Fool Proof

The vibrant green forest was quiet. Too quiet for an Anoxiver morning when life was supposed to be in renewal, and quieter than it was yesterday. Éimhím trudged onwards, unsettled. His pastel, deep lime green scales with their rich pink undertones, bristled. It shouldn’t have been so quiet, especially not during the yearly two-week eclipse. He had gone years and years seeing it all over the world, and it was never this quiet even in the calmest of places, let alone here, the most dangerous region during the lightlessness.

Where a sun should have been glistening through the trees, only a haze of twilight purple remained. It made it difficult to see anything from prey to monsters. And of course, his blissful Absalomian was napping away on his back mid hunt… None of it was helping complete the job his ever so brainless partner, Cillian, picked up.

“I won’t nap! Nolan told us to be careful because being anywhere near Absalom during the eclipse is extra dangerous thanks to the Hero-King’s victory against the Goddess of Death two thousand years ago!” Éimhím mocked quietly to himself as he thought back to the conversation between them and the Dagdian. “Dangerous means more money to relax and enjoy life!”

Yet, over the past week, Cillian napped on every single hunt.

“The lack of a sun made him sleepy,” his partner had whined. “The lush trees in the valley between two beautiful mountain ranges made it so cozy!”

Despite his every excuse, Cillian was up and ready to murder whenever their monster showed up, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Nope, his stupid other half would kill it and then go right back to sleep. It was almost funny, had it not left Éimhím to do everything else… like actually hunt. It would have been easier if he could fly, but it was far too dangerous. He was even left to find basic meals should the hunt grow long, meals that his picky Absalomian would eat, then he had to cook them! What dragon cooks meals?!

However, despite the dangers of the eclipse, there was a new danger to worry about: a self-proclaimed god running around. They had sacked the northern kingdom of Absalom the day after they settled into the Outland valley.

Éimhím sighed. He wasn’t expecting this new threat to them when they arrived. They were familiar with the valley as well as both Absalom and the kingdom down south, Seraphina. Both had been homes to them at one time or another and had travelled the river carved valley many times. Everything outside the kingdoms were the Outlands, but this valley was nothing new to them… or at least it should have been even during the eclipse.

But to Cillian, if some monster sacking an ancient dragon kingdom wasn’t enough to stir any sense into him, a literal monster-filled, no man’s land sure as hell wasn’t. If anything, the idea of Creatures of Darkness hunting down Creatures of Light for fun, aka them, only fuelled Cillian’s drive for that, “Sweet, sweet gold… Oh Cillian. You’re not cut out for any of this and don’t even care about the gold. Why not just relax or explore for the sake of it?”

Éimhím stopped and looked back at the custom saddle where his Absalomian laid, unable to fall out of it due to bassinet-like raised sides. The bastard even had his blanket out…

“Get cold, did you? It’d be a shame if I dumped you into the crisp Elpe River when we get back… I bet it’s still freezing…”

The pale brunet didn’t so much as move, either not knowing what Éimhím said, or Cillian’s single fragment of a neuron subconsciously knew that he wouldn’t do it. He hadn’t before, and he was unlikely to in the future.

A sharp cry ripped through the silent woods unexpectedly, grabbing Éimhím’s attention. The bushes ahead rustled and was accompanied by the footfalls of something deadly. The low- and high-pitched growls of Outland Monsters finding a Creature of Light to rip apart were all too familiar.

Éimhím dashed ahead towards the stumbling and growling. The whimpering of a desperate child trying to escape grew ever closer. It was either a trap laid by a monster, or there was a child out and about, and he wasn’t going to ignore it in the case of the latter.

It wouldn’t be the first kid to try and play hero in the Outlands, but he doubted this one was here by choice. They were far from Golden Valley Outpost and farther still from Kal Alna Outpost which was much further north.

