I had learned later that those so-called “beastkin”—cats, foxes, rabbits… and maybe lizards—were known for their fertility. They bred like vermin, and many of them ended up abandoned.

The ones Abby took care of were those very “discarded” children.

◇◆

“Climb one at a time.”

Abby went up the rope ladder first. Each pull made it creak and groan in protest. The ladder was clearly worn thin; if it wasn’t replaced soon, someone was bound to fall.

My stomach churned, bile rising until I almost vomited.

I ended up last. At the top, the dwarf girl pulled me up with ease. She was stronger than she looked.

“You’re light, Di.”

She giggled. Her face was smudged and filthy, soot clinging to her skin.

Every child scratched themselves constantly—a mix of filth, lice, and skin diseases. Living in the sewers, it wasn’t surprising; some afflictions might even be contagious.

I stood in silence. A chilly breeze swept away some of the stench as the townscape unfolded before me. Stone buildings, neat and aligned, rose like something out of medieval Europe.

“Let’s move. Di, I get how you feel, but don’t stare too much.”

I obeyed Abby, averting my eyes.

“You’re obedient, huh? Good. People like that live longer. I don’t dislike it.”

We followed her down cobblestone streets. Despite being well-planned, the town was a maze—more twisted than the sewers. Alone, I’d never find my way back. I clung to the dwarf girl’s hand, determined not to lose sight of Abby.

“It’s fine, Di. You’ve got your big sister here. Don’t worry!”

“I’m counting on you.”

Dwarf-girl, undoubtedly the kindest of them all, was the only one I could rely on.

Eventually, we left the stone houses behind and reached a row of ramshackle wooden huts.

Slums.

Abby exhaled.

“Everyone’s here. Move along.”

She should’ve delegated some responsibility. Oni-girl and Cat-girl were older and steadier; if they had brought up the rear, keeping the group in line would’ve been much easier.

This was a dangerous crowd.

So far, all the responsibility fell on Abby. She looked like a leader, but beneath it, she wasn’t much different from the ragged urchins she led—just another street kid who had clawed her way to the top.

While lost in thought, Cat-girl pressed her face to my neck and sniffed.

“You smell like incense. Did you run away from a church?”

It was probably just that they reeked so badly, but I didn’t say that.

“Not really.”

“What’s with the airs? You’re just another throwaway like us.”

She snorted and returned to Oni-girl’s side.

Then don’t bother me in the first place.

I didn’t reply, just followed Abby.

At one point, we passed a street lined with food stalls, the air thick with enticing smells, but Abby never paused.

We kept moving until we reached an open square.

The ground was sandy, dotted with tufts of grass.

A sizable crowd had gathered, maybe a hundred people, standing in neat, organized lines. At the head of each line were women in pale-blue habits, stirring steaming cauldrons.

Abby muttered, annoyance clear in her voice.

“Sisters of Asclepia. Boring lot, but they’re our meal ticket. Don’t start trouble.”

A soup kitchen, then.

We joined the queue and waited. When it was our turn, they handed us bowls of porridge made from unfamiliar grains.

It tasted vile. Even the half-hearted meals I’d cooked as a kid felt like feasts in comparison. The children scowled, forcing it down.

Disgusting as it was, the porridge was supposedly highly nutritious.

After everyone had finished choking it down, Abby spoke.

“Alright. Now we’re going to Granny Ada’s.”

I had no idea who that was. Even searching my—maybe borrowed memories—the name didn’t ring a bell.

“Who’s Granny Ada? Since you call her ‘Granny,’ she’s old, right? What kind of person is she?”

“Granny Ada’s just Granny Ada. She looks like a pile of trash,” said Dwarf-girl.

Her filthy mouth, so at odds with her cute appearance, made me shrug.

“I see.”

I took Dwarf-girl’s hand and followed Abby through more stalls and then into dark, desolate alleys I’d normally have hesitated to enter.

