by Virlyce
“Really?” Grimmy asked. “That little girl’s blood magic was just on an extremely small scale. This is the kind of stuff I envisioned it being used for.”
Erin tugged on Lindyss’ ear, hiding inside a curtain of hair. “I really think your dragon friend is a bad influence,” she whispered. “From now on, you should stay as far away from him as possible.”
Lindyss rolled her eyes. “What are they doing?” she asked, crossing her legs as she leaned back. “Some kind of summoning ritual? Or is their leader so afraid of death that he’s looking to create an elixir of immortality?”
“Neither of those,” Grimmy said. “It looks like a creation ritual. They’re trying to create a really big creature filled with resentment using flesh and blood as the bonding agent. It’s a little like that dark spirit you made Vur eat or the god that the humans worshipped back home. It’s crude though, and it’s definitely not going to be humanoid in nature. Or anything natural. Maybe a giant mishmash of different animals.”
“So, I’ve been wondering,” Erin said out loud towards Grimmy. “Do those people just not care that you’re hovering over them? Isn’t a normal reaction upon seeing a dragon to panic, scream, and run?”
Grimmy grunted. “Yep, that’s the normal reaction. But it’s okay because I’m stealthy. They can’t see me.”
Erin blinked hard and rubbed her eyes. She hopped off of Lindyss’ head and flew towards the scales under the cursed elf. “You’re saying you’re invisible right now?”
“No,” Grimmy said. “I said I’m stealthy.”
Erin tilted her head before staring up at Lindyss. The fairy queen blinked an unasked question, causing Lindyss to sigh. “Just ignore him when he says stupid things like that,” the cursed elf said and shook her head. “That’s what I do.” She tapped on Grimmy’s scales and gestured towards the bloody pit. “Are you going to do anything about that?”
“Do anything?” Grimmy asked and raised his brow. “Why would I?”
“You know what they say,” Lindyss said. “An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. Stop the mishmash creature from being summoned now, and you won’t have to spend nearly as much effort to stop it later.”
Grimmy rolled his eyes up to look at Lindyss. “But it’s not my problem? I don’t live here.” He grunted and brought his front claw up to his chin and rubbed it. “Hmm. Who does live here? Was it Sera’s family? I think Prika’s cousins lived here too. They’ll take care of it.”
“It’s your duty to stop them,” Erin said. “You don’t let people get away with evil rituals; it’s called noblesse oblige. As someone born with strength, power, and the ability to do whatever you want, you have the moral responsibility to give back to people less fortunate.”
“You’re preaching to someone who’s on the other end of the evil rituals,” Lindyss said, grabbing Erin and stuffing the fairy back into her hair. “He’s the person who starts the evil rituals that other people are obligated to stop.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Grimmy said. “Let the fairy come out; I want to debate with her some more.”
“You’re going to eat her, aren’t you?” Lindyss asked, narrowing her eyes at Grimmy.
Grimmy cleared his throat. “Now why would I do that?” he asked and redirected his gaze towards the ritual site. “She wouldn’t even sate my hunger. In fact, I’d use up more energy digesting her than I’d gain from consuming her.”
Lindyss rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you’re the type of person to take on small losses for yourself if it means you could create a large loss for someone else. I’m not going to let you eat her.”
Erin’s head popped out of Lindyss’ hair, her eyes glittering. “I knew it! You care about me! It took you so long to realize your feelings for me because you’re a frigid b—person, but you realized it!”
Lindyss sighed. “On second thought, you can eat her.”
Grimmy chuckled and turned his attention back onto the pit. “Once this thing’s created, it’ll take a couple of dragons to bring down. And once they’re all tired, and the creature’s almost dead, that’s when I’ll come in to take it.”
“Those people are dying as we speak, you know?” Erin asked and pointed at the villagers lining up in front of the pit. “Can you really abandon them so heartlessly?”
Grimmy snorted. “When I go to sleep for a hundred years, millions of humans will have died by the time I wake up. This tiny amount really isn’t much.”
