Ruelle opened the big, creaking barn door and let the dark-skinned boy and his father drag the akajsi girl inside. At the end of the barn was the storehouse.

From time to time, Samson's family, despite the wife's refusals, allowed travelers to use it as a place to rest. It was known that the nights in those lands were always full of trouble, and sometimes some generous traveler would give them a few coins for the stay.

The pointy-eared girl trembled, gasped, and fell silent, tightly clenching her teeth. She was pale and in a cold sweat. That fierce girl who had fought and even killed for her survival was now in a pitiful state.

Samsom laid the girl down on a pile of hay that travelers sometimes used to rest.

"Here's a place for you to rest, little one," said that man serenely, leaving the akajsi girl lying down.

"What happened to her?" asked Ruelle in astonishment at the boy who accompanied her.

"I-I don't know!" exclaimed the boy concerned.

"What? How you don't know?" asked the farmer's son.

"We were riding, and she began to get that way. She didn't want me to worry about her, but I knew something was happening."

"Hm, let me see her," that man exclaimed serenely.

The farmer looked the girl over, searching for some answer. Then, he opened her eyes; her look seemed unfocused. The girl tried to release the man's hand from her, but she barely had the strength to do so. Then, finally, the man opened the Akajsi's mouth, and after sniffing, he knew what was going on when he felt her breath.

"Did she eat some meat?" asked the man.

The marked boy looked at him in confusion for a few moments, then remembered what she had mentioned on the trip.

"I-I guess? She said she found some meat that looked like hanging from a rope."

"A rope?" asked Ruelle. He soon peeked out of the stable room and pointed to some meat drying, "Something like that?" he asked.

"I-I don't know, I didn't see what it was," hesitantly denied that boy, "But she found it in a stable attic."

"Oh, boy..." exclaimed that man quietly, sitting on his knees, "elves can't eat meat. It's like poison to their kind."

The boy's eyes opened wide.

"Is she poisoned?" he asked, observing his convalescent companion.

The girl trembled and tried to rejoin; she braced herself with both hands on the ground and, seized with solid nausea, vomited upon the earthen floor there.

Samson grabbed the girl's long hair so it would not be stained while she turned her look with discomfort. They all did, for there is no comfortable way to watch someone do that.

"I'll bring water from the well," Samson said as he rose from the spot, "Ruelle, bring a drinking jug inside the house. The girl has to purge what she ate, and she will need a lot of water."

The boy hesitated, "But Mom..."

The tall boy shrank in on himself a little. Even though he was about the same size as his father, the big-eared boy recognized that his mother was scarier than his father.

"I'll talk to her. You just do it, please," the man said exaltedly as he hurried out of that place. Behind him, out came his son.

The marked boy approached his companion, and after loosening the knot of his cloak, he wrapped it around the girl.

She was still trembling, writhing at times, and then loose again. Then, feeling the warmth of his cloak, she tucked in, shivering.

"I don't feel..." the girl stammered the words. "I. hurt..."

"Shh, don't worry, they'll help us," the marked boy said, smiling as he tucked his friend in.

He put his hand on her forehead. It burned like hell.

The boy tried to comfort her, "It'll be all right, you'll see..."

Samson was collecting water from the well with a bucket he was slowly hauling up with a rope outside the barn.

Soon he heard the footsteps of hell coming fast towards him.

Erna was heard, and she was furious, "Samson, you big fucking fool!"

The man sighed and merely continued his work.

"Have you lost your mind?" she asked, approaching her husband. "Will you let that boy and the elf stay?"

"It will only be one night," Samson explained.

"Oh, 'One night?" the woman pointed out, "Ruelle said the girl is poisoned, that she ate meat. Is that true?"

The man kept his silence as he prepared to re-enter the barn. But then, he saw his son return to the barn and called out to him, "Ruelle, take this too."

"No, you won't," ordered the woman with firm brown eyes. A look that made her son freeze.

After a silence, Samson looked his wife firmly in the eyes. It was a duel, one that Erna looked like she would win.

The man sighed and spoke with serenity and compassion, "Erna, please, they are only children..."

The woman turned her look; she could not see her husband when he used that pleading voice.

His wife turned her back to him and crossed her arm. Then Samson handed the bucket to his son.

"Erna, please. They must not be older than Ruelle," Samson begged. "They must be about the same age as..."

"Don't you dare use her name right now," Erna exclaimed gritted teeth.

The woman's brown eyes and the look of annoyance on her face denoted that this wasn't to be discussed.

"Erna, please, the girl may die..."

The woman sighed and then said, "Do what you want."

She backed away, annoyed and beside herself.

"I've got water!" the farmer's son shouted as he entered the room. The boy saw how the dark-complexioned boy stood firmly by his companion's side and had tucked him in with the cloak he wore.

He placed the drinking cup into the wooden bucket and poured it up to the top of the water before extending it to the boy.

The boy thanked with a nod and approached his companion.

"I have water for you," he said as he grabbed his companion by the back of the neck to help her lift her head.

She began to drink before she retched again.

"C-Careful, easy, easy," the boy exclaimed, pouring his companion the water so she wouldn't choke.

Ruelle saw the boys; as expected, he also noticed several details that he could not before. First, because the dark-skinned boy wasn't wearing the cloak, he saw the two bleeding wounds on the boy's arms.

The blood was dry and stained the boy's clothes, but he also saw something that made him open his eyes.

The boy had a mark on his hand.

"You," the boy incredulously, "are a m-marked one."

Then, the boy's hazel eyes widened with fear, and he slowly turned to face him.

The awkward moment, coupled with that tormenting silence, made him not know how to act. Neither of both knew what to do at that moment.

"P-Please..." pleaded the scarred boy, "she's not well, burning up, and in pain. Please help me..."

Although that blonde-haired teen was twice the size of the dark-skinned boy, he was shaking like a leaf. He could see a huge fear on his face

"P-Please," he begged again, "I'll do anything but help her, please..."

"Ruelle, go home," the boy's father called outside.

The tall, stout boy rushed to the door.

"No, wait!" shouted the scarred boy.

Ruelle ran out of the depot, and as he ran through the barn, he nearly collided with his father.

"Boy!" yelled Samson as he stopped his son in his tracks. Holding his son by both arms, he noticed he was trembling in fright, "My son, what's wrong?"

The boy's lower lip trembled. Then, after explaining the situation, he turned to the storeroom door, where the dark-skinned boy was watching him expectantly and fearfully.

"Ruelle?" caught his son's attention, that huge farmer.

"The boy..." Ruelle began, "The boy is wounded; he has cuts on his arms,"

Then, the boy drew in an agitated breath, watching his father,

"H-He stopped bleeding, but maybe..."

"I'll talk to your mother. I'll ask her for her medicinal plants," the boy explained, trying to calm his son, "The girl, how is she?"

"He said she's burning up. She must have a high fever," Ruelle explained.

"Go get a cloth inside the house. I'll take care of the rest," the man said as he hurried out of the barn.

Ruelle turned to the boy. As their gazes met, Ruelle nodded as if he was hiding a secret.

At that moment, the boy realized that not everyone was the same.