He broke through some of the thicker trees to see six, light lavender feathered wings sticking out like a sore thumb against the green foliage. They bobbed and weaved, then escaped a bush, attached to a toddler with the same hair and eye colour as the wings. The boy had a few cuts across his face and exposed arms. The Seraphinean’s already wide eyes widened more at the sight of Éimhím. His pupils, a darker shade to their irises practically disappeared in terror. The boy tried to fly away to the right, not getting any higher than a metre before falling back to the earth, screaming.

Éimhím commanded a small bit of water magic. Ice walls formed around the boy on all sides then sealed the top, keeping him still and safe. The ice was clear, allowing the boy to still see, but he pounded on his prison all the same. Monsters darted out of the bushes. They were of various forms from wild dogs with reptilian heads to grotesque amalgamations of decaying flesh with spider legs.

Valrdis always had a weird fascination for making spider-like monsters, which didn’t help the arachnophobic population. Fortunately, he wasn’t arachnophobic. A monster was a monster and the soulless things needed to be removed.

True to monsters of the lesser tiers, they rushed at him without thought other than dragon blood being on the menu, and he rolled his eyes. They were barely Typoregula classed, yet they were stupidly adamant in their single purpose to murder all the same. If only they had a sense of self preservation…

Éimhím tapped a claw on the ground and ice spikes appeared under each monster, skewering them clean through. They burst to ash one by one and were gone. The Seraphinean boy stopped pounding on the ice, looking up at Éimhím as he turned back towards the child.

Éimhím opened the top just enough to have a conversation with him. “You’re safe.”

“You’re gonna eat me!” the boy cried.

“No, I’m not going to eat you,” he reassured, easing his tone. “I’m going to let you out, but you have to promise not to run away, alright? It’s dangerous and I can’t help you get home if you run.”

The boy frowned, his lip quivering. “No eat?”

“No eat.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

The toddler thought long and hard. Then, he nodded, and Éimhím dismissed the box into a cloudy mist. He took several steps back and lowered himself to the ground to be as close to eye level as he could be to make the boy more comfortable. The boy eyed him before flying up, a bit more coordinated now, and landed on Éimhím’s slightly narrow snout. They stared at each other for a moment.

The boy waved. “Hi… thank you for not eating me…”

“Hello, and you’re welcome,” Éimhím answered quietly. “I’m Éimhím, what’s your name?”

“Heru, and I’m three years old!” the boy said, holding up four fingers.

“Heru, what a brave name. What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Who’s Heru?” Cillian yawned and climbed up Éimhím’s neck to peer over his head. “Oh, you’re Heru.”

“Yes!” Heru waved, far more comfortable with someone that looked similar to him. “Hello!”

“Hi… Éimhím, when did we adopt a kid?”

Éimhím sighed silently. “We didn’t. I found him being chased by monsters.”

“Found, adopted, same thing to you. How many cats have we had because you found them?”

“This is not the same thing. I don’t wish to keep him.”

“Thank the gods, I can’t take care of myself let alone a kid!”

Oh, Éimhím was well aware of that. “As I was asking, Heru, how did you get out here?”

“I was with Mummy and Papa… we went to the pretty temple! Then we went on the choo choo! Then monsters attacked!” the boy said. His voice even at his age was like other Seraphineans, a bit posh and witty sounding, but it was Éimhím’s favourite accent to listen to. “Then we went camping with others… that was okay… theeeen… erm… oh! Then a BOOM! People were running and a monster pushed me away. I ran, trying to get to Mummy’s voice… but I couldn’t.”

“Do you know how long you’ve been out here?”

“Hmmm… forever.”

Helpful. “So, you were with others? Where were you going?”

“Home! We were supposed to fly on boat! But after choo choo, we went camping instead. Too many mosquitoes in dragon land… I didn’t like it. Bugs ew.”

“Bugs are ew,” Cillian agreed. “Soooo… you were going home on an airship after… um…”

“The train,” Éimhím filled in.