Erin snorted. “Hmph, if you won’t save them, then I will! Watch as I, the mighty Erin Koller, save those people.” She flew down to Grimmy’s snout and pointed at the guards who were preventing the villagers from running. “Polymorph!”
Time seemed to freeze as the guards turned into sheep.
“That’s right! Run free, villagers!” Erin cheered. “You’re free now!”
As if they heard her, the villagers ran. Towards the sheep. With shouts and frenzied screams, the villagers wrangled the struggling sheep and threw them into the pit where they bleated before dissolving, wool and all. Then, they swarmed the people dressed in white robes and shoved them inside the bloody liquid too. Like savages, they howled and beat their chests while cheering towards the sky. Grimmy crossed his eyes to stare at Erin, who was frozen in shock on the tip of his snout. “So. You saved them. Congratulations.”
Erin bit her lower lip. “T-that wasn’t…, that’s…, why…?”
“Oh, looks like the ritual’s done anyway,” Grimmy said and beat his wings instead of answering Erin. “Villagers, guards, ritualists, all of them are catalysts. It doesn’t matter which ones fall into the pit as long as enough of them do.” The ground shook and fractured, causing the villagers down below to shout as they fell to their knees. “Well, let’s get out of here before things get messy.”
Erin dragged her feet along Grimmy’s scales and dropped to her knees in front of Lindyss, who was still sitting with her legs crossed. The fairy looked up at the cursed elf. “Did I…, did I do something wrong?”
Lindyss shrugged. “What’s right, what’s wrong, who are we to decide?”
***
“Mary, snap out of it!” Tafel shouted and avoided a sword strike aimed at her head. She gritted her teeth and summoned a wall of ice that was promptly destroyed by a punch from an armored hand. “Didn’t you say I was your friend? You don’t attack friends like this!”
Mary trembled, and her movements seemed to slow, but an instant later, her body regained its nimbleness and the edge of her sword came dangerously close to Tafel’s face. A few locks of hair fell to the ground, and a nick appeared on Tafel’s cheek, a single drop of blood oozing out. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and into her eyes, creating a stinging sensation, but she didn’t dare wipe them away.
“I never thought a magician would be able to survive for so long against my niece,” Zyocuh said and rubbed his chin, “and such a young one at that. What are you doing, Mary? Dispose of her already, or do you want to be punished?”
A shudder racked Mary’s body, and a small whimper escaped from her throat. Tafel’s eyes widened, and she took that chance to refresh the haste spell she had cast on herself. “Mary, you’re not a child anymore. He can’t punish you. You don’t have to listen to him.” Tafel swallowed when Mary didn’t respond but didn’t move to attack either. “Listen to me, your friend, instead.”
“Don’t you remember what you did to the last friend you had?” Zyocuh asked. He was squatting over Vur, painting red symbols on his unconscious body with a brush. Any attempts at reaching him were stopped by Mary, Alice nearly losing her head when she had tried. “You remember, don’t you, Mary? Do you think you deserve to have friends after that? You ripped that poor girl’s arm off.”
Mary whimpered again, her neck shrinking into her shoulders like a guilty puppy. “I, I didn’t mean to,” she said in a small voice. “I—”
A piercing snap echoed through the mostly empty remnants of the dining room. “Then do as I say and get r
id of her,” Zyocuh said and lowered his hand. Mary’s eyes glazed over again, and her body stopped shaking.
“That makes no sense at all,” Tafel said and pointed her staff at Mary. “How would killing me, your friend, atone for ripping off your childhood friend’s arm? Think about it, Mary. You might not be the best student, but that doesn’t mean you’re dumb. Your uncle’s using some weird method to control you.”
“Weird method?” Zyocuh asked. “Is listening to your guardian who simply wants the best for you a weird method?” He stopped painting on Vur’s stomach and smiled at Tafel while twirling the brush in his hand. “I was with Mary for the earliest ten years of her life. You were with her for how long? A week? Two weeks? Do you really think she values you more than she values me?”
“She doesn’t value you,” Tafel said. “She’s terrified of you.”
