2. Dezoth
2
DEZOTH
T he market bustles with its usual chaos - merchants hawking wares, patrons haggling prices, the occasional pickpocket testing my patience. I scan the crowd from my position near the fountain, marking potential troublemakers while my guard patrol circles the perimeter.
A small impact against my legs breaks my concentration. I look down, shocked that anyone would slam into me. But then I see tiny hands steady themselves against my leather boots, and I freeze at the sight of brilliant violet eyes gazing up at me with unbridled curiosity.
Demon eyes. On a human child.
Her dark curls frame a cherubic face, and she shows not a trace of the terror most humans display in my presence. My insignia catches the sunlight, drawing her attention. Before I can react, she reaches up with pudgy fingers toward the silver badge marking my rank.
"Pretty! Is it magic?" Her voice rings clear as bells, head tilted back so far her crown nearly touches her spine to meet my gaze.
I crouch down, bringing myself closer to her level while maintaining enough distance to not appear threatening. "It marks my position as Captain of the Guard. Where is your mother, little one?"
She ignores my question, focused entirely on the gleaming metal. "Does it make sparkles like my magic?"
The casual mention of magic catches me off guard. A half-demon child, then. Rare enough to be noteworthy, especially one so young. Especially with everything that is going on. Her complete lack of fear speaks to a loving upbringing, despite what must have been difficult circumstances.
"Rose! Get away from him!" A woman's panicked voice cuts through the market noise. The child - Rose - turns toward the sound but doesn't move from her spot.
"But Mama, look! His badge is shiny like my sparkles!"
I catch movement at the edges of my vision - my guards shifting their attention to the commotion. Their hands drift toward weapons, trained to view any disruption as a potential threat. In one fluid motion, I lift Rose into my arms, positioning myself between her and my overzealous patrol.
"Stand down," I command, my voice cutting through the market noise. The guards snap to attention but remain tense, eyes fixed on the approaching woman.
Rose settles against my chest without hesitation, small fingers tracing the silver cord binding my hair. "Mama's scared again," she whispers, her violet eyes dimming. "But you're nice. You make people listen."
The woman - clearly Rose's mother - pushes through the last of the crowd. Her honey-blonde hair matches Rose's curls, though fear has blanched her face white. She stops short at the sight of her daughter perched comfortably in my arms, conflict warring across her features.
"Please," she manages, voice barely steady. "My daughter-"
"Is perfectly safe." I keep my tone neutral, noting how she positions herself for a quick escape. Her clothes are well-made but travel-worn, suggesting someone used to running. "I am Captain Dezoth of the City Guard. Your daughter was admiring my insignia."
"It makes sparkles like me!" Rose announces proudly, oblivious to the tension. She waves her hands, and tiny motes of light dance between her fingers.
Her mother flinches at the display. "Rose, don't-"
"An impressive talent," I interrupt, drawing the mother's attention back to me. Something in her stance shifts as she realizes I'm not reacting with shock or disgust to Rose's abilities. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere less public."
Rose claps her hands. "Can we have tea? Mama makes the best tea when we're not running."
The word 'running' confirms my suspicions. The mother's eyes dart toward the market exits, but she must see something in my expression that gives her pause.
"I..." She straightens her spine, chin lifting in defiance. "We should go."
I'm not even sure why, but I know I can't let that happen. Maybe it's because I know how unsafe the city is for a half-demon child. Maybe it's because something in me cracks at seeing how desperate she is. Either way, the words come out before I can even think.
"I'm afraid I can't let that happen. By order of the City Guard, you're both detained for questioning." My voice carries the weight of authority, designed to brook no argument. The woman's face drains of color, her fingers twisting in her skirts.
Rose peers up at me, still tracing patterns on my insignia. "What's detained mean?"
"It means we're going on a little walk." I shift my stance, blocking the view of my patrol from Rose's telltale eyes. The last thing we need is more attention drawn to her unique heritage. "Lieutenant, maintain market patrol. I'll handle this personally."
"Sir-" One of my guards steps forward, but I silence him with a look.
"It's a simple detention of a human woman and child. Surely you don't think I need assistance?" I let my lip curl, injecting just enough disdain into my tone. The guard backs down immediately.
"Of course not, Captain."
