The Conciege
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Gifted - Chapter 8 - A Guardian
🕑 Added 2024-01-10 05:02:24 +0000 UTCMelmarc was staring at the orange creature and just couldn’t see a dragon.
“What do you mean it’s not a dragon?” Ark looked between him and the creature. “That’s got to be a dragon.”
The creature unfurled itself from its cooped up position, and Melmarc saw its head clearly.
“Well, for starters, it’s got horns.”
Ark looked down at the creature. “Well, it could be a different breed of dragons. Who said dragons can’t have horns?”
For something that looked very unnatural, even if it was a little cute with its smallish figure and wide mouth that looked as if it was going to always be smiling, Ark had no problem standing right next to it.
How long has he had it, exactly?
Melmarc opened his mouth to give his brother more reasons why the creature was not a dragon when it opened its eyes.
Large orbs of black eyes looked at him, stained with countless white dots. It was like looking at a star-filled night sky. The entire eye was the single orb, and he found himself unable to look away from it.
“Mel?” Ark stared between the both of them, then smiled. “See? I told you it was a dragon.”
Melmarc shook his head, as if from a trance. He turned his attention back to his brother.
“You don’t know that,” he said. “It’s got no wings. It’s got two horns, and its head is a bit too round for a dragon.”
Ark looked behind Melmarc, checking if there was anyone else listening in. He still had the cardboard box in hand, just in case. “Dragon-Knight’s familiar had a round head when it was small, too. It’s got pictures all over the internet.”
“But it didn’t have horns," Melmarc said. "And it had wings.”
“Then maybe this one’s like a land dragon that can’t fly.”
The creature rose on all four clawed limbs and Melmarc took an involuntary step back. On all fours it barely rose two inches higher than Ark’s ankle. It didn’t even look like a threat of any kind.
Melmarc looked between it and Ark and cocked a brow. “Do you really want a flightless dragon? That’s like being happy you got a flightless bird.”
“There’s a name for those: Penguins. And there’s nothing wrong with a flightless dragon, just like there’s nothing wrong with penguins.”
“Who said there’s anything wrong with penguins?” Melmarc turned on his phone and went to the internet. After a few taps and a quick search, he turned the screen to his brother. “See? They look similar, but not enough to be the same.”
On the screen of his phone was a picture of Dragon-Knight in a casual outfit and his familiar—a small dragon—on his shoulder. Melmarc estimated the picture had been taken at least two decades ago when the Delver was still a very public figure.
At the time he had been a sensation. The first Delver to also have a familiar that wasn’t summoned. When it had been young, his dragon familiar had been cute, and black, very black. Now it was larger than a house, still black, and vastly dangerous. Dragon-Knight was also no longer a public figure. As his strength had grown his publicity had dimmed.
Now the only time people saw him was when he was entering portals.
Ark bent down to rub the little creature’s head, and it pushed its head against his palm the way cats do when they enjoy a person’s touch.
Ark rubbed the top of its head gently before moving lower to scratch under its jaw. As he did this, he looked up at Melmarc’s phone.
“So Dragon-Knight’s familiar’s jaw was a little squared,” he said. “And it had wings. So what? They’ve got the same eyes, though.”
Melmarc turned his phone and looked at it. Not that he needed to. Everyone knew what the eyes of the only dragon in the world looked like. They were like a starry night sky. Deep and polished. It was part of what made people love it quickly. There had been so much mysticism about it.
Now the cuteness was gone. And with its size, the eyes that had once held enthralling mysticism now looked arrogant and dangerous.
“Ow!” Ark hissed suddenly.
Melmarc raised his head and found Ark clutching his hand in suppressed pain. He ignored his phone immediately, and rushed to him.
Ark was back to standing again. “Arsehole bit me again!”
Melmarc stood in front of his brother, staring down at the wounded hand. There was blood. A lot of it. Enough for a few drops to hit the grass.
“We need to get that wrapped up,” he said, patting his pockets for his hand towel. He didn’t find it and he remembered why. “Shit, I think I left it in my bag.”
“It’s fine.” Ark waved his worry away. “It just bleeds for a few second then stops.”
Melmarc paused, confused. “It just bleeds for a few seconds then stops?”
Right on cue, the flow slowed, then stopped. What remained was still enough to continue dripping, though.
Ark raised his hand on display. “See? Not even a scratch.”