“Yes, that. But monsters attacked. So, you went camping?”

The boy nodded and Éimhím sighed before Cillian could ask why. “They probably had to; they were most likely in the assault and have been trying to get home with a group of other Seraphineans.”

“Oooh, that makes way more sense. Wait, why didn’t they just go to Asylotum like all the other Absalomians?”

“What’s… ass… ass-low… huh?” Heru struggled. “That place?”

Éimhím got the conversation back on course, not meaning to ignore the boy’s questions, but they were far from safe enough out here to have idle chat. “If you were out here forever, did you see the two moons rise for nighttime?”

“No moons! It hasn’t been nap time yet.”

Éimhím’s heart lifted in relief. “Then I think I know where your parents are.”

The boy’s wings raised in glee. “Really?!”

“I don’t know for sure, but a group of people came to the outpost nearby this morning. They looked like they had gone camping and looked just like you. Do you want to go and see?”

Heru nodded excitedly.

“Okay, let’s heal up those scratches and we’ll go.”

“Okay.”

“Cillian-”

“I can’t heal!” his Absalomian partner protested, still on his head. “I don’t heal. I stab with light and water. You do all that extra stuff.”

Éimhím frowned, looking up the best he could at his partner who stared back with chocolate-coloured eyes. His slit pupils were harder to see in the lighting than usual. “We went through this last night…”

“Yeah, but I’m a moron, you know that.”

“You don’t need to be smart to heal…” he sighed, giving up on the argument.

He wished Cillian could heal because then Éimhím wouldn’t have to summon his healing elemental. It was a waste of energy, but it was the only way to complete small jobs like this. He turned his attention to Heru and focused on summoning his elemental. The small, white orb, Ailbha, appeared promptly cooing to his ears alone. He gave her a silent instruction to heal Heru, making the orb dance with joy. She flew over to Heru, shifting up and down and healing the scratches as she went. After a final twirl to make sure she got everything; she disappeared back into his magic reserves.

Heru grinned. “That was cool!”

“She is.”

“And now that that’s done, we should hunt that monster!” Cillian suggested like the idea was the best one he had ever had. “Since his parents should be at the outpost where we have to turn in the bounty, we can do both things at once!”

“Cillian… we can’t fight a monster with a toddler,” Éimhím said, shaking his head.

“Why not? Heru probably knows magic! It’ll make the hunt go faster! Heru! Come up here so you can get to the saddle on Éimhím’s back!”

Heru’s eyes widened in excitement. “Okay!”

Éimhím took a deep breath as Heru climbed up his face to the top of his head then slid down to the saddle as if the smooth scales on his neck were a slide. He wished with all his might for Cillian to have even a fraction of what Éimhím had in brain power. He was even willing to give up that fraction just for him. It would have been enough for common sense to open the paper wrapping of a candy bar before eating it, let alone something as substantial as this.

He was good at one thing and one thing only… killing monsters. And that left the rest of the decision making to Éimhím. It clearly wasn’t going to be his poor, poor, simpleton of a partner. The bliss of his idiocy was the only thing that got Éimhím through days like today. Cillian was rarely ever upset. He was happy, constantly, which was fantastic. Admittedly though, Éimhím wished to have a more normal, symbiotic relationship like other Absalomians did.

Ah well… “Cillian.”

“Yeah?”

“Please answer me something.”

“Erm…” His partner stopped shuffling on his back. “Why does it sound like I said something dumb?”

“How old are you?”

“Er… seven-hundred-thirty… Um… four! Seven-hundred-thirty-four!”

“Great, so you’ve been on this planet for seven-hundred-thirty-four years, and in all that grand time… Why in Orithina’s name… do you think… a three-year-old, could possibly know magic?!”

“No need to get your scales riled up,” Cillian sighed, rolling his eyes. “He’s got six wings, that’s why.”

