The elves went their separate way after thanking us for helping them. They were most cheery with Boe and Elyvia, distrustful of me. I kept my distance until they were gone.

As we continued our journey, I let my horse fall beside Boe. "How did you become a cleric, Boe?"

He gave me a smile. "Oh, I reckon just another blessing of Chauntea. I've always wanted to do good, heal people, work the land. That's what she's all about you know—workin' the land."

I smiled, without teeth. "So you were doubly blessed by her? To be an earth genasi, and a cleric, I mean."
He beamed, and happily told me about his faith, about how he honored her by his deeds and his works. He was warm and cheerful, and I liked him.

But I couldn't shake my distaste. He praised Chauntea for helping to save so many of his town, for guiding refugees to Loudwater. How many of the dead had prayed to a god, and their prayers didn't matter?

Things I shouldn't have said to Reyne.

Hells, I missed him more than I could say—and more than he deserved.

We came across the odd traveler, sometimes an elven scout who warned us of giants looking for ancient relics in the forest. We freely shared information of our travels with them, warning of any dangers we found or what seemed prevalent.

Elyvia commented that we were near the territory of a semi-permanent settlement by one of the Uthgardt tribes. Upon hearing the name "Tree Ghost", Boe perked up and mentioned that they had been friendly to the Uluvin refugees.

We could have avoided them, but given what we knew of them, decided to meet with them. Boe was correct about their friendly nature—to everyone but me anyway. We met with a group of armed sentries and while they were talkative, answering questions about the forest and remarking on the weather, I noticed they watched me closely, and the one nearest to me rested a hand on her ax. She seemed nervous more than outright hateful, and I wasn't sure that was any better.

One glanced at my neck, tapped another and made a series of signs with his hands. The woman looked back at me and said, "He's wondering why a tiefling is wearing a metal collar."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, they're absolutely the height of fashion where I'm from."

She was not as amused by my sarcastic reply as I was. "And where is that?"

"Thay. Lovely weather. Some beautiful cities, excellent food. Shame about all the necromancy and the slavery, but nowhere is perfect."

By their expressions, they had never even heard of the place. Lucky them, I supposed. They had grown up wild and free. How could they even understand?

I rubbed my temples. I was getting dangerously close to self-pity again. I had to stop. I shook my head and made myself look up and watch the sunlight dapple through the leaves. If I just focused on what made the world beautiful, it didn't feel so bleak.

Some of the others were talking to the tribe. Boe was most curious about their customs and Terese their warrior culture and training. Elyvia chatted amiably about local hunting and the terrain. As we were welcomed into the camp and the horses left in a community corral, I noticed I drew many a curious stare, if not a disgusted curl of the lip. If they whispered prayers, they did it further than I could hear beyond the sounds of the camp of large yurts and odd wooden community structures.

Some children played warriors with sticks.

We were greeted first by a shaman. She said, "Our scouts saw you coming. Thank you for meeting with us. I am Yura." She was pretty, the sort of person who looked younger than they were despite rough living. "Come. My brother wishes to meet you too. He's Chieftain Gorthrane."

We were led into a large yurt, the sides of the tent rolled up to let in the air and the light, but to block out the sun from above. He seemed as if he were just settling, as if he had come to meet us from some other task. He was a big bear of a man with an impressive beard and tattoos along one side of his head and face in his tribe's style. He had a network of old war and hunting wounds on his body. He grinned when he saw Elyvia. "My nephew said there was an Everlight approaching, so I had to meet you myself."

Elyvia strutted forward, fiercely proud of her heritage. I didn't know why; it wasn't like she had accomplished much by being born one way. She held herself proudly. "Yes. I'm Elyvia of Everlight. These are my companions." I almost choked. The way she spoke was as if we were her subordinates. "Terese, Boe… and Valac." My name was accompanied with a note of obvious distaste.

I tried not to let it bother me, but maybe it did.

Gorthrane gestured around the tent. "Well met. Have a seat. We will bring food and drink." We found seats among the cushions or rugs that made up the yurt floor. He sat down in a large chair adorned with a bear hide. "Are those your clan axes?" he asked Elyvia.

She gave an arrogant, self-important smirk. "Yes. They were a last gift from my mother, before she disappeared."

"When did you last see her?"
She sighed. "Almost a year ago. I had managed to track her last location near here. She was hunting something that escaped from Hellgate Dell, but the trail ran cold."

I looked on her with sympathy, for how could I not when someone worried after a loved one? I said, "Is that why you're always so hostile to me? I assure you, I've never even heard of Hellgate Dell."