Melmarc’s jaw dropped. He grabbed his brother’s hand and peered closer. “What the hell?!”
Ark was grinning. “Told you.”
“It’s got healing properties?” Melmarc pressed. “That’s… that’s…”
“Cool. I know.”
Ark removed his hand from Melmarc’s, slipped his other hand into his back pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief.
He wiped the blood from his hand with it. "Got to get at it while its still fresh or it'll be annoying to get off."
Melmarc stared at the handkerchief. It was red with a few spots of white peeking out. “Was that supposed to be white?”
Ark snorted as he cleaned off the last of the blood on his hand.
“This ol’ thing?" he said. There was something in his voice. Worry perhaps. "I can’t say I even remember. Maybe it was red.”
Melmarc narrowed his eyes at him. “Again.”
Ark looked at him, puzzled. “Again?”
“‘Asshole bit me, again.’ That’s what you said.”
“Oh.”
Ark refused to make eye contact, and moved the handkerchief behind him.
“How many times has it bitten you, Ark?”
he shrugged. “Not many.”
Melmarc sighed. He stepped away from his brother and rubbed his forehead in frustration. When he was done, he gave Ark a pointed look.
“How many times is ‘not many’?”
“Four?”
“How the hell do you get bitten four times between when you got home, and now?” he hissed.
“Well… it’s actually four times… today.”
“You’ve had that—” Melmarc cut himself off at the level of his voice and looked at the back door leading back into the house.
He didn’t see their sister or anyone watching so he looked at the windows upstairs. Those were empty, too. His voice hadn’t drawn any attention so he turned back to Ark and did his best to keep his voice calm.
“You’ve had this thing the whole day?”
Ark nodded. “I found it at the back of school. The abandoned building that the principal keeps saying is going to be repurposed for one thing or the other.”
“The school is expanding,” Melmarc said. “They’re looking to have more classrooms. Wait, why were you at the back of the old abandoned building? Your class is on the other side of the school.”
Ark waved the question aside with a vague gesture. “Long story. Bottom line, I got a dragon.”
“Jury’s still out on that one.” Melmarc took a deep breath. “So how do you plan on keeping this a secret? If you bring it in the house, everyone will know. And you can’t keep it out here in that box. Because that’s just… Well that’s just cruel to your pet. And mom’ll find out quickly.”
“Who said anything about keeping it a secret?”
“I thought that was the plan.”
Ark stared at him as if that was the dumbest idea he’d heard all day. Oddly enough, the creature stared up at Melmarc, and he could’ve sworn its black starry eyes were given him the same look.
Ark looked down at the creature, and it looked up at him. Melmarc could’ve sworn they share a look before looking back at him.
“What gave you the idea that Nologia was a secret?”
“First, we’re not calling it Nologia.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not naming it after your favorite anime dragon. Second, you refused to tell anyone about it. And I know uncle D asked. You only told me.”
“That’s because I wanted to show you first.” Ark chuckled. “I can’t hide a dragon in our mom’s garden, Mel. That’s just impossible.”
“Fair enough. Then how are we doing this?”
Ark bent over the creature, unfazed even though it had just bitten him mere moments ago, and picked it up from under its front limbs like a baby.
It went with him quietly, staring at him with an expression that would’ve been confusion on a human’s face. But Melmarc knew better than to trust his ability to interpret the animal’s expression.
“Into the box you go,” Ark cooed in a baby-ish voice as he dropped it back in the box. With that done he turned to Melmarc. “Help me with that hoodie please.”
Melmarc walked over to the grey hoodie and picked it up. It smelled citrus-y and stung the nose. But it was a nice smell.
Freda did always smell nice
He handed it over to Ark and found him holding up the box.
Ark took the hoodie from him, balancing the box on one hand as he did. Holding the hoodie, he offered Melmarc the box.
Melmarc hesitated before taking it. “You sure I should be the one carrying it? It’s your pet, after all.”
“Ha!” Ark laughed. “I think you’re missing something there, little Mel. It’s our familiar now.”
With that, he wrapped the hoodie carelessly around the hand that had been bitten to hide whatever remaining blood stain there was and moved towards the house.
Melmarc held up the box and found it heavier than he’d expected. From the uncovered top he could see the animal. It had curled itself back up the way it had been when he’d first seen it, eyes closed and breathing steady.
Maybe it was a dragon, just a different kind.
He turned and followed Ark.
