by Amy Lehigh
Both awakened around dawn. Boelik had to restart the fire and told Ryan to check the clothes. “Still wet,” he reported.
“All right,” Boelik replied with a sigh. The two ate a breakfast of salted meat, which Boelik cooked over the fire, and sat to talk for the day.
“So, I can just…call you Bo?” Ryan asked after lunch. They sat on opposite sides of the fire now. Boelik sat cross-legged, and Ryan tried to mimic him for a bit before settling for one leg stretched out and the other crossing it ankle-over-ankle.
Boelik shrugged as if he didn’t care. “If you prefer it.”
“Bo…” Ryan muttered, testing the name. “Why did you look so shocked?” he asked then, his focus returning to Bo’s strange attitude.
Bo looked down at the ground below him and imagined Olea’s face beneath. “Because I was only ever called that by one person.” Then, somewhat softer, “And that person has been dead a very long time.” His hands clamped onto his knees.
“I see,” Ryan mumbled, glancing to the ground himself. “I still don’t really know much about you,” he ventured.
“It’s better that way,” Bo said.
“Why?” Ryan’s gaze lifted to watch Bo again. His mouth was half frowning, half grimacing.
“My story is long and dull. I’d put you to sleep before I got halfway to Ireland.”
“Oh,” Ryan said. The topic switched after that, and they talked until they went to sleep. Then they woke and spoke some more, finally putting their clothes back on, as they were dry at last. Bo sighed in contentment as his cloak was once more around his shoulders.
That night, after Ryan had fallen asleep, Bo was looking through the trees at the starry sky above, watching the lights glittering in the sky. He couldn’t seem to fall asleep, despite the warm, peaceful night, when even the crickets were muted.
All at once, Bo’s head felt stuffy and a voice came from everywhere. “How is the pupil?”
“Hello, Dayo,” Boelik greeted softly.
“You don’t have to speak out loud, you realize,” the dragon said, sounding mildly amused.
“No?”
“I thought you would have figured it out by now. How is your head?”
“It feels rather stuffy.”
“So, you can detect me now. Good. Just think your words to me; I’ll hear them.”
All right, Bo tried.
“Good.”
This feels how I imagine insanity.
“It could possibly be deemed as such by an outsider. But you would seem more insane talking to yourself.”
I did wonder how you could always hear me. Now I know it was due to you being inside my head.
“Indeed. Anyway, the half-demon? How are you two faring?”
We’re well, minus the fact that we’ve no house. His name is Ryan, by the way.
“It sounds like you are becoming attached to him.”
I suppose so. Somewhat.
“Well, that’s good. Also, what is this about no house? I thought that cottage was where he was living?”
He was. Until someone found it, I broke the door, a demon nearly killed us, and we burned it down with the body inside. In that order, not at the same time.
“I see. So, what will you do now?
Build a new house. Start in a fresh place.
“Where will you get the materials?”
There’s a town not too far off. Unless you want to make a special delivery? Boelik thought hopefully.
“I will see what I can do. If I give you the materials, I would also request that you not use them as a demon’s funeral pyre as well.”
I think we can manage that.
“And how is his training?”
…Uh…
“Stop. Go no further. I can see you have not started.”
We’ve been getting to know each other first. It doesn’t seem like he’s really tested out his abilities very much, so I figured that training could wait and a little personal contact could come first.
“Fine, however you feel it will work the best.”
I appreciate the leeway. Then, Bo added, teasing, So are you going to be more sociable now?
Dayo didn’t answer for a long while, and if his head hadn’t still been stuffy Bo may have thought that the dragon had left.
“Maybe,” Dayo finally said. Bo laughed a little. “You seem much happier,” Dayo noted. Bo sighed, content.
I suppose that’s because I am.
“Because you are not alone?”
Maybe. I’m not exactly sure. But Ryan is a decent companion.
“So this is good for you both.”
Guess so. Ah, and Dayo?
“Yes?”
Exactly why did you stay quiet for four hundred years? For a short time, I’d almost thought you’d died.
“Ha. No,” Dayo said. “No, I was just waiting for a half-demon to be born that wasn’t determined to take after their demon blood right away. Also, they are not born that often, if you hadn’t noticed. But for some reason, more have started to pop up lately.”
Really?
“Yes. Though most of them are killed in such a short time after their birth that it is meaningless to contact you.”
That makes sense. Neither half of our parentage typically wants us, and to each species we’re abhorred and typically noted as abominations.
“All the more reason for you to help as many as you can.”
I suppose so. Bo turned onto his side, looking at Ryan who slept peacefully beside him. Other than his permanent snarl, his face appeared as innocent and normal as anyone else’s. Some of them don’t even know what they are.
“No. How would they? Their parents often abandon them.”
I know. But it makes the thought of it so much worse. I mean, when I told Ryan what he was…I’m not sure. It was like even he thought that he was a monster, just like the man who tracked him down and tried to kill him.
“I know,” Dayo rumbled gently. “It is hard on all half-breeds. Myself included, though for different reasons.”
Because a unicorn-dragon sounds preposterous and the title alone is utterly ridiculous? Bo teased.