She snorted. "Only the fiendish and fey spawn in Hellgate Dell. And I've never known a one of them that wasn't a liar." She gave me a stern, iron expression. "It is my sworn duty to eliminate them and their vile spawn from this plane."

My lips parted in shock. She just openly admitted to planning genocide. And no one else seemed to hear it, or even notice. Or maybe just didn't care. No one cares about us.

I felt only sadness. "My parents were human," I pleaded. And you've killed more people than I ever will.

Despite that her last comment had been aimed directly at me, she ground her teeth. "This isn't about you." The emphasis she placed on the word told me all I needed to know.

I wanted to scream. Why did I have to be a stunning picture of perfection, just for them to not have a knife to my throat? Why did I have to be exemplary, just for them to not kill me? Just trying to live wasn't enough. I had to constantly prove I wasn't evil too.

She looked back at Gorthrane. She said, as natural as breathing, "You mentioned food?"

I wasn't hungry when it arrived, and didn't hear much of the rest of what the two said, had no interest in it. She only tolerated me nearby so she could watch me and wait for me to betray her. Why would she think that about me?

I stared at my cherry red hands. I had relatively human fingernails. Very little of the rest of me didn't look devilish. I had this one tiny human trait, and all the rest were tiefling. Some tieflings didn't have tails or horns. Some didn't have fangs. Some looked entirely tiefling, like me, but had human eyes. It was a cruel jape of fate that my one human trait were just fingernails. I'd rather have my skin be the earthy brown of my mother than that of fresh blood.

I jerked up. She had brown skin? Dark hair?

My heart fell. Or was I just imagining that? I had been at most five years old the last time I had seen her. It was not possible that I would remember what she looked like. I was probably thinking of someone else and superimposing some of my own features on there, for surely some of my appearance must be from her.

Gorthrane glanced at Terese. "You bear the emblems of the Loudwater guard. I assume you go to the Uluvin camp."

Terese nodded. "Yes. We need to discuss a few matters with them."

Boe cleared his throat. "And, if you don't mind, I would appreciate your wisdom regarding some of it too."

They spoke of Boe's mission, Telbor's orders, and Gorthrane and Yura gave him advice, and told a tale of how the Blue Bears came to be.

The entire thing felt aimed directly at me.

I knew it wasn't, but the tale was long, of betrayal and hardship, of being tricked by a hag. The story twisted around curses and demonic allies. An insidious and intentional breeding of the humans in the Blue Bear tribe with demons. It all led back to Hellgate, and the destruction of it, an alliance formed to seek its destruction.

During the story, food was brought. I picked idly at a strip of cured venison.

Elyvia nodded along throughout. Some of the story was old hat to her, but she hadn't heard their version of it. She said, "My parents met under your sacred Grandfather Tree. My mother fought in Hellgate." A superior smirk at these "lesser humans". She said, "House Everlight has long been dedicated to persecution of those bearing fiendish blood and the eradication of their taint to secure the forest."

I shrank back into myself miserably. How could she so casually mention she murdered any tiefling she came across? Had we met under different circumstances, on the road, would she have just attacked me, only for the way I looked? And everyone acted like she was correct for doing it, like there was nothing at all perverse about it.

No one, not even Boe, even batted a damned eye.

Yura said, "Elyvia, if your mother was tracking something from Hellgate, it might be a remnant of the great evil trapped within it."

Elyvia nodded seriously. "It is why I worry for her. I would have continued the search but—" She shrugged helplessly. "It ran cold." She glanced at me. "Right around when I got to Loudwater."

I wanted Reyne worse than anything. I wanted to fall into his arms and scream and cry, and for him to kiss my tears in the dark, and to force me to pull myself together. But I didn't have him, so I couldn't break down. Not now.

Yura said, "I may be able to find a way to aid you in your search, if you've a memento of your mother, something she has touched."

Elyvia patted one of her axes. "These were hers."

"Yes, that will do." Maybe Yura saw something on my face, for her face became soft. "You see, those in the forest have a troubled history with fiends. So maybe you can understand our suspicion."

Gorthrane snorted. "Among many of us, yes. But among some of the Bluebear, his blood might even be of aid were you to treat with them. Given your appearance."

I couldn't bear this any longer. It all felt too much. I felt like I was well over my head and drowning. I stood up. "I'll be outside."

Yura looked on me with pity. Pity I did not want, no matter what Reyne insisted. Gorthrane's voice was loud, the mark of a commander. "It is in his nature to be discontent. Yet so long as his deeds are good, we've no quarrel. Elyvia has allowed him to live."

