He paused, his nose tickled by the scent of hay and grass which drifted from the field below.
No sooner had his eyes frozen upon a singular building which had sat hidden at the base of the hill, a thatched roof up top. Acres of grass stretched outwards, upon which several odd quadrupedal creatures idled from behind a fence, as though to keep them contained. Three long sheds stood apart from one another on the right, and behind a low wall, a group of four-legged creatures whose white coats adorned with black splotches appeared to be quietly dozing. A small, shining river wound through the center of it all, pouring from the hill and into a vast lake beyond, tended by a waterwheel at the side of a lone, much smaller hut built of wood, from whence a flock of poofy white, feathered creatures meandered about, occasional drinking from the stream.
But no, these creatures... he'd known what they were called, he'd heard tales of them. The largest ones wandering the field were 'horses,' whilst the ones whose white fur was splotched with black were 'cows,' and the poofy bush-like creatures who clucked incoherently to themselves, were 'hens.'
Which meant the sight here before him was nothing other than a farm, inhabited by farmers who tended to their crop from which they made a living by selling.
The wind rustled through the grass, giving life to a thousand insects. Kalil's brows pinched briefly as he wondered how such a lovely meadow could exist in the middle of nowhere. He could even glimpse light filtering out from the few open windows of the house--indicative of the people who dwelled there.
A small lantern which dangled gently from a wooden post off to the side of the path and near the house's entrance, enticed him to such an extent the forest youth already found himself walking down the hill. Nearing the bottom, the name of the settlement before him could be read etched in proud, bold letters--ones he could surprisingly read.
BLUEFIELD
"Blue...field…?" he panted, dumbfoundedly staring at the letters before lifting his head to observe the expanse of land a second time. "It says... 'Bluefield,' but the field isn't blue..."
"'Cause it ain't literal, silly."
A young, cheerful-yet-mature voice answered out from behind him--eliciting a surprised gasp from Kalil, who spun on his heels to freeze at the source which greeted him.
The scrutinizing gaze of a young man--appearing to be a few years his senior--met his own, a mess of blonde hair sticking out from the straw hat atop his head, bared chest and lean muscled arms left exposed by the plain overalls he wore--the only thing he seemed to be wearing.
A human… and he could understand him!
Kalil blinked, his mouth opening to respond, only for no sound to come.
All at once, the entire world seemed to spin--the wave of dizziness which assaulted him forcing him to his hands as his legs crumbled beneath him--a hushed but panicked shout gracing his ears as the young man appeared to call for someone--a flood of urgent voices following thereafter.
He felt himself be lifted up from the ground by a pair of strong arms--the night breeze whisked away as a stale, but gentle warmth took its place. A comforting warmth, his tired body at last attaining the respite it so desperately desired as it sunk into something soft and fluffy--all but dispelling his nausea.
Instead of allowing himself to plummet into slumber, Kalil opted to force his eyes open--all but silencing the quiet voices and the movement of their owners as he stirred--his head turning to observe four individuals who stood gathered by his bedside; a boy, a man, a woman, and the young man he'd seen outside returning his silent gaze--the tense tranquility broken as the youngest spoke.
"Pa, he's still awake!"
"Hush, Jody. You'll scare him if you keep yelling."
The woman knelt by the bed and rested a warm hand upon his shoulder, a touch which brought a soothing comfort to him. "Oh, you're awake... Do you feel alright?"
"I-I'm fine." The blue-haired youth breathed, forcing himself to nod--still woozy as he sat up to bow his head. "I-I'm sorry for the trouble... I've been wandering for so long, my exhaustion finally caught up..." He turned his eyes away, as though ashamed.
"Nothing to apologize for, dear boy." She comforted, patting his shoulder. "When was the last time you ate, or drank anything?"
"Erm, well..." Kalil trailed off, glancing to the satchel now laid off to the side with his empty waterskin--a growling stomach answering before his hoarse voice could--causing the woman to frown and then sigh as she stood up.
"I'll get you something." She said as she hurried from the room, leaving him with the three males.
He exhaled, allowing his head to drop--only to freeze upon noticing the scabbard holding his blade and his boots were no longer adorning his body--though a quick doubletake revealed them to have been placed at the floor by the bed along with his cloak.
"So, a traveler then?" The oldest man walked forward after a moment, clearly taking in his features, though a warm smile grew across his face. "Welcome to Bluefield farm, then. My name's Flint. Runt there is Jody, youngest of our boys." He motioned a hand to the boy who stood with agape eyes, then gestured to the young man with the straw-hat who had admonished him outside, who was still smiling yet. "Farmboy here is Derek, our eldest. And the wonderful woman you just met is my wife, Judy."
