Being sick is incredibly awful. You hate it. Hate, hate, hate, hate. It hurts for no reason, and you can barely move, and everything tastes incredibly awful, and it feels like you've been sick for months, and you're so tired but you can't sleep, and you are so bored. 

You get sicker. You can barely eat and you can't even get up to use the chamberpot yourself but you don't really notice because it's so hard to think. You're covered in heavy blankets, it feels far too warm. It hurts to breathe. When you notice yourself breathing you realize how hard it is to breathe at all and you have to think about breathing every time and it feels like you can't un-notice your breathing. Your parents start talking to each other in your room when they come to check on you, you notice them coming in and out sometimes. You've lost count of how long you've been sick. You understand bits and snatches, through the haze of the sickness.

"-Should tell her if she gets more lucid-"

"-Just the flu. She'll get better, or. Or she won't, and-"

"The others are already talking. It could-"

"-Over the hill soon."

"-stop worrying she'll turn into a demon-"

...A demon? You're turning into a demon? What? How? Demons are the monster people that have deadly powers and live in the forest and kill naughty children! You don't want to be a demon! You're crying, struggling against the blanket and muttering, "No no no no no no..." And then Momma Magda is there, holding your hand. Her hand feels as cold as snow.

"It'll be alright, dear. Can you hear me? Little Grensel, my little girl..."

"You'll need to wash your hands," you hear your father say, behind her. Then a thumping noise and a grunt of pain.

"I know that! Think before you speak for once! Our daughter is hurting. Dear. Grensel. Nod if you can hear me, okay?"

It's an effort, but you manage to nod.

"You're very sick. You might get better, or you might not. We've been praying to Lujhola every day for you. Did you hear me mention demons?"

Nodnodnodnodnod.

She doesn't speak for a while. You see her eyes, only her eyes, holding back tears.

"Okay. Let me tell you a story. Demons aren't all bad. I know some of the stories make them all bad, but- They're not all bad."

"They're not even always called demons. Sometimes, they're called miracles."

Once there was a little girl named- Let's call her Sasha. Sasha was a perfectly normal girl. Her daddy was a wickerman who grew a special grove of trees split into dozens of small trunks, just the right size to make strong wooden rods, and her momma helped with that work. They made good fences and good tool handles and good furniture for everyone in the village.

One day while Sasha was walking through the grove, she saw a boy breaking sticks off one of the trees. She shouted at him, "Hey! Stop stealing from our grove!" But the boy just ran away. Sasha went and told her daddy about the boy, and he asked her if she recognized him. She didn't, but she only saw him from far away, so it could be any of the village boys. Her daddy said it was alright. He'd keep an eye out for troublemakers.

A few days later she saw that the same tree had been cut up, and all the rods were gone. But someone kept leaving fresh animals by the family's door. Rabbits and chickens and a few racoons and foxes and even a young deer once. Nobody was missing any animals, so they must have been hunted - except the animals were all unmarked except for having crushed throats. The family knew it was a demon doing this. When trouble happens and a mysterious boy or girl is seen, it's usually a demon! But why would he bring them animals instead of just taking the wood? Why did the demon need wooden rods in the first place? The family didn't know.

The thing about demons, you see, is that they each have a special power. It's not like real magic, wizard magic, which can do anything if you know how. Each demon gets one power, and one only. They're also faster and stronger, and they don't get sick or cold or hungry, but demons can't do wizard magic. They don't make any mana, and since they live alone in the hills and forests, and nobody would trade with a demon since they're all troublemakers, if a demon wants something that their magic can't make for them they have to steal it.

Her parents had decided it was sort of like trading with them, if he left them dead animals to eat in payment and didn't take too much, or at least it wasn't worth making too much fuss about. One day Sasha saw the demon boy again, taking more rods. He was wearing raggy pants and nothing else, his hair long and wild. He looked a bit like a noble - taller and fuller, though completely filthy and definitely still a child. Sasha wanted to follow him and see what he did with the rods. She knew her parents would yell at the very idea, but Sasha was curious. What could he need wooden rods for? So she followed him hoping to find out.

Unfortunately, this was a stupid thing to do. Demons are fast and tireless, and soon Sasha was lost deep in the woods, with only the craft knife her father had given her. Soon it was dark and cold, and strange noises in the woods scared her. Sasha tried to start a fire, but she didn't know how or have a flint. She tried to build a tiny little house from branches and leaves as she got colder, almost like making a fence, but the wind kept knocking it over.

She fell asleep alone and afraid and cold. When she woke up, the boy was carrying her. She kept quiet and pretended to still be asleep, but it didn't fool him.

"Hey," he said, "That was stupid. You're stupid."

"......." Sasha said, frowning but still pretending to sleep.

