I remember when I met my little cousin for the first time. I was four, and he was just a baby.

“Aw, he’s so weird!”

That was my first reaction upon getting to hold him. Well, less ‘hold’ and more just having him lay on my lap with my hand under his head.

“Don’t say that,” my mother told me, “try saying something nice.”

“Not bad weird,” I argued, “he’s cute-weird! His eyes are funny. And look at his teeny-tiny little wings!”

My mom looked serious, but my aunt laughed. She seemed to know that her own kid was funny-looking.

“Well, all babies are weird. He has his dad’s eyes, you know.”

“Who’s his dad?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” my aunt said.

But our question didn’t get answered right then, because there was a knock at the door. My aunt went and got it, and she talked to the person at the door for a while, sounding scared. But apparently, she couldn’t stop him from coming inside. I remember how scared I was when I saw who it was.

“Hello, Grandad,” I said sheepishly.

He glanced from Auntie to Mom to me, and then at the baby cousin in my lap.

“What is that?” He looked at my aunt like she had just stabbed someone, “It better not be what I think it is.”

“That’s my son,” Auntie said, “your grandchild.”

“So it’s true, then! You have brought a cambion abomination unto this family! A hybrid, a half-person.” He was furious. “We can’t have that.”

Grandad grabbed my cousin by the arm and held him aloft. I tried in four-year-old vanity to snatch him back, only to be struck to the floor. That’s how I got my chipped horn.

“I won’t have a disgusting cambion in this house!” He shouted as his hand caught fire, and the baby cried as he began to burn, “You will not ruin our family with human-spawn!”