Elsa was four when the first real accident happened.
Edward had taken a small escort job—merchant caravan, short distance, low
risk. He rarely traveled far anymore, but coin was coin, and children
needed more than bread.
He had left Elsa with Mrs. Harlan for the afternoon.
It should have been safe.
It always was.
Until it wasn't.
---
The Horn
Mrs. Harlan was in the kitchen when she heard it.
A crash.
Then silence.
Not the normal silence of mischief.
The heavy kind.
She hurried upstairs.
"Elsa?"
No answer.
She pushed open the door.
The window was open.
Curtains fluttering.
A wooden chair lay tipped on its side.
And Elsa stood in the middle of the room—
Breathing hard.
Her cap on the floor.
Two small black horns fully visible.
Not large.
But undeniable.
Across from her—
A boy from the neighboring house stared in frozen horror.
He had climbed in through the window, curious.
Now he trembled.
Elsa looked confused more than angry.
The air in the room was warm.
Too warm.
Mrs. Harlan's eyes widened.
For one long second—
No one moved.
Then Elsa stepped forward.
The boy stumbled backward and fell.
His head hit the wall.
He began to cry.
Loudly.
Fearfully.
The kind of cry that spreads.
Mrs. Harlan reacted on instinct.
She rushed forward, grabbed Elsa, pulled her close, and placed the cap
back on her head in one swift motion.
"It's alright!" she called toward the hallway.
"He tripped!"
Footsteps approached.
Questions followed.
Edward returned that evening to a very quiet house.
Mrs. Harlan sat him down.
She did not accuse.
She did not threaten.
She simply said:
"She's not… normal, is she?"
Edward felt his pulse in his throat.
He could lie.
He had become good at that.
Instead, he lowered his gaze.
"No."
Mrs. Harlan studied him for a long moment.
Then looked toward the small room where Elsa slept.
"She's still a child."
Edward's fingers curled.
"Yes."
Mrs. Harlan sighed softly.
"Then raise her well."
That was all.
No report.
No panic.
But Edward understood.
They would need to move again.
---
The Return of Jack
That same week, the kingdom celebrated the promotion of a rising knight.
Jack.
Older by two years.
Sharper.
Naturally gifted.
He stood in polished armor beneath banners of the royal crest.
The crowd cheered.
He did not smile much.
Not like he used to in the village.
His gaze remained steady.
Measured.
He had left before the beast horde.
He had not seen the village burn.
But he had heard.
And somewhere beneath the applause, he remembered two names:
Edward.
Elsa.
He had searched for Edward once.
Years ago.
Found nothing.
He assumed the worst.
Now, standing beneath the king's banner, he told himself something
simple:
Power prevents tragedy.
If he had been stronger then—
Perhaps things would have been different.
He chose to believe that.
It was easier.
---
A Dangerous Promotion
Back in town, Edward's steady work had not gone unnoticed.
"You've been avoiding higher-tier requests," the guild officer said,
flipping through documents. "But your survival rate is impressive."
Edward remained silent.
"There's a cave-clearing operation. Not goblins this time. Something
larger."
Edward's jaw tightened.
"How far?"
"Three days east."
Too far.
Too long away from Elsa.
He hesitated.
The guild officer leaned back.
"You want to stay small forever?"
Edward didn't answer.
He thought of rent.
Food.
Future.
He thought of Elsa growing.
Of questions coming.
He bowed.
"I'll take it."
---
That night, as he packed his gear, Elsa sat on the floor watching him.
Her cap slightly crooked.
Her brown eyes studying him carefully.
"You go?" she asked.
Her speech was still uneven.
He paused.
"Yes."
She frowned.
The air warmed slightly.
He noticed.
He knelt down.
"I'll come back."
She didn't look convinced.
He placed his hand gently on her head.
"If you don't cry when you want to…"
She stared at him.
He smiled faintly.
"I'll play with you all day."
Her lips trembled.
She swallowed it.
Didn't cry.
Edward's chest tightened.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
Warm.
Too warm.
"I'll hurry."
---
As he left at dawn—
Elsa stood by the window.
Watching.
Her reflection in the glass flickered for a moment.
Brown eyes shifting briefly—
To gold.
Far above the distant mountains—
Clouds shifted unnaturally.
Something ancient stirred.
Not yet intervening.
Just aware.