The boy poked her hard in the forehead.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"You're hungry and cold. You have to go." He set her on her feet at the edge of the forest. She still had her knife, though her clothes were muddy and filthy, now.

"Wait! Why are you stealing from our grove?"

The boy looked exasperated and sighed.

"Okay, okay," Sasha corrected. "Why are you trading dead animals for rods from our grove? And what's your name, anyway? I can't just call you demon boy..."

The boy was silent for a little while, scowling. But then he said, "I'm... Liam. And I need them. It's none of your business what for exactly."

"Well, we're the village wickers. We'd hate to see you wasting good rods for no reason!"

"You know I'll get chased away now, right? Your parents will think I stole you or something. That was really stupid. You could have died. So just go. They'll help you."

Sasha frowned and started saying something else, but Liam ran away, then, vanishing deep into the woods with hardly a sound. With nothing else to do, she walked up to the house and waved to the man she saw in the field as she approached.

"Ho, who goes there?" He called out. "I don't recognize you, child."

"I'm Sasha, from Linden! I got lost."

"Linden? I know that place. This is Spasvill. Did you wander into the forest? Come on, let's get you warmed up."

The man, whose name was Hans, brought her to his house and was very kind, and introduced Sasha to his wife and his two sons. They made plans to send her home in two days, since Linden was only a few hours' walk along the paths and Hans was going that way, and even let her borrow clean clothes and shared dinner with her as long as she helped with the cooking and cleaning.

Sasha wasn't sure what to do the next day, so she wandered along Hans's fields. The fence, she noticed, was very old and almost falling apart in places. It could use some repairs, or even replacing. She sort of knew how, thanks to her father. Maybe she could ask her daddy could help fix the fence in return for their kindness? She couldn't really do it herself, she was still learning and didn't have the right tools. As she continued wandering along, she round some pieces of the fence that someone had tried to fix lately... Except they had done a very bad job. They had just stuck wooden rods into the fence willy-nilly, letting them break and stick out all over the place instead of properly weaving them.

Obviously it was Liam, the demon boy. He had tried to fix the fence, using the rods taken from her family- But why would a demon do that? It wasn't until one of the other boys mentioned how his brother Liam used to like playing ball before he got sick and went away, when she realized. Some demons are born that way, from other demons, but some become that way. Liam used to be a little boy, just like her. And he still loved his family and tried to help them, even if he wasn't very good at it.

She went home after that, and got her daddy to fix Hans's fence, and kept quiet about what she knew. It made her a bit sad, since everyone seemed to hate demons, but it wouldn't help if she spoke up. She saw Liam again a couple of times, always from a distance. She never actually spoke to him again, and something was terribly sad about that. But there was nothing she could do, since he would always run away. Sometimes he left her presents. Once, he left her a note that said 'sorry for being mean'. But she would always remember that not all demons are bad. Sometimes they do good things for people, and sometimes they're just scared.

"So my little Grendel... I know it's not fair. But turning into a demon doesn't make you evil. You'll still love us, and we'll still love you. It's just that demons can't control their powers, and that the order of the gods and the nobles don't tolerate them. If you turn into a demon, which you might not, you'll have to leave for your own safety, and our safety."

"I don't want to leave home. I don't want to- Why me?"

Your Momma hugs you, and you can't stop crying. "Shh, shh... It's okay. You're going to be okay. Demons are tough. They barely need to eat, and they don't get cold, and you can maybe still come visit if you're very careful and very sneaky. And you might just have the flu. I think you just have the flu and you'll get better. But if you don't..."

The story seemed very important, so you went over it again and again even though it was hard to think.

You don't want to be a demon. You pray to Letos, Marion, Ettic, Donner, Lujhola, to any god and all gods and no gods, please let me get better.

You have a wonderful dream. It's a shame you don't remember anything about it, because you know it was probably the best dream you've ever had. It feels like seeing the stars with your Pappa. You feel like giggling, like throwing your hands in the air and squealing in delight, warm and happy and amazed, like you just learned something huge and important and delightful.

You have to touch the ground. 

What? Where did that thought come from? You're laying in your comfy bed, all sick and tired, why would you move?

But you have to touch the ground. The heat, the excitement, is building up inside you like you're going to burst, and if you touch the ground-

Oh no. You feel weird. Are you a demon after all? Is it your demon power doing this? You screw your eyes shut and try to ignore the feeling. You don't feel sick anymore, but it's the middle of the night, so you shouldn't wake everyone up. 

You're leaning over the edge of your bed. Reaching towards the ground. With a small 'eep' you snap your hand upwards as if away from a fire. You roll over on your front and put your hands beneath yourself and try to take deep breaths.

The weird happiness keeps getting stronger and stronger, so strong it's not even really happy anymore. It's painful. You really really really have to touch the ground. It feels like you might explode if you don't.

