Deep within the dense fold of Worthloth Forest, where even maps struggled to chart a path, stood a house, colossal and quiet. The trees in this part of the forest grew unnaturally tall. Their thick canopies blocked sunlight and veiled the building from wandering eyes. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. Before the house sat three sleek, modern cars. Their elegant curves were hidden beneath protective cloths. The family had long learned to guard not only their lives but also their presence.
Inside the house, voices carried through the space.
"I cannot go there, Dad," a voice snapped from within the building. "I cannot stay in the midst of those weaklings. They will get on my nerves, and I will crush them."
The voice belonged to Samantha. Despite her age, she carried a strong aura. Life inside the house, while human on the surface, bore a different weight. It was larger, quieter, and older than ordinary human life.
A man of about nine feet sat opposite his daughter. His name was Brown. He was tall, broad, and gentle.
Samantha was painting again. Her tall, dark form hunched over a canvas that already displayed unsettling realism. The room pulsed with artistry. Paintings lined the walls. They were breathtaking, lifelike images that dared the viewer to imagine more than this world could explain. A bed occupied one corner. Shelves groaned with books and brushes. Clothes were neatly hung in a rack near the window. None of them were touched by dust.
"I am telling you, my angel," Brown said. His deep voice was a soft rumble in the quiet room. "You will not regret this. Let that be a promise between us. Just look at your work, Samantha. It is too real. Even though we are not like them, your art, your gift, is astonishing. Every day I see what you create, and it still overwhelms me. You have built this wealth we stand on. You have sustained us ever since we left the Mountains. But we cannot keep hiding here in this shadowed forest. Sooner or later, we must learn to blend with humans without harming them."
Samantha sat back, still gripping her brushes. At eight feet tall, her presence filled the space. She was regal yet volatile. Brown's words stirred something inside her, but her thoughts soon darkened.
"What if I lose my temper?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "What if I kill someone at the school you want to send me to?"
"You are an angel, Samantha. I do not think you are a being that craves violence," Brown replied. He gently rubbed her shoulder. "I believe in your strength and your restraint. They might provoke you, yes, but that is where your power lies, in resisting rage. You are not going there for them. You are going there to learn, to deepen your art, your understanding of human culture. Your gift must not languish. It was meant to be seen."
"What about the homoithermic creatures with four limbs, Dad?" a voice chimed from the doorway. "They are rare now, but they still exist, and they might attack Samantha."
Two towering women stepped into the room. Both were strikingly youthful but ageless in essence. One wore an armless top and a long cloth tied around her waist. The other wore a short black gown that revealed her elegance in silence. Their skin was pale, almost luminous. Only Samantha and her father Brown shared the dark hue complexion. Their melanin was rich as soil after rainfall. Their smooth skin gleamed.
"They do not come after us unless we threaten them, Lara," Brown answered the woman in the armless top. She was his eldest daughter. "If we stay low, they will keep away."
A hush fell over the room. Then Brown turned to the other woman in the black gown. "What do you think about this, Love?"
Rina, his mate, was quiet for a long breath. When she spoke, her voice was cool and fragile.
"I do not think this is necessary, Brown. We have lived in fear of humans for so long, long before we left the Mountains. What makes you believe they will accept us now?"
Brown's hand lingered protectively on Samantha's shoulder. "Why do you think they will not?"
"Because we are coils, Brown!" Rina's voice cracked. It was not from anger but from memory. "They hate coils. They always have. Even harmless ones are killed on sight. They see us, and all they know is the fangs. No one ever asks if we intend to bite."
Her fear was thick. Brown could feel it pulsing through her voice. The horrors they had survived still clung to her heart heavily. Rina, compassionate even toward enemies, had often been the one urging them to walk away. She had often told them to let go of fights they could have won. She had always been the reason they chose peace over pride.
Brown stood and approached her slowly. He wrapped her in an embrace. His broad arms held her gently. He pressed his face into the soft coils of her hair. Her hair was dark and heavy.
"We have to protect her," he murmured. "But that does not mean hiding forever. This is about survival, real survival. Not shrinking into the woods, but learning to stand among them. We will be there for Samantha, every step of the way. And learning others' cultures is not a weakness, Rina. It is strength. Trust me, she will be safe."
Rina lifted her gaze to him. Her eyes were wide and uncertain. She looked like a child seeking reassurance.
"I swear I am sure," Brown whispered, smiling gently.
He pulled her back into his chest, holding her firmly now. Samantha and Lara crossed the room to join them. The family stood together in silence. They were bound not just by blood but by fear, hope, and a fragile but unrelenting love.
Outside, the forest shimmered in the late light. Its brilliance was untouched by human sight. The trees stood tall and strong. The leaves moved gently in the wind. The air smelled of earth and damp wood. Birds perched on branches and sang simple songs. The ground was covered with fallen leaves. Small animals moved quietly through the undergrowth. The forest was alive with ordinary sounds.