up, intending to dash forth and end him at once, but his boot slipped on some mud from the riverbank, and he fell into the water. The cold, running river suddenly pulled him out of his wrathful trance. Now focused on the matter at hand, he found purchase on a large rock, and hoisted himself out of the water, coughing to make sure he’d not inhaled any. The water’s temperature bit at his skin, forcing his thoughts to slow down, and his brain to focus properly. Guts’ head whipped back in the direction of the creature-stranger, and he was about to call out to them, to provoke them into a duel, but he held back. They had not noticed him still -which was advantageous, yes, but surprising, considering the noise he’d just made-, and the Swordsman found himself pausing, and observed them again. The white of their hair was dulled by, he assumed, an improper care of said hair, and it was tangled to the point it didn’t even get wet, the water sticking to it in droplets only. He never would’ve neglected his hair like this. Guts then noticed their face; it was far from the same. The resemblance was uncanny, yes, disturbing to the point it almost made him mad just before, but the shape of their nose was different. Just like their previous appearance, it bent down in a smooth, perfect-looking slope, like the beak of a bird, softly blending in with their brow. It gave them a regal aspect that felt much more genuine than what Guts had seen before; yet they also looked wild. And so Guts realized that no, this was not Griffith standing in the river. His vision had been distorted by its veil of fury. His eyes had seen wrong.

He knew not how to feel. He felt angry that it was not the man he was looking for, but also intrigued. Why did the stranger look so much like him? He’d supposed that they were related, but now that he was face to face with the nearly undeniable evidence of this parentage, he wanted to question it. When could he have… And with whom… How old was… The sheer amount of questions suddenly going through his head almost made him lose the grip he had on the rock, so he wrapped his arms more tightly around it before he could slip back into the water. One thing was certain: he needed answers now more than ever. But he still had to tread carefully; he could not simply jump them and shake them for answers, no. He had to stick to his method of observation, and had to… As much as it annoyed him, it would be more productive if he tried to befriend them. He sighed through gritted teeth before letting go of the rock, swimming back towards his hiding spot and hoisting himself out of the water. He took a moment to slow down his heartbeat and breathing, and focused back on them… They were still in the water, arms crossed and resting on the riverbank as they lounged lazily in the morning sunlight. Their fingers were playing with some strands of grass and little wildflowers. It seems they were just… Having a good time. It was such a simple, peaceful moment, that Guts found himself wondering if they spent their days like this, just lounging in the forest and living off of its fruits and animals. It almost made him… Jealous. They looked so carefree, relaxed and blissful, that it was hard to imagine them as something as evil as a demon. The Swordsman shook his head. He could not afford to think like this. If this stranger truly was related to Griffith, he could trust nothing of their outward appearance, their facial expressions or even their behaviour. He would rather assume they were wicked to the bone than be played and deceived again. It was safer like this.

After observing them for a little while longer, the Swordsman decided to come out of hiding. He stepped into the morning light, where the creature-stranger immediately noticed him. Their first reflex was to dash away, like they’d done before, and he watched as they disappeared behind the thick, low-hanging leaves of a willow tree. He didn’t move, and simply ignored them this time. He went to sit on the riverbank, gazing into the water of the river, looking at his reflection for a moment: he could see a couple of wrinkles adorning his face, caused, he supposed, by his constant state of hyper-vigilance, his stress, his… Hardships. It was showing more and more every day, and on top of that, he wasn’t getting any younger. He let out a low grumble, looking away from his image, and tried to focus on something else. A slight movement caught his eye, and he noticed a couple of fish swimming against the current. He unsheathed one of his hunting knives and stepped into the water, closely watching the animals’ movements -they were faster than he’d anticipated- and managed to catch two. He tried to be swift and quick, but some days precision wasn’t his thing. He tossed the fish onto the forest floor before getting out of the water and going to fetch the materials for a small fire. Once he got the fire going, he sat down and used some more sticks to start roasting the fish. It took some time for them to be fully cooked, but the smell was nothing short of tantalizing. It seems the creature-stranger also smelled the food, for Guts noticed another fish being tossed his way. He was a bit confused at first, because he’d expected them to have left altogether… But apparently they didn’t. He set down the cooked fish and went to pick up the fresh one, and then noticed the creature-stranger observing him from behind the leaves of the willow tree as he crouched down. Having those blue eyes on him was… Unnerving, but he pushed the feeling aside. They were still in the water, with just their eyes peeking over the surface.

“… You… Want me to cook it?”

He asked. They did not reply. He shrugged and sat back in front of the fire to cook it anyway, rotating it from time to time while he skinned the scales off of the ones that had already been roasted. The stranger swam just a bit closer to the riverbank, still concealed by the low-hanging leaves. They seemed curious about what Guts was doing. The Swordsman occasionally glanced at them, wary, but also intrigued to have their attention now. He ate a piece of the cooked fish in his hand, tossing some of its bones aside with the scales. It tasted good, to his surprise, although it could use some seasoning. A couple of herbs, at the very least. Once the third fish finished cooking, Guts took it off of the fire, and… Hesitated. He glanced back at the creature-stranger, still hiding behind the willow-tree leaves. Maybe the roasted fish would work better than the boar… He removed the stick on which the fish had been cooking before tossing the food in their direction. They recoiled just a bit at the movement, before swimming up to the riverbank, now in clear view of the Swordsman, who was closely watching their reaction. They gave it a sniff, before taking a confident bite. They spit out the scales before thoughtfully chewing on the roasted fish flesh, eyes sparkling with interest. Had they never eaten a roasted fish before or something? Guts found the thought ridiculous, but seeing how enthusiastically they started biting into the fish, he couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since they ate anything that wasn’t raw. He tried not to think about it too much and focused back on his own meal. He’d only eaten half of it when he felt the stranger’s eyes on him again; they’d finished their own. Guts blinked. A beat of silence passed.

“You… Want another one?”

They stayed silent, but their eyes made their intent clear. They did want another roasted fish… The Swordsman looked at the untouched one on his lap, and hesitated.

“This one’s for me.” He stated, although he tried not to sound unkind. “If you want another fish, you’ve gotta catch it.”

The stranger’s head tilted slightly, but they ducked underwater and swam away again, in quest of more fish. Guts just had the time to finish his own and toss the scales and bones away when they showed up again, throwing two more fish in his direction, still hiding in the water, but eagerly awaiting for the Swordsman to cook them. He almost rolled his eyes -he still didn’t trust them one bit- but executed himself. He stuck the stick in both fish and put them over the fire while he ate his second one, occasionally rotating the stick to properly roast every side of the fish. The creature-stranger’s eyes were attentively observing the process, and they even leaned closer to the riverbank to watch, some leaves from the willow-tree sticking to their unruly hair. Guts surveiled them closely, not exhibiting friendly behaviour just yet. Once the fish were done, he tossed them towards the stranger once more, who eagerly started eating them, with less restraint this time. Guts finished his other fish as well, and now that there was no more food, the scene was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, which was only interrupted by the quiet crackling of the fire. The Swordsman had to admit, he felt uneasy. He couldn’t shake off this stranger’s uncanny resemblance to Griffith, but he knew that if he wanted to get those damned answers he would have to push past this, no matter how complicated it might be for him. The creature-stranger, meanwhile, calmly remained in the river, satisfied to have eaten a good meal. They looked more comfortable, idly removing the leaves and other small things stuck into their hair, standing properly instead of hiding in the water. Guts took the opportunity to look at their skin, trying to find clues that might say something about their story; the battles they might have fought, the accidents they might have gotten in… But he found nothing. There were no scars, no marks, no brands – only bare, pale, untouched flesh. He saw them look up at him, and so quickly averted his own gaze, focusing back on the matter at hand.

He really had no idea what to do now. Should he let the moment pass and be on his way? Should he try to engage with them? Or should he just stay here until they decided to do something? He sighed, frustrated, and decided to approach the river once more. The creature-stranger instinctively took a few steps away from him and hid behind the willow tree leaves again, but he made sure not to walk towards them specifically. He crouched down and withdrew the Dragonslayer, dipping the large blade into the water. The current washed off bits and pieces of dirt, dry blood, and other things. Yeah, it needed a good scrub. He felt a pang of guilt at having neglected the sword as of late, and grabbed a ragged piece of fabric from his pocket to scrub the rough-looking metal. His palm brushed against the edge, and he let out a low curse when he noticed it to be dull. He didn’t exactly have a sharpening stone with him, and when he looked around, he only noticed the large rock he’d used to stay afloat earlier, peeking over the surface of the water. He waddled against the current over to it, and tried to rub his sword against it, but the noise the metal made while scraping against the rock -it even made him cringe a little- told him that he wouldn’t be able to sharpen the Dragonslayer there.

“Damn it.” He grumbled, running his thumb over the edge of the large blade. “Sorry about that. I’ll give you a proper sharpening when I get back to camp.” He mumbled to the sword, almost apologetically.

He then put it down on the forest floor, not too far from the fire, but still close enough that he could grab it if needed. He then looked down at his feet, still in the water, and wondered if maybe he could try and at least rinse himself, despite the Berserker armour. He could use a good wash. He walked to a deeper point in the river before splashing some fresh water onto his face. It felt… Damn good. He let a sigh slip, and tried to gather some more water to put into his armour so it would run over his skin. The cool temperature of the river did wonders on his scarred skin, caressing his sore and tense muscles in a touch more gentle than he’d felt in years. He felt himself relax a bit, and he had to admit, it felt-

Splash!

His head whipped around as he felt water being thrown at his head, and he noticed the creature-stranger, a playful gleam in their blue eyes, hand hovering just above the surface of the water. Did they just… Splash him?

“Did you just-” Guts grumbled, annoyed and surprised.

They quietly chuckled. Did they want to… Play, or something? It seemed they were a bit hesitant, but they were also winding up to throw another splash. Guts frowned.

“Don’t. Quit that right now-”

They didn’t listen. The Swordsman took another splash of cold water in the face, and let out a curse while they dashed away like a little imp. He responded with a huge splash of his own, using the length of his forearm to create a large wave, that they didn’t manage to dodge. They laughed. By the gods, they laughed.

“What is up with you?!”

Guts exclaimed, incredulous. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. They were having fun?? This made absolutely no sense. Demons didn’t have fun. Not like that, anyway. But before he could think about it more, the creature-stranger was at it again, throwing water at him, and if he was honest with himself, it was riling him up a bit.

“Oh yeah? You wanna play, huh?? Try and dodge that, fucker-!”

He grumbled, grabbing the Dragonslayer from the riverbank, using its length to push a big wave towards them. They let out a sort of gleeful trill, throwing their arms up to protect their face, but the water hit them regardless. They laughed again. It sounded so… Alien, to the Swordsman. He wasn’t used to hearing -or seeing- outwards displays of joy and playfulness anymore, not since… His frown faded a little bit, turning into something like nostalgia. The stranger didn’t seem to notice, and they got behind the Swordsman, splashing water at the back of his head this time. Reflexively, Guts threw his arm in their direction to catch them, but they dodged. How did they do it, he had no idea, especially since they were in the water. He had a hard time moving his legs freely, so seeing them hop and slither with such ease just made him mad. They really were a demon, weren’t they? If they moved so easily in the water, he could almost consider himself lucky that they were playing instead of trying to rip his head off. Fuck, there was that, too. They weren’t attacking him. They’d never tried to attack, actually -except maybe when he’d first caught them in the forest, but then again, they were just defending themselves, and it’s not like they dealt any damage-. This was far from normal for a creature that was affiliated with the God Hand. Guts’ musings were interrupted by another splash of water and, annoyed, he retaliated.

This strange, fairytale-like game went on for a couple minutes, before Guts angrily got out of the water, cursing under his breath. He let down the Dragonslayer -and himself- next to the still crackling fire to dry, with some help from the morning sunlight. He guessed it was close to noon, now, and his mind went back to his party. Were they still searching for him…? A pang of guilt tugged at his heart at the thought, but the sound of the creature-stranger walking out of the water stopped him from dwelling on said thought too much. He turned his eyes towards them, to keep an eye on their every move once more. They plopped down on a sunny patch of grass not too far off. Guts, despite being unbothered by the fact they were nude, looked away in an effort to offer them -well, him, it seemed- a shred of decency. Now that he thought about it, he’d never seen him wear clothes, whether in his human form or the demon one. He found himself wondering if the stranger even had any. The Swordsman would occasionally glance in his direction still, not feeling too comfortable at the idea of him being out of his sight. He looked… Almost magical, fairy-like even, sitting there in the forest, the morning sunlight hitting the droplets of water sticking to his skin and hair and making them sparkle. Guts quietly snarled and huffed, looking away. He knew damn well those sights; the pretty face, the angelic looks, blah blah blah… Those had ruined his life, and he was not about to let some creature bewitch him into believing they were trustworthy and innocent. Silence settled once more, broken only by the crackling fire and the running water of the river.

“… Hey, do you have like-”

Guts, startled, sat up with an undignified, gruff yelp, and looked at the creature-stranger with surprise and wariness, hand on the hilt of the Dragonslayer. He noticed him blink in confusion before his brain caught up.

“Shit, I forgot you could… Speak.” He grumbled, relaxing a bit. This was nothing short of embarrassing.

“Ah-” the other chuckled slightly “You thought I was some sort of mute wild kid or something?”

Guts frowned at him, before looking away again. The damn resemblance got him every time he did look…

“You sure act like one.” he replied “Can’t blame me, you’re more like an animal than a normal guy.”

“Fair.” the stranger replied. “Living in the forest naked isn’t exactly the average guy’s occupation.” he continued with a small grin.

The Swordsman almost felt disgusted at their attempt at friendly banter, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved as well. This whole thing was unbelievably awkward after all, but it could still be a trick to get him to lower his guard, so he stayed vigilant.

“Aren’t you a bit cold sometimes?” He grumbled, as he pulled on his chest-piece the slightest bit to help some leftover water out of the Berserker armour.