So you do.

As soon as your hand hits the dirt floor of your house, you feel the warm/excited/happy bubbling inside you rocket down your arm and shoot into the ground. You let out a gasp, feeling suddenly cold and drained. You can still feel the energy even though it's below you, seeping out under your house and into the stone walls slightly- And then suddenly you can't, at the very same moment that the whole house seems to sag, everything shifting slightly with a loud groaning.

Aaaaah! You broke the house! In a panic, you try to open the door to your room, but it's stuck in the dirt now, as if the whole house sank into mud.

"Sasha? Sasha!" Your father shouts through the door. "Are you alright?"

"I'm... I'm not hurt. But I'm a demon now! I broke the house! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, honey. It's okay. Remember the story, you're still you."

You can hear your brother and sister and mom shouting behind the door somewhere. Your sister, only four, is crying loudly.

"What- What should I do, dad? Do I have to leave?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I- If we tried to keep you here, Baron Henfield would have none of it. I'm sorry, but you have to leave. You'll be alright in the woods as far as I know. Not... Comfortable, but demons are hardy. We-" He takes a deep breath. "We can leave you clothes and things in the woods. From what I know other demons are out there, and they - try to take care of their own, mostly." 

You know he's trying not to cry, by focusing on the practicalities. Honestly, it's helping you resist crying, too.

"Can you get through the window, Grendel?"

"I... I think so, yeah."

"Okay. You should go out to the woods through the window. We'll be fine here. I'll break down the front door later and start fixing things tomorrow. What a mess."

You feel a stab of guilt and wince again. "Sorry..."

"It's not your fault. Demons can't control their powers at first."

"Once I can control it I'll come fix things."

"I- Yeah, that'd be great, honey. I know you're strong. You can do this. It's not fair, but you can do it. Just stay away from town for a while until things settle down, please. And be careful. I love you."

"I love you, Pappa Karl, Momma Magda! And Lisa and Sammy!"

Your family choruses 'I love you's back at you. Confused and scared ones from Lisa and Sammy. You do start crying this time.

Climbing through the window is easy. You clamber up to the sill and lift yourself, and it doesn't feel any heavier than picking up an empty cup. You roll out head first into the dirt outside, still in your pajamas, and you barely feel the head-first impact, springing back up onto your feet automatically. Running barefoot through the bean field is the same, your feet don't hurt from the stones and don't feel cold at all. You run for the woods in the moonlight, climbing a tree and bawling once you're far enough away.

It's not fair. You didn't ask for this. You have to leave your family, and everyone will hate you, and you'll never have a normal life now, and you have some stupid magic power that you don't understand and it's not fair. You should be shivering in the early spring air. But you're not. You're perfectly comfortable nestled in the crook of a tree, and the hard bark pressing against your back barely bothers you at all, which only reminds you of the stupid sickness and curse and how nothing is fair again.

At some point you must have fallen sleep, drifting away dreamlessly, because when you wake up birds are singing and you can see the faint red of sunrise peaking over a nearby hill.

The pit of despair in her stomach isn't really gone in the morning.

She sulks in her tree, sniffling slightly and not especially willing to go... Do things. Except sulk and mutter about how it's not fair.

A small voice pipes beneath her. “And what are you crying about?”

She jumps and looks around.

"...Um nothing?"

A boy clambers up the tree. His hair and eyes are gold, and he glows softly. He’s also naked as a jay bird. “Come on, don’t lie.”

"Go away, demon," is not a lie.

“Neat thing about being a demon? You don’t go away just because someone says.”

"Please go away." Pause. "Unless you're one of the nice ones mom told me about."

“Ah, sure, why not?”

"It's not fair. I didn't want to turn into a demon."

“But it’s so much better!”

"Says who. I broke our house and had to run away!"

“But you get to be stronger! You’re probably just grumpy because you’re covered in”—he pokes at her pyjamas—“stuff.”

She tries kicking him, misjudges both her strength and speed, and sends them both toppling off of the branch.

She hits the ground with a thud, then sits up. "Ow? -No! I'm grumpy because I had to leave my family and people are gonna hate me now!"

The boy lands deftly beside her. “Just humans, and they suck!”

"My mamma is great. Hmph!" She crosses her arms and spins around to point away from him.

A blur of golden light, and he's in front of her. "Scaredy cat!"

Glare.

Can... She... Do a dirt thing? She tries it, stomping hard on the ground and feeling suddenly a bit colder.

A small section of forest floor rumbles and goes a bit quicksand-like, nowhere near fast enough to actually trap him.

Impossibly fast, he darts out of the way. "That the best you can do?"

"I guess so."

She sighs theatrically and looks up at the branches above.