Ark stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “If Ninra asks what’s in the box, say its nothing.”
“I thought you didn’t want to keep it a secret.”
Ark grinned. “I don’t. But it’s going to drive her crazy not knowing. And that’s going to be a lot of fun.”
Melmarc didn’t even need to think about it. He and Ark had different definitions of fun. He read novels and Ark read comics. He played basketball and Ark played every other sport. He was friendly with Ninra every time she was home from college and Ark liked to drive her crazy.
It was simply the dynamic.
His only response to his brother’s words was a shrug. As they went in, he didn’t deny the fact that he did enjoy seeing Ark drive Ninra crazy sometimes.
…………………
When they entered the house, the kitchen was empty. At some point Ninra must’ve gone inside.
The look of dismay on Ark’s face showed Melmarc that he’d really been looking forward to messing with her.
There was a covered pot on the gas, and the light of the fire was gone. The lid was see-through and Melmarc caught the sight of reddish pasta inside.
Was she going to leave the pot out until dinner?
Their mom usually timed the cooking so that the food was ready around thirty minutes before dinner. Sometimes she would miss the mark and serve their plates when it was ready and still very hot. There were also odd occasions when she allowed them serve themselves.
When uncle Dorthna was the only adult in the house, lunch and dinner were take-out. He would always buy more than enough for dinner so that it served as breakfast the next day. He wasn’t incompetent, he just really liked take-outs.
Dad never cooked.
As they passed the living room, they found uncle Dorthna still lounging on the couch watching his show that just seemed to go on and on into the depths of more questionable dares.
As if their presence rang some kind of alarm, uncle Dorthna looked back at them. “What do you guys have inside the box?”
There was something in his tone Melmarc couldn’t place. His voice was calm and simple, normal, but there was an underlying note beneath it that he couldn’t place.
“We got a new pet,” Ark said cheerily.
“It’s not a snake,” Melmarc added hurriedly.
Ark looked from uncle Dorthna to Melmarc and back, then nodded. “Definitely not a snake. I learned my lesson last time. Scouts honor.”
“I seem to remember you refusing to join the scouts, Ark. Something about how they always like acting as if they’re better than everyone.” Dorthna rubbed his jaw in thought. “So what kind of pet is it?”
Melmarc’s eyes narrowed at their uncle.
There it was. Uncle Dorthna was faking ignorance, pretending. He remembered that tone. It was the one he always used when their parents made decisions they didn’t like and he pretended not to be aware of it.
It wasn’t exactly the same, those were usually more dramatic… and obvious. This one was dialed way down. If the tone was a fire cracker, today it was a snapping finger.
Ark looked at Melmarc, and Melmarc shrugged.
“You did say it wasn’t a secret,” he told his brother.
“Yeah.” Ark’s voice was a low murmur. “But it’s kind of hard now that he’s sitting right there.”
Ark put his hand inside the box and picked the creature up. When he revealed it, the look on Dorthna’s face tightened.
Ark held the creature up for Dorthna to see. “I got a pet dragon.”
Dorthna stared at it. Just stared. He didn’t react or say anything. Silence was his response. In it the television sounded a little too loud.
“Uncle D?” Melmarc called.
“Yes, Mel.”
“We got a pet dragon.”
Uncle Dorthna didn’t take his eyes off the creature. Its eyes were opened now and they stared at each other.
“Not a dragon,” he said finally, running a hand through his hair. “But you’ve definitely got something there.”
Ark deflated a little. “Any idea what it is?”
“Yes. But I must warn you, your mom might be happy and your dad will be worried when they see it.”
Melmarc winced. “That bad?”
Dorthna turned back to the television as if he’d suddenly lost interest. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Your mom’s just more open minded than your dad. And she’s always wanted a Guardian. It just bummed her out when she found out that they’re nearly impossible to get.”
“Wait.” Ark put the creature back in the box. “You’re saying it’s possible that there might be another one of these out there.”
“Of course. You see it on t.v from time to time. Dragon-Knight always goes into portals with his Guardian.”
Ark smirked at Melmarc. “Told you it was a dragon.”
“Not a dragon,” Dorthna corrected, and Melmarc smirked back. “A Guardian. Big difference.”
“But you just said it’s a Guardian, like Dragon-Knight’s.”
“Like Dragon-Knight’s. Key word there is like, Ark.” Dorthna ran his hand through his hair again.