“Well… Yeah. That’s why I was about to ask you if you had a blanket or something. The sun’s nice, but the morning is quite fresh.”

Guts looked up at them, keeping his expression neutral, a bit intimidating even. “Don’t you have some furs or something? Should’ve taken them with you.”

The creature-stranger shifted a bit, bringing their knees up to their chest for extra warmth. “Well, I don’t really know how to work with animal skins… I did try, but it would end up rotting every time.” He looked almost embarrassed to admit it.

Guts grumbled in acknowledgement. They looked… Sincere enough. He debated on what to do then. He could always throw them an old rag, but it probably wouldn’t offer much coverage. He knew there were spare clothes back at camp, but… Was it very wise to engage with the stranger so soon? Or was this an opportunity to gain their trust? Lending some clothes wouldn’t hurt… He let out a heavy sigh, and proposed:

“There’s some spare clothes back at my camp. Don’t move from here until I’ve got them, alright?”

“I’d appreciate that… Yeah, not moving from here, don’t worry.” The stranger replied calmly, seemingly trusting Guts with that task. Foolish, the Swordsman thought, he shouldn’t be trusting anyone like that, even if it was for something as simple as clothes!

Guts stood up with a grunt, vaguely gesturing towards the small fire, just in case the stranger might want extra warmth.

“Don’t go thinkin’ I’m lending you all this for free.” He grumbled, to which the creature-stranger replied:

“I didn’t expect you to.” While he scooted closer to the fire.

The Swordsman grunted in acknowledgement, grabbing his sword.

“… You got a name? Or should I call you ‘the creature-stranger’ forever?” He asked, with the slightest hint of curiosity. The other didn’t seem to notice that. He looked up at Guts, with a faint, polite smile.

“Hades.”

Chapter Text

On the way back to camp, Guts found himself pausing for a few seconds on the path, remembering how the others had been looking for him earlier. He had disappeared for a few hours, and he could only guess that they weren’t too happy about it. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for a potential scolding and resumed his walk. His thoughts went back to the stranger… Hades. Quite the name, huh. He surprised himself trying to come up with another potential name, but couldn’t find one that fit the other quite like ‘Hades’ did. He wondered if it meant anything, if Hades held some important position within the realm of the God Hand, or if his parents had picked the name in hopes of him accomplishing great things, or if he’d maybe picked it himself, thinking it sounded… Cool. The Swordsman shook his head. If he did eventually gain Hades’ trust, then those questions would answer themselves later. He mentally went over what he needed to do right now; finding clothes for Hades. He supposed a tunic and a pair of pants would do for the time being, and maybe he could lend him a blanket, as well. But no more than this for now. Guts suspected that if he gave too much right away, Hades would feel entitled to make demands for more, and he definitely did not want to deal with that. He had to figure out what kind of person Hades was, and he could only hope he wasn’t the capricious sort, like one of those spoiled children of nobility. The thought itself made him roll his eyes.

When Guts arrived back at camp, the rest of the party pretty much swarmed around him, all talking at once. He made an effort to try and calm them down, although he understood why they seemed to be at least a bit distressed.

“Alright calm down now- I’m here, I’ve come back, everything is fine- You guys are loud as hell I can’t understand anything!” Guts said, and the little group made an effort to quiet down, enough at least so they could take turns speaking.

“What were you thinking, disappearing in the forest like that without telling anyone?” Farnese started, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“Again.” Schierke added, squinting her eyes disapprovingly.

“I wasn’t worried but-” Isidro followed “you could have given us a heads up. Like come on, what if something exciting happened and we all just missed it!”

“Nothing exciting happened.” Guts grumbled.

“Oh yeah? So a demon in the forest isn’t… Exciting? No, no I guess it’s not something to be excited about-” Serpico mumbled to himself.

Guts tensed up and his brows furrowed.

“Demon…? Who said anything about a demon?”

The Swordsman’s eyes looked over the party, before they landed on Puck, whose wings fluttered nervously. The fairy gave a sheepish smile.

“Puck!” Guts shouted, with a hint of reproach.
“What!! They had a right to know!” The little creature protested, crossing his tiny arms.

“Come on, you could’ve at least waited until I’d figured it out!” The Swordsman argued.

“So there is a demon in the forest!” Isidro exclaimed. That made Isma shiver a bit. Puck flew closer to the two.

“It’s not- I’m not sure it’s a demon, not yet. I need you lot to stay calm, yeah?” Guts replied, in an effort to keep the group from panicking.

“What do you mean you’re not sure? It’s either a demon, or it isn’t!” Schierke said, while Ivalera, perched on her shoulder, nodded in agreement.

“Yeah well for once it’s not that simple-” Guts argued, his patience thinning a little. “I promise I’m trying to understand, if you’d just let me-”

“Let you what, put yourself -and the rest of us- in potential danger?” The young witch argued, interrupting him. “Not happening! Now you’re going to tell us what’s going on so we can all figure out what’s the next best course of action.”

“She’s right! You shouldn’t keep whatever you’re doing a secret.” Ivalera added, fluttering closer to Guts’ face defiantly.

“Yeah, I’d like to know what’s going on.” Isidro agreed, taking a short step closer.

The others seemed to also agree, and were all starting to come a little closer to the Swordsman, waiting for him to start talking. It was overwhelming and, if Guts was honest with himself, very annoying. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, before shouting at them, a vein in his neck thickening angrily.

“That’s enough! Whatever’s going on in that forest is for me and myself alone to figure out, so get your damn noses out of my fucking business!”

The little crowd instinctively took a small step back -Serpico even stepped in front of Farnese, hand on the hilt of his sword- as they heard Guts’ booming voice, while he continued:

“There’s no danger, I don’t want to hear anything about a demon, we’re not moving camp, and no one’s going to die, understood?”

The group stayed quiet, although Guts saw one or two of them nod. He let out a heavy breath, looking over them one more time, feeling a tad bit remorseful for snapping like that, before he grumbled one last “You’re dismissed.” and headed over to his tent, disappearing behind its flap. It became clear then that they wouldn’t be allowed to inquire about the matter any further, but that did little to ease their fears – they still felt as if there was a threat out there, and were now debating on what to do. Should they investigate the threat for themselves, and eliminate it if needed? Or should they let Guts handle the issue and continue to live in uncertainty for the next few days? They weren’t quite able to come to an agreement, and so Isidro proposed to go in the forest, to at least get a feel of what they were potentially up against. The others reluctantly allowed him to, but beckoned him to be careful, as, well, again, they had no idea what was out there. He’d go at dusk, and Puck would accompany him and show him where he and Guts had first encountered the strange silhouette. In the meantime, the Swordsman went back into the forest himself once more, a bundle of old clothes tucked under his arm.

◇

Night fell. Isidro, after grabbing his gear just in case he’d need to defend himself, snuck into the forest. He was much shorter than Guts, so it was easier for him to prowl hidden in the bushes, while Puck flew just a bit ahead of him, guiding him through the trees like a little star. They reached the clearing after only a couple of minutes, the elf stopping and hovering just above the grassy ground.

“Here we are…” He whispered.

Isidro looked around, his eyes still trying to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He saw the tall pine tree looming over the clearing, its roots covered in undergrowth, and a sort of mound next to it, also covered in vegetation. Not seeing anything suspicious right away, he stood up from the bushes.

“Well it’s a pretty calm corner, it looks like. Could almost be a fox’s den. Are you sure it was here?” He turned towards Puck, now perched on his shoulder and looking around nervously.

“Certain. The first time we saw it, it was perched up there.” He replied in a whisper, pointing to the top of the pine.

Isidro looked up. He still couldn’t see very well

“Doesn’t look like it’s here for the moment. Maybe I should make myself a little fire, the air’s a bit fresh.” He remarked, rubbing his hands together before looking for twigs.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” Puck replied, fluttering nervously about the young man.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. If I can’t see it, then it’s probably not-”

Isidro cut himself short as he heard a branch cracking nearby. He turned around, his eyes landing on the clearing’s pine tree, and noticed, though barely, something moving atop of it.

“Shit-” He quietly swore to himself, ducking under the bushes swiftly. Puck was with him in an instant, also observing the top of the pine tree.

“I think that’s them…” He whispered, while Isidro squinted his eyes, trying to see something.

The silhouette was hard to make out, to say the least. Its dark colour almost completely bled into the night sky right behind, so he could only vaguely notice the silhouette’s humanoid shape. It was even harder to discern its movements – Isidro could barely see them moving; it looked more like a black blot of ink than anything.

“I can’t see shit-” He grumbled, looking around for… Something that might be helpful. His hand padded the floor, before closing around a little rock. He quietly sat up in the bushes, and tried to aim at the silhouette…

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Puck exclaimed in another whisper, trying to get Isidro to drop the rock by prying his hand open.

“Relax, I’m just trying to get it to come down so I can see it better.” The young man replied, just as quietly.

“This is not a good idea-” Puck insisted.

“Oh come on! You’re usually on board with my plans, what’s so different this time?” Isidro remarked, a bit annoyed.

“Right, but have you ever tried to get the attention of a demon before? Like that? At night?? Alone??” The fairy argued, sitting on the other’s hand to deter him further from throwing the rock. Isidro rolled his eyes.

“Right, I’ve never done that before but- It’ll be alright. Look! It’s not doing anything! I don’t even think it’s dangerous.” The young man replied, much to the fairy’s horror.

“Not dan- Isidro!! This is probably a demon! When have we encountered a demon that isn’t dangerous?!” Puck argued, annoyed as well.

“Well uh… There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” He said with a slight grin, before nudging Puck off of his hand.

Before the fairy could argue any further, he raised his hand, aimed, and threw the rock with shocking precision -considering it was night-. The little rock landed right on the silhouette’s head, but Isidro’s quiet exclamation of triumph was cut short as their head snapped in his direction, a pair of piercing blue eyes meeting his own. The young man hadn’t expected to be stared at so intensely, and he could feel a shiver running down his spine. Puck flew down to hide in the pouch at his belt while Isidro tried to think of what to do next. His thoughts were a jumble of nonsense, especially with those eyes fixated on him like that. He felt small, much smaller than usual, like a little mouse being stared down by an owl. The silhouette, meanwhile, observed him curiously -he just knew it could see much better than him in the darkness of the night, and just thinking about it made him shudder again-, yet did not display any outward signs of aggression. Its head tilted to the side slightly, and it hunched a bit, as if preparing to come down. Isidro could already imagine it diving down and sinking whatever weapon it had into his flesh, which prompted a little jerk of alarm in his legs. He needed to leave, right now. The silhouette then made noises, which Isidro could only describe as bird-like. The first two, short and sharp, sounded like it was clicking its beak, while the sound that followed was a longer, hawk-like shriek. Isidro took off then.

One hand on his pouch to make sure Puck wasn’t jostled too much, the young man ran away from the clearing and into the forest, but he had a hard time figuring out the path he’d taken to come to the clearing in the first place. He could hear the branches creaking and snapping above him, and he knew the silhouette was following him. This really couldn’t have gone any worse, he thought, while his legs struggled to navigate the forest floor at such a speed. His heart raced, and his lungs strained to take in the cold night air, but Isidro pushed forward still. He took random turns in hopes of loosing the silhouette, but he could still hear it chasing him. Most unfortunately, he tripped, rolling down a small hill before being stopped by a fallen tree trunk. He let out a yelp of pain as his head and upper back hit the sharp, dry bark, and before he could think of getting up he felt the weight of the silhouette on him. They were sitting on his chest, and their taloned feet were restraining his arms. The young man struggled against their hold, of course, even though he quickly realised it was rather futile. Despite them now being so close, Isidro still couldn’t quite make out their features, aside from the talons clasped around his arms. The only thing he could see, again, were their eyes. He felt them lean down, and so looked back defiantly.

“What’re you gonna do now, huh? Eat me?” He barked, spitting in their direction -and missing somehow-, while the silhouette only tilted their head further -almost unnaturally so-, their face now closer to Isidro’s.

The young man continued to struggle, flinching as he felt their warm breath on the top of his head. He heard them… Sniff him? They looked more curious than anything- No! He really had to escape, right now! Their nose lightly burrowed into his hair, and he let out a small noise of discomfort.

“Dude, come on- what is up with you?” He grumbled.

They were playing with him, he thought, just toying with their meal before they slowly devoured him alive, savouring every single bite. He shuddered again, struggling against them some more now that these unpleasant images flashed in his mind. Yet they did none of that. He never felt their teeth sink into his skin, never heard them moan at the taste of human flesh… They just looked… Confused, if the tilted head was anything to go by. They gave him another sniff before their face backed away slightly. Isidro caught a small glimpse of it then; thin and delicate-looking bow-shaped lips, a strong nose with a smooth curve… And those blue eyes, that, in the end, didn’t hold a single hint of aggression. Isidro, in his current state, couldn’t tell what this… Thing was thinking, but it seemed like it did not want to eat him after all. Or harm him. Now it was the young man’s turn to be confused. They really were just curious. That was it. Curious about who had stepped into -what he assumed was- their territory. That almost didn’t sit right with him; it felt almost unnatural for a supposed demon to be so…

He lightly shook his head, focusing back on the moment. Swiftly, he managed to free one of his arms, and roughly shoved the creature’s face away. They stumbled back a bit, surprised, and let go of Isidro in the process, who’d already started running again. He ran down the hill before making a turn on his right, and finally stumbled back into camp after what felt like forever. Panting, he went back into his tent, plopping down onto his bedroll to recuperate, just for a few seconds. The canvas walls reassured him a little, made him feel more sheltered, although he knew that if this creature decided to tear them down, it wouldn’t struggle one bit to do so. Puck flew out of the pouch attached to his belt, taking deep breaths and laying down next to Isidro’s head, allowing himself a moment to rest as well.

“See?? I told you it was a bad idea!” The little fairy exclaimed, after having caught his breath.

“Shut up- I got a good look at it like I wanted!” Isidro argued, running a hand over his face.