“He’s got six wings…” Éimhím started laughing in disbelief. He couldn’t even say Cillian was dropped as a child. If he had been, a brain might have developed. It was so empty in there that if one blew in Cillian’s ear, it would sound like the sea. From then on, he’d be convinced that there was an ocean in his head. “Oh, good gods how am I not dead yet…”

“What? Seraphs start puberty at like eight, which is super early for everyone else, meaning they mature faster.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet Cillian. Your heart is in the right place; I just wish you had a brain to match.” He felt Cillian’s annoyed glare on him as Éimhím started trotting back towards the outpost. “Seraphineans only start learning magic when they start to mature. Do me a favour and go back to sleep. Fifty years living in Seraphina taught you nothing, and I don’t want something to happen.”

“It taught me that six-winged Seraphs are magically inclined and super smart!” Cillian defended. “And I can’t nap now! What if something happens to Heru on the way back? I have to watch him!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…”

Cillian mocked his words back, but turned back to entertaining Heru, which wasn’t hard considering they were mentally the same age. Éimhím stayed out of it, though he wished he could fly. It would have been so much faster, and it would dampen Cillian’s ability to somehow screw up. But unfortunately, there were Outland Dragon Hordes flying around and they wouldn’t think twice about ambushing a lone Absalomian dragon. And for as well studied as Éimhím was and how skilled Cillian was in killing things, two Outland Dragons were more than they could handle, let alone a patrol of five, all with Heru. So, trotting it was. His bounds across the land and between the trees were great cover to hide from the dark scaled beasts that flew above, somewhere out of sight and attempting to be out of mind.

Éimhím stopped looking up and turned to Cillian’s view, checking in on their suspiciously quiet moment. Cillian was digging into their food bag with a single thought on his mind: Feed Heru.

“Cillian?” Éimhím started, talking through their symbiotic link to keep their noise level down. The last thing he wanted was a monster to hear them while Cillian was busy getting lunch. “What are you going to feed Heru?”

“You packed some yummy grapes and hot dogs without the bun!” Cillian answered, all pleased with himself. “Kids love grapes and hot dogs without the bun!”

That they did, which is why Cillian loved them. It was nice that he was actually thinking, somewhat, for a change. “You can’t just give them to Heru. You have to cut them up.”

“Why?”

“It’s a choking hazard.”

“Oooh… Right.” Instead of pulling out his emergency dagger on his belt like Éimhím expected, Cillian pulled out a clean knife from the food bag.

Éimhím couldn’t help but smile at not needing to say anything. They were far and few when Cillian had his smart moments, and each one filled Éimhím’s heart, proud of his partner. It had taken him a long time, but as the years grew on, he was having more and more of them. Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t cherish his other half no matter how stupid or smart he was or became. Cillian was Cillian and Éimhím would do anything he could to keep him dumb and happy or learning and happy should he wish. He knew Cillian would do anything for him, too.

“Heru’s now thirsty,” Cillian said, breaking through Éimhím’s thoughts. “What should I do?”

“Grab the water and not your alcohol. Heru should be able to drink from the pouch without issues.”

“Thank you!” Cillian grabbed the beige water pouch, ignoring the burgundy alcohol one and unscrewed the top. A too familiar smell of alcohol came from it through their link.

“Don’t give him that one! You put your whisky in the water pouch again!”

“Huh? No, I didn’t.”

“Taste it.”

Cillian looked at Éimhím with scrutiny but did as he requested. “Oh, so I did. But it tastes great! We’ll have to get some more. This is nothing like what they have at any of the other outposts.”

He grabbed the other pouch, and this time no alcoholic scent wafted from it. Cillian tested it first, just to make sure, then gave it to Heru, who drank it just fine.

Éimhím sighed, crisis averted.

Heru giggled from his spot on the saddle. “This’s so fun! And we’re going so fast!”

“You should see how fast we go when Éimhím flies,” Cillian agreed, just as loud and excitedly.