Zyocuh shrugged. “There is value in fear,” he said. “And clearly, fear is worth much more than friendship. Now, if you’ll so kindly stop interrupting me; I have a new vessel to prepare.”
Tafel glared at Zyocuh. “You know, you’re making me really, really mad,” she said. “I’ll give you one chance, just one, to stop everything you’re doing and get the hell out of Mary’s life. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take that chance.”
“Your threats reflect your age,” Zyocuh said and snorted. He rolled his eyes and dipped his brush into the inkwell by his side. “I’m so terrified. Mary, stop hesitating or you really will be punished.”
Tafel growled and narrowed her eyes. “You asked for it.” Her horns shone with a brilliant silver light, causing everyone in the room to squint lest they be blinded. She slammed the butt of her staff against the ground, and a massive portal appeared behind her, filling the whole width of the room and growing past the ceiling that had long been destroyed. Within the portal, there was the scenery of a cave with glowing crystal ores.
“What is this?” Zyocuh asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you thinking of running away?”
Tafel took in a deep breath and shouted, “Sera! Someone’s trying to kill Vur and I really need your help!”
A thunderous roar shook the room, echoing out of the cave. The tremors caused the edges of the portal to waver, but Tafel gritted her teeth and clenched her staff tighter, stabilizing the silver border. Earthquake-causing footsteps rang out as a massive figure appeared in Zyocuh’s line of sight. His eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw the sky-blue dragon galloping towards him. He looked down at the unconscious boy who had been imprinted by a dragon and looked back up at the dragon that was now in the dining room and staring down at him with murder in her eyes. It didn’t take him very long to figure out the connection between the two. Before he could say anything, Sera roared in his face, rupturing his ear drums and blowing him back with a breath that smelled oddly like cookies. He tumbled along the ground, and a claw that was larger than his whole body slammed down on him as if he were a fly being swatted.
Sera lifted her paw and snorted, exhaling white fire from her nostrils. Zyocuh twitched once, and Sera promptly brought her paw back down, the remains of the walls collapsing from the sudden impact. She lifted her paw once more and waited a moment to see if the pest would move again, but it didn’t. Her head tilted to the side, and she shrugged before slapping down again for good measure. When she brought her paw back, she frowned at the sight. Zyocuh was unmoving and covered in blood, but it was still easy to make out the outline of his body in contrast to the ground. “Why is this thing so sturdy?” Sera muttered and turned around. Her tail rose into the air, and she turned her head to look behind herself. Then she slammed her tail into the poor man over and over again until there was a ten-foot-deep fissure in the ground.
The people still in the room swallowed at the sight. They were all on their knees, bouncing up and down in time with the tail as the floor rose and fell. Alice whispered to Tafel, “Isn’t this cheating? I thought you’d depend on yourself to save Vur.”
Tafel shook her head. “I may be prideful, and I may want to do everything myself, but I’m not going to risk Vur’s well-being for some stupid satisfaction.”
“But, but the climax,” Alice said and bit her lower lip. “Don’t you believe in the whole growing-strong-while-struggling mentality? After nearly dying, you discover a newfound strength and achieve heights you’ve only dreamed about before.”
Tafel raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been reading too many stories,” she said before waving at Mary, who was standing and falling while moving around Sera like a bee buzzing around a bear ransacking its hive, wanting to take action but unsure how. “Calm down, Mary. Your uncle can’t hurt you now.”
“Is this okay?” Mr. Skelly asked, whispering to Tafel. He bounced up and down once Sera’s tail slammed into the ground again. “The easiest way to undo the magic on Vur is to have the person who casted it cancel it.” He gestured towards Sera. “But he’s currently…, yeah.”
“You have a very good point,” Tafel said and nodded. “However, don’t you think it’s already too late? He’d have to be incredibly strong to survive something like that. But I’ll ask anyway. Hey, Sera?” The dragon’s tail paused in the air as she turned her head back around and looked down at Tafel with murderous eyes. Tafel swallowed and shook her head. “Um. Never mind.”