“Yeah, and you almost got killed!” Puck retaliated.

“Maybe but… It… Didn’t feel like that. Plus you were in the pouch, you didn’t see it at all!” The young man replied, sitting up, staring the fairy -who was hovering in front of his face now- in the eyes.

“I heard enough, honestly. It caught you!” Puck crossed his arms.

“I get it, my ass got caught! But look, we’re fine!” Isidro argued.

“Oh we’re fine, are we?! We were lucky, yeah, but that’s it!” The fairy said in return.

The two started bickering, loudly, and were interrupted by Schierke opening the tent flap, a look of annoyance on her face. Isidro immediately shut his mouth.

“Keep it down, will you? We don’t need Guts hearing about our plan! The others are waiting for you, head to Farnese’s tent when you’re ready.” The young witch said, before turning back.

The fairy and the young man looked at each other briefly before they went over to Farnese’s tent, where they indeed found the rest of the party. They all looked rather tense, waiting for Isidro to relate what he’d seen in the forest. The young man sat down in their little circle, gathering his thoughts so he could provide an accurate enough report. All their stares on him were a tiny bit unnerving, especially with how the image of the creature’s blue-eyed stare was still haunting him.

“So, uh… Puck wasn’t too wrong, it definitely looks like a demon.” He started. “Although… It doesn’t behave like one.” The others waited for him to continue. “… What I mean is- it caught me at some point, but it didn’t attack me.”

A quiet gasp passed through the small crowd, and Schierke stepped forth, looking more worried than before.

“Caught you? You made physical contact with it?” She asked, her tone a bit urgent.

“Yeah. Didn’t hurt me though! Just… Y’know, chased me and held me down but it wasn’t strong enough to hold me for too long.” Isidro replied, puffing up his chest and grinning.

Schierke suddenly sat beside him, and reached for his shirt, suddenly tugging on the fabric, looking down into his chest.

“Woah, hey!!” Isidro protested, his cheeks reddening “I know my heroic skills are impressive but you can’t do that in front of the others, ma’am-” Schierke bonked his head with her staff.

“It’s not that, you moron! I need to check if you’re injured, or…” She swallowed nervously “… Branded.”

Isidro’s cocky smile faded as he understood. It made sense. If he had made contact with a demon, there was a chance that…

“R-right.” He conceded, removing his belt, shirt and trousers, keeping his under-garments on. He looked down at his skin while the young witch did as well, chest constricting anxiously. Fortunately, there was nothing except a few scratches where he’d pried his arm out of the creature’s taloned grip. No symbols, no brands, nothing. He let out a sigh of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by another pang of worry.

“Brands can’t be… Invisible, right?” He asked Schierke. The young witch shook her head.

“Not to my knowledge. I’ll cast a small spell or two just to be sure, but it looks like you’ll be fine.” She replied, before handing him his clothes back.

While Isidro got dressed, he went on with his report of the encounter, encouraged by the others. He gave as many details as he could; how its head turned in his direction, the talons, the brief glimpse he caught of its face… And its eyes.

“It… If I had to sum it up it would be… I think I’d qualify it as a ‘bird-man’” He finished.

The others looked between themselves, both confused and a bit worried.

“A bird-man, huh?” Serpico mumbled. “I guess that still qualifies as a demon.”

Farnese nodded, agreeing. “A humanoid demon… Do you think it could be an apostle?”

“No.” Isidro blurted out, cutting off Schierke and Isma, who were about to voice their thoughts on the matter. The young man looked a bit sheepish to have done so. “I mean- uh-” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think so. It wasn’t… Aggressive enough. It didn’t feel evil.”

Serpico frowned. “It doesn’t have to look or even feel evil to be evil, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, but-” Isidro conceded. “I don’t know… The concept of that creature being an apostle doesn’t… It’s not quite that.”

The others looked a bit confused, but Puck seemed to share the sentiment.

“What do you mean, not quite that? It’s either an apostle or it’s not.” Farnese remarked, annoyed.”

Puck chimed in: “I think I know what he means. I saw that thing twice, after all. I don’t think it’s an apostle either, but, you know… In the end, the only one who can really tell is Guts.”

The little group whispered between themselves, reluctantly agreeing. But they couldn’t talk to the Swordsman about it. He’d made it very clear that he didn’t want any of them involved…

“But-” Farnese continued. “… Do we now know if it’s a threat or not, at least?” That was the whole point of Isidro’s little expedition, after all.

They all looked at each other, silently debating.

“I guess it… Isn’t. Not right now.” Isidro mumbled. “But I’d say it’s best to stay away from the forest.”

Puck nodded.

“I second that.”

Schierke seemed to disagree. “What if it’s trying to trick us? What if it’s trying to lure Guts in and-… And…” She said, her grip on her staff tightening.

“We’ll be here to help him.” Serpico stated, sure of himself. The others agreed with him, but Schierke shook her head.

“I say it’s best to eliminate the threat right now.” She stated again. “I don’t want to let this … Thing have any kind of advantage over us.”

“I understand, but,” Farnese argued, “we can’t do anything with so little information. And we can’t exactly afford to make mistakes here… This is a very delicate situation.”

Silence fell over the little group again as they reflected on the issue once more, and finally, they decided that they would try to get more information… From Guts himself.

Chapter Text

The next couple of days were filled with an undeniable, lingering tension in the camp’s atmosphere. The Black Swordsman’s party noticed Guts go in and come back from the forest pretty much daily, sometimes during the daytime, sometimes at night, sometimes only for a couple of minutes and other times for entire hours. The party members had decided to try a subtle approach at coaxing information out of the former mercenary, asking seemingly trivial questions, such as “Did you find those mushrooms in the clearing again?”, “No hunters around or anything?” or “Did you meet anyone in the forest today?”, hoping that he’d let his guard down just enough for them to glean something… But that was in vain. The Swordsman would respond with “Yes”s and “No”s, huffs and grunts and half-hearted grumbles. Around two weeks probably passed, and yet no one knew what was going on, still. Guts had noticed their sneaky attempts at learning more about his forest trips, and while he did not outright scold them again like last time, these left him fuming, and he was never afraid to show it. The party had given up about a week and a half in, reluctantly letting Guts handle the issue on his own…

It was noon when Guts came back from the forest once more. The smell of stew and roasted meat filled the air, and the party was gathered around the campfire, their chatter dying down as he came into view. They all noticed the subtle crease in his brow – he was nervous.

“… I think I’ve been keeping you lot waiting long enough.” He stated, taking a few steps closer.

He quietly reached back with his arm, and encouraged someone behind him to walk forth and stand at his side. They were wearing a set of spare clothes from camp, the others noticed, and Guts had seemingly fashioned an old scarf into a makeshift hood around their head, although a few stubborn, wild and long strands of white hair fell over their forehead still. The party held their breath as the stranger’s blue eyes took in their surroundings, wide, curious, but undeniably intelligent. They stayed glued to Guts’ side, but refrained from holding onto his arm, probably not wanting to look too afraid. They seemed to be scrutinizing the party thoroughly, their head jerking the slightest bit, like a bird trying to get a good feel of what it was looking at.

“This is Hades.” The Swordsman said. “Uh… He will be staying with us for a little while. I’ve appointed him as our… Sentinel, and he will be doing most of the night-watching.” The Swordsman paused, taking a deep breath. It’s as if he was feeling a bit awkward at having to explain the decision he’d taken, rather than letting things settle into place on their own. He continued: “In exchange, we’ll give him food, clothes, a place to sleep, and… Company, I guess. He’s also my responsibility, so if anything strange happens with him, report straight to me, alright?”

The others murmured amongst themselves, clearly having mixed feelings. They made the parallel between Hades, the “bird-man”, and Guts’ strange trips to the forest quickly enough, but the Swordsman didn’t exactly give them time to disagree with what he’d already decided. The pair sat down near the fire, and so the party began to eat, in relative silence compared to usual. All eyes were on Hades, on how he was curiously looking around, as if he’d never seen tents or even a pot of cooking food before. His attention was momentarily taken by the bowl of stew and strips of roasted meat Guts handed him, which he quickly started eating, while not using any of the wooden cutlery around. All eyes were on him, except Guts’, which were watching the party’s reaction closely. Not the best, but it was going better than he’d anticipated. Isidro looked both confused, intrigued, and eager, while Puck and Ivalera were -for once- both feeling the same: scared. Schierke looked nothing short of suspicious, sipping her stew quietly, her eyes not leaving Hades for a second, while Farnese and Serpico shared the sentiment. Out of everyone, Isma was probably the least suspicious. She seemed happy to see a new face around, but was visibly holding back from engaging in any form of conversation due to the predominantly heavy atmosphere. Hades, for his part, looked equally curious and wary. He’d noticed he’d not exactly been welcomed, but at the same time, his curiosity seemed to override most of his discomfort. Guts had told him about this whole “party” thing, and he was determined to find out what it was like. For the time being, however, he opted for quietly eating his meal, and would see how the others behaved later on.

Once everyone was done eating, Hades watched as the party members got up and about, doing various things. He almost followed, but held back just before he could finish the motion of standing up. Maybe it was best to look at the place itself first, he could always focus on the people later. He looked back at Guts, almost asking for permission to leave, and noticed the way the Swordsman was looking at him: gravely. This was a warning, of course. Guts wouldn’t take his eyes off of him for a single second, and he probably wouldn’t let Hades survive if anything happened to one of the party members. Hades nodded, understanding the silent command to behave, and got up to walk around the campsite.

Guts, for his part, was nervous. He trusted Hades to a certain extent of course, but it was still a risk to bring him into the Black Swordsman’s party, a great one, he was very much aware of that. But he had no way of knowing to which extent Hades was trustworthy if he didn’t see him around other people. Of course, he would always be there to intervene if necessary. No harm would come to the party. Not on his watch. Never. He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against a nearby tree trunk, watching as the ‘demon’ roamed about, looking at every single thing he came across. His heart sunk a bit. It was like bringing a wild, rabid animal in his companions’ vicinity, but he had to trust his judgement for the time being, and Hades as well… Right now, the young man was harmlessly going around, fiddling with some objects he’d find and earning confused glances from one or two people nearby. It was like watching a child toddle about, discovering the world for the first time… The thought almost startled the Swordsman. What a strange comparison to make. A child was innocent in every way possible, yet he was convinced Hades had not a single ounce of innocence in him. His parentage made it impossible, he thought; someone descending from a person as wicked and despicable as Griffith could be nothing but evil and rotten themselves… Right? Moreover, a demon couldn’t possibly be good in any way, shape or form, and yet… There was Hades, looking around as if he’d just been born yesterday. Awed, intrigued, neither reminiscing about the past nor scheming about the future, eager to learn and to live, the bright light of the mid-day sun making him shine, almost like a little angel.

… It had to be a trick. Yes, this was nothing more than an attempt to soften him and strike him at his weakest!

… No. No, that was not it. Then what was it? Why was this creature behaving in ways that seemed so counter-intuitive, so against its own nature? Why did it look and feel so…

Guts didn’t dare finish that dangerous thought.

◇

Hades had wandered a bit out of sight, walking over to a small stream not too far off from the campsite. He crouched down and cupped some of the fresh running water to drink, but then he noticed Isma washing herself up ahead in the stream, and consequently spit the water that was in his mouth back out. He was about to look for another water source when the merrow noticed him, and hopped in his direction. Hades initially tried to take a step back, but the girl was in his face before he could think about retreat.

“Hades, am I right? It’s nice to have a new face around! Not that I don’t like the others, but novelty never really hurt anyone, yeah?” She started, sounding obviously excited, her voice loud and clear.

Hades, looking a bit like a spooked bird, was leaning the slightest bit away from her, surprised by her energy. Isma was beaming.

“Woah, your eyes are so blue! Like the sky on a bright sunny day!” She looked up, almost as if to check if her comparison fit. “Just like today, actually… My hair is also blue! But not the same blue.”

“No, not the same blue indeed…” Hades agreed, fighting off his initial awkwardness. His voice was smooth, maybe a bit deeper than one would expect for a man that looked as he did, and pleasant to listen to. Isma looked happy to have coaxed a response out of him, even if it had been short.

“I wonder what colour yours is, hm?” She tilted her head, a playful gleam in her eyes. “I see some white strands here.” She remarked, pointing at Hades’ forehead. “Never seen natural white hair before. I bet you’re wearing a wig, aren’t you?” She chuckled.

Hades shook his head, “No, no it’s my real hair.” he argued calmly. “Yours is blue, why would it be so strange that mine is white?”

“Well, because I’ve never seen it before.” Isma replied, leaning a bit closer, curious as to where this was going.

“And I have never seen blue hair before… Yet I didn’t assume yours was a wig-” Hades continued, while the half-merrow rolled her eyes.

“I guess there’s only one way to check, huh?” Then, with an impish cackle, she snatched the scarf off of Hades’ head, freeing the tangled mane of white hair underneath.

Despite the numerous knots, it shone brightly, the sun illuminating the wild white strands and giving them an almost ethereal aspect. To Isma, Hades’ hair looked like a little cluster of clouds, and it left her completely entranced.

“… Can I brush it?!” She exclaimed, tossing the scarf away.

Hades, still trying to recover from her bold move, seemed a tiny bit alarmed at the idea. “Wh- Huh? Why would you- brush it?”

“Oh come on! I promise I’ll just be a minute!” Isma said, eyes pleading, hands clasped together.

“I don’t know, why would you need to brush my hair at all-?!” Hades argued, arms coming up around his head, almost to protect his hair from the merrow’s sudden scrutiny.

“It looks crusty and tangled up- oh please!!” Isma insisted, while Hades huffed.

“It is not crusty, woman!” He argued, huffing, while the half-merrow kept pleading.

“Please please please come on it’ll be so satisfying!!”

