Rose Garden: Chapter 02

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Outside the church, the sunlight was blinding. Warren furrowed his brows and raised a hand to shield his eyes as he slowly descended the stone steps. The wind was dusty and cold, and as he squinted into it, the tie holding back his hair came undone, letting black strands fall across his face. He bent to pick up the tie, a faint sense of melancholy lingering as he retied his now too-long hair.

It was always the same after going to church... a lingering feeling of guilt. He didn’t go there out of piety. In truth, he bore a grudge against God. And yet, come Sunday, he never failed to attend services.

One reason was that he felt he shouldn’t stay at home. But the real reason why of all places it had to be the church was because, despite his resentment toward God, he still held on to the faintest sliver of hope.

“Good day, Warren.”

A voice like tinkling bells called out to him. It was Eva, the butcher’s daughter from the main street, with her brunette hair and a face dotted with freckles. She gave him a polite nod.

“About the brooch I asked you for... will it still take a while?”

About two weeks ago, Eva had asked him to make a flower-shaped brooch. But since his main work was carving ornamental decorations and making picture frames, he had only been able to work on it in between jobs, and it was taking time.

“I’ve been busy with other work, so I haven’t made much progress. I’m sorry. I’ll have it finished by the week after next, for sure.”

Eva slightly lifted the hem of her skirt which was already too short for church. The edge of her black petticoat peeked out. Warren gave a wry smile at the boldness unbecoming of a teenage girl.

“I want it soon, please? I’m going shopping with Mama next month in Poska, and I want to wear it then.”

“If you’re going into the city, you’ll probably find something there more elaborate and beautiful than anything I could make.”

Eva puffed out her pink cheeks in a pout.

“I want the one you make.”

She stepped closer. Thinking it improper to flirt in front of the church, Warren backed away slightly but she closed the distance even more.

“Hey…”

Her voice dropped into a sweet, almost coaxing whisper, scented faintly with perfume.

“My, my, Warren. You’re quite the handsome fellow, aren’t you?”

A raspy, boisterous voice burst out nearby. Eva, startled, seemed to finally realize how bold she’d been and hurriedly took a few steps back.

“You’re no innocent yourself, I see.”

Doris waddled up, her plump belly jiggling as she walked. Well into her sixties and with silver streaks in her hair, she smiled broadly, wrinkles creasing her entire face.

“Eva, a young lady shouldn’t behave so shamelessly.”

Scolded, Eva turned a deep shade of red, covered her face with both hands, and fled. Doris sighed as she watched the girl’s retreating figure.

“Good grief, girls these days have no sense of modesty. And you, Warren save your love confessions on church steps for your wedding day, will you?”

Under Doris’s merciless reproach, Warren shrugged and offered an excuse.

“I’m not romantically involved with Eva. She just asked me for some work.”

Doris let out a dramatic sigh and pressed her hand to her forehead.

“And that’s why people call you a womanizer. Listen here, Warren. Stop giving those young girls hope with that face of yours. If you’re not interested, you should be cold to them that’s what being a real man is. Oh… that reminds me.”

Doris reached behind her and pulled forward a child with reddish-brown hair, placing him in front of Warren.

“Grandma, I don’t want to!”

The child shook his head and tried to hide behind Doris again.

“Don’t be ridiculous, not after coming all this way!”

Doris gave the boy a sharp smack on the head.

“He helped you, didn’t he? The least you can do is say thank you. I didn’t raise you to be some ungrateful little brat.”

Warren couldn’t bring himself to say anything he understood all too well why the child wanted nothing to do with him. What he had done yesterday was nothing short of reckless, foolish beyond excuse.

If anyone found out he was a demon, he wouldn’t be able to live in the village anymore. That was why he’d spent so long desperately pretending to be human. To show his true self in front of a child was to risk the entire village discovering who he really was. It would undo everything he had worked so hard to protect and in that moment, he had forgotten all of that.

He had only revealed his "true form" because the child insisted he couldn’t possibly be a demon. Somewhere in his heart, he had hoped maybe this child, the brave one who’d made it through the forest of Oliva, wouldn’t be frightened. But the moment he showed him, the child fled like a startled hare. There was nothing special about him after all. He was just a child.

Warren had chased after him, bitterly disappointed. The northern path was enchanted to keep humans from passing through it. He’d tried to at least cast a spell to let the child safely through, but the boy wouldn’t listen and just kept running. So Warren had no choice but to fly after him and catch him in the air. The child must have been frightened by the flight, because he suddenly went quiet and when Warren looked at his face, the boy’s eyes were shut, his body limp. He had fainted.

Left with no other choice, Warren carried him to the village of Torney, searching door to door to find out where the boy belonged. He never imagined the child would be the grandson of Doris, the woman infamous for her sharp tongue…

He was afraid the story would pass from the child to Doris, and then spread throughout the village but in the end, it seemed no one had taken it seriously. It was just a child’s story, after all.

The tug-of-war between Doris and the child, who was still trying to escape from Warren, dragged on for some time.

“Doris, don’t worry about what happened yesterday,” Warren said at last, pitying the child, who was squirming and resisting with growing distress.

“I must worry about it. Even if you don’t, I do,” Doris insisted stubbornly.

“But…!” the boy shouted, on the verge of tears. “But he’s a demon!”

The people nearby turned to look. Doris clapped her hands over her face in shock, eyes wide.

“Oh, what a blasphemous thing to say. To stand in front of the church and call someone a demon shame on you! You’ve been talking nonsense since yesterday. Are you sure your heart wasn’t eaten by a forest spirit?”

She pinched the boy’s ear and yanked it upward. He crouched down and burst into loud sobs. Warren quickly stepped in, gently prying the child away from her grip.

“Don’t be so hard on him he’s just scared. That forest must’ve truly frightened him. It’s no wonder he’s confused.”

Doris shook her head in disbelief.

“And to say something like that to such a kind man…! I’ve never seen a more ungrateful grandchild in my life. Don’t bother coming home until you’ve properly reflected on what you’ve done!”

Her large frame stiff with indignation, Doris turned and stomped off, quickly fading into the distance. The child screamed after her with all the bitterness he could muster.

“I don’t care about you, Grandma!”

And then he sat there, sniffling and sobbing.

Warren stood beside the crying boy, completely at a loss. The blame lay entirely with him he’d let his guard down because the boy was a child, and revealed his demonic form. The child hadn’t said anything wrong.

He stared at the top of the boy’s bowed head, his small crown of hair swirled at the back. He looked to be about eight years old. Maybe just maybe if he tried, he could convince a child that it had all been a dream. Warren gently placed a hand on the boy’s back, and the boy flinched hard, his whole body trembling in a way that left no doubt. Warren had known that would happen… but it still hurt.

“Wait here for a moment,” he said softly, then turned and walked toward the village’s main street. At a general store, he bought a bag of bonbons sugar candies usually reserved for women and returned.

The boy was still crouched in front of the church, just as he had left him.

“Here, this is for you.”

The boy looked up and saw the colorful bonbons wrapped in patterned napkin paper. His eyes went wide. For a moment he stared, utterly captivated then suddenly turned away as if trying to resist the sweet temptation.

“I don’t want it.”

“What’s wrong? You don’t like sweets?”

The boy glared at Warren.

“There might be some weird magic on it. What if I eat it and turn into a cow or a pig…”

Warren gave a small chuckle and opened the bag of sugar candies. He took one out and popped it into his mouth, crunching loudly as if savoring the overly sweet taste. The boy, still watching intently, swallowed audibly.

“They’re actually pretty good.”

He popped in a second, then a third, and after a moment, asked, “Want one?” The boy didn’t look up but reached out his hand ever so slightly. Warren couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, which made the boy angrily pull his hand back.

“Sorry, sorry. Here you go.”

Warren pressed the candy into the boy’s hand. Impatiently, the boy unwrapped the napkin and stuffed the candy into his mouth. With his small cheeks puffed out, he looked so much like a baby squirrel it was almost comical. As Warren watched the boy’s expression soften in delight at the sweetness, he spoke.

“You were dreaming.”

The boy looked up, sugar still dusting the corners of his mouth.

“You were tricked by one of the dream-spirits in Oliva Forest. You dreamt that I was a demon.”

Warren tried to explain it away, but the boy stubbornly shook his head.

“No. I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes. The big, black bat wings growing out of your back, and your glowing cat eyes ”

Warren hadn’t expected how unpleasant it would feel to have his true form described so plainly.

“It was just a dream. One of those nasty ones the forest puts in your head.”

“It wasn’t a lie!”

The boy reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled something out, thrusting it toward Warren. It was the small leather pouch the one that had originally belonged to Warren but had since been passed to Kyle, who had given it to the boy.

“It really happened! There was an angel, and there was a demon! If it was just a monster’s trick, there’s no way I’d still have this pouch the angel gave me!”

Without a word, Warren took the pouch from the child’s hand.

“What are you doing?! Give it back!”

Warren turned on his heel and walked away with long strides. The boy scrambled after him. When they reached the river that ran through the center of the village, Warren walked to the edge of the bridge, raised the pouch in his hand, and flung it into the current.

“No !!” the boy’s voice cried out in despair.

The pouch bobbed a few times in the rushing water and then disappeared beneath the surface. The boy stood frozen, mouth agape, staring in disbelief at the river.

“So… what did Kyle give you, anyway?” Warren asked casually.

The boy bit his lip, trembling with frustration.

“You were dreaming,” Warren said again. “It was just an illusion created by the forest. A dream demon’s trick.”

“No it wasn’t!” the boy shouted, loud enough to make nearby villagers turn and stare.

“If you won’t believe me,” he snapped, “then I’ll go back and check for myself!”

With that, he spun around and took off running.

“Hey, where are you going?”

The boy neither stopped nor looked back. Warren’s chest tightened with a sense of dread. He’d enchanted the northern path, humans couldn’t pass through. But if the boy truly meant to go confirm things for himself…

He rushed after him in alarm. There was only one place the boy could mean to go back into the Forest of Oliva.

No. It had to be.

The Forest of Oliva had long been a den of monsters and demons. Somewhere within it lay a passage between the underworld where demons dwelled and the surface world above. The entire forest pulsed with a suffocating, malignant aura. To monsters, such a place was paradise, a natural refuge. And so, over time, they had flocked there in droves.

Anyone who entered Oliva Forest didn’t come back alive. Experience had taught people to avoid the place entirely. But every so often, some fool who didn’t believe the old stories would wander in and end up as a monster’s next meal.

That boy had been incredibly lucky. Very few ever made it through the forest without being caught. Luck like that wouldn’t strike twice. Or three times. Usually, they were devoured so thoroughly, not even bones were left behind.

The boy was incredibly fast, darting away as if flying. Warren clicked his tongue lightly, breathing hard. He couldn’t transform and take to the sky here in the middle of the village.

The Forest of Oliva came into view. Without a moment’s hesitation, the boy plunged into the thick tangle of trees. A chill seized Warren’s chest. No matter how he transformed, once someone got lost in that forest, saving them became nearly impossible. And the creatures that lived there never hesitated to attack or devour a human. It wouldn’t be out of the question to find nothing left but a pair of eyes.

Warren rushed in after him, and the moment he crossed into the trees, a dense, clinging atmosphere enveloped his body. The fact that it didn’t feel unpleasant to him only made his frustration burn hotter.

He had barely taken a few steps before a maze-like world spread out around him. Everywhere he looked were dense, shadowy trees, each one so alike it was impossible to tell where the boy had gone. Even his sense of direction was slipping away.

“Where are you? Answer me!”

Only his own voice echoed back. Even as he pushed deeper, all he heard was the hollow reply of his own shouting. He trampled the underbrush and struck tree trunks in growing agitation. Then, close by, he heard a high, terrified scream.

“N-no! Help me, help!”

He caught a glimpse of a human hand between the trees and dashed toward the sound. Slipping between thick trunks, he crashed through to where the noise had come from.

The boy had been caught by a creature called a Spritz, a humanoid monster, though its form resembled a massive ape more than anything human. Spritzes had a particular taste for human flesh. Its jaws were already open wide, fangs bared, and it had the boy by one leg, ready to devour him.

“Let him go.”

The Spritz ran a thick, purplish tongue across the boy’s exposed knee before glaring at Warren with eyes like glass marbles.

“Prey that enters the forest belongs to the one who finds it first. Don’t interfere.”

Its breath alone reeked with decay, and Warren’s brow creased.

“I understand the rule. But could you make an exception, just this once? Let me have that human.”

The Spritz’s red mouth twisted.

“No.”

There was no reasoning with it. Warren sighed and reluctantly transformed into his true form. He hadn’t wanted to take that shape again in front of the boy, but there was no other way. The black wings, the slitted feline eyes, the long, sharpened claws when he changed, the Spritz’s beady glass eyes went wide.

“You’re… a demon?”

“That’s right. Hand him over.”

“No.”

The Spritz grinned, baring yellowed fangs.

“It’s been a while since I had child meat. Besides, you lot only eat souls, not flesh, right? You can have the soul. Take it. But the meat is mine.”

“Is there no room for negotiation?”

“Stop pestering me!”

The negotiation was over. Warren didn’t want to start trouble with the forest’s residents if he could help it, but this was no longer avoidable. He bent down, picked up a pebble at his feet, infused it with a curse, and hurled it at the Spritz. It struck its right eye, shattering the glass-like orb with a sharp crack.

“Graaahhh !”

The Spritz staggered and collapsed, flinging the boy aside. Warren rushed forward and caught him in his arms. Writhing between the trees, the monster snarled and bared its fangs in fury.

“You still want to fight me?”

At the sound of his voice, the wounded creature visibly flinched.

“Do you want to die that badly?”

With a scream more like a howl of terror than a battle cry, the Spritz turned tail and ran.

The danger had passed. Warren looked down at the child cradled in his arms. His face had gone pale, and his teeth were chattering.

“Can you walk?”

The boy shook his head.

“I know you don’t want to, but I’m carrying you out of the forest.”

Warren hated carrying him in his demon form, but at least this way, no other monsters would come near. He quickened his pace, careful not to look at the boy’s face.

Overhead, a half-beast, half-bird creature called a Fodge shrieked in a piercing voice, and the small body in his arms gave a sharp shudder.

“It’s okay,” Warren murmured, stroking the boy’s shoulder gently. “As long as I’m here, nothing else will come near you.”

The boy’s small hand crept up hesitantly and looped around Warren’s neck. That little human body, faintly sweet with the scent of sugar, was warm in his arms. Warren held him tighter.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Just before leaving the forest, Warren shifted back into human form. The child still clung tightly to his neck, eyes squeezed firmly shut.

“It’s all right now.”

Only after the dense trees of the Forest of Oliva had vanished behind them did Warren speak. The boy cautiously opened his eyes, but then flinched at a creaking sound and quickly shut them again.

“It’s just a waterwheel. Nothing to be afraid of.”

The child let out a soft breath when he saw the broken watermill by the narrow riverbank. In the distance, the bridge where Warren had thrown away the leather pouch was also visible.

“Think you can walk?”

The child gave a small nod and stood firmly on his feet, which had stopped trembling. Warren half-expected him to dart away like a bird the moment he let go, but the brown eyes remained fixed on him, unmoving.

“There are good demons, huh?”

The unexpected words made Warren widen his eyes. The child stretched both arms wide.

“I always thought all demons were bad, but I guess I was wrong. Because you… you saved me. You didn’t even eat me the first time we met.”

After all the screaming and rejection, now he trusted him without hesitation. Warren was too exasperated to be surprised by such flexibility. Simple… or maybe just honest. Either way, it made him suddenly worry for the boy.

“Demons aren’t like monsters,” Warren said. “Monsters are easy to understand, they look terrifying, and they tear people and animals apart to eat them. But demons are different. They slip into the cracks in people’s hearts, confuse them, and lead them to ruin. They don’t always look scary, and that’s exactly why you shouldn’t trust them so easily.”

“But you helped me,” the child insisted, lips pursed.

“Yes, but demons are…”

“Then what are you, Warren?” the boy cut in, pointing at him.

Warren was momentarily thrown. What was he? He was neither fully demon nor human just a half-formed thing stuck between the two. Why was he even here?

“I wonder that myself,” he muttered.

The boy tilted his head. “You’re a weird demon.”

“Why do you say that?”

The boy kicked a stone along the ground.

“Because you are. You say demons are bad, but you still helped me. And I’ve never heard of a demon who goes to church.”

Warren gave a wry smile.

“Sundays get boring. And… it helps me not forget what it means to be human.”

“Even though you’re a demon?”

The boy glanced up at him.

“I’m half demon, half human. So half of me is human.”

“Wow,” the boy said, nodding in fascination.

“There aren’t many like me,” Warren added.

Half-demon children, if discovered before their powers awakened, were usually killed in the name of God while still infants. The fact that he’d been raised by humans was nothing short of a miracle.

“You should head home now. It’s long past noon Doris must be worried sick.”

The boy nodded and took Warren’s hand, beginning to walk. The road was the same for a while, but Warren hadn’t expected the child to want to walk beside him. Maybe he was still scared. Though part-demon himself, Warren couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought that he might be one of the frightening things in the boy’s eyes.

Just before they reached the fork in the road, the boy came to a stop. It was as if he didn’t want to let go of Warren’s hand. Warren was about to offer to walk him the rest of the way when the boy turned his small head.

“Can I come visit sometime?”

Warren was startled.

“I want to see the angel Kyle. He can’t leave that house, right? That’s sad.”

“But…”

Warren hesitated. There were rules when it came to keeping secrets. If you truly didn’t want something to be known, you told no one. That was how secrets stayed safe. Promises like “I’ll never tell” were just words not to be trusted.

But this boy had already met Kyle. He already knew what Warren truly was. There was nothing more to hide. And if he came to visit, Kyle might speak. That angel, who hadn’t uttered a word to Warren in thirty years not since the day he’d screamed “I never want to hear a demon’s voice again!” and sealed his mouth against him completely.

Bringing the child into the complicated relationship between the two of them also meant introducing a degree of risk. If the boy, even on a whim, started telling the village that Warren was a demon, he would no longer be able to live there. He already had to change his home every ten years anyway, since after the age of twenty-five his appearance had stopped aging but even so, he didn’t want to leave this village. He wanted to stay here for as long as he possibly could. Because this place was...

“Aren’t you scared?”

It was a question meant to probe how the boy saw him, but the child misunderstood.

“Not scared at all. Because if something happens, you’ll come help me, right, Warren?”

That guileless smile. It had been so long since Warren had felt what it was like to be trusted. The feeling quietly spread through his body, warm and soothing, washing away his hesitation. He realized something obvious: you can’t gain trust if you never offer it first. Warren placed his hand on the child’s forehead and murmured a spell.

“I’ve cast a spell on you.”

The boy blinked in surprise.

“I’ve put a magic barrier on the northern path that prevents people from passing. But now, when you walk that path, the spell will lift just for you. So if you ever want to come visit, use the northern path. Never go through the Forest of Oliva again. Next time, even I might not be able to save you. Also, after sunset, monsters gather around that house. You can come any time during the day, but make sure to head home before the sun sets.”

The child nodded solemnly.

“If you can follow those two rules: don’t go through the forest, and go home before dark then I’ll always welcome your visits.”

Seeing the boy’s face light up with joy, Warren felt a twinge of guilt. He was trying to use the child as a bridge. A bridge that might bring the beautiful angel to speak with him again. Just maybe, through this child, something like a conversation could be revived between them. The thought made him smirk bitterly.

Even if the boy did wedge himself into the gap between them, there was no way that angel would ever forgive him. Warren knew that better than anyone.

“Run along now. Doris must be worried.”

“Okay!”

The boy nodded big and turned on his heel.

“See you, Warren!”

He waved energetically, then began to run. Partway down the road, he suddenly stopped and looked back, shouting with all his might:

“My name’s Snair, Warren!”

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