As if her opinion was all that mattered, when she had laughed when people were eaten.

Yura's voice was softer. "He cannot help the burden he carries."

I hated all of them. And I had never hated anyone.

#

The hate faded, but my resentment didn't. Boe at least came out shortly after me to keep me company and sympathy, but we didn't talk about it. He didn't ask. I didn't bring it up.

A tribesman walked past and stared at me. At my appearance, or the collar? I couldn't say.

I sighed and looked down.

Boe said, "There must be some way to get the collar off you," he mused. He had his carving knife out and was working on a block of wood he had foraged on our trek. He had been whittling it the past night or so.

My eyes widened and my spine went rigid. "No."

He jerked, clearly surprised by my reaction. "No?" His earthy features twisted into that of confusion. "Why?" His eyes flicked to my neck. "I would think…"

I shook my head, relaxing. I looked away. "It would… change things. Not for the better." I made a face. "Should my master ever come to collect me, a haircut and removing this collar would make all the difference between being seen as a runaway, or just being seen as lost."

"We won't let him take you."

Hysterical laughter threatened to burst out of my throat. With great effort, I choked it down. "I appreciate the sentiment." I didn't want to destroy his ego.

Boe presented me with a small carved warhound. I smiled when I saw it, my thumb rubbing against its smooth sides. It wasn't expert work, but it had been made just for me.

It occurred to me, as I looked at it, that no one had ever given me something like this.

Boe said, "You all right, Val?"

I almost dropped it. "Yeah."

"You didn't look all right."

I smiled. "I'm fine. Just kind of a bad day for me." I looked back at the carving. "It's cute. I like it."

I hesitated, then I removed, from the bottom of my coin purse, a small carved wooden cat. I held it between finger and thumb, so he could see it. "Practically a pair."

He smiled. "Didn't know you had that."

I looked at it, compared to the dog. "I was about eight, maybe. In Eltabbar. I was with my master at the markets, on the way to my first tattoo, and I was frightened. He stopped to talk to another Red Wizard, and the shop vendor was distracted. Anyone would be. There were these little wooden figures. Wyverns, dragons, things like that. And this little black cat with quartz eyes, something ordinary—like it didn't belong." I stared at the faded figure of the cat, worn smooth over years of my worrying at it. "It had black hair like me, and red and green eyes, like me." I smiled. "I stole it. The paint's gone and I pried out the quartz to buy beer when I was a teenager." I glanced at him. He had a look on his face as if this was a sad story, and I realized, in many ways, it was. I struggled to say something, anything, after that. He was looking at me with pity, and I hated it. So I forced a smile. "And so began my life of petty crime."

It had the desired effect; he chuckled, and he talked about whittling small toys for the village kids in his free time. I asked him for stories about Uluvin, and he indulged. It was nice to hear stories from a relatively normal childhood, a normal life.

The others were inside a bit longer and came out together. Terese told Boe and I that they were going to some hidden island nearby, to a viewing pool to gain a vision of Elyvia's mother. "We" were invited to observe, so long as "we" were respectful.

I knew that didn't include me. To avoid being told I couldn't go, I said, "I'll stay with the horses. Are we here for the night then?"
"Yes, it's a safe place to camp and we're welcome."

"We" did not include me. I forced a smile. "It will be nice to get a whole night's sleep."

There was only so long I could spend brushing the horses, only so long I could bear someone always watching me, following me from a distance. I wanted to scream. I climbed into a large tree at the outskirts of the camp and hid myself in the branches. My back against the trunk, I slunk down.

I was throwing a tantrum, and I knew it.

They had good reasons and a long vitriolic history of why they didn't trust anyone of fiendish blood; they had betrayed them before, and it had been catastrophic.

I knew that, but even my sympathy had limits.

Elyvia had thrown so many barbs at me, and knew I could not react. She did nothing but belittle me and ridicule my existence, and no one ever defended me.

Aela wanted to "cure" me. Elyvia wanted to kill me. Terese might stop her, but she didn't defend me against her words. Boe was sympathetic to my plight, but he was just as guilty of standing idly by.

Did they both agree?

I sharpened every blade I had, sitting in the tree. The rhythmic activity calmed me down.

I had sharpened all the blades I could usefully sharpen, and still I needed something more to do. Something to keep me from dwelling on the inevitable—I did not belong here.

Reyne had once asked me if it hurt that he had to be caught doing something visibly, indisputably evil before people wouldn't want to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he was an aasimar. And I had to be a hero before people wouldn't hurl insults at me. I was limited by my birth.

Aela had once asked me if I could, would I change that I was a tiefling. I still wouldn't, but I had never felt as tempted.

