“I heard a lot of good things about this place,” Markus says as he walks toward what looks like a solid wall. There is no door, just a massive hole people casually step through.

  “Apparently an ogre punched that opening in during a fight two years ago. They never fixed it. Said it adds character.”

  The three of them step inside. The building is overflowing with people packed shoulder to shoulder, the air buzzing with chatter and clinking dishes.

  “Why are there so many people?” Liddle asks, glancing around.

  “This place is famous,” Markus replies.

  After waiting an hour, they finally slide into a booth meant for four. Liddle pulls back her hood and folds it neatly onto her lap.

  A waiter rushes over, breathing hard but still forcing a polite smile. “Sorry for the wait. We’ve been extremely busy. Can I start you with some water?”

  “Water would be lovely,” Markus says. “But I also heard you have a local brew people rave about. I think it was called Sira?”

  The waiter brightens. “Yes, sir. We’ve been making it here for five hundred years. Completely safe for kids, too.”

  “Perfect. We’ll take three of those as well.” Markus nods.

  The waiter hesitates, his eyes drifting to Markus’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to ask, but… what happened there? I’ve never seen a wound like that. It looks like something pierced straight through. Almost like an arrow, but smaller… and faster.”

  “That’s a long story. I made someone mad, they kidnapped some kids. Nothing too serious. Just… adventure stuff.” Markus gives a small shrug. “But I’m sure you’ve got a story or two yourself.”

  “Actually, yeah,” the waiter says, straightening a little. “I was one of the guys who fought that ogre. Thing was twenty feet tall. We stabbed its legs until it fell, then took its club, sharpened it into a spear, and stabbed it right in the eye.”

  Sounds nice,” Markus replies dryly. “I hope it doesn’t get boring having to tell that story all the time.”

  He offers his hand. “I’m Markus, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

  The waiter freezes. “Markus… wait. You don’t mean the wielder of the Life-Giving Blade, Markus?”

  Markus scratches his cheek. “Yeah. That’s me.”

  “Nice to meet you. Let me get your drinks ready.”

  The waiter hurries off. Markus slips an arm around Liddle and gently pulls her closer against his side in the booth. The man returns quickly with their drinks.

  When the food arrives, the table looks less like a meal and more like a small festival that decided to sit down.

  Skewers of lamb rest across a clay platter, their edges charred and glistening, sending up a smoky aroma that curls through the air. Beside them lie rounds of warm flatbread stacked like folded maps, their surfaces blistered from the oven’s heat. A wooden board holds olives dark as ink, wedges of crumbly sheep cheese, and a scatter of fresh herbs still smelling of the hillside they were plucked from.

  A squat pot of stew bubbles softly, thick with onions and grain, while bowls of dried figs and roasted chickpeas wait for wandering hands. At the center stands a chilled pitcher of ayran, beads of condensation sliding down its sides, as if even the drink is sweating in anticipation of being poured.

  “This is incredible. Thank you,” Markus says, watching the waiter slip away to tend another table.

  “You know what’s nice?” Markus adds, glancing at his wife. “It’s nice to finally be somewhere you can walk around without hiding those cute horns of yours.”

  He takes another bite from his skewer.

  Sally struggles to pull a piece of meat from her stick, so Markus gently cuts it in half for her.

  “Markus… do you think I can ever be seen as normal here?”

  Liddle watches the crowd. On Earth, someone would have screamed if she walked around with her horns and tail uncovered.

  Here, no one gives her a second glance.

  “Do you feel normal?” Markus asks gently. “You should feel like this is home. It’d be nice if we finally found one for you.”

  Liddle folds her hands together. “People are nice to me… but I noticed I’m the only demon in town. It makes me feel like they’re only kind because I’m the wielder’s wife. I don’t know if I can trust that.”

  Markus lifts her chin with two fingers. “It’s okay. Take your time. What you went through on Earth… it was awful.”

  Liddle shakes her head softly. “You made Earth feel nice. I didn’t hate my time there. But Hehl…”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Her voice thins. The word barely survives her lips. Her tail tightens around her ankle without her noticing.

  “It’s okay,” Markus says again.

  “All I need to know is that you’re the best wife a guy could ask for,” he adds with a small smile. “And I’ll have to stay sharp. Every guy here would want someone like you.”

  He kisses her gently.

  “Can we come back here? The food is yummy,” Sally says, leaning over the booth.

  Markus laughs. “Of course. It’s good to see you getting used to your new life.”

  “Can Kanna come next time? She’d love the music they’re playing in the street.”

  “Maybe someday.”