Rose waves at the guards as I guide her mother down a side street with my free hand. The woman's shoulders are rigid under my touch, but she doesn't pull away.
"The detention center is-" she starts.
"Not where we're going." I keep my voice low, meant for her ears alone. "Your daughter's safety is my primary concern. My private office will suffice." I don't mention that is at my house.
Some of the tension leaves her frame, though wariness still radiates from every movement. Smart woman.
"Up we go, little one." I adjust Rose in my arms as we navigate the quieter streets. She's created a small constellation of sparkles that dance around my head, giggling each time I pretend to catch one.
"You're good with her," her mother murmurs, surprise coloring her tone.
"Children are rare treasures." The words slip out before I can stop them, memories of another child - one that never drew breath - threatening to surface. I push them aside. "Especially ones with such remarkable gifts."
I lead them through winding alleyways, choosing paths that offer multiple escape routes should we encounter trouble. Rose hums softly against my chest, still completely at ease despite her mother's obvious distress. The weight of her tiny form stirs memories I'd rather keep buried.
"Your sparkles are getting better," Rose declares, creating another shower of light that dances around my head.
"Those are your sparkles, little one." I duck beneath a low-hanging sign, angling my body to shield her from the rough edges.
"No, yours! See?" She points to where her magic reflects off my insignia, creating scattered patterns across the alley walls. "They dance with mine."
Her mother's sharp intake of breath draws my attention. She's keeping pace but maintaining careful distance, her steps light and ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. Her eyes never leave her daughter, even as she tracks our surroundings with practiced vigilance.
"We're nearly there." I gesture toward a less-traveled side street. "This route ensures privacy."
"Why should we trust you?" Her voice carries steel beneath the fear.
"Because I haven't summoned the rest of the guard." I meet her gaze steadily. "And because your daughter's eyes mark her as someone who needs protection, not persecution."
Rose tugs at my hair cord, completely absorbed in her own world. "Your hair is pretty. Like night time."
"Thank you, little one." I adjust her weight as we round another corner. "Though I believe your mother's is far lovelier."
"Mama's is like sunshine!" Rose agrees enthusiastically. "And mine is both! She says that my papa said-" She cuts off abruptly as her mother makes a pained sound.
The silence that follows feels heavy with unspoken grief. I recognize that particular weight all too well.
Once we finally make it to the edge of the city, I guide them through the back entrance of my home, ensuring no prying eyes follow our arrival. The door seals shut with a whisper of protective magic, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders. Here, at least, we can speak freely.
"You're safe for now." I set Rose down gently, though she keeps hold of my sleeve. "No one followed us, and my wards will alert me to any unwanted visitors."
The woman positions herself between Rose and me, her movements fluid but purposeful. Up close, I can see the exhaustion etched into her face, the way her simple dress hangs loose on her frame. She's been running for longer than anyone should have to.
"I'm Captain Dezoth Blackwood. But you can call me Dezoth." I step back, giving her space while keeping my posture open. "And you are?"
"Ada." She lifts her chin, brown eyes sharp despite her obvious fatigue. "Ada Pierce. And you've met Rose."
Rose peeks around her mother's skirts, violet eyes bright. "Your house feels warm. Like blankets."
"That's the protection wards." I find myself smiling despite the gravity of the situation. "They keep the bad things out."
"Like the men following us?" Rose asks innocently.
Ada's fingers curl into fists. "Rose, hush."
The protective instinct that sparked in the market roars to life. "How long have you been running?"
"Why do you care?" Ada's voice could cut steel. "We've managed fine on our own."
"Mama's tired, though," Rose pipes up. "She cries when she thinks I'm sleeping."
"Rose!" Ada drops to one knee, gathering her daughter close. The motion exposes a thin scar along her collarbone, and something dark twists in my gut at the sight.
"I care because that child carries demon blood, and someone clearly wants to exploit that." I keep my voice level, though rage simmers beneath the surface. Maybe it's my personal history, but I'm wound up by the way the half-demon children are being treated throughout the city. "I'm offering sanctuary, nothing more."
Ada's eyes meet mine, searching for deception. "And what do you want in return?"
"Want?" I bark out a laugh. "I want to sleep at night knowing I didn't turn away a child in need. I want to honor the oath I took to protect this city's inhabitants." I pause, letting my next words carry the weight of truth. "I want to help, if you'll let me."