Reject Humanity, Return to Monke

Deep within the Forest of Avonbalt, a sizeable settlement could be seen thriving with its populace. Elves with fair skin all genders and ages moved through the peaceful village with smiles on their faces.

Inside a particular house, however, grunts of pain could be heard through the thin walls, however, elves hearing the pained grunts just moved along, paying no heed to the house.

The reason was because this house shelters the only doctor within the village, an elf with years of experience radiating off her youthful face, and it was here the miracle of birth was undergoing.

"GRRRRHHHHH!!!"

An elf woman was giving birth while holding the hand of an elf man.

To cope with the pain, the birthing mother had a piece of cloth in her mouth, tears flowing down her cheeks as she mentally cursed the person who had given her the seeds in the first place.

The father – who was wincing at his wife's glare – was also beside her, grasping the hand of his beloved. His smile strained because of the pain he was feeling from the inhuman grip his wife had.

"Push! It'll only take a while, so just push!" The doctor who was the supervisor, as well as the midwife, in the childbirth yelled as she grabbed onto a head inside the mother's vagina.

"GGNNNNNGGGGGGHHHH!!!!"

She would've cursed every living being for the pain that was being wrought upon her, but the stupid piece of cloth stuck in her mouth made it impossible to do so.

"Don't worry, honey, I'm here." The response of the mother was to glare at her husband as she gripped his hand tighter, causing him to wince.

Finally, after what felt like hours to the mother, the child was finally out of her vagina, and in her hands, tears of joy pouring down her cheeks. The both of them celebrated the birth of their daughter, but a sudden pain in her stomach gave pause to that celebration.

Quickly handing the baby off to the father, the mother then began to push again, and without the piece of cloth in her mouth, the room suddenly got assaulted with colorful language.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!! FUCK!!! GET THIS PIECE OF SHIT IN MY BELLY OUT NOW!! I DON'T CARE IF YOU STRETCH A GIANT FUCKING HOLE OPEN IN MY FUCKING CROTCH! JUST GET IT THE FUCK OUT NOW!!"

The doctor complied and once again continued the process of assisting the mother in pain in childbirth. While doing so, however, she had a grim frown etched on her face. The father too, had this frown, and while the mother was busy swearing up a storm, a sailor would undress and give her his uniform. Deep in her mind, she knew, this was a gigantic problem.

A few moments later, the second child was born, and she was another girl. The mother, exhausted from the energy spent, as well as the pain induced, plopped back on the bed while panting.

"… Shit…"

That one word, summed up the thoughts of everyone inside the room.

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They knew they had it coming. They knew that this would happen.

And frankly? They didn't give a shit.

They were their children, and they wouldn't trade them for the world. The father could still remember the incredibly colorful language the mother assaulted the council with a few days ago.

"So, where we headed now?" The mother asked, cradling a baby in her loving arms.

"Kazanpan, if what the caravan trader says is true." The father replied, also cradling a baby in his loving arms.

Currently, they were with a trade caravan heading towards the town of Kazanpan under the management of the Shaiydon Viscounty. It's a little far from the Avonbalt Forest, but hey, the farther they are from those asshole council members, the better their lives would be.

"I still don't get why elf culture discriminates against elf twins so much. They try to exile them even when they are newborns…" The father says in disgust and exasperation.

"Well, I guess that leads back to a couple of hundred years ago." The mother began, touching the nose of her daughter with hers. "During the war, you remember that nation that created that detestable limiting curse, right?"

"Ah yes, that ruined nation." The father hummed, his hand scratching his chin in thought. He suddenly perked up in realization. "Don't tell me…"

"Yes, twin elves created that curse." The mother looked downcast. The thought of their children doing such horrible things would've given her a heart attack. "It seems the stigma runs deep."

"Obviously." The father shrugged while playing with the face of his daughter. It was then the carriage ground to a halt, causing both the father and the mother to protect their daughters with their bodies from smashing against the floor.

"Ow… Hey! What's wrong!?" The father shouted out, displeased at the entire situation.

"Bandits! They're crowding the caravan!" The coach yelled back; nervousness laced in his tone. "The security detail is holding up for now, but that won't last long! They're outnumbered!"

"Motherfuc—Honey, listen, you may not like this idea, but we have no choice."

"No! I know what you're thinking about, and my answer is no! We need to find a way out of this! Together! For our daughters!" The mother shouted at the father hysterically.

It was then the sounds of metal clashing against metal, and the familiar sound of flesh being ripped cut open began to grow closer and closer. Not wasting any time, the father all but shoved the baby in his hands towards the mother, before running out of the carriage with his weapon drawn.

"No! Wait!" The mother screamed, but it was too late. The father was already outside, battling the bandits out on the road. The mother took a peek out of the curtains to get a glimpse of the horrible scene outside.

Dead bodies of both bandits and Hunters littered the road, blood pooling beneath every corpse. She felt nauseous, the scent of iron, feces, and ammonia smashing against her nose like a tidal wave.

She also saw her husband wounded and fighting against numerous bandits. It was here, she knew, he wasn't getting out of here alive.

Gritting her teeth, she looked back towards the coachman, who surprisingly stayed alive during the whole debacle.

"You, drive… now." The mother commanded the shocked coachman, but he nodded in agreement as he let the horses' gallop.

Seeing the carriage moving, the bandits outside quickly moved to put a stop to it, but a layer of earth stopped them from approaching.

From inside the carriage, the mother could be seen using her magic with her bare hands, only to plop down in exhaustion.

She wasn't a talented mage. At most, all she could do was probably shift the earth slightly with her [Earth Manipulation], but here, she broke past her limits in order to secure their escape.

She held her two daughters close to her chest, silently shedding tears for her husband's sacrifice.

"Don't worry, mommy's here…" During the whole ordeal, the babies were fast asleep. It was only until an arrow lodged itself in the back of the mother's chest did the babies wake up.

The mother coughed up blood, the blood already pooling inside her lungs. She looked through the curtains at the back, and through the gap, she could see a bandit holding a bow, and her husband's corpses at his feet.

She glared at the man. She wanted to kill him, wanted to torture him, wanted him to feel pain for ever harming her family, but the fatal wound she was given wouldn't allow that.

"Miss!" The coach yelled excitedly. "We're almost there! Just a little more and we're home free!"

"Miss…?" Hearing no response, the coachman decided to take a peek at the back.

The dying mother taking his vision wasn't what he was expecting. The babies were already crying at that time, making him curse out loud.

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"I'm sorry… Little ones…" The coachman sighed somberly as he patted the sleeping babies he placed in the basket. "This is the least I can do to repay your parents, and what type of human would I be to leave babies to their fate in the wild."

He placed the basket in front of a door, not too fancy, but not too rundown either.

"I would've loved to take you, but my job as a trader isn't one for safety." He stood up then glanced at the basket one more time. "I'll see you both next time… If I'm still alive, that is."

And with that, the coachman left in the dark of night, leaving a basket with twin babies inside of them after knocking the door to the orphanage. A note hanging on the handle of the basket that read.

Merethyl and Mariona Yelhana

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