I felt alone and misunderstood, and like no one actually cared to try. If no matter what I did, everyone thought poorly of me, what did anything I do even matter?

Because it's the right thing to do. You have to keep doing it, because it's the right thing to do.

The collar felt like it was choking me.

#

The others didn't arrive until after dark, when I had pitched our large four-person tent somewhere my guard pointed out to me.

I didn't really care about whatever Elyvia had found, and she seemed quiet and introspective, but not distraught, so I assumed it wasn't bad news. Sometimes, context is all you really need.

Elyvia wanted to sleep under the stars instead of the tent. I climbed back in my tree, laying down that time like a lazy cat.

No one who was kind and good would ever accept me. No one who believed in the balance of nature would ever accept me.

Talia?

My heart warmed. Talia was good and kind, and when she looked at me, she might see some lesser mortal, but she still saw a person. She had never been afraid of the way I looked. People in Ten Towns were superstitious about my appearance, but with where they lived, they weren't able to be prejudiced, and they weren't for long. There, my deeds at least had mattered.

I never should have left.

I was able to pull myself together by morning, when we left. A smile kept me from crying. A laugh kept me from screaming. Jokes kept me from driving a dagger through Elyvia's eye.

The last violent thought I shoved away as intrusive and unwanted. I didn't want to hurt or kill anyone. Elyvia was unkind and cruel, but did she deserve that?

I thought of the way she had laughed when the Zhentarim was eaten.

I couldn't say.

The longer I pretended like nothing was the matter with me, the more it felt like there wasn't.

The path we tread through the forest was not free of dangers, but despite my own misgivings about the others, I had to admit we fought well together. Undead ogres meant little to us. The odd gnoll hunting party only meant a bit more because they could think tactically.

The Uluvin camp was well-supplied and gave a hearty welcome to Boe. He and Terese went to discuss things with the mayor of the camp, such as it was.

We turned out our horses and I walked around the camp. They were working on winterizing the place, as they fully expected to be stuck there for some time. Boe had said that Uluvin was in ruins, and they were afraid to go back until the hill giants that roamed the area were dealt with. Much of their livestock was gone from the raid.

I thought of the people thrown into that barrel in Ten Towns. They were lucky that most of the people had survived. The village in Ten Towns probably hadn't had enough cows and goats to make it worth it to the creatures, and hill giants were ever hungry and greedy.

The camp was at least well-defended. Boe had mentioned that he had used the pooled resources left to the townsfolk to hire on guards from Loudwater and supply wagons. I stayed back a fair distance, watching some children at play. They were involved in a game of chase as they climbed around a large sprouting nurse tree. The game, to some degree, involved climbing the branches of the trees after the other kids. It was a messy, loud game that left them all grinning and laughing. I liked watching them so happy and carefree. I hoped they lived their lives just like that. They had already survived the loss of their homes, some their loved ones. I hoped their futures were brighter.

I couldn't remember ever playing like that. I couldn't remember running and chasing another kid and laughing.

I remembered being chased. And I remembered how afraid I was that they would catch me. And I was so relieved—so incredibly relieved—when I had that leather collar on, and other kids my age who would have tried to push me down or hit me before instead left me alone. They didn't want to get in trouble for damaging a Red Wizard's property. I hadn't cared that I was a slave; I wasn't coming home with bruises or breathing hard and frightened.

Foulspawn. Devilspawn. Fiendblood. Horn-head. A thousand other derogatory names. I knew that many cultures had terrible histories borne of my devilish ancestry, but how was that my fault? I knew that when they looked at me, all their stories about pain and suffering by a devil's hands seemed so close to fruition. Like I represented some vile tempter or a deceiver.

Everyone saw me as a monster. They were all just waiting for me to step ever so slightly out of line so they could kill me without remorse or doubt. The only person who had ever looked at me and didn't see a monster first was Reyne.

Never known a fiend who didn't lie.

I was a terrible liar.

It's not about you.

I kept making it about me in my head, because so many barbed comments were aimed my way. How could I not become defensive when I was constantly attacked? Why did I have to just endure this every damned time?

Why is it that when someone pointed a sword at me, I had to smile and endure it?

My fingers clenched, then I relaxed slowly.

This was so hard. It was so impossibly difficult. I wanted to just take my horse and once we got to the road, ride hard all the way back to Bryn Shandor.

But I couldn't.

Reyne was in danger. He just didn't know the half of it yet.

And did I care more about the people in Loudwater and the people I was traveling with, than Reyne? Did I care more about Reyne than I hated what I had seen in his church?