Eventually, Hades gave in, allowing her to try taking care of his hair. After fetching a bone-carved comb, she pretty much dragged him in the shallow stream, not caring if it drenched his clothes in water. He would’ve protested, but seeing how invested Isma was, he knew it would be pretty much… Pointless. He just sighed quietly, accepting his fate, and let her fuss about his hair…

The task proved to be much more difficult than Isma had initially thought. Hades’ hair looked like it had never been brushed. She found small twigs and leaves stuck inside the knots -but no bugs, thankfully- and it seemed to somehow have become water-resistant. Frustrated but determined, she took one fistful of hair after the other, straining against the knots with all her might. When a particularly rough tug would hurt Hades’ scalp, the young man would let slip an angry sounding, bird-like screech in protest, but Isma did not seem keen on giving up or taking breaks. Wetting the comb did help somewhat, but she soon noticed that the object would not go past the first layer of knots, the strands beneath too tangled to yield. She considered calling Guts to help with the task, but fearing that the Swordsman’s strength might rip Hades’ scalp off altogether, she tried to think of something else. She temporarily hopped out of the water and fetched an unattended knife before coming back to the young man’s side who, alarmed by the sight of the weapon, attempted to backtrack. Isma chased after him, held him back, tried to soothe his screeches of protest by promising she would not actually cut his hair, and that the knife was merely a way for her to work through the most stubborn knots. The commotion had caught the attention of the rest of the party, who had all paused their various activities to watch what could possibly be going on. Seeing Isma wrestle Hades like he was a feral cat refusing to be bathed, some of them quietly chuckled. Guts, too, observed the ordeal, less amused than the rest and more focused on making sure the situation didn’t escalate. After some more struggling, the merrow finally managed to get Hades to settle -although he’d glare at her every chance he got-, and was starting to snap the knots in his mane open.

It was probably late afternoon by the time Isma was done untangling this mess. Hades had removed his clothes to let them dry in the nearby sunlight, but seemed completely unbothered by the fact he -or Isma- was naked. Letting out a triumphant giggle, Isma put down the knife and comb, signalling she’d won her little impromptu war against Hades’ army of knots. The young man, for his part, dipped his head in the water and washed his hair, grumbling and quietly complaining about his hurting scalp… But went completely silent as he ran a hand through the untangled strands for the first time. His fingers fiddled with their smooth texture, watching as they slipped from his palm or shoulders like long threads of silk, completely mesmerized by the way they glistened under the sunlight. For the first time… Ever, probably, he also noticed just how long his hair was, and how there wasn’t a single strand shorter than the other. Their tip reached just the end of his spine, covering the entirety of his back in a curtain of soft, shiny threads, and they weren’t even dry yet. He felt both thrilled and embarrassed that he found his hair pretty like this. He cleared his throat in an effort to regain some composure, and turned back to Isma, who looked both exhausted and undeniably proud of herself.

“… Well, thank you, I guess.” Hades mumbled, to which the merrow chuckled.

“You’re very welcome. Isn’t that better? Doesn’t your head feel fresh, light and unburdened?” She added, emphasizing her words with a gesture of the hand.

“It… Yes, it does.” Hades admitted. “It’s never felt like this before…”

“Really? You really never took care of your hair, huh, mister wild animal? Or maybe you were just lazy with it, hmm?” She teased, crossing her arms.

“Hey, in my defence, hair-care isn’t exactly necessary for survival- and at night? I don’t even have hair.” Hades argued, but all in good faith.

“Oh do you now? What, do you loose your magnificent wig when going to sleep, perhaps?”

“I don’t- It’s not a wig!!” Hades argued again, a chuckle escaping him.

The two bantered for a little while after that, while the members of the party that had stayed to watch until the end finally started to withdraw. The two came out of the stream, getting dry and dressing back up, while Hades wondered if he shouldn’t, after all, try to shorten his hair. Those lengthy locks couldn’t be practical in action, unless he tied or braided them. He did seem to at least want to style the hair around his face, and borrowed a pair of scissors from Isma to do so. They were still quite wet, making it easier to manoeuvre the strands to his liking. He brought some that were connected to his forehead in front of his face, and was right about to cut them into simple bangs when someone snatched the pair of scissors away from him. Looking up, he noticed a very tense-looking Guts, pretty much towering over him, and suddenly felt like a child caught with their hand in a jar of sweets… Though he didn’t exactly know what he’d done wrong. Wordlessly, the Swordsman took a hold of the wet strands of hair himself, and in one swift movement, cut them, leaving Hades with side-swept -and also a bit wispy- bangs, before giving one snip or two to the adjacent hair, supposedly so it wouldn’t look too blocky. Guts then threw the scissors aside and stormed off, grumbling something inaudible under his breath.

Hades and Isma sat there, completely dumbfounded by the Swordsman’s sudden intervention. Saying this was unpredictable was certainly a huge understatement. Hades swallowed nervously, turning to the girl next to him.

“Does it look good…?” He quietly asked. She nodded vigorously.

“Oh yeah. Looks real good!” She agreed, the surprise on her face morphing into an amazed smile. “Never knew he was capable of cutting hair like that!”

“And so impulsively, too… I was scared I was going to have to chop it all off for a second, but-” He looked back into the small mirror between the two of them. “This looks far from hideous!”

Once dry, Hades’ hair took on a proper shape, some volume and gentle waves adorning the majestic-looking white mane. He was quite happy with the result, but also noticed Guts looked… Uncomfortable, for a reason that eluded him. He decided to wear the scarf around his head again, just in case, although the Swordsman stopped him, taking the piece of fabric from his hands. He gathered Hades’ hair into a ponytail instead, his face relaxing a bit at the new result. Still confused, Hades watched as he headed back to his tent, not elaborating any further on the matter.

Schierke watched, from afar, her heart aching with sympathy for the Swordsman. The resemblance was striking enough as it was, so of course he would want Hades to have a different hairstyle than… Him.

Chapter Text

The rest of the afternoon passed by quicker than anticipated, and soon enough it was night. The party gathered for dinner, Hades still clinging to Guts’ side like a lost child -much to the Swordsman’s annoyance- although he looked to be a bit more at ease around the others than earlier that day. Guts noticed that Isma was trying to make this impromptu addition to the party feel included; she made sure Hades had someone to converse with throughout the evening, and she even tried sharing a portion of her own meal with him, but Hades politely declined, insisting he had more than enough food for himself. Even if there was still some underlying tension in the air, everyone seemed relaxed enough to talk to each other, making the evening feel almost… Normal. That was good, Guts thought, his shoulders relaxing just a bit before he took a sip of his soup. It would allow everyone’s mind to stay clear, at the very least. His eyes then drifted to Hades, sitting there next to him, shoulder almost touching his armoured side. He was picking up from his portion of soup pieces of vegetables with his fingers, before bringing them to his mouth and chewing them thoughtfully, like… He had never eaten with anyone else present before. Occasionally, he’d go in to pick the pieces with his mouth as well, wiping his chin with the sleeve of his tunic afterwards. Guts couldn’t help but scoff. It was like watching a toddler clumsily eating puree, smearing the food everywhere on their cheeks and shirt. Although, he had to admit, Hades was a lot more put together than a toddler, even if he was eating with his hands. At least he didn’t have to spoon-feed him, unlike…

His eyelid twitched as the memory struck him – Casca, her dark gaze vacant and curious, allowing Schierke to feed her like a baby. His chest constricted painfully as the image came back to him, before a series of others flashed before his closed eyelid, each more gruesome than the last, the feeling of hurt and anger in his heart coiling and twisting like a snake before it crept up his spine, towards his neck, and finished its course in a stinging burn where the Brand of Sacrifice was. With a grunt, he smacked the back of his neck, palm covering the symbol. The movement caught Hades’ attention, and his eyes focused on the Swordsman curiously. Guts, upon noticing, huffed angrily and threw a spare spoon into his bowl of soup. Hades flinched slightly at the sudden movement, his brows furrowing in slight confusion.

“Use this. You’re not a fucking primitive, are you?” Guts grumbled angrily. He looked at Isma and nodded towards her. “She’ll teach you.”

He then sat up and headed back to his tent, isolating himself from the rest of the group to finish his meal in peace. Hades tensed up a bit, looking between Isma and the closed flap of Guts’ tent. It seems he didn’t appreciate being left alone with the others like that, but Isma quickly distracted him by showing him how to use the spoon to eat his soup. Seeing how everyone seemed relatively unperturbed by what just happened, Hades wondered aloud:

“Does he usually do this?”

“Storm off to eat on his own? Happens every once in a while.” Isidro replied with a shrug, while Puck munched on a squarish piece of carrot, sitting on his shoulder.

“Is there a reason for that…? Did I do something?” Hades asked, looking back again.

“Nah, don’t think so. Sometimes he just… Does that. Most of the time he refuses to explain why. Maybe he’s seen something he doesn’t like.” Isidro continued, nonchalantly downing the rest of his soup.

Schierke looked concerned, but she didn’t say anything.

◇

The rest of the evening went relatively calmly, before each party member headed towards their respective tents to rest. Hades, for his part, waited until he was sure everyone was inside their canvas walls to head towards a nearby tree. He removed his clothes once there, untyied his ponytail, and sat on the floor for a couple of minutes, waiting. Once the moon peeked over the horizon, he felt the familiar tingle of his skin and body hardening and darkening into its demonic form. He gave a tentative stretch, just to make sure everything was in place before he started climbing the tree, claws and talons digging firmly and expertly into the bark, hoisting him to the very top. The crisp air of the night glided over his muscles like water over smooth pebbles while he settled -as comfortably as he could manage-, ready for his first night as the night sentinel of the Black Swordsman’s party. He held his head up, taking in the smell of the air: fresh, earthy… Nothing strange there. His eyes raked over the camp and surrounding areas below, and so far everything was in order. It was a bit early into the night for demons to be out, anyway, but one can never be too careful when it comes to these. Hades quietly scolded himself for not thinking to mark the area, but he could always do that while on watch duty. He had to get a feel of the camp area first, and overlooking everything from his perch on the tree would suffice for the time being.

Hours slowly passed. Hades had only needed to fend off a stray wolf and a boar, both probably having been drawn in by the lingering scent of today’s dinner. Even then, the demon couldn’t help but feel a small sense of… Pride. The fact he was there, watching, guarding the campsite filled his chest with a warm feeling, which he could only guess was excitement. It reminded him of the time he’d managed to fend off a young bear that had taken an interest in his den. He remembered feeling confident, strong and proud of himself, and that memory only made him more determined to fulfil his night-watching mission. He’d be perfect. He’d be irreproachable. He’d keep the camp safe and make the Swordsman proud-

Woah.

Hades blinked, confused. Where did that thought come from? Make the Swordsman proud? Come on. You’re exaggerating here, Hades. This is an arrangement, you’re not trying to prove yourself or anything. You’re only here because you want to understand humans better, not…
Just focus now.

The demon took a deep breath, forcing his mind and senses to focus back on the surroundings. The night was calm and quiet, crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze… It was almost relaxing, overall, although Hades knew he couldn’t allow himself to lower his guard and lounge around.

The featherless wings on his back twitched as another soft gush of wind brushed against his back, images of birds soaring through the skies briefly flashing in his mind. He sighed, shaking his head. He knew he couldn’t fly. It was nothing but an idea, a wish… A dream. A frustrating one, maybe, but still one that was dear to him. No matter how many times he told himself that he would never be able to fly, that it was nothing but an unrealistic desire, a fancy his mind completely made up, that he would never grow wings or feathers; something, deep in his heart, deep in his soul, kept pushing. This little spark of what felt like hope, firmly embedded into his being, kept whispering alluring “what if”s to his mind. What if he could fly? What if he eventually did find a way to fly? What if he too took off, high, high into the bright blue sky; what if he too touched the clouds, felt the wind support and carry him, guide him through the air and…

… He couldn’t give that up. He couldn’t allow himself to loose that. He would persist. He would find a way. He, too, would fly.

◇

The first two thirds of the night passed slowly, and were absolutely uneventful. Hades felt both relieved and disappointed – it was reassuring that the party had been safe all night long, yet some action still would’ve been entertaining… He yawned, before climbing down the tree. He’d covered most of the night, as he’d agreed with Guts, and noticed Serpico coming out of his tent to come replace him. The poor man looked like he hadn’t slept a wink; he rubbed his eyes wearily and almost bumped into Hades, who’d come a little closer. He groaned slightly, flinching at the other’s proximity, visibly disoriented from his lack of sleep.

“Sorry Hades, I didn’t… see you there.” He said apologetically, voice raspy with exhaustion. He ran a hand over his face, but when his eyes landed on Hades, he flinched back, letting out an undignified yelp, face contorting in fear.

“… What?” Hades questioned, calmly. He seemed to be relatively unaware of the effect his demonic presence had on the other man.

“… N… Nothing.” Serpico whispered out, instinctively taking a step or two back.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The demon said, not realising his voice rang in Serpico’s ears like an out of tune acoustic bass. He saw the blond man’s hands shake slightly, and noticed how his breath hitched. “What’s wrong? Had a nightmare?” He wondered, with the faintest hint of concern. “Oh! Are you perhaps just nervous about night-watching?” He continued, taking a step closer towards Serpico. The poor man was frozen in place. “Don’t worry,” Hades went on, sounding a bit more cheerful, “it’s pretty calm tonight. You’ll do fine. Although maybe you should wear darker clothes next time, it’ll allow you to blend in with the night better. That white cape makes you stand out a bit too much-”

As he reached to get a feel of the fabric of Serpico’s cape, the blond man swatted his hand away before he could touch it, and quickly escaped his line of sight, running off into the forest. Hades, surprised and confused, was about to go after him, but reconsidered. Serpico was trying to get away from him, so chasing him down certainly was not a good idea. He took a couple of seconds to think, and eventually, he went over to Guts’ tent, quietly gliding like a shadow as to not wake the others. He stood there in the corner, eyes focused on the imposing frame of the Swordsman laying down in his bedroll with undeniable weariness.

“… Guts?” He called out after a moment.

