They met with a family at the inn. The children were coughing with colds, and the parents were tired, trying to get their children to nap. -- Anon Guest
Hellkin deal with the animosity they face in several ways. The most eloquent way of putting it was oft repeated between the elder and the younger ones.
"There's two ways to go when the world hates you for being alive. You either be worse than what they say you are, or try yourself to a whisper in proving them wrong."
Some Hellkin fought to balance those two choices. Comfort named herself from what she prized, just like many, and Shield had done the same. They were doing what they could, as many of their kind did. In this particular inn, where they were temporarily welcome, they were also guarding some foundlings on a journey from one place to another. Another family entered from the storm, each parent carrying two wailing children.
They were Humans, and they took one look at Shield, Comfort, and the little Hellkin at their heels, and seriously considered returning to the storm. Then the burly halfbred tending the bar drawled, "All weapons are checked on entry, and there's null-magic wards on every portal."
Most of them were decorative, but the appearance was enough.
Comfort handed Shield one of the little Hellkin in her care. "I have herbs," she offered. "They can help." Slowly and carefully, she removed them from her pack and laid them out on a neutral table between both parties.
One of the little Hellkin started crying because one of the Human children were crying. They were wont to hide under the furniture from "the soldiers". They were eventually quieted by warm bread and mulled cider, and Shield's tail to hold.
It was the sight of Comfort fretting over her charges and what she could do for the Humans that decided the newcomers.
The Goodwife of the family surrendered the tiniest child into Comfort's arms. "Here. Sing if you can. I need to give the rest some soup."
Comfort did not sing. She purred. A soft and soothing rumble. Deep and cyclic with her breathing. A sound that filled the room and even put the panicking Hellkin children at ease.
It even put a smile on the face of the half-Orc running the place.
And it sent the child in her arms into a peaceful slumber.
"The fever's broken," Comfort reported, voice made odd with her purr. "They'll be sleepy and listless for a week, but all will be well." She began handing the child back without any sign of threat or concern.
"Thank the gods," sighed the Goodwife, easing her baby into a cot by the inn's fireside. Next to all the other sleeping children. Human and Hellkin alike. "Oh. Uh. Sorry. I didn't mean..."
"I know," soothed Comfort, careful with her smile. "Hallowed things only hurt my kind when the intent is there to reject us."
The father of the four finished tidying a sleeping daughter's hair. "You're some of the good ones, I'll grant you that."
"Maybe allow others to be the good ones henceforth," said Shield. "We only look evil, after all."
At least he had the decency to be embarrassed about his faint appraisal.
[Photo by Julia Kicova on Unsplash]
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