“That is one reason,” Dayo growled. Bo laughed again.
Ah. That aside, were you simply checking in to check in, or…?
“Just to check in. One reason to be glad half-demons aren’t so plentiful, I suppose, is that I don’t have to have you stumbling around to herd them all up like lost lambs.”
I would try anyway.
“I know you would. It’s why I’m glad I do not have to ask you to.”
Glad you’re thinking of me, Bo thought with a smirk.
“Don’t be cheeky, now. I could still swallow you in one bite, you know.”
You’d have to catch me first.
Dayo was quiet for a minute. “I think you are very tired.”
I think you’re right. In fact, I know you’re right. I’m going to sleep now.
“That is a good idea. I will drop off your resources within a matter of days.”
All right. We’ll just tell stories until then.
“Don’t give him nightmares,” Dayo teased before breaking the connection and allowing Bo’s head to clear.
Why would I do that? I have my own, Bo thought before sleep stole him.
***
In the morning, Bo and Ryan awakened and spent another day talking. And another after that.
“What are we waiting for?” Ryan finally asked in the afternoon of the third day. Bo was sitting and staring at nothing in particular, and Ryan paced aimlessly around the fire.
“A delivery,” was all Bo said.
“Well that’s specific,” Ryan replied, looking to Bo expectantly.
“And it’s as specific as you’ll get until it arrives,” Bo replied, unwrapping his now-healed hand and throwing the cloth strip into the fire. Ryan sighed and returned to pacing.
The following morning, just before dawn, the two were awakened by a distant racket. Moving out to
inspect the area, they found a few pallets of wood. More than enough for the house Bo had had in mind, in fact. You outdid yourself, Bo thought to Dayo as he felt a stuffiness return to his head, crossing his arms. He stared at the pile of wood and Ryan’s inquisitive inspection of it.
“Why, thank you. I thought you would appreciate the amount I’d supplied. There are tools on top of the southernmost stack, by the way,” Dayo replied, a strange lilt in his voice. “I also took the liberty of getting you a door.”
Are you…pleased with yourself? Bo thought, amused with the dragon.
“Yes I am,” Dayo stated plainly. “I don’t see why not: it was hard work to supply all of that wood.”
Glad you’ve nothing better to do.
“I have many better things to do,” the dragon replied haughtily. Then, more calm, “But, allies take priority. Tentative friends, even higher. Besides, I could not have you two finding some abandoned house and taking it over like a fox finding an open den.”
Thanks.
“Oh, my apologies,” Dayo said, a flash of heat running through Bo as the dragon shared his embarrassment. “I forgot about your mother.”
Maybe you should stop talking.
“Right. I will speak with you again soon, Boelik,” Dayo said, and Bo’s head cleared out. He shook his head and sighed, uncrossing his arms.
“Come on, Ryan,” he said, sidling over to the southernmost stack of wood. “I’m going to teach you some carpentry.”
Ryan stood from a crouch where he’d been examining a moth on one of the stacks of wood. “Carpentry?” he asked, tilting his head a little, and Bo gave a good-natured sigh.
“Grab some wood and the tools on top there,” Bo said with a gesture to the pile. “We have a house to build.”
In a matter of several weeks, the two managed to finish their new home. At first, Ryan was absolutely useless with tools. Bo couldn’t even count how many times he had to yell at the boy to be careful, or how many times Ryan hit his own fingers with the tools or the wood, or how many times Ryan cursed like a sailor. Or even how many times he swung a board around and accidentally hit Bo with it. And Bo often had to have Ryan do his part in a day over again…or just do it over again himself.
Now, the two stood back from their cabin. Sweat plastered their hair to their heads in the cool, late-autumn evening, and leaves scuttled along the ground in the slight breeze. Bo put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Slower than I would have liked,” he admitted. “But it still looks fairly decent.”
“What do you think?” Ryan asked, turning his head just enough that Bo could see the human side of his face, his blue eye glinting. “Would you hire me?”
“No.” After a moment he added, “But, you did improve.”
Ryan stared at his hands, covered in healing wounds. “It was very painful.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you try to rush with tools. They bite back. Time for supper?” Ryan nodded.
“I’m starving,” he gushed.
They sat by a fire and cooked a rabbit that they caught in a snare. As they ate, Bo decided it was high time he talked with Ryan about their next goal. “Ryan,” he said after swallowing a mouthful of meat.
“Hrm?” Ryan blinked blankly at Bo, his voice muffled by his own food.
“You haven’t really used your abilities much, have you?”
“Abilities?” Ryan asked, gulping down his rabbit. Juice dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away with his sleeve. That reminded Bo—they’d soon need new clothes.
“The ones your demon blood gives you. Your speed, your sight, whatever extra power you may have gained.”
“Oh,” Ryan said. “Well, not really.”
“I think it’s time I taught you to use them.”
Ryan cast his eyes to the ground. Quietly, Bo heard him say, “But I don’t even want them. Do I have to use them?”
“Yes. They are yours, and you control them. You can’t let them control you out of fear, or any other reason. That’s why I want—need—to teach you how to use them,” Bo explained.