  Later, as the sun dips low and paints the city gold, they carry their unfinished food outside. They sit on a bench at the edge of town. Sally runs off to talk with other children near the fountain.

  Liddle curls against Markus, both hands resting on his chest.

  “Hey, Markus…”

  She watches a girl playing a flute beneath a lantern.

  “That looks nice. Do you think I could learn to play?” Liddle asks, watching the girl’s fingers move over the holes.

  “If you want, we can ask her how it works and where to get one.” Markus starts to stand, but Liddle gently pushes him back down onto the bench.

  “No, no, no. It’s okay. I don’t want to bother them.”

  “I’m sure she’d love to talk about music.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t want to bother her.”

  Liddle searches through the crowd. Even though no one is staring at her horns or tail, no one whispering, no one judging, something still feels wrong.

  Deep within the sea of faces, she catches it.

  A shadow.

  Not just any demon.

  “Markus, we have to go.”

  “Wait, what’s going—”

  “Now.”

  Her hand is already trembling when Markus grabs it and opens a portal.

  “Hey, Sally. We’re heading home,” he calls calmly, masking the sudden shift in the air.

  Liddle darts through the portal like something is chasing her.

  When Sally steps through after them, Markus kneels beside her.

  “Did you see anything?” he asks quietly.

  Sally shakes her head. “No.”

  Markus’s jaw tightens. He turns toward the house.

  “Liddle?”

  He finds her in their room, shaking in a way he hasn’t seen in a long time, curled beneath the bed as if trying to disappear.

  Markus kneels and reaches under gently, placing his hands over hers.

  “Liddle… what’s going on?”

  “I saw him. He’s after me. I know it.”

  Liddle clings to her husband so tightly he can barely breathe.

  A knock sounds at the door.

  Liddle flinches.

  “Stay here,” Markus says gently. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  He kisses her forehead, checks the Mahoishi in his pocket, and heads for the door.

  When he opens it, a green demon stands there, a full foot taller than Markus. His horns are nearly the size of his head. Black and red clothes hang from him, lined with chains and zippers. It’s obvious he isn’t from around here.

  “Hello there,” the demon says calmly. “I was looking for my sister.”

  “I’m sorry,” Markus replies, polite but firm. “She’s not in a talking mood. I don’t know much about her family, but what she’s told me hasn’t exactly been positive.”

  “I understand,” the demon says in a low voice. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Abel of the Glacies household.”

  His eyes settle on Markus.

  “You must be that human I’ve heard about. The one brave enough to touch her horns.”

  Abel glances down at the ground.

  “We didn’t exactly get along when we lived in Hehl. She was a…”

  He pauses, choosing his words carefully.

  “Our parents didn’t view her in the best light.”

  He exhales slowly.

  “I can see this isn’t the best time. I came to talk about a way she could return to Hehl.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I’m not sure if you realize this,” Abel continues quietly, “but she was banished to Earth. And she left it.”

  His eyes lift.

  “They could kill her for that.”

  Markus’s fingers twitch near his pocket.

  The Mahoishi glows faintly as he activates it.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “Sorry,” Abel says quickly, raising a hand. “I mean no harm.”

  He steps back slightly.

  “Another time, perhaps. If you can… convince Liddle to hear me out, I would be grateful.”

  He bows, then turns and walks away.

  “Either way,” Abel says without looking back, “there is much we must discuss.”

  He disappears into the street.

  Markus stares at the door for a long moment before closing it.

  Then he heads upstairs.

  “Hey… that was your brother.”

  “I know.”

  Her voice comes quietly from beneath the bed.

  Markus lowers himself to the floor so he can see her.

  “He left. He said something about wanting you to return to Hehl.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Liddle mutters. “Have a nice day.”

  “Liddle.”

  His voice softens.

  “You know I’m on your side. I’m not going to let anyone take you. If you want to talk to Abel, or never talk to Abel again, that’s your choice. But… can you tell me what happened?”

  There’s a long pause.

  “I was beaten,” she whispers. “It made Mom and Dad happy.”

  Her tail curls tightly around her ankle, like it’s trying to protect something that isn’t there anymore. The words break apart as tears swallow the rest.

  Markus shifts closer, offering his body as shelter, as if he could block out memories the same way he blocks blades.

  He doesn’t speak.

  He just stays there on the floor, half beneath the bed with her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other resting gently over her shaking hands.

  After a moment, his fingers brush his pocket, checking that the Mahoishi is still there.

  He doesn’t know when he’ll need it again.

  But he knows he’ll be ready when he does.