“Cillian, you need to lower your voices,” Éimhím warned.

“Why are you speaking through the link? Heru is right here, it’s rude.”

“Link?” Heru asked.

Éimhím held a sigh, keeping his voice just above a rumble. “Yes. I can talk to Cillian in his head just like he can in mine… We’re partners, siblings in a way as we have the same parents.”

“I… don’t get it. You’re a dragon.”

“You will when you’re older, but we were born together, and our parents and their dragons raised us. So if you see people like me, you’ll find a dragon nearby since we’re connected to them!” Cillian exclaimed. “It’s great because we’re never alone!”

“Cillian, shush,” Éimhím hissed, just soft enough to not scare Heru, but harsh enough to catch the Absalomian’s attention.

“What? It’s not a secret.”

“No, but our voices carry. It’s dangerous and we don’t want attention.”

“Yes, we do! That’s why we came from Shiloharu and travelled across the ocean in the first place! For the monster hunts!”

“We don’t have any bounties except the one,” he continued just above a mutter. He sighed and tried a different approach. “We already smell like food with our combined dragon blood, add in a six-winged Seraph and that’s just ringing a bell. We don’t want Heru hurt.”

“He won’t get hurt. He has us to defend him.”

“Nolan told you specifically to be quiet because of-” Éimhím didn’t get to finish as a howl tore through the forest, one that rattled the very earth with low growling and high-pitched screeches.

“Oooh, riiiiight,” Cillian said in the awful silence that followed. “I forgot he said that. Whoops.”

Éimhím didn’t answer but kept vigilant for the monster that made the noise.

Cillian told Heru to stay down as he reached for the outside of the raised saddle for his weapon.

Something cast a shadow over the bushes to the right and Éimhím turned sharply, blasting out a torrent of water. It caught only its feline back legs, but not enough to displace it. The monster flew upwards on large, black feathered wings.

Cillian ran down Éimhím’s tail, his scythe in hand while Éimhím followed the monster carefully, waiting for it to swoop on them again. Its face was rimmed with a majestic mane and had large eyes. The monster was fuzzy to no end, which wasn’t helped by the beautiful black and white stripes. It made it look almost cute, until it opened its mouth filled with large feline fangs like that of a tyraulia, hissing. A large, poofy tail was curled over its back with a sharp scorpion end that twitched in anticipation.

It swooped down, its front legs like that of an eagle’s but with five talons instead of three, opened and ready to gouge out Éimhím’s scales. He didn’t move besides flicking his tail upwards, launching Cillian at the beast. His partner went flying past, giggling like a maniac. The monster noticed too late, unable to stop as the scythe stabbed deep into the creature’s back. It sliced through and hooked onto the base of its tail. The creature fell backwards, dragged down by the extra weight. Cillian jerked just before they landed, slicing the tail clean off.

It howled, turning on him. Éimhím summoned a wall of ice, separating the two of them. The creature smashed into it. He dropped the barrier as Cillian came rushing back at it. It went to take off, but Éimhím wouldn’t let it, summoning a spire of light to stab through its middle. The scythe caught a hind leg, letting Cillian use it to swing up onto its back, carving it off its body. As the leg hit the floor, it turned to ash. Roaring in rage, the monster turned its head on him to strike, but only left its neck wide open. The scythe reaped, separating the head from the body, only bleeding for a moment before bursting to ash.

Cillian landed with grace without a sweat broken. He cheered, the hardest weapon he could master held up in the air in one hand, threatening to stab his head should he tilt his hand ever so slightly downwards. “Monster hunt complete! Erm… That was the megremozur, right?”

“Surprisingly… it was,” Éimhím said.

Cillian’s face brightened again. “Heroepos-classed monster dead without a problem! We’re getting dessert tonight!”

“Yes,” Éimhím chuckled, not wanting to point out that they always got dessert. “And as usual, you made short work of it.”