Sera resumed thumping her tail, and Tafel shrugged at Mr. Skelly. Mr. Skelly shrugged back and stroked the portion of his helmet covering his chin. “You know what they say,” he said. “If your witness died, just bring him back to life. Let me see if I can get in contact with the mistress.”
“Don’t worry,” Sera said with a growl. “I’m only angry, not dumb. He’s still alive.”
“Really?” Alice asked, doubt coating her voice. “Your definition of alive and my definition of alive may be slightly different.”
Sera snorted and stopped pulverizing the ground. She used the tip of her tail to dig around the fissure and fished out a bloody thing that resembled a person’s shape. “See? Still alive,” she said and dropped Zyocuh onto the ground beside Vur. “What did this thing do to my baby?”
Tafel shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “A door opened connecting to Vur’s stomach, and a stream of light flowed from his body”—she pointed at Zyocuh—“into Vur’s. Then Vur fainted.”
Sera pushed away Mary, who was trying to get to Zyocuh, with her claw and nodded. Before she could say anything, a high-pitched voice echoed out from behind Tafel. “Woah! Is this the world called the outside?”
Three sky-blue dragon heads poked out of the portal that Tafel still hadn’t closed. They looked around in all directions, too scared to bring any other part of themselves through, before their bodies were shoved into the room by a golden dragon. “Make way, make way,” Vernon said.
“He’s calling us fat again,” Eldest whispered in a voice that everyone could hear.
“He’s saying we take up too much space,” Youngest said and nodded.
Bonnie sighed. “I wish Alora were here so I could feel smaller.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Alora shouted. “I’m totally smaller than you right now!”
The annoying trio exchanged glances with each other before trotting over to Alora. They surrounded her and smelled her, their nostrils flaring, like curious dogs. Their heads tilted this way and that. “Why are you a human?” Bonnie asked.
“Well, you’re still fat compared to other humans,” Eldest said and nodded.
“I’m not!”
“Aren’t you?” Youngest asked and poked Alora’s chest. “Look at how much fat is up here compared to her.” He pointed at Tafel with his tail. “See?”
Tafel covered her chest by crossing her arms and glared at the dragon before sighing. She teleported over to Sera, next to Vur’s body, and sat beside him. “Can you do anything, Sera?”
Sera clicked her tongue and waved at Vernon. “Dear, come here and take a look at Vur.”
Vernon raised an eyeb
row and craned his neck forward to squint at the two bodies on the ground. “He looks pretty dead to me: all squished and pasty. What happened to him? Was he crushed by a falling meteor?”
Tafel stared at her father-in-law with a face full of disbelief. “That’s not Vur.”
Vernon cleared his throat twice. “I knew that,” he said and nodded before shifting his gaze over onto Vur. “It was just a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny, Uncle Vernon,” Bonnie said.
Vernon snorted. “Be quiet, Eldest.”
“I’m not Eldest! Are you saying I sound like a boy?”
“No, I’m saying you all sound the same, Youngest,” Vernon said as he reached forward and flipped Vur onto his stomach. Bonnie thumped the ground with her tail before exhaling two jets of flames out through her nostrils. Vernon stroked his chin and nodded. “Yep. Mhm. I see, I see.”
“Well?” Tafel asked once Vernon stopped inspecting her husband.
Vernon tilted his head. “Well what?”
Tafel clenched her hands. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
“What’s wrong with him?” Vernon blinked. “Didn’t you just want me to look at him? Those weird symbols do look very nice. Did you draw them yourself?”
Sera smacked Vernon’s snout with her claw. “Some kind of red light entered Vur’s body, and he fainted.”
Vernon rubbed his stinging face. “And? What else?”
“That’s it.”
Vernon raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? You’re expecting me to draw a conclusion from that alone?”
“Well, no,” Tafel said. “You’re supposed to look at Vur too to see if you can find anything wrong with him.”
Vernon rolled his eyes. “So Vur fainted,” he said. “Just give him a few minutes and he’ll come to. What’s the big deal? You both act like Vur fainting is the end of the world. Heck, he fainted for ten years once and look at how he’s still perfectly normal. He’ll be fine.”