Welcome back.
As all thought this was the average sad story of betrayal and fear, this writer has a different plan. As it was once said, "No love story has not been written." This writer's plan is to dispute that and make this not just an untold story—but a story of the impossible.
As years passed, Ash became the new village head—basically against his will. He didn't want to refuse and seem ungrateful or unhappy in the early years. His life was still always at stake, and for a while, he felt like the smallest dispute could lead to his execution. So, he did whatever was asked of him and lived with them.
He lived, ate, laughed, and aged with the narrow-minded people who killed his only family. In his head, he felt the most responsible for their deaths. But as time moved on, so did he.
In his early twenties, he found love. After believing for the longest time that he didn't deserve it, he finally found someone he could love and live with. He became determined to end the narrow-mindedness that led to his family's death—while she helped to push the community forward.
Nevertheless, he couldn't truly move on. The thought of his mother's and brothers' burnt bodies haunted his dreams and was carved into his soul. At first, he saw them everywhere. Over time, the visions faded, but they never completely disappeared.
After his brother's death, things remained grim. Famine, disease, and death were constant. But with no one else to blame, the townsfolk shifted the blame onto their current leader. That was when Ash was elected. They thought, "Who better to lead us than the man who chose us over everything else?"
Ash's wife, Aubrey, was one of the new townsfolk who had moved in. She had no prior knowledge of the town's dark history. To her, Ash was just a secluded, brooding man who seemed to carry a lot on his mind.
Their love spanned from enemies to detest, to forced friendship, and finally—deep romance.
Aubrey had her own baggage. She was running from a forced marriage and wanted a fresh start somewhere quiet. She ended up in a town with little publicity and a high disease rate—a place no one really talked about. She was a nurse in her own right.
This writer chooses now to take things back—to the beginning of their relationship.
A few years after Evan's "death," Ash was now Chief Counsel. He mostly kept to himself. Around that time, a group of people moved into town. They were supposed to be crop cultivators, inventors, and medical practitioners—people meant to help elevate the town's circumstances. And it worked. A few months after their arrival, the food shortage was reduced, and the town was nearly making ends meet.
But Aubrey was different. She seemed to truly enjoy what she was doing and wanted to do more. She and Ash often clashed when it came to public health matters. Ash believed in the principle of "not breaking what wasn't broken," while Aubrey brought innovative—if sometimes risky—ideas.
They often had to speak alone, as the heads of society couldn't be seen opposing each other in public.
Slowly, disagreement turned to bickering, then teasing, then infatuation… and finally, love. They both wanted each other, but neither wanted to admit it. Neither believed they were worthy of love.
From Ash's perspective—he never knew his father, watched his mother get executed, and had to personally kill his brother to survive. In his mind, he was destined to die alone and didn't deserve love.
From Aubrey's perspective—she was an only child. Her father was a broken man. From abuse to feeling useless, to craving love but never receiving it. She learned from her mother that a woman must never show weakness. She was okay being alone forever. But then her father decided to marry her off to a proud warrior. She didn't want to be just another conquest—so she ran. That's how she arrived here.
Now both of them—two broken people who had written off love—were slowly beginning to fall for each other. They started with slow walks, words of affirmation, and mutual reassurance. Like I always say: the best way to nurture a relationship is to be fully in it.
From friends, to lovers, to partners for life.
But it took time. There were breakups, complications, jealousy, and distrust. Yet no matter what, they always knew: they were each other's forever.
The hardest part was confiding in each other—especially Ash telling her the truth about his family. Aubrey listened, understood, and accepted that it would never fully leave him. But she accepted it anyway, knowing the baggage it came with.
Eventually, they were really shaping up. They became the perfect couple—at least, their version of perfect. They still led the town and chose not to move away. Ash chose it as his penance—to never leave, to stay and ensure nothing like that ever happened again. Aubrey understood this and made this place their home.
They were happy.
They had kids—four of them. Two boys and two girls. Ethan, the first; Irene, the second (named after Ash's mother); then Shayla, and finally Evan—named after Ash's brother.
Not to ease his guilt, but because Ash felt his life wouldn't have been his without them.
They were a real family—trying to move on.
Ash and Aubrey never told their children what happened to his mother or his brother. But Ash often wondered: would anything strange manifest in his kids?
He prayed they wouldn't notice.
Deep down, he still believed something was off about him—something different, something wrong. But without any obvious signs, what could he really say? There were no powers, no unexplainable events—just fragments. Pieces that didn't fit.
Still, the thought refused to leave him.
Even in his happiest moments, he couldn't fully relax. Something in him was always on edge, always watching. The clues were subtle but undeniable: strength beyond what was normal, heightened senses, a body that never broke, never fell ill. Strange, yes—but not as strange as the truth he couldn't shake: his mother had never carried him.
That alone made everything else feel like camouflage.
He figured himself to be a hybrid of sorts. Human, yes—but something else too. Not enough to make headlines, but enough to make him feel like a shadow in his own skin.
Only Irene, his firstborn, seemed to reflect any of it—just a touch. Her bones didn't break easily. Her skin didn't bruise like it should have. She was resilient. More than any child her age should be.
He and Aubrey had seen it. Acknowledged it. But they kept it quiet. Why weigh the kids down with secrets they weren't ready for? Why expose them to the unknown when the unknown hadn't yet called for them?
As far as they were concerned, it was all handled.
For now.
A few years passed, and as the kids stepped into their teenage years, the changes began. But this time, it wasn't just the usual stuff—what we feared most had finally arrived. These changes were far more complex than just enhanced strength and durability.
It ranged from scaly skin appearing at night to slit-like eyes glowing in the dark, to superhuman strength and even the ability to alter body temperature and physical form.
Aubrey and Ash were completely stunned. They had no idea how to handle it. So, they decided it was time to have the tough conversations. They told the kids who their mother really was—but he still couldn't bring himself to tell them about her death, or about his brother. So the conversation was left open-ended, full of gaps and half-truths.
Even after all these years, the guilt still haunted him. Nothing anyone said could take that weight off his chest. But silence wasn't an option—not when they were teenagers with powers living in a town where people had once been burned at the stake for far less. He knew that, even as the town's chief, everything could shift in the blink of an eye.
So he made the decision: the kids would have to hide their abilities from everyone.
Everyone listened—except Irene and Shayla. They wanted to use their powers, to feel powerful, to be free.
But what can I say? Teenagers will be teenagers.