He’s worried, Melmarc realized.
Dorthna always ran his hand through his hair when he was in a bind or was worried. It was one of his nervous ticks.
“Whatever it is,” Dorthna said, “I’d advise showing your mom first and getting her on your side if you want to keep it. If your dad sees it first, you might not get to keep it. He’ll probably have it going face first into the next portal that turns up.”
“If it’s a Guardian, but not a dragon,” Melmarc said, readjusting his hold under the weight of the box, “that will mean that Guardians are like an entire species, and a dragon is like one race.”
Dorthna raised a thumbs up and Melmarc continued.
“Which means this is another race.”
Dorthna’s thumbs up went higher and Melmarc’s lips pursed in thought. Ark looked between him and their uncle.
Melmarc thought about it.
The fact that he didn’t know much about guardians was a problem here. In fact, he knew different things about the different creatures that had ever made their way out of portals or had been captured on camera by the Gifted that worked for news and entertainment agencies, risking their lives to get live footage of Delvers doing their work during Chaos Runs.
But this was the first time he was ever hearing the term Guardian being used.
Accepting that he wouldn’t be able to figure out what the creature might be, he gave a defeated shrug. “So what is it?”
Dorthna ignored his show to look at them once more and gave an honest smile. Melmarc didn’t like how impish it looked.
“Now where’s the fun in telling you?”
“That doesn’t sound fair,” Melmarc complained. “There’s only one other kind in the public eye and we didn’t even know it was called a Guardian until you just said it.”
“Yea,” Ark supported. “It’s going to be impossible to find out what it is.”
Ark gave a thoughtful pause and Melmarc had a feeling he wouldn’t like it.
Ark grinned. “Unless…”
“No!” Melmarc hissed.
Ark chuckled. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”
“I don’t have to. I heard your mind working, and I know it’s not going to be a good idea.”
“C’mon, Mel. The least you can do is hear me out.”
“He does have a point,” Dorthna said,without looking away from his show. “The least you could do is hear him out.”
Melmarc looked between the both of them. Uncle Dorthna was watching his show and Ark was smiling expectantly.
“Alright. What’s your idea?”
“I say we ask Dragon-Knight.”
Dorthna burst into laughter on the couch. It was loud and heavy. A full belly laugh. He held his side and rolled off the couch for dramatic effect.
“Mel was right,” he said, still laughing. “You’ve got the wildest ideas. And I love it.”
It took a little time before Dorthna was done laughing. While they waited for their uncle, Ark held onto his grin, and his idea. Though, his grin was more on the sheepish side now.
Dorthna picked himself up and sat back down on the couch. His laugh had become a chuckle and he wiped a tear from the edge of one eye with a single finger. “It’s times like this that I wish I had a brother… or a sister.”
Melmarc and Ark paused.
This was a rare occurrence.
Uncle Dorthna was fun, and they wouldn’t give anything to change him. But he never talked much about himself, at least not on the things that mattered. This was the first time he was hinting at anything relating to an actual family situation.
They called him uncle, but the position wasn’t biological. He was more of a family friend that had been present since before they were born.
But he would always be their uncle.
“Alright,” Dorthna said, ignoring his show once more. “How about a little motivation?”
Ark nodded vibrantly, and Melmarc couldn’t deny he was curious. Dorthna didn’t toss out motivations willy-nilly, and the little he did toss out were usually good. There was that one time he’d given Ark an entire hundred-dollar bill when he’d figured out how to pick a lock on his own.
Or when he told me the name of his favorite skills after making me learn the names of the two rarest classes.
Or when he taught Ark how to jump a fence quickly and quietly for getting the highest grade in his English class.
Now that he thought about it, since they’d known uncle Dorthna he hadn’t motivated them with anything more than six rewards, combined. And most of what he motivated Ark with were criminally inclined. Even some of the achievements Ark had to make.
Picking a lock. Jumping a fence. Conning a guy into buying a two-dollar pen for four dollars. That last one could be misconstrued for a sales skill, though.
Melmarc was pulled from his thoughts by Ark’s next words.
“And what are the conditions for this?”
“First, no asking Dragon-Knight. She's not a bad guy, but she’s more than likely to feed you to her guardian than give you information about anything relating to it.” Dorthna turned his head up and his face scrunched up in thought. “She’ll probably try to buy it off you, too. And knowing her, it’ll probably be for a good price. