Shimmer’s heart beat in his ears as he walked alongside the man who set him free. The robes that symbolized his captivity dragged along the ground. The further he walked away from The Broken Swan, the more tattered they became. Shimmer kept his eyes to the ground despite not having to; it was hard to break habits that had been beaten into you. He figured out where they were by the roads. The dirt roads of the deep slum changed into broken paving in the red light district, and the stone-paved road of the town center.

  He couldn’t help but feel suspicious of where he was taken. He didn’t know a single noble who took care of hybrids like the man in front of him claimed he was doing. Hybrids were legally people, but they were seen as useless by the general population, especially the nobles. Shimmer couldn’t blame them for that, though. Most hybrids came out wrong. They usually didn’t have the good attributes of humans or demons, Shimmer included.

  “Here we are.” The man’s deadpan voice broke the silence, followed by the creaking of a metal gate. Shimmer took a deep breath, preparing for a life of servitude under a pervert who got off to giving his slaves false hope.

  “Papa!” “Baba!”

  Shimmer’s head snapped up at the sound of children rushing towards them. They were hybrids. One might have been a spirit fox, but the other was definitely a hybrid. So was the woman who lumbered behind them. They were all clean, well-dressed, and free of bruises. Judging by the way the children threw themselves at the man, they weren’t mistreated either. This was… strange. A pure blooded noble human would never treat hybrids this well.

  As if sensing his unease, the large woman put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She nodded, as if to confirm that this was how things worked around here. As if to tell him that the horrors were over. “And who’s this?” Her voice boomed, deep yet feminine. Like a caring big sister.

  “Oh, right. This is Shimmer. He will be staying with us from now on.” Shimmer froze as everyone’s attention turned to him. Was this really okay? Wouldn’t they be upset that someone like him intruded on their daily lives? He wasn’t young and cute like the children, and he probably couldn’t help out as much as the woman.

  “Hello! I’m Pail, and this is my lil’ sister Primrose! That’s our Papa and that’s Aunty Rowboat!” The young boy, apparently Pail, babbled on excitedly. “You’re so pretty! Why do you have a horn? How old are you? Are you a boy or a girl? Are you going to be our brother or sister or something else?” He kept getting closer and closer the more questions he asked, until he was yoinked back by the man.

  “Ah… uhm… I’m a boy… and I just turned 15. I am half oni, so that’s why I have the horn… I don’t know about the other thing…” Shimmer responded the best he could while hiding the lower half of his face with his fan. His fan had become a soothing mechanism for him; hiding himself with it made him feel safe.

  Rowboat winced at Shimmer’s voice and the knowledge that he was a boy in the midst of puberty. She had heard whispers of castratos being popular amongst nobles, but she hadn’t thought much about it until now. It sank in how horrific the practice of stunting a boy’s growth like this truly was. He wouldn’t grow up properly, and he would have to live with the stigma his entire life. Rowboat felt like ending up here was nothing short of a miracle for the boy. If he ended up anywhere else, he’d end up broken.

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  “Those robes look uncomfortable. I have some clothes inside that you can borrow. They're too big for you, so we’ll buy you your own clothes tomorrow.” The man, Norman, explained as they walked through the front door. The house was warm and comforting, yet strangely orderly. “Pail, take Shimmer to pick out something from my closet.” The man told the half-harpy boy before turning back to Shimmer. “You would feel more comfortable with him helping you, right?”

  Before he could respond, he was dragged upstairs by a tiny hand. When he looked at Pail’s dark hand in his light one, he couldn’t help but think of the contrast between them. Pail was young and innocent, while he was dirty and broken. Shimmer felt himself getting angry. Why was this boy saved while he was still innocent? Why didn’t he get the same treatment? He felt terrible for being angry. He should be grateful to be saved at all. Almost nobody makes it out of the pit.

  Shimmer looked down at the clothes in his hands. A simple white shirt and brown pants. They were too big for him, but he wouldn’t have any problem wearing them. He had worn elaborate robes for so long that wearing pants felt foreign to him. Foreign but good. It made him feel more masculine, even if it was just a little bit.

  “Ooo, this is real purdy! What is this?” Pail asked as he reached out for the ornate folding fan resting on the bed. Before he reached it, though, it was roughly snatched away by Shimmer.

  “DON’T TOUCH THAT!” Shimmer yelled much louder than he had intended to. His heart sank as he saw the shocked expression on the little boy’s face. He didn’t mean to startle him or be mean, but his fan was too important to be handled by a child.

  “Is it your treasure?” Pail asked, not seeming all that bothered by it after the initial shock at the loud noise. He had been yelled at by much louder, bigger, and scarier people more times than he could count. This wasn’t anywhere near enough to upset him.

  “Yeah. It’s my treasure. So don’t touch it.” Shimmer softened his voice as he held the fan close to his chest. Pail didn’t seem upset, but he was still guilty. The boy hadn’t done anything wrong; nobody here had. Shimmer didn’t want to be so on edge; he didn’t want to lash out and be punished.

  “Okay! I also have a treasure! Primrose does, too! I would be sad if someone touched my treasure, so I get it! Come, come! It’s time for dinner!”

  Shimmer sat at the dinner table and looked down at the plate in front of him. It wasn’t what he expected nobles to eat. It was a simple vegetable soup with bread on the side. There was something comforting about the simplicity, or was it the sound of a normal family chattering around him that was comforting?

  “Alright. Who wants to do the thanking today?” The man flanked by two children, Norman, asked everyone at the table. Shimmer didn’t know what he meant, so he stayed quiet. Maybe this was something nobles did? He hadn’t been educated on it, if that was the case.

  “Me! Memememe!” Pail raised his hands excitedly. When he was given the okay, he pushed his chair out and stood on the floor in front of it. “Thank you, Papa, for cooking dinner and helping us with our daily lesson! Thank you, Rowboat, for helping us with the bath and clothes today! Thank you, Primrose, for practicing hard learning numbers! Thank you, Shimmer, for coming to live with us!” He announced loudly before sitting back down.

  “Thank you, Pail, for being so welcoming towards Shimmer,” Norman responded. As soon as the last word left his mouth, everyone dug into their food. Shimmer had no idea what had just happened.

  Sensing the boy’s confusion, Norman explained what they were doing while tearing Primrose’s bread into toddler-sized pieces. “Every time we eat dinner, we pick someone to thank everyone for something kind and helpful they did today. My parents used to do the same with me.” It was a tradition Norman had with his family, but when his family did it, it became more about flaunting their accomplishments instead of just appreciating each other. Thank father for working hard to support the family, thank mother for clothing and feeding me, thank Norman for being at the top of your class.

  Shimmer didn’t really understand what that accomplished, but he decided it was best not to question things too much. He took a tiny bite of his soup, savoring the taste of the salted carrots and potatoes. He couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on someone else's family, and that he didn’t belong here. Did they really want him around, or was all of this just out of pity? He didn’t know. What he did know, though, was that the soup was warm, and this was a place where hybrids were treated as family.