Tam Song spun around. There was someone here; he could feel it. But who. . . ?
A hand clapped over his mouth. Alvar. "What are you doing here, Shade?" a voice hissed in his ear. In reply, Tam opened his mouth and bit down hard. The hand pulled away and the Neverseen Vanisher cried out in pain.
His shouts stopped abruptly. Alvar had been pushed up against a tree by a boy, maybe a year or so older than himself.
"The Nephilim have no place here," Alvar growled.*
The boy took a step back, as if startled.
"That's what you are, isn't it? Unless. . ." Alvar's eyes widened. "Demigod? But no, you can't be, you move with the same panther-like grace as a Nephilim."
The boy stepped forward, pulling a knife out of his jacket. He pressed it against Alvar's throat. "Be glad I'm in a good mood," the boy hissed, "or you'd be dead. I'll let you go, but next time don't expect me to be so lenient." He stepped back, and Alvar fled.
Then the boy looked at Tam, who started to back away. He felt a hand on his shoulder and swung around. How had he gotten there so fast?
"Are you alright?" He sounded concerned. Tam nodded quickly. "You're wounded. Let me treat it."
Tam was confused. What did this boy mean? Then he realized. This boy was some sort of healer. "Y-yes. Thank you."
"Nico," he said, holding out a hand.
"Tam." He shook it.
"Why are you out here, elf?"
"I could ask you the same."
"But I'm not an elf."
". . .then what are you?"
The boy smiled kindly. "I'm a demigod."
"What's a. . . ?"
The smile faded. "Th-that's not important. Your wounds should probably be seen to right away."
He was avoiding the question but Tam decided to ignore it. He'd ask Sophie later.
AN: *I plan on making a story where Nico's mom was an angel with her wings cut off, and when he came of age, he would get wings. And Nephilim means half-angel, essentially.