Monster's Genie

The quiet afternoon was interrupted by the steady knock on a small wooden door. A certain holy knight, clad in polished silver armor that gleamed in the sunlight, stood outside the modest house. His persistent knocking continued until the door creaked open to reveal a small girl with curious eyes staring up at him.

The knight bent down slightly, a kind smile softening his rugged features. "Katy, Could you tell me where the orphanage mother is?"

The girl's eyes lit up, and without answering, she turned and dashed inside, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Mother, handsome brother is here!"

Shaking his head with a chuckle, the holy knight straightened up and stepped inside. The orphanage was a warm, bustling place, filled with the laughter and chatter of children. He stood in the entryway for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the humble yet lively home. His lips curved into a thoughtful smile as he silently monologued to himself.

"This place hasn't changed," he murmured. "Years ago, I found a kind woman caring for these kids when I was on a mission to erdicate the crime in slums of Ared, but who could have thought I would end up supporting her to maintain this house. Mother Agnes, you truly have a heart of gold."

As he ventured further into the house, several children darted past him, giggling as they played. His eyes softened at the sight of their carefree energy. Then, his gaze fell on a woman seated by the window. She was singing a gentle lullaby to a small child cradled in her arms. The melody was soothing, a song of olden times that spoke of peace and warmth.

[Verse]

Hush now my darling the moonlight will keep

Guiding your dreams to the valleys of sleep

Through silvery forests and oceans of light

Stars weave their stories in threads of the night

[Verse 2]

Whispers of wind in the branches so tall

Echo through dreams where the wild creatures call

Soft is the night and the world calmly sings

Carrying you on the whisper of wings

[Chorus]

In the cradle of twilight the dreams take their flight

Wrapping you gently in blankets of night

Silver and shadows and moonbeams unfold

Tales of the night in your dreams softly told

[Bridge]

Listen my darling to lullabies true

Sung by the stars and the evening dew

Mountains and rivers and valleys so deep

Cradle your dreams in the night as you sleep

[Verse 3]

Through gardens of starlight and meadows of dreams

Wander the pathways by silver moonbeams

Mystical stories in hushes are spun

In the embrace of the night till the sun

[Chorus]

In the cradle of twilight the dreams take their flight

Wrapping you gently in blankets of night

Silver and shadows and moonbeams unfold

Tales of the night in your dreams softly told

He stopped near the doorway, leaning against the frame to listen. The song tugged at something deep within him, a memory of simpler days. When the woman finished, she glanced up and noticed him. Her face lit up with a warm, welcoming smile.

"Oh, Sir Roswald," she greeted, standing carefully so as not to wake the child. "You've come to visit us. What a wonderful surprise."

Roswald stepped forward, offering a respectful bow. "Mother Agnes, it's always a pleasure to see you and hear your voice singing for these children. Here, I've brought something to help."

He reached into his pouch and handed her a small bag of coins. Mother Agnes took it with both hands, her eyes glistening with gratitude.

"Bless you, Sir Roswald. Things have been difficult lately. More children keep arriving, and it's been a challenge to provide for them all."

Roswald's gaze wandered around the room, taking in the signs of wear and tear, the patched furniture, and the crowded corners. He nodded thoughtfully. "I can see that. Why so many stray children now?"

Mother Agnes sighed deeply. "It's the war, I suspect. Families torn apart, villages destroyed... Many little ones are left with nowhere to go."

Roswald sighed as well, a heaviness settling over his expression. "War spares no one, does it?"

She shook her head silently. After a moment, Roswald glanced toward the door leading to the yard. "By the way, where are Hana and Mariya? I haven't seen them yet."

Mother Agnes chuckled softly. "They're probably playing outside. Do you want me to call them in?"

Roswald waved a hand dismissively. "No need. Let them enjoy themselves. I actually came to talk to you about something important."

Mother Agnes's expression grew serious as she gestured for him to sit. They took seats at a worn wooden table, and Roswald leaned forward, his tone lowering.

"Have you heard about the strange deaths among the holy men? Many of them… taking their own lives, or dying mysteriously on the spot. Before they pass, they all speak of something dark. They say evil has awakened."

Mother Agnes's eyes darkened. She glanced around the room as if ensuring no little ears were listening. "What are you asking, Sir Roswald?"

"I want to know what you've heard. Anything at all. You used to be a Holy Daughter of the Ared Church. Surely you have some insight?"

For a moment, Mother Agnes said nothing, her gaze distant. Then she sighed and looked back at him. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread that around. I left that life behind long ago. Not because I hated it, but I found a man I wanted to share rest of my life with. Sadly he passed away before me!"

Roswald shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Your secret is safe with me, Mother Agnes. But I need your help. This is serious."

She tapped her fingers on the table, lost in thought. Finally, she spoke. "If what you've heard is true, it could mean that a terrible monster has been awakened. Perhaps in the forest. There have always been dark things lurking there. But I've heard nothing concrete."

Roswald's brow furrowed. "A monster in the forest… That's a possibility. But I have another theory. I suspect some sort of drug might be circulating among the holy people. Something that twists the mind."

Mother Agnes shook her head firmly. "No, Sir Roswald. If that were the case, I would know. I still have a few friends in the cathedral. They would have told me if something like that were happening."

Roswald sat back, frustration flickering across his face. "Then we're back to the monster theory. If there's truly something dark out there, I'll have to investigate it myself."

Mother Agnes reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on his armored forearm. "Be careful, Roswald. The forest is a dangerous place, especially now. If you're going to venture there, make sure you're prepared."

He covered her hand with his own, a rare moment of vulnerability. "I will. Thank you, Mother Agnes. For everything."

***

Orani watched the little girl cradled in her arms, sipping on her milk without a care in the world hanging onto her breast while puckering up her little mouth on her nipple. Her snake like eyes narrowed in confusion. "She drinks it so calmly," Orani muttered under her breath. "Does she not feel the poison? Or is she… different?"

Then her mind went to Jinnara and realized if she was really his child, then it made sense why she was immune. "What race are these two? Are they human or monster? Selis told me Jinnara had wings so he can't possibly be human,"

The girl gave a small, contented sigh, completely unaware of the lamia's thoughts. Orani's tail swayed uneasily as she glanced over at the other children huddled together in the corner playing their own games. They were the last hope of the tribe—a tribe teetering on the edge of extinction. The men were gone, most lost in battles they hadn't returned from and killed by their own partners as lamia women were always violent went it came to reproducing. Only the women and children remained.

"How much longer can we hold on like this?" she whispered to herself, her voice filled with doubt.

Suddenly, the heavy curtain at the room's entrance rustled. Two lamias slithered in, their expressions somber. One of them, Nara, spoke first. "Mother, the preparations are complete. We've readied his body for the final farewell."

Orani's goldensnake eyes flickered with sorrow, but she gave a small nod. "Thank you, Nara. I'll be there shortly."

The other lamia, Zera, hesitated for a moment before asking, "Will you bring the child with you?"

Orani tightened her grip on the girl. "Yes," she said firmly. "She is my responsibility now that she is with me. She will be there with me,"

Without waiting for a response, Orani stood, her tail coiling slightly beneath her to balance the child. She looked at the children again, her heart heavy. "Stay here," she instructed them gently. "I'll return soon."

The two lamias nodded respectfully and led the way out. Orani followed, her thoughts swirling as she carried the child who didn't flinch from her poisonous milk. 

"How sad! Why do I have to see the death of our future like this? Will our tribe disappear? We need to reproduce but all the remaining men are either children or dead," Orani thought stepping out of her simple home.