The large man “flinched awake”, although he’d not been sleeping in the first place. His lone eye searched the darkness of the tent, the only light being a thin pale ray of moonlight filtering through the slight opening of the tent’s flap. Hades, standing in the darkest corner of the Swordsman’s tent, had his presence reduced to an ominous pair of piercing blue eyes.

“The hell you want?” Guts grumbled, annoyed at the intrusion into his tent. He sat up, muscles protesting at the movement, and looked back at Hades, almost defiantly.

“It’s Serpico.” The demon started. “He was coming to replace me but he fled into the forest instead.”

Guts, now more alert, stood up. “He what? Why?” He asked, brows furrowed in both confusion and subtle worry.

“… I think he got scared…” Hades commented “… Of me.”

Guts sighed heavily. “Of course…” He grumbled.

But what to do now? Should he wait for Serpico to calm down on his own and come back, or should he go ahead and search for him to bring him back to camp himself? That would mean leaving Hades with the rest of the band… The thought made him grit his teeth. He didn’t trust Hades enough to leave him with the others in the dead of the night, while they were all so vulnerable, but he also didn’t want to leave Serpico alone in the forest, considering the man was probably afraid and not thinking too rationally. In both cases, anything could happen, and it infuriated the Swordsman. He didn’t want the party to be at the mercy of a demon, but he didn’t want Serpico to be at the mercy of the forest either…

“I’ll go get him.” He finally decided, walking out of the tent almost immediately.

Hades followed him for a little while, trotting like a little chick behind a mother hen, but when Guts walked into the forest he stopped, and waited. The Swordsman glanced back at him once, a bit puzzled by the way he was standing there at the edge of the forest and -gods, those blue eyes were as unnerving as ever!- seemingly waiting for his return. He huffed and focused on the matter at hand, picking up the pace and calling out Serpico’s name. Strangely enough, he found the man in the clearing where he’d first met Hades, leaning against the pine tree to catch his breath. Upon seeing Guts, he quickly tried to gather himself, and even though he was trying to appear nonchalant, there was an undeniable hint of relief in the blonde man’s eyes as they landed on the familiar figure of the Swordsman.

“Ah, Guts! Sorry, I just needed… A bit of fresh air, I got… A nasty scare and uh…”

“Yeah, I know.” Guts grumbled in response. “It’s not like you to run away like that. What you saw really must’ve made you shit your pants, huh?”

“I mean-” Serpico sighed, rubbing his eyes. “No, not like that, I just… I have no idea what came over me. I felt… Like a rabbit being chased down by an eagle.” He took another deep breath, before going back to the Swordsman’s side. “I’m sorry. I really am. It won’t happen again. That was uncharacteristically cowardly of me…”

The Swordsman shook his head. He was about to give his shoulder a friendly tap but refrained from doing so. “It’s fine. You’re alive, at least.” He replied, before the two of them started walking back towards the campsite. “So what did you see?” He asked next.

Serpico shivered and shook his head. “A demon, for sure.”

“Mh.”

The pair stayed quiet for the rest of their walk. As they neared the camp again, Guts went ahead and stood in front of Hades, blocking him from Serpico’s sight. The blonde man seemed eager to go back to his tent, forgetting about night-watching altogether. Once they were alone, the Swordsman turned back towards the demon.

“What did you do?” He asked, his tone holding a barely-concealed hint of reproach.

Hades blinked, a bit confused. “What did I do? Well… Nothing special. I came down from the tree and went over to greet him. Uhm… I said he might want to put on darker clothes next time because his white cape was very visible at night and that’s about it.” He replied calmly.

Guts muttered something under his breath, but he seemed to believe him at the very least. “Right… So nothing crazy.” He went quiet for a couple of seconds, seemingly thinking of a way to resolve the issue at hand. “If everyone scrams when they see you at night, that’s gonna be an issue…” Hades nodded, agreeing. Guts crossed his arms and continued. “I might need you to do all the night-watching instead of taking rounds with the others then, to avoid them seeing you like that. And if you’re really too tired sometimes I’ll replace you. Sounds about right?”

The demon nodded once more. “Yeah, fine by me. I didn’t… Know people would react like that to seeing me. It’s best if no one runs into the forest at night again, huh?”

“That’s right.” Guts confirmed, a bit more relaxed now that things were fixed. “You get to sleep mornings to catch up, but I need you up by lunch, got it?”

Hades gave one last nod, complying with Guts’ demands, before he took up his position atop of the tree once more. The Swordsman watched him do so, a spark of confusing feelings stirring his chest. On the one hand, he was glad the demon wasn’t being demanding or fussy and understood simple, necessary commands, but on the other it was so unlike how he’d expected Hades to behave that he couldn’t help but feel it had to be some sort of trick. Surely someone sharing… His blood would find it insufferable to be under someone else’s orders eventually, right? Hades might just be trying to gain his trust to screw him over later, playing the role of an obedient and timid little new recruit, only to strike them all at their most vulnerable… The thought itself made him clench his teeth again, but he forced the thoughts out of his mind. It was best to focus on the present.

He turned around and walked through the campsite, quietly inspecting the tents and belongings… It seems everything was in place. He could hear the faint breaths of his comrades, and all seemed fine. Hades had not attacked like he feared. He released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding before heading back towards his own tent, where he laid back down on his bedroll. He knew sleep wouldn’t come, but at the very least, he was not worried anymore.

When morning finally came, it was glaringly obvious no one had slept. Everyone cursed at the rising sun, and sluggish arms struggled to make breakfast. Hades was gone from the top of the tree, resting in his own tent. Seeing the general state of exhaustion, Guts, who had planned to move camp this morning, begrudgingly accepted to postpone the party’s move, even if it was not ideal. They’d stayed where they were for long enough, but with Hades now keeping an eye on their surroundings, maybe, just maybe, staying for another day wouldn’t hurt. This little infringement of their usual schedule did not please the Swordsman, of course, and he would occasionally rant about it throughout the day, annoyed and maybe a bit anxious -though he would never admit it aloud- at risking vulnerability in the face of the Apostles forever chasing him down.

Hades, for his part, woke up around lunch time, as expected, and joined the party to eat. Serpico, his mind clear and now completely at ease after last night’s incident, eyed the blue-eyed young man closely. He felt a certain sense of familiarity between him and the demon of last night, and of course, since Guts had said Hades would be the one night-watching from now on, there was little reason to doubt that the young man eating with them now was the same being as the one that had scared him last night. And yet, Serpico had a hard time reconciling the demon and the human Hades, his mind insisting on the fact that the two versions of the young man he’d seen made no sense. He tried to convince himself that yes, the demon and the human were in fact the same person, but to no avail, and by the time the party had finished eating, he was persuaded that they were two separate people.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was spent both relaxing and preparing for next day’s move. Everyone was packing up, much to Hades’ confusion. He went to find Guts, looking for some explanations.

“What’s everyone doing?” He asked, looking up at the imposing Swordsman after finding him preparing the food for the road ahead.
Guts raised an eyebrow and looked back at Hades, as if he hadn’t expected the young man to not know they were moving camp.

“… We’re packing up, why?”

Hades blinked, confused, and maybe a tad bit anxious. “Packing up? Why? For what?”

“We’re moving, Hades.” Guts said, while he tied shut a bag full of vegetables.

“Moving?!” The young man exclaimed, a bit more loudly than he would’ve liked. “Moving where? What for?? Did something happen- What-”

“Woah, hey, calm down-” The Swordsman mumbled, turning to face him better. “What’s gotten into you? Yeah, we’re moving, it’s not a big deal.” He looked confused. Why was Hades reacting so strongly to the idea of moving camp?

“Not a big deal?!” Hades repeated, appalled, his confusion turning into annoyance. “It’s not normal to move! Moving means there’s danger and- I’ve never had to move, I don’t see the problem with my forest or the clearing!”

Ah, that explained it… Guts cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to reassure the other.

“No, no it’s perfectly normal for a party to be on the move. And nothing’s wrong with your forest, I can promise you that. It’s quite a nice place. But you’re right about one thing: moving means there’s danger around. I can’t afford to stay in one place for too long. I must move if I want to keep everyone safe. You understand?”

Hades sputtered a bit. “R-right, yeah, danger, I get it you have to stay safe but-! My forest… My clearing, my den- you’re saying I’m leaving all that behind?!”

Guts felt both confused and a little sympathetic at Hades’ sudden distress. The young man had said it himself; he’d never moved from here. It must be troubling to suddenly have to just up and go like that.

“I- you’re not leaving it behind. It’s…” Guts grumbled. He wasn’t good at comforting people. “Look, we’ll come back, okay? Not… Soon, but eventually we’ll circle back and settle in the forest again. It’s a good spot. But we still have to move and find somewhere else for the time being, yeah?”

Hades reluctantly nodded, looking to the side. A couple of tears had welled up in his blue eyes, which surprised Guts, but before he could address it, Hades turned around and walked towards the forest.

“If you’ve got anything back there, take it with you.” He added, to which Hades replied affirmatively with a simple gesture of the hand.

The Swordsman sighed. He felt a tiny bit guilty for dragging Hades away from his home like that, but he knew very well it was the safest option, even more so now that Hades had been in contact with him. If he left the young man behind, the Apostles would give him hell, and there was no way to guess if Hades would reveal the direction the party took or not. No, it was best if Hades came along. Hopefully he’d enjoy travelling, and seeing new surroundings…

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the party was almost ready to go. They would pack up the tents in the morning, and for now they focused on getting as much rest as possible. Schierke, for her part, was lying awake in her bedroll, unable to close her eyes. She could faintly hear Ivalera snoring, fast asleep on the pillow next to her, but focusing on the fairy’s small breaths didn’t help the young which fall asleep herself. She felt hyper-aware of every little sound beyond the canvas walls of her tent, and her whole body tensed up every time she heard a branch creaking. She knew it was probably just Hades… But that was what was keeping her awake, actually. Hades. The demon. Out there, prowling the night, probably waiting for the ideal moment to strike them all down. She had a hard time trusting him, even though she knew Guts was there to intervene if things got out of control. But for the sake of her own peace of mind, she quietly got up, grabbed her staff, and snuck outside, in the dark night…

Meanwhile, seeing how uneventful the night was once again, Hades, while the moon was still high up in the sky, climbed down from his perch in the tree and decided to patrol the surroundings on foot for a little while. He took the opportunity to mark the area, scribbling his symbol on a couple of trees, and rubbing his cheek onto them afterwards, to plaster his scent onto the bark. He still moved a bit clumsily on the soft, grassy dirt, the thick and deadly talons on his avian feet sinking into the soil with every step. It was like trying to navigate a muddy terrain, with your feet sinking into the ground every time you moved. Hades was a lot more used to climbing trees and grabbing branches, or even perching anywhere that was a bit above the ground. But he couldn’t know for sure if there would be trees the next time Guts decided to set up camp, so he tried getting used to wobbling about the terrain, even if that occasionally made him go off balance. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t focused on surveying the area. Fortunately, despite his wobbly steps, his head was forever steady, making him appear even more like an animal than a man.

Schierke, hiding behind one of the trees a couple of meters away, observed Hades’ strange behaviour. She had never voluntarily spent time around demons before -who in their right mind would, anyway??- but seeing how he behaved, a bit like an animal, strangely reassured her. This gave Hades a sort of… Predicability. Animals weren’t that hard to read. Anyone could easily guess what their intentions were based off a few visual clues and noises… And she hoped that it would be the same for the demon here. She hoped that if Hades intended on attacking, he would screech, or if he felt at ease, that he would coo, or purr, or whatever that was he did-

She took a deep breath and got a bit closer, but made sure to stay hidden and out of his sight for the time being. Hades seemed focused on something to his right, and was completely immobile. His back was turned to the young witch as he hunched slightly. Was he… Hunting something? It sure looked like it, anyway. Schierke gripped her staff tighter. Then a little white rabbit hopped out of a nearby bush, and no sooner had it lifted its little nose into the air than Hades struck it, rapidly crouching down, teeth snapping around its little neck. Precise, efficient, and without a drop of blood spilled. He stood straight again, gathering the rabbit in his hands and inspecting it, before he tentatively nipped its side. He let out a short, low hum of appreciation, before he sat down and started skinning it, using his claws, teeth, and sharp, beak-like nose. Schierke didn’t exactly know how to feel about all of that. It was obvious to her that the demon was dangerous, a skilled hunter and predator, and yet he was skinning that rabbit so carefully, like he was allowing himself a midnight snack. It felt so mundane, so unlike the image she had of demons… It was hard to process. So hard in fact, that her body moved on its own, and she stepped out of her hiding spot, and with a determined frown, called out to him.

“Hey!”

Her voice rang out almost unnaturally in the quiet of the night, but Hades seemed unperturbed as he looked up, thoughtfully chewing on one of the rabbit’s legs.

“Yeah?”

“…”

Schierke had no idea what to say, or even do. There sat Hades, in his demonic form, at ease, unperturbed… The young witch’s mind felt like a jumbled mess of thoughts she couldn’t quite grasp. She wanted to feel disgusted, and aggressive, she wanted to get rid of the threat that Hades posed, she wanted to be angry at him, she wanted to feel something but-

She didn’t.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her defensive stance relaxing. “That’s your idea of night-watching?” she grumbled, nodding towards the now skinned rabbit.

“Uh-” Hades glanced down at it as well. “No, I was just- having a snack.”

“Having a snack?” she huffed in something that looked like disdain. “And what if something shows up?”

“Well I’ll be up and ready to attack-” Hades replied calmly. He looked quite confused.

“Shut up!” Schierke shouted, making the demon cock his head in more confusion. “Don’t look at me like that!!” she exclaimed again.

“What did I do??” Hades argued.

“Nothing! Nothing, and that’s the problem!” Schierke replied, pointing her staff in his direction, threateningly.

“…” Hades still looked confused, but not defensive anymore.