Drunkards, maybe corpses, lay sprawled along the path. Whether they were asleep or dead, I couldn’t tell.

Among them sat an old woman in a tattered, oversized robe, slumped against the wall.

“Granny Ada, wake up. It’s Abigail. Abby.”

No reply.

Oni-girl, impatient, kicked her in the shin.

“Wake up, hag! You’ve got a customer!”

“Augh!”

The old woman groaned, raising a face pitted and scarred like eroded stone.

“Damn… if it isn’t Ashita. Still rude as ever. Why don’t you just die already?”

“What was that, you rotten hag!?”

Their bickering grated. Abby shoved Oni-girl aside and stepped forward.

“Granny Ada. There’s someone I want you to look at. I’ll pay. Just do it.”

“Hmph.”

She shot Oni-girl a last glance, then glared at Abby.

“1,000 sheep. Not a coin less.”

“Fine.”

Abby pulled a copper coin from her sleeve and handed it over.

“Well, well. Stingy Abby pays without haggling? This newcomer must be something special.”

Abby clicked her tongue and jerked her chin at me.

Then, Oni-girl shoved me forward.

So, it was me.

Granny Ada’s gaze swept over me, dissecting me without a word. I turned away instinctively, but—

“Boy, look at me. Don’t run.”

Reluctantly, I met her eyes.

She was filthy, reeking, with disease plain on her scarred face. Every instinct screamed at me to get away.

Still staring at me, she spoke to Abby.

“10,000 sheep.”

Abby glanced at me, then nodded, pulling out a silver coin this time.

Silence stretched. Granny Ada’s lips curled into something like amusement as she studied me.

The tension was unbearable. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Old woman, are you sick? Looks like you were, but it’s healing. Maybe you should get checked.”

Unexpectedly, my words only made her grin widen.

“Then why don’t you check me?”

“Me…? Get a proper doctor.”

“That ‘proper doctor’ is you.”

The shift in the air was immediate. Every child, even Abby, stiffened.

“Go on, boy.”

Her eerie stare pinned me.

“You had a serious illness. The kind that should have killed you. But it’s already healed… remarkably so. The pockmarks… they’re all over your body, aren’t they? Still any itching, pus, bleeding?”

“No more.”

“Then you need no treatment. But your right eye’s gone. Otherwise, keep clean, eat properly. I see death on you, but… you’ll last a little longer.”

“How long? How many years do I have?”

“At best, a year.”

The words landed heavily.

What was that?

I’d just spoken the words that popped into my head. How could I say something so reckless?

But Granny Ada only smiled.

“Priest. You’ve got talent. A rich boy, raised well. For your age, you carry virtue. You believe in God. Awkward but warm. That bitter tone is just duty speaking. Deep down, you’re merciful. Abby.”

Abby’s sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, then back to Ada.

“What?”

“Don’t be foolish. Hand this boy over to Asclepia. He’s not for the likes of you. His fate is too strong. It’ll carry him. Surely—”

At that instant, steel flashed.

Abby drew a knife and drove it into Granny Ada’s chest.

“What—”

“Shut it, hag. I marked him first. Di’s mine,” Queen Bee, Abigail, spat.

“Ghh—!”

Blood welled at Ada’s lips.

“What the hell have you—”

There was no saving her. Even I knew that.

Blood bubbled from her mouth as she kept her gaze on me.

“This too… is fate.”

My throat tightened. I couldn’t speak.

Then a hymn rang in my mind:

That which is whole is one.

That which is one divides into many.

That which is many returns to a whole,

and in wholeness, eternal unity.

The two hands of Asclepia:

One heals, one takes away.

“Ugh!”

A thunderclap of pain split my skull, dropping me to my knees.

Through blurred vision, I saw Abby’s back, knife rising and falling.

Granny Ada’s grotesque smile as she bled out.

And, unexpectedly, Oni-girl's worried face, arms catching me.