His partner grinned ear to ear, showing off his sharp canines. He walked over and hopped onto Éimhím’s back. “Time to take Heru to the outpost!”

“Shhh, there are still other monsters…”

“Right…” Cillian whispered out his grand declaration, “Onward! To the outpost!”

Heru quietly cheered.

00000

They returned back at Golden Valley Outpost which sat just at the bank of Elpe River. It wasn’t close enough for it to be caught in a flood, but close enough that it was convenient to build an artificial port to connect to it should water bound ships need refuge. They walked through the large gates that protected the hamlet and its people within. Just inside, a party of fifteen Seraphineans and a handful of Dagdians that Éimhím had seen earlier that morning looked worse for wear. Exhausted and sweaty, some of their clothes were bloody. Their kids were off to the left, giving them a berth by the mercenary hub where a few mercenaries watched over them. Éimhím could hear them coax the kids to give their parents some space for the moment, using cookies as an incentive most likely from the tavern around the corner.

One of the Dagdians of the group snapped to Éimhím. The Dagdian woman’s eyes glowed with magic, lighting up her tanned skin, but they quickly dimmed to a normal soft blue in realization that Éimhím wasn’t a monster. There was barely a mutter from the woman as she talked to the group. Two Seraphineans from the party came flying at him unexpectedly, causing him to take a step back before they hit his snout.

“You went out there, right?!” the red-haired and four-winged, pale woman asked urgently, covered in grime and dirt. “You went north, yes?! Have you… did you see-”

“Stella, I know this is hard, but you can’t keep asking everyone-” her equally pale partner started, his six, violet wings shifting in exhaustion and panic as she turned on him in rage.

“I can and I will! This is our baby! I’m not giving up on him! Ripley, I can’t…”

“I don’t want to either, but it’s been hours and there were so many monsters. We’ve looked everywhere…”

“Gods, I know! But he was in my arms and then he…” She broke down, landing on the ground on her knees. The other Seraphinean followed her, holding her while trying to ease her grief.

Éimhím looked away, only imagining how the couple felt, but knew it was far worse. Cillian slipped off his back and walked up beside them.

“Cillian, leave them to grieve.”

“You guys lost a baby?” Cillian asked ever so unthoughtfully, ignoring Éimhím.

“Cillian!”

The parents looked up, distraught. Ripley choked on his words, “Y-yes…”

“Well… while we don’t have a baby, we did find a kid who’s napping in my spot. You wouldn’t know who his parents are, would you? They were maybe a part of your group? I don’t know, Éimhím said something about-”

“A kid?!” The man was gone before Stella could even say a word. Éimhím watched him fly around to his side to the saddle. Ripley dropped onto it. “Heru?! Oh gods, Heru!”

“Mmm…” The kid woke up, uncovering himself from the blanket. His eyes widened. “Papa!”

Stella rushed from the other side and landed beside them. The two of them squeezed Heru tightly, causing him to complain somewhere underneath all the feathers.

Cillian moved into Éimhím’s sight with a furrowed brow. Éimhím frowned. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah… They said they lost a baby, but now they’re all happy about us finding some kid… I don’t get it.”

“Heru is their baby.”

“But he’s not a baby… he’s three.”

Éimhím laughed lightly. “I think Heru will always be their baby.”

“This is one of those parent things I don’t get, isn’t it…”

“Yes… and since I doubt they will be getting off my back any time soon, you want to turn in that mission?”

Cillian shrugged, but Éimhím could tell he didn’t understand what he meant either. “Okay. Want a snack since you’re going to be there for a while? We can go for a late lunch afterwards.”

“I would love that, thank you.”

Cillian grinned again and skipped off towards the hub.

Éimhím turned back to the family on his back. Their soft words of comfort to each other and glee that they were together again brought tears to his eyes. He was happy that they could reunite the family, something that if it hadn’t been for Cillian, would have never happened.