Schierke let out a heavy sigh, and went to sit not too far off from him, an annoyed frown creasing her brow. “I don’t understand. You had plenty of opportunities to eat us all, and yet you didn’t! That’s not what demons do, that’s not normal! So why? What’s up with you??”

Hades blinked twice.

“… Because I don’t want to?”

Schierke’s breath caught in her throat at his reply, and her head whipped up to look at Hades. She was dumbfounded.

“You… Don’t want to. HA! You’re lying. I know you are. That’s not true.”

“Wh-” Hades shrugged, still very much taken aback by the witch’s attitude towards him. “I’m not? Why would I lie about that?”

“To screw us over better!!” Schierke argued, pointing a finger in his direction.

“What are you on about?” Hades cawed out, unintentionally riling her up even more.

“You’re hiding something!! You’re hiding something, I just know it! You’ll only bring in bad luck and you’ll just kill everyone,, and you just manipulated Guts with your sweet words, just like- just like-!!”

Schierke’s words then died at the tip of her tongue. In her short fit, she’d scooted closer to Hades, and she could see him better now. The demon’s eyes were more piercing than she’d anticipated, and yet, she could feel no ill intent coming from them. Not in his eyes, not in the curve of his lips, nor his hands or his claws, and that… Perturbed her.

“I… uh…”

She sat back as to not be all up in his personal space anymore, but her eyes didn’t leave him. Hades was a demon, but not a demon like any she’d seen before. She didn’t know how to feel. Curious? Angry? Embarrassed? Maybe all of this at once. Regardless, she felt as if what she’d assumed about Hades… Was false.
She shook her head. She couldn’t get too comfortable with that idea. The tables could still be turned, and they could all still get screwed over if Hades wished so. But for tonight, she felt inclined to push her suspicions aside… If only for a moment.

Sensing Schierke had calmed down, Hades pried another piece of meat off of the rabbit in his hands, enjoying the taste of the fresh kill. The young witch watched him do so, her mind now running wild with new questions.

“… You… Can eat it raw?” She asked. She didn’t really know why she did.

“Mhm.” Hades hummed in confirmation. “Rabbits, boars, deer… Vegetables, too. But not as much. I really like fish, though. I loved the grilled one Guts gave me, too, I had no idea you could do that with meat.”

Schierke blinked. “You… Didn’t know meat could be… Cooked?”

“No.” Hades confirmed, shaking his head. “It’s pretty neat.”

“… Uh, yeah, neat…” Schierke cleared her throat.

“Say, how come you’re not scared?” Hades asked in turn.

“Hm? Scared? Of you?”

“Yes. When Serpico saw me, he dashed off like a frightened doe. I’m not saying you should be scared of me I just- don’t understand why he was scared and you aren’t-” Hades’ curious eyes were on her now, closely evaluating her reaction.

“Uhm, well… I don’t know. I don’t feel scared. Honestly, I’m just as surprised as you are. I have no idea what it could be.” The young witch replied, which was true. She hadn’t thought of that before, but she truly didn’t feel scared of Hades. He was just like any other guy to her.

“Oh. Well.” Hades shrugged. He didn’t seem bothered by that at all, which was strange. Didn’t demons want to be feared?

“Can I show you something?” He piped up after a beat of silence, his gaze gaining in both focus and intensity. This made Schierke tense up a tiny bit.

“… I suppose you can.” She replied, wary, but also paying close attention. What if Hades revealed something important?

The demon put the rabbit on his lap while he reached inside a bag at his side, a bag which Schierke had not noticed before. He pulled out little sheets of what looked like paper and presented them to her.

“Do you think you can tell me what the structure is like? I’ve tried to figure it out but with all those feathers I get confused pretty quickly.”

The young witch summoned a small flame in the palm of her hand, for some light, and took a closer look at the sheets of paper. She was surprised to see drawings…

“… Bird wings?” She questioned, glancing back up at the demon. Hades nodded, looking at her expectantly. “The structure of bird wings… Under the feathers.” Well. This shouldn’t be too complicated to explain…
“Wings are like arms.” She started. “You have the equivalent of a shoulder, and elbow, and a wrist. Bats have long fingers as well. And…” She looked around, and grabbed a couple of twigs, fashioning them in a sort of ‘\/\’ shape. “It looks a little like that. Realistically speaking, that part should be a lot shorter but well- and, uh, the wing moves like this.”
She manoeuvred the sticks to mimic the movement of a wing. “But of course this is just the “bone”, and around it you have flesh and muscle, and then the feathers grow from it. Each feather has a particular role in a bird’s flight and … I don’t know them by heart, but I’d say that’s about it.”

She looked back up at Hades, and was surprised to see that his eyes were wide with both curiosity and something that looked like realisation. His mouth was slightly agape, and he glanced over his shoulder. The young witch raised a confused eyebrow, until she saw something peek from under Hades’ membrane-like cape.

“… Like this?” He whispered, in an almost conspirational tone, pointing at one of the two little fleshy limb protruding from his back.

“… Yeah, like this. Those are wings.” She confirmed, her voice somewhere between confused and incredulous. Hades had wings? She hadn’t noticed.

The demon, for his part, was frozen on the spot, seemingly processing a sudden surge of intense emotions, not that Schierke understood any of it. He looked back at her.

“You’re… You’re serious?” He didn’t let her reply. His hands flew to her shoulders, gripping them firmly, but not painfully so, almost as if he needed something to anchor himself. “Schierke it’s very important that you tell me the truth right now-”

The young witch was a bit startled by his sudden attitude, but she stood her ground. “I’m not lying. Those are wings. Featherless, but wings. You can let me go now.”

Noticing he was indeed grasping her shoulders, Hades released his hold onto them, but his hands hovered near still. He seemed torn between not believing her, and another sentiment that she couldn’t quite make out. She was confused as to why he was reacting this way.

“You’re… You’re serious. They are.” he whispered, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah. Yeah, they are. What, you didn’t know they were…?”

“No.” He shook his head. “No I had no idea…”

The young witch noticed his pupils had gotten wider, but before she could ask anything about it, Hades abruptly stood up, hands thrown towards the sky, and he just had the time to stifle what she assumed would’ve been a triumphant shout. Instead, a short squeak slipped out. Hades then paced around, crouched up and down, rolled on the floor… He looked… Ecstatic. But he refrained from expressing his newfound joy too loudly, for the others were still sleeping. Schierke observed this bizarre spectacle of the demon getting “the zoomies”, watching him do a couple cartwheels, biting down on his knuckles to stop himself from squawking loudly, or even whisper-shouting a little “no fucking way”. She did not really know where to put herself. It was more than obvious that Hades was absolutely delighted by the news he’d just heard, although she had yet to figure out why to this extreme extent. He was overjoyed. But she guessed anyone would be sort of excited to learn they had wings this whole time…

“… I’ll uh, go back to sleep, alright?” She piped up after a moment. Hades scrambled back to his feet and dusted himself off, looking a bit embarrassed to have reacted as he did.

“Uhm- yes. Thank you for your time. Good night.” He replied, watching her walk back towards her tent, before he gathered his sheets of paper and put them back in his travel bag. He then enthusiastically bit down into the rabbit again, trying to channel his bubbling excitement.

Schierke was relieved to see that Ivalera -or anyone else for that matter- had not woken up while she was out there with Hades. She laid back down into her bedroll, her mind reeling with the short succession of events that had occurred. She felt… She couldn’t say she felt reassured, no, it wasn’t exactly that. But she definitely didn’t feel as hostile towards Hades anymore. She should keep her guard up, of course, but he had managed, somehow, to reach past her defences tonight. She didn’t know how. She hoped it did not mean anything dangerous. Maybe it was the curiosity in his blue eyes, this weird, pure-looking excitement he’d exhibited when she told him about his wings… Or maybe it was the strangely endearing way his pale face was framed in the shape of a heart by his dark, demonic skin.

◇

The Dragonslayer swung left and right, Guts’ arms straining against the many arms creeping up the giant gash in the earth below his feet. The mindless limbs crawled endlessly towards him, contorting in unnatural ways, but he kept fending them off, the metal of his giant sword turning a dark crimson colour with every new splatter of blood falling onto it. The sky above was pitch black, swirling and morphing into indistinct shapes while the voices of tortured souls wailed and screeched. This was hell. Of course it was. But he might as well call this hell his second home now… He swung the Dragonslayer again. From the stump he’d just cut off, two more hands sprouted with an ugly squelch and a sputter of pitch-black blood. He took steps back, straining against the hands grasping at his ankles. He pushed back against those threatening to break through his armour. He sliced through the ones going for his throat… And then one of the hands stood out to him. Struggling against the swarm of others, like a man drowning, it was reaching up, until the man attached to it revealed himself. Guts’ heart sank far below his stomach, straight into the earth at his feet.

“Captain!! Captain, help-!!”

He’d recognize this voice anywhere. Hell, he’d recognize the voice of any of his comrades, even after all this time.

“Judeau!! Hold on, I’ll get you!!”

He shouted himself, his voice straining against his throat like a rock on a piece of leather. He reached forward towards his comrade’s hand, but the wall of limbs insisted on keeping them apart. With newfound vigour, Guts pushed and broke past the arms and hands seeking to have a hold of him, and finally he grasped Judeau’s own. Straining some more, he brought his comrade closer, the other holding onto his arms to hoist himself forth as well. But as soon as he gathered Judeau in his arms, the mercenary’s body strained and shifted. His skin started to shed, bleeding off of him like a mere piece of fabric. The muscle beneath melted into a pool of blood as his screams of agony rang painfully in Guts’ ears, worms pierced through the mushy texture and coiled in his skull, pushing his eyes out of their orbits, as finally Judeau’s skeleton fell to pieces in Guts’ grasp, decayed to ash. The Swordsman screamed incoherently, frantically trying to hold onto his fallen comrade’s remains…
The hands finally engulfed him.

◇

He felt… Heavy. Crushed by the weight of his own chest. Opening his eye was nothing short of a chore but he did nonetheless, his instinct to fight slowly returning to him. He wobbled, hands padding around for the Dragonslayer… But they only felt grass. The Swordsman’s eye focused, taking in the sudden change of scenery. He was laying on a grassy hilltop; the sky was bright, and blue, and the sun shone and cast a warm glow onto the surrounding plains, which seemed to stretch endlessly. Colourful little wildflowers danced in a warm spring’s breeze, and thick white clouds drifted calmly above his head. He was… Confused. Had he escaped the nightmarish landscape to come here, or had something taken him…? He sat up, his muscles protesting against the movement, and noticed the Dragonslayer laying in the grass nearby. Even the sword looked peaceful. He grabbed it nonetheless, planted it vertically in the ground and used it to help hoist himself up to his feet. A short wave of dizziness overcame him as he stood upright, but it seemed to vanish as the next gush of wind blew over his face. The landscape was… Beautiful. He had to admit it. Maybe he could sit down and… Relax… For a little while…

He flinched when a stronger gush of wind passed right above his head, and he raised the Dragonslayer when he noticed a giant figure flying up in the sky. He heard laughter coming from it… Clear, and joyful. His brows furrowed in confusion, and when he noticed a familiar mane of white hair floating in the wind, he was about to dash forth… But then he recognized Hades, and he sort of relaxed. Hades, soaring through the skies, laughing and radiating joy and bliss. The young man made loops and circles high up in the sky for a moment, before he dove back down, and landed right in front of the Swordsman. He noticed he was dressed in a simple white robe, hair free and shining under the sunlight. Two, large and soft looking wings sprouted from his back, the underside presenting a cream-like colour while the top had hues of browns and oranges. The young man seemed delighted, and was smiling from ear to ear, blue eyes sparkling with delight.

… He looked radiant.

“So? What do you think?” Hades mused, doing a slow spin in front of Guts, showing off his beautiful wings.

“… They’re… Nice. Very nice.” The Swordsman replied. This whole situation almost made him feel emotional. Almost.

Hades giggled. “They’re so pretty… And soft, too! I don’t think I’ll every get tired of them…” He commented, while running his hands over the soft feathers. “Can you believe it? I can finally fly…! I can finally reach the clouds!!” He laughed again, and his smile only widened, joy spilling from his words in small, steady, and sparkling streams. “It feels like freedom. No more being stuck the branches in the trees, no no sir! I can finally take off and fly on my own! That is it- That is all I ever wanted!” He exclaimed. “My dearest dream…”

Guts smiled.

In spite of himself, he smiled. He couldn’t help but feel happy for Hades. It was hard not to smile with him, anyway. “Yeah… It’s quite nice, huh? Seems you’re having a lot of fun.” He reached out with his hand, his calloused fingers running over Hades’ feathers. His thick skin could barely pick up on their softness, but it didn’t matter. It had been so long since he’d seen something so pure, a desire so simple be fulfilled, that it almost brought tears to his eyes. He, too, needed this. He needed to be reminded that there were still people who desired only happiness; people whose intentions were pure, and people who would not sully their hands with the blood of others to achieve their dreams. He wanted to cling to Hades’ joy, to stay on the grassy hilltop and let his body decay right then and there, holding onto this strange, newfound hope.

Hades turned back to look at him one last time, offering him a bright, toothy, and happy smile.

Chapter Text

Guts stirred awake. A thin ray of morning sunlight peeked through the flap of his tent, landing right on his cheek. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face, hoping to brush away the lingering feeling of grogginess. A couple of images from his dream came back to him, though the most prominent one was that of the grassy hills. The sense of peace attached to it was hard to shake off, and he found himself briefly longing to go back. But the ache in his muscles forced his mind back to reality. He pushed himself up, groaning slightly. He had to get everyone on the move. Hopefully he had not slept in too much… With a huff, he stood up, and walked out of his tent; The first thing he saw was Puck greeting him, fluttering about his head before going back to Isidro’s side. He grumbled a ‘good morning’ of his own, before he looked over at the campsite. Most tents were packed up, but Hades’ one was still up. Guts walked over there, assuming the young man was still sleeping, but when he opened the tent flap, his greeting caught in his throat.