“Now?” Ryan peeked up at him from where he had his head lowered, like a guilt-ridden pup.
“No, not now. But we start tomorrow.”
“All right,” he sighed.
That night, Bo stared up at the dark ceiling, the scent of new wood swirling around him and Ryan’s breathing filling the otherwise silent air as his warm presence slept beside him. The only thing that reminded Bo that he wasn’t alone anymore.
As he reminisced on his past, Bo felt his head get full of cotton. Now a familiar sensation. Dayo? he thought.
“Hello, Boelik.”
Checking in again?
“Are you training yet?”
Oddly convenient that you asked that tonight, because I just told Ryan we’d begin playing with his abilities tomorrow.
“I thought as much. I have ears in many places, you know.”
What, do you commune with crows?
“No. I just happen to be friends with a few ravens.”
All right then.
“Besides that, I bear some dark news.” Dayo’s tone was low now, and Bo’s blood ran cold.
What is it?
“I have been monitoring demon levels for a long time now. They’ve been steadily on the rise, and recently they’ve seemed to simply be…appearing.”
What do you mean, ‘appearing’? Out of thin air, or what? Popping out of the ground like daisies?
“I’m not sure, which is half of the dilemma. Normally, when one pops up, I can discern where it came from, or at least what from. But now…they seem to simply manifest. I have a very bad feeling about it.”
How does it look around here?
“Ireland seems to be fairly safe for the moment. There are some on the continent, but not as many as on the more densely populated ones. The more humans, the more demons are around. But they do seem to be multiplying exponentially, so be cautious.”
But, Dayo, how can they be populating so fast without reason? I don’t believe that I understand the circumstances.
“Boelik… how old are you?”
What? Bo hesitated for a moment before answering, the question catching him off guard. I suppose…about four hundred and thirty-six, now. Why? What does that have to with anything?
Bo heard Dayo sigh. “Four hundred and thirty-six. We are both old men. And we will both be very old men to join in what I expect to come.”
Dayo, explain to me what the devil you are talking about.
Dayo sighed once more, the sound heavy in Bo’s head. “In nearly two hundred and fifty years, if I gather correctly, the charge I told you of will be born. That one will be accompanied by another; and if that companion is what I have seen it to be, we will have much blood on our hands.” His voice became lower and distant, as though he were speaking to himself, “The rivers themselves will run red…”
Why? Dayo, explain it to me already! I am growing fed up with your speaking in riddles.
“Boelik. I will explain what I feel comfortable in knowing,” Dayo finally said. “Every thousand years, demons and other creatures known as morphers come together and battle to keep the balance. When the demons win, the world is cast into darkness and morphers have to fight to regain the world’s balance. When the morphers win, equilibrium is achieved and demons fall into something of a rarity.”
Morphers? Bo thought in a pause in Dayo’s speech.
“Yes. They are protectors: they keep demon-kind from running rampant. They are creatures with—normally—two forms, typically one of a human and another of an animal.”
Okay? How, exactly?
“This world is full of magic, Boelik, if you look for it. Not just parlor tricks. You should know this as well as anyone.”
What does all of this have to do with these charges and the demons? Bo asked, though he was getting an idea.
“Boelik, there is another thing. This companion to your strange charge will be a morpher destined to lead the army
of such.” There was a pause, and in the instant Bo thought of the answer to his question, Dayo said it. “The thousand years are almost over.
***
Bo awakened from a fitful sleep, his heart beating hard from the recurring nightmare that had been haunting him for a while now. He dreamt of Ryan dying like Olea, except instead of being absent, Bo was all too there. A sea of demons would be between him and Ryan; and no matter how many he ripped into, ducked under, or leapt over, Ryan’s screams wouldn’t stop.
And then they would.
So when dawn’s light crept through a crack in the door and Bo looked over to see Ryan still intact, sleeping like a lamb, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. He let Ryan doze while he went outside to sit in the cool, crisp morning air and tend to the fire.
The sun shone between the trees, casting strange patterns of light on the ground. Birds sang in the branches, and soon Bo’s uneasiness faded into a memory just like his nightmare. Thunder rolled far in the distance, not yet a threat.
Bo began cooking breakfast and thinking about the conversation he’d had with Dayo the other night while he waited for Ryan wake up. “Two hundred and fifty years,” he mused, “is not a long time. I can see why the demons are getting ready now.” Thinking aloud as he cooked, he asked, “But where are they coming from?”
His attention was grabbed by movement from the house, and he turned to see Ryan coming out the door, rubbing his eyes, gray hat on his head.
“Sorry I’m up late,” he yawned. “It’s strange sleeping under a closed roof again.”
Bo watched as Ryan plunked down near the fire. “It’s fine; I’d rather you sleep well before training. It’s no good to be tired and worked to the bone.”
“So you were serious about that, huh?” Ryan groaned, taking his meal of rabbit meat from Bo, who sat next to him. Ryan sat in his signature pose with his feet stretched toward the meager fire, his strange legs prohibiting him from mimicking Bo.