The nipa hut stood quietly on the far outskirts of the walled city, a humble refuge tucked away from the world.
Inside, warmth lingered like a soft embrace, wrapping around the small space and holding it still.
A faint glow from the hearth cast flickering shadows on the woven mats and wooden beams, while the scent of dried herbs and firewood smoke hung in the air, mingling with the earthy dampness from outside.
Through the single window, moonlight slipped in, pale and silver, tracing delicate patterns on the floor.
Rin, the young maid, stood near the bed, cradling the sleeping infant in her arms.
Her brown wings, small and delicate, fluttered faintly with each breath, as if they, too, were part of the quiet rhythm of the room.
The baby's tiny chest rose and fell, his face peaceful, unaware of the world he had just entered.
Rin held him with a careful tenderness, her fingers brushing lightly against the soft blanket that swaddled him.
"Rin," a quiet voice called from the bed.
She froze for a moment, her wings stilling, before turning to face the woman who had spoken.
"Ah-sorry, Miss Laya," she stammered, her voice soft and unsure. She stepped closer, carefully handing the infant over. "H-here he is..."
Laya smiled faintly, her golden hair damp and clinging to her cheeks, her skin pale from exhaustion.
Her arms trembled slightly as she reached for the child, but when he settled against her chest, she exhaled-a shaky, relieved breath that seemed to release all the tension from her body.
She drew him close, comforted by the weight of him, the reality of his presence.
"Rin, you don't have to call me 'Miss,'" Laya said with a soft, warm laugh that barely rose above a whisper. "We're all just maids here. There's no need for titles."
"I-I know... it's just..." Rin's voice trailed off as she lowered her eyes, her hands nervously twisting the fabric of her uniform. "It just feels strange not to..."
Laya shook her head with an affectionate smile, then turned her attention back to the baby.
She adjusted the blanket around his small body, her fingers lingering on the soft folds as she watched his steady breaths.
The room fell silent, save for the faint crackle of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves outside.
"What's his name, Miss Laya?" Rin asked softly, breaking the quiet.
"Archus," Laya whispered, her voice barely audible, as if the name itself were a fragile thing. "But... you can call him Arch."
Rin's face lit up, her eyes brightening. "Arch... That's a beautiful name."
Laya's gaze wandered to the low wooden beams above them, her expression distant, as though she were seeing something far beyond the hut.
"When I was young," she murmured, her voice soft and tinged with memory, "my family lived in a forest city. It was hidden beneath towering trees-so tall, their tops were lost to the sky. The air always smelled of moss and rain, and the light filtered through the leaves in golden streams."
Rin sat down quietly beside the bed, her hands folded in her lap, listening intently.
"Our home had this arch in the center," Laya continued. "Old and strong, carved from the heart of an ancient tree. Everything leaned on it-walls, beams, shelves. Even in the fiercest storms, when the winds howled and the rain lashed against the wood, it held steady and unyielding."
She paused, her hand brushing gently through her son's few strands of hair, her touch light as a feather.
"One day... the city was attacked. Flames consumed everything-homes, trees...lives. The fire roared like a beast, devouring all in its path. My kin got scattered, or worse. But that arch...when the fires finally faded and the smoke cleared, it was still there, standing firm amidst the ashes."
Her voice wavered slightly, the memory still raw despite the years.
She looked down at the boy in her arms, her eyes softening with a quiet tenderness.
"I woke up beneath it, huddled in its shadow. I named him Archus... so he might be like that arch-something that stands strong, even when the world around him falls apart."
Rin's hands tightened in her lap, her throat thick with emotion. "That name... it holds so much meaning, doesn't it?"Laya smiled faintly, her gaze tender. "It's more than a name. It's a hope... a prayer, really."
She leaned down and kissed the baby's brow softly, her lips lingering for a moment, full of love and quiet devotion.
"Welcome to the world, Archus," she whispered.
Rin let out a soft, light giggle, her own heart swelling.
"Welcome to the world, baby Arch."
---
From the far side of the room came a gentle rustling.
"All done," came a calm, measured voice.
A woman with dark hair tied in a neat bun rose from a small table, wiping her hands carefully on a cloth.
A pair of small, deer-like antlers peeked from her head, catching the faint light as she moved.
Her uniform bore the signs of a day's work—stains on the fabric, sleeves rolled up to her elbows—but her movements were steady and purposeful.
Before closing her wooden medical case, she glanced at the bed where Laya held Archus.
Her eyes softened briefly as she watched the infant's tiny chest rise and fall.
With a quiet step, she approached and gently adjusted the blanket around him, her fingers lingering for a moment on the soft fabric.
"He's got a strong heart—didn't cry until the very end," she murmured, almost to herself, before turning back to her case and closing it with a soft click.
She stretched her back, letting out a quiet sigh.
"I'll head back to the mansion now," she said with an even tone.
"Rin, stay with her—make sure she gets some rest. And keep an eye on the little one; he'll need it."
Laya looked up from the bed, her expression grateful but weary.
"Thank you, Lyn. I'm sorry for keeping you here longer than necessary."
"It's nothing," Lyn replied, giving a short bow, her antlers dipping slightly with the motion.
"It's what we do."
She stepped toward the door, her movements deliberate and calm.
"Miss Lyndis?" Rin called hesitantly with a small voice.
Lyndis paused mid-step, her hand resting briefly on the doorframe.
She turned her head slightly, offering Rin a reassuring nod.
"Just take care of them both. I'll handle everything else," she said simply, her voice steady but warmer than before.
Then, with a quiet click, she slipped out the door.
The door closed behind her, and a cold breeze slipped into the room, stirring the air.
Rin stood still for a moment, staring at the closed door, before turning back to Laya and Arch, who lay curled together beneath the woven blankets.
She walked over quietly and adjusted the corner of the cloth, tucking it gently around them.
Outside, the wind stirred the trees, their branches creaking softly.
Moonlight filtered through thinning clouds, casting a silver glow over the world.
Within the little hut, wrapped in warmth and silence, a new life had begun.