Hades was sitting there, sobbing in a corner, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. The Swordsman was very much taken aback, and struggled to find the right thing to say. Fortunately, it’s Hades who broke the silence first, when he noticed Guts standing at the entrance of his tent.

“Oh- you- shit-” he sputtered, trying to wipe the tears off of his flushed cheeks with the palm of his hands. “I-I don’t know why it’s doing that- I woke up and it just started pouring out a-and-”

“It’s fine.” Guts said, going to sit down beside him, although not too close. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know!” Hades replied, torn between looking up at the Swordsman and away from him to hide his tears. “It- the water just started coming out of my eyes when I woke up!”

Guts blinked, brows furrowing in confusion. The way Hades had said it bugged him. “You… The water just started coming out? What do you mean?”

“This!” He gestured to his tears. “I don’t know what that is, why my eyes are doing that- is it normal? I can’t stop it, it’s horrible!” He wailed with a hint of panic.

“… You’re crying.” Guts stated, calm but still taken aback. “It’s… Normal. It happens. You’re telling me you never cried before?”

“No! No, that’s never…” Hades sniffled, letting out a frustrated groan. “I mean never like that!” He tried wiping the tears off again, more forcefully this time, but Guts held his wrist back gently.

“Calm down, will you?” He said, still trying to figure out how to get Hades to properly calm down. He didn’t really understand why he was, but he felt uncharacteristically tender this morning, for a reason that eluded him. “Just tell me what’s going on, yeah? How do you feel?”

“Horrible.” Hades sniffled. “I had the best dream of my life and- and then I woke up and it wasn’t real and it was horrible!!” He added.

“Uh… Right. And what was going on in that dream?” Guts asked next, fighting off his awkwardness to get to the bottom of this.

Hades took a couple of seconds to try and compose himself. His tears weren’t flowing as wildly anymore. “I was… I was flying.” He started, his voice a bit raspy from both the crying and waking up not too long ago. “The wind, the clouds, the sky- I had it right there- everything I’d ever wanted, right there, I had it and-… And it was not real…!” Tears started falling again, much to the young man’s frustration. He looked both overwhelmed and devastated, for reasons that eluded even himself. He had no idea why he was reacting so strongly.

“…” Guts stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, images of the grassy hills and the distant sound of Hades’ laughter coming back to him. His expression softened a little. “Everything you’ve ever wanted… Yeah? And what is it that you want?”

Hades tried his best to calm down once more, mulling over the question.

“… To fly.” he replied after a couple seconds of sniffles-filled silence. “To be able to fly…”

“Flying.” Guts nodded, taking in the information. “That… Sounds nice.” He added. He still felt a bit out of place, but he tried to brush off the feeling as best as he could. He still had no idea why he was trying to comfort the young man… He cleared his throat “I’m sure- I’m sure you’ll be able to do that one day. There’s nothing you can’t do, yeah?”

Hades gave a simple nod. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his nose was still a bit stuffy, and his eyes were still wet. The Swordsman briefly pat his shoulder, before he stood back up, as best as he could in the tent anyway. “We’ll be on the go soon. Do you need help packing up?”

The young man shook his head. “No, no thank you. I’m almost done, I’ll be here in a minute…”

Guts nodded, “Alright.”, before he stepped back outside. The party was just about ready to start travelling, and the Swordsman focused on making sure they had enough water before he grabbed the rough-looking map from his own travel bag and looked over the road they’d need to take. He briefed the others, and Hades joined them a short while after, his own travel bag slung over his shoulder. Guts gestured for him to start walking with them, taking his rolled up tent and putting it with the others.

They departed then. Guts tried to stay towards the back of the group in order to have them all in his line of sight, while Hades stayed by his side. That earned him a couple of wary glances, notably from Serpico and Ivalera. If he was honest, Guts would rather Hades walk ahead with the others, but he held back from complaining or ordering him around. They marched forth, leaving the forest behind, walking on a dirt path that led them through lengthy grassy fields. Their long, green strands swayed with the morning breeze and rays of morning sunlight caressed the horizon. The general attention didn’t seem to be on the surroundings, however. Aside from Hades and Isma, everyone seemed either lost in their own thoughts or focused on the road ahead. The demon and the half-merrow enjoyed the scenery, and while Isma seemed at ease enough, Hades was torn between his newfound curiosity for his environment and a slight discomfort at being in unfamiliar territory. He could hear the dirt and small rocks crunching beneath his feet -he was still getting used to wearing shoes, too-, the soft rustle of the grass on each side of the path, birds chirping in the distance… He looked at Isma as he noticed her approaching him. Out of everyone, she was the one most comfortable around him, and had been the most friendly. He appreciated her company. He felt as if they had a sort of… Connection. A little something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He was happy to see her.

“So, first time travelling?” She piped up, slowing down her pace to walk beside him. She also noticed the slight redness around his eyes, a flicker of worry passing in her eyes. “You- You’ve been crying?”

“Ah- a little. I just… I was a bit overwhelmed. With the move, and all… You know, I never left the forest.” Hades replied, tucking a strand of white hair behind his ear, looking almost embarrassed to admit he’d been feeling emotional.

Isma just nodded. “I get it. That must be a bit of a shock… I know I felt nervous when I left my home for the first time. But don’t worry! Travelling with this bunch is fun most of the time.” She said, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Isidro chuckled, having heard the conversation. “Fun? Oh yeah, as long as monsters aren’t trying to dismember us!”

“Hey! You know what I meant.” Isma playfully argued. “We’re a team. A good team.”

“Can’t argue with that…” Isidro replied, his smile stretching into a cocky grin. “Can’t be anything but the best with this exceptional fighter right there!” He pointed at himself, drawing a cackle out of Isma. Hades found himself smiling slightly as well. The half-merrow was right, they were a nice bunch…

At noon, the group settled down in a patch of grass not too far off from the path, and built a small fire to prepare some food. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be enough to keep them energised until they reached the next village. Guts gestured for Hades -who was finishing up his rabbit from last night- to come closer, and then pointed towards the grassy horizon.

“See the houses in the distance?” he said to him. The young man nodded, attentive. “That’s a village. That’ll be our next stop. We’ll buy supplies and food, maybe sell some stuff, and stay for a day or two.”

“A village…” Hades mused thoughtfully. He had always imagined villages to be located on hills, where people could dig the flank of the hills to make themselves nests and burrows. He thought they’d go out every morning to hunt, while others took care of crops. He had fabricated these fancies and images from the few groups of adventurers that had travelled his forest over time. They’d talk of the hunt, or of back home, and he’d even heard one talk about his “infant” son before. He knew what a son was, but he had yet to figure out what was an infant. Maybe there would be infants in the village?

His train of thought was interrupted by a surprise-tackle by Isma. He squawked in surprise as they both rolled down the mound they’d settled on towards a field of wild grass below. Guts frowned, slightly worried about how Hades would respond to the playful gesture. The demon replied with a tackle of his own, to which Isma replied with a loud giggle. The Swordsman relaxed… They were just play-fighting. Hades then engaged a bit more confidently, his initial surprise fading away as he felt the playful grabs and pushes of the half-merrow. He’d never had an occasion to play-fight, having lived a solitary life in the forest for as long as he can remember. This was new. He might have been a little rough, but Isma never took it to heart; they were just having fun, after all. He never bit down hard enough to bruise, nor scratched deep enough to draw blood. He was even hesitant to tackle her at all, and she had to show him how to. They were a bit loud -cackles, squawks and screeches, high-pitched laughter- and an untrained eye might have tried to separate them… It reminded Guts of a litter of puppies, rough-housing each other as they do. It would have made him smile, had he not been worried about the road. The Swordsman focused on his food, ignoring the bunch for the moment. Serpico, Ivalera and Farnese threw the duo a couple of side-eyed glances, while Isidro went over there to try to get them to come back to eat… Only for Hades to tackle him to the ground, dragging him into their fighting-game.

◇

Hades, Isidro and Isma exhausted themselves pretty quickly, much to Guts’ surprise, and finished their meal with the others. They plucked some grass, dirt and bugs out of their hair and clothes and then followed the rest of the group as they took up the road again. Hades’ eyes often squinted, not being used to the bright sunlight of noon. He was still a bit awkward on his feet and on the dirt path, and he had almost tripped a couple of times, but he was slowly getting used to walking properly. He slowed his pace down a little bit, just enough to be next to Guts again. He looked up at the Swordsman, and noticed the frowned etched deeply on his brow. It made him curious. Why did the other look so worried?

Guts, feeling Hades’ gaze on him -partly because of the way the brand of sacrifice on his neck tickled a little-, looked down at the young man, meeting his inquisitive gaze.

“We’ll get to the village by late afternoon.” He stated gruffly… And then he thought about something. Considering what Hades looked like, or, rather, who he looked like, he would most definitely draw a lot of attention on the party. That’s the last thing he needed right now – people crowding around them. He grumbled something under his breath and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder, signalling him to stop walking for a second. When Hades came to a halt, Guts reached into his backpack, pulling out the large scarf he’d used to hide Hades’ hair when first introducing him to the party. He did the same here. He gathered the young man’s white mane in his large, calloused hands, barely feeling the softness of the silky strands under his fingertips. He fashioned them into something like a bun and then manoeuvred the scarf around Hades’ head into a makeshift hood, concealing his appearance enough for it not to draw the attention of the masses.

“… Do I really need to do that…?” Hades’ question rang out in the brief silence that had settled, sounding a little saddened. It made Guts pause.

“… Uh-” He tightened the scarf a little. “Yes. Yes, for everyone’s safety.” The Swordsman answered, tucking a stubborn strand of white hair back into the makeshift hood. He noticed Hades’ subtle pout and slightly dejected expression. “I mean- You’re not-” Guts cleared his throat. That had been a poor way to phrase it. “Not you. I’m not worried about you. You’re not the danger… But the way people could react to you might be.” He took a deep breath. He looked down at the demon, hands resting on his shoulders and… He found himself reluctant to tell him. About Griffith, and his resemblance to him. About anything regarding him, actually. He knew Hades was curious; he could see it in the way the young man was looking up at him, but he refused to say anything. He only gave a curt nod and started walking again. Hades, knowing he wouldn’t get any answers right now, didn’t pry any further, and continued to follow along.

The sun had indeed lowered in the sky by the time they reached the gates of the village. The party, half concealed under capes and scarves, fairies hidden away in pouches, walked forth, heading for the market right away. Hades, for his part, sensed the change in atmosphere as soon as he passed by the first wooden house, and instinctively pressed closer to Guts, eyes flitting from one villager to another anxiously. The Swordsman grumbled something under his breath and -lightly- shoved him forward so he would blend with the others. “You lot go get food. I’ll find an inn and come back to get you.” He stated. The party nodded, and continued towards the market while Guts took a right turn to an adjacent, narrow street. Hades looked between the group and the Swordsman, letting out a quiet, panicked squawk at seeing the unit of the Black Swordsman suddenly separated in such a crowded area. Isma grabbed his arm and ushered him along, having noticed how tense he had become.

“First time seeing so many people in one place, I’m guessing?” she remarked, in her usual cheerful tone, hoping to distract Hades enough so he would relax.

“Y-yeah, it’s… A lot. The chatter, the sound of- of horses and carriages, the- were those bells? Where’s that sound coming from??” Hades replied, quietly. While he hated appearing vulnerable, it was obvious the situation was overwhelming him. A lot.

“You need to relax, man.” Isidro said, looking up from the cabbage in his hand. “It’s just a village. Villages are always like that.”

“Always??” The young man exclaimed in reply. “It’s never any quieter than this?!”

“I mean- it’s quiet at night, when everyone’s sleeping.” Isidro shrugged. “You know, a noisy village is usually a healthy village. It’s not a good sign when a village doesn’t bustle with life.”

“He’s right.” Schierke begrudgingly agreed. “A quiet village usually means Apostles have come and… You know…”

The group quieted down for a second, before Serpico spoke up to break off the tension.

“Hades, come help us pick a good piece of meat, will you?” He called out, which earned him a slightly disapproving glance from Farnese.

Hades, grateful for the distraction, joined the pair in front of the butcher’s stand. The man behind the counter was a strong, hairy fellow, his eyes nearly concealed behind bushy eyebrows, while the lower half of his face was completely engulfed in a thick, tangled beard.

“What’ll be, ladies and gentlemen?” He said loudly, wiping his hands with a cloth at his belt.

Serpico nudged Hades forward. “Choose the best.” he only said, letting the demon do the rest.

“Best? Uh. Well, I-” Hades stammered, looking between the butcher and Serpico, fighting to regain some semblance of composure. He then focused his attention back on the various meats for sale, in an effort to drown out the ambient noise. “Do you have any fresh kills?” He asked the butcher.

The large man nodded. “I got some alright. A couple of rabbits and five pieces of venison. They sell out like little pastries, so you better get your hands on some before they’re all gone.”

“Right, right, rabbit and venison…” Hades mused, leaning forward ever so slightly. All the pieces smelled delicious, but he knew he couldn’t take everything. They had limited funds… “And the cheapest meat?” He asked next.

“That’d be sheep. Got myself a handful of them, and they’ve got to go before they go bad.” the butcher answered, taking out his knife. “So, what will it be?”

“Uh… I’ll go for… One piece of venison, two… Two halves of sheep and…” Hades started, but the butcher interrupted him.

“Sorry lad, I can’t hear ya- One piece of what?”

“Venison, and then- two halves of-”

“You gotta speak louder, friend, I can’t hear a single thing with this ruckus!” The butcher vaguely gestured to the hustle and bustle of the marketplace around them.

Hades, annoyed at having to repeat himself, took a deep breath…

“One piece of venison!” He said again, his voice loud, clear… Commanding.

The butcher chuckled, grabbing the meat. “Alright, that’s more like it!”

“One piece of venison, two halves of sheep.” Hades continued, while the butcher followed.

“Yes!”

“And one slice of steak!”

“Yes sir!”

“With at least a quarter of fat!”

“Absolutely sir! That’ll be four gold coins.” The butcher concluded cheerfully.

Serpico gritted his teeth at the price before handing the money over, while Hades picked up the bags of fresh meat.

“Thanks, fellas! Have a good one. And good day to you too sir!” The butcher said after taking the money, nudging Hades’ shoulder in a friendly way.

“You too!” He replied, before walking back with a determined stride towards Isma and Isidro, who were waiting for Schierke to be done buying herbs and vegetables.

Serpico and Farnese followed, slower, hearing the butcher chuckle behind them. They obviously weren’t too at ease with having Hades around still, and that little demonstration of potential power -as small as it was- left them with a weird feeling. That attitude, that tone… It’s as if it drew people in, and they feared that Hades could use it to his advantage against the party. They discussed this briefly in hushed voices before the party gathered again, waiting for Guts’ return.

“So, you had fun ordering stuff?” Isidro teased, looking at the bags in Hades’ arms. “We could hear you all the way across the plaza.” He snickered.

“No. It was embarrassing.” Hades grumbled, putting the bags next to the ones carrying the vegetables. There was a subtle flush dusting his cheeks. “Never again.”

“Oh come on!” Isidro playfully poked his side with his elbow. “Who knows, maybe you could use that tone again to get us some discounts and free goodies, huh? Huuh? ~”

“It was a spur of the moment thing, I didn’t-” Hades tried to dismiss, only for the boy to interrupt him again.

“Oh come on! You could basically get anything you want! You basically ordered the butcher to give you the meat back there. I’m pretty sure if you’d been firm enough, you coulda gotten him to give it all to you for free!” He punctuated the remark with a grin.

Serpico, Farnese and Schierke glanced at each other nervously.

Hades lightly smacked the back of Isidro’s head. “Now you’re just being silly. If I wanted free meat, I might as well go out and hunt it myself.” He huffed.

Isidro rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun.” he grumbled. The others relaxed.

Chapter Text

Guts had managed to find a relatively secluded inn, and had already made a reservation when he found the party waiting for him just a little further away from the marketplace, which was finally starting to quiet down as merchants and farmers packed up their leftover goods, counted the money they’d made during the day, and so on. The group seemed relatively relaxed -as relaxed as they could allow themselves to be, anyway-. Most were sitting on the ground; Isidro was sharpening a pocket dagger, Schierke was going over her spells with Farnese, and Serpico stood by their side, eyes focused on Hades who was just idly leaning against a nearby wall. The lot perked up as they saw Guts coming back, but before anyone could say anything, a piercing wail reached all of their ears. It got closer.

“Please!! For the love of everything that’s holy, someone help me!”

The voice of a woman rang out, just loud enough to be heard above the wailing. There she was, frantically looking around the marketplace, a shrieking infant in her arms, eyes wild with distress. Of course, the crowd didn’t seem too keen on helping the woman, and when her eyes fell on the party, or, more precisely, Hades -since he was the one that was the least concealed by the walls of the adjacent alleyway-, she made a beeline for him, and practically shoved the baby in his arms, much to the young man’s confusion and alarm.

“Please! I keep rocking him but nothing works!! H-he won’t sleep! I won’t sleep because he won’t!! it’s been three days, please, I beg of you- help me-!!” The mother cried out, her eyes welling up with tears as she looked pleadingly at Hades.

Not having too much of a choice in the matter, Hades awkwardly gathered the infant into his arms. “Right, I uh- here- I’ll-”
Of course, the commotion summoned the rest of the Black Swordsman’s party, and they approached, trying to figure out a way to calmly handle the situation. Isma and Schierke went up to the distressed mother, trying to get her to settle, while Farnese tried to pry the baby from Hades’ arms. He squawked in disapproval, but the rising noise and agitation around only served to make the baby cry louder. Frustrated by the way this was playing out, Guts stepped forward, and he took the baby. The infant fit perfectly in both of his large hands, and all of a sudden, all eyes were on him, and a hush fell over the group. The child’s wails echoed for a little longer before his crying reduced to fussing, and his fussing reduced to hiccups, before he finally quieted down for good. Relief washed over the Swordsman, before it was replaced by a wave of embarrassment, and he hastily put the child back in Hades’ arms. Farnese was about to protest, but the demon adjusted his hold on the baby, tucking his little head under his chin while his forearm supported his bottom. His free hand stabilized the infant by placing itself on his back, and after rocking the child some more, he fell asleep.

The mother, seeing her child finally rest, promptly passed out herself. Serpico caught her, fortunately, but now the bunch realized that they were stuck with these two for an unknown amount of time. Guts, despite being quite displeased by this turn of events, decided to take the pair to the inn with them. He carried the mother while Hades carried …

… The young man initially didn’t follow. His eyes were firmly fixed on the infant, full of curiosity, confusion, nervousness, and a very faint spark of instinctual tenderness. Guts grumbled and called out to him.

“Hades! Move your ass.”

“I can’t-” The young man stammered.

“What?”

“I can’t move! If I do it’s going to explode-”

The Swordsman rolled his eyes while Isma and Isidro chuckled.

“It’s a baby, it’s not going to break. Come, before the inn closes.

“Baby?” Hades repeated, eyes darting between the infant and the Swordsman, much to the man’s annoyance.

“God dammit, yes! Now come on, before I drag you behind like a rag-doll!”

Guts and the party started walking towards the inn again, and Hades took a deep breath, which he held in, and took a tentative step forward. Then another. And seeing the baby was still peacefully asleep against his chest, he finally caught up.

◇

The party managed to smuggle the pair in the inn, into their room. Guts had rented two rooms actually, but for now they were all gathered in one of them, Schierke tending to the exhausted, still passed out mother laying in one of the beds while the baby was put in the other one by Farnese. Hades was the most dumbfounded of the lot. Everyone here knew what a baby was, of course, but for some strange reason, it looked like the demon had no clue what he was looking at.

“He’s a cute one.” Isma remarked, before she joined Schierke’s side, taking interest in the spells she was casting while Ivalera fluttered about.

Isidro seemed unimpressed, although that might’ve just been a front, and Farnese and Serpico were busy in another corner, leaving Guts, Puck and Hades to survey the infant’s condition. The fairy would playfully flutter around, as if he could manifest good dreams for the little one. Guts tried his hardest not to show any emotion, and so turned his attention towards Hades, who was sitting down on the floor, chin resting on the edge of the bed and eyes fixated on the baby. The Swordsman huffed.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen one of those before.” He muttered in a low tone, to not wake up the child.

“I haven’t.” Hades replied truthfully. Guts blinked sceptically.

“… Bullshit.”

“I’m serious.” He insisted, glancing at Guts’ face briefly. “I’ve never seen a… A baby, as you called it.”

“Now you’re just playing with me-” The Swordsman grumbled. “You really have never seen a baby? Not even an animal baby? In that forest you must’ve seen some, right? Wolf or fox cubs?”

“Cubs?” Hades perked up slightly.

“Yeah, cubs, puppies, offspring, spawns- whatever the hell you want to call them.”

“Oh-!” His blue eyes flickered with understanding. “’Baby’ is just another word for ‘offspring’? ‘Young’?”

“Yeah.” Guts grumbled, unimpressed.

“Ooh, right, right… No yeah I’ve definitely seen animal offspring before. But never… Human ones.” The young man replied, looking back at the infant. “People don’t go hunting in the forest with babies, you know.”

“I figured.” Guts grumbled again. He wanted to keep the conversation off the current topic, but he found himself at a loss for words, much to his frustration. He supposed he wouldn’t avoid it then. “… So, first time? Congrats, I guess. You finally got acquainted with human babies. Hooray.” He said dryly. “Helpless things that spend their days eating, shitting, crying, and puking. The so called ‘miracle of life’.”

Hades seemed unperturbed by Guts’ sarcastic remarks, his undivided attention on the child. He could hear each of the infant’s little breaths, see the rise and fall of its tiny chest, and the way its tiny fingers flexed into a closed fist occasionally while it slept.

“… It’s…”

He too, found himself at a loss for words. He hesitantly reached out, taking one of the tiny, rosy hands into his own.

“The hands… they’re so small… And pink- is it normal for them to be pink? It’s so warm too… does it have a fever-?” he rambled, one finger uncoiling the minuscule digits to inspect them more closely.

“Fever?” Guts mumbled, his hand reaching forward to get a brief feel of the infant’s forehead. “No, kid’s fine. As warm as it’s supposed to be.”

He pried the infant’s hand out of Hades’ -surprisingly gentle- grip, letting the little limb rest by the baby’s head on the bed. As much as he wanted to be annoyed with both Hades and the baby, he couldn’t deny that the scene was… Tender, in a way. But then his expression turned sour.

“… He’s gonna grow up in one hell of a world, huh…?” He mused, with a hint of sorrow.

Hades wordlessly agreed, letting out a little “mh”. A beat. “… It’s a … A miniature human. A really tiny human…”

“Yeah.” Guts gruffly agreed. He wanted to get up and go do something else, but he didn’t want to leave the infant with Hades. For some reason that he couldn’t quite grasp. The idea of leaving the baby with a demon around, even if the two weren’t alone in the room, just felt… Wrong.

“… It looks so happy to be sleeping.” Hades remarked after another long beat of silence. “I wish I slept like that. It looks very comfortable.”

Guts huffed, a tiny smile at the corner of his lips. “In all honesty, me too. He looks utterly unperturbed.” The Swordsman then looked out the window, seeing that the night had fallen for good. He got up, a joint or two popping with the movement. “We should all go to sleep, actually. We still got a lot of road ahead. Tuck yourselves in.” He announced, loud enough for everybody to hear, and consequently, everyone started to get ready for bed. Guts almost had to carry Hades out into the other bedroom, the young man not wanting to leave the infant’s side. He then laid the mother down in the same bed as the baby and took the free one for himself, hoping that at least some sleep would come to him.

◇

Strangely enough, Guts was the last one to wake up the next morning. He grumbled, wondering what kind of spell had been cast on him; he slept like a fucking brick. He then noticed the others, gathered around the mom and the infant, who were now awake. The woman was breastfeeding her child, and while she looked tired still, she seemed undeniably relieved and relaxed compared to yesterday. The Swordsman sighed and walked up to the group, his imposing frame towering over everyone.

“How’re you doin’?” he asked the woman, his voice still raspy with sleep, which he tried to fix by clearing his throat.
“Better,” she replied, offering the man a tired smile. “Your friends have helped me quite a lot. Thank you, I… I needed this.” She added softly, adjusting her grip on her infant. Her gaze shifted from the Swordsman, to the baby, and finally, it landed on Hades, who was half-hiding behind Schierke, eyes riveted on her and the child. The woman chuckled.
“This one’s been staring.” she remarked. Guts shuffled over to the demon, looking ever so slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah- sorry about him, he’s not very… educated.” he grumbled in response, trying to get Hades to look away by tugging on his shirt. The young man didn’t budge, and the woman chuckled.

“It’s fine, I suppose. He looks quite curious. Is he yours?”

“Huh? Hell no-” Guts sputtered in response, looking to the side.

“Ah, adopted, then?”

“No!! He just- he’s tagging along, like the others.” The Swordsman protested, embarrassed by the woman’s scrutiny. He looked away.

“Right, sorry-” the woman replied, quietly, and shifted her focus back on Hades. She smiled at him. “You look like you’ve never seen an infant feed before.” She remarked.

Hades nodded. “It’s true. It’s the first time I see that…” he replied, almost absent-mindedly.

“You don’t have siblings?” the mother inquired, while the demon shook his head.

“No. No, it’s always been just me.”

“I see…”

The woman’s eyes looked over the group for a moment, as she hummed thoughtfully.

“So… I’m guessing you lot are all orphans, and the broody giant over there took you in? How sweet!” She chuckled, while the others let out sounds of embarrassment, or tried to clarify the situation. Guts looked like he wanted to bury himself in the ground right then and there.

“What’s an orphan?” Hades, who looked utterly unperturbed, asked the woman. She tilted her head, slightly confused, but answered nonetheless.

“Kids who don’t have parents. Or at least, grow up without them.” She adjusted her dress, and put the baby over her shoulder, gently tapping his back.

“Oh. Well I have parents. I just don’t know who or where they are.” Hades replied. “But I’m pretty sure my mother didn’t do that with me.” he added, nodding towards the woman and the infant.

“What, breastfeeding? Hm… Maybe she had a wet nurse.” she mused. Hades shrugged.

“All I know is that she left me in the forest eventually.”

The woman’s expression turned to one of shock. “… The forest…? You are a feral child??”

“A what?” Hades blinked. Guts grumbled something under his breath and replied instead.

“Yeah, yeah he’s a feral.”

“Oh, by the Gods…” the mother mumbled, shaking her head disapprovingly. She held her infant closer. “I feel like abandoning children is more and more common… How cruel…” she sighed. “I commend you for taking care of all these.” She nodded towards the group. “You’re doing good work here.”

“Ma’am, it’s- it’s not-” Guts grumbled, looking to the side. “I think you misunderstood the situation, I’m not-”

“It can’t be easy to have this many mouths to feed…” She continued, looking over the group, who were busying themselves with menial tasks to try and avoid the conversation.

“I mean they’re relatively fine on their own, we just travel together- I don’t take care of them-” The ex-mercenary replied, wishing she’d stop talking.

“And this one,” she continued, looking back at Hades, who was trying to get the infant in the woman’s arms to stop tugging on his hair. “he has to be the hardest to look after… I can’t imagine having to raise a feral child is easy.”

“… I’m not raising him-”

“You have a lot of faith and courage, sir.” the woman continued, looking back up at Guts with a smile. “Those are precious qualities to have in our world… Cherish those. Cherish them.” she added, confusing the Swordsman.

“… Thanks. I guess.” He then cleared his throat and looked around the room “alright everyone, pack it up! We have to hit the road soon.”