"O-Oh right..." He nodded, realizing introductions were underway. "I'm Kalil."
Flint nodded, crossing his arms. "Well Kalil, we're happy to let you stay for the night. Never tire of providing a roof for travelers to rest under. Where're you headed?"
Kalil paused at the question, his throat seizing up.
...Where was he headed…? Civilization, sure… if he could get to a town of sorts, maybe he'd be able to figure out where any demons were… and then he could find Kayda, if she was still...
"O-Oh, um, you... wouldn't happen to know where the nearest town is, would you...?" Kalil asked, careful to keep his voice even as he forced a hesitant smile. "I'm actually… lost."
"Lost, huh?" The farmer seemed to ponder this for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he chewed at his bottom lip. "That's no biggie… let's see..." he turned his eyes to the elder of his sons, Derek, who gazed back with a stern expression.
"Pa, the closest town is Rumswick, ain't it?"
"It is..." Flint nodded, returning his attention to the blue-haired boy. "Well, good timing then. We have some goods worth delivering there... Derek can take you to that rathole of a town at first light and then you should be able to find a way around. That good with you?"
"Y-Yes! That's perfect!" Kalil exclaimed, his eyes brightening, "I-If it's no burden, of course..."
"Not at all. You're more than welcome to stay here as long as you need. Guests are rare around these parts." Flint waved with a smile, turning to face the doorway of the room and gesturing to his two sons. "You look like you could use a bit of rest though. We'll leave you for a while, 'least till my wife's done baking."
He nodded in return, observing the two boys walk out--then glancing up as their father craned his neck and lifted a finger to point to something. His eyes followed to a basin of wood filled with water sitting by the open window of the room, a cloth draped over its rim--though he returned his gaze to Flint as he spoke.
"By the way... the wife went ahead and prepared a bath for ya… so feel free to take one." The farmer's voice was low, a kind expression gracing his worn features. "Nothing beats a nice soak after a long road, yeah? Take as long as you need."
"R-Right--and thank you!" Kalil beamed, inclining his head respectfully.
A sigh blew from the youth’s lips as the door closed, leaving him to his own devices. Slowly, he rose from the comfort of the bed, the floor cold beneath his feet. Though he felt a twinge of hesitation as he studied the washbasin, he knew he couldn't turn down the hospitality these kind people had offered him--especially when he needed it.
Undoing the belt, he stripped free of his verdant tunic and allowed it to pile at the floor, trousers joining the heap moments later. Stepping free, he quickly undid his loincloth, before stepping over the rim of the basin and allowing himself to sink into the water it carried.
Kalil gasped involuntarily as it enveloped him--pure, crisp, and blissful. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the sensations it offered, relaxing, feeling the water soothe his weariness. For a moment, it felt as if he could forget everything which had led him to this point--the attack on his village, the loss of the forest, Kayda’s sacrifice--it had only been a day since, but it felt like an eternity ago.
An idyllic life under the forest's protection had ended in a single night, just like that. If it could end so quickly, then how long would this moment of serenity last…?
Opening his eyes, he studied the reflection in the water--the forlorn gaze of a blue-haired boy returning his scrutiny. He dipped his hands into the liquid, raising them to his face as he inhaled--
And froze, breath caught in his throat--hands halted inches before his face.
Scales.
A patch of scales--they looked like scales--had emerged from the skin on his hands--staining them a pale green.
He could not be certain as he brought them away from his face--dipping them back under the water's surface--only to find the discoloration persisted as he lifted them free. If anything, it looked as though they had spread, color enriching further, snaking up to his fingers and around to the backs of his hands.
The youth blinked, unable to tell if his eyes were simply playing tricks on him--if his exhaustion and hunger had been so great, he was now observing a false reality.
With a shaky breath, Kalil slowly trailed a finger along the verdant discoloration on his palm--a chill running down his spine as he did not feel the smoothness of skin--but a coarseness that could only belong to the scales overtaking his skin--now swallowing his fingers and crawling up his forearms.
His nails had discolored--sharpening and extending outwards--clawed tips tinged a faint lavender. The bones of his fingers snapped painlessly as they lengthened alongside the growing talons--splaying outwards as they gripped the edges of the basin, flexing against his will. A building pressure at the back of his forearms warranted an observation of its own--a scythe-like protrusion formed of leaves erupting free, ending at his elbows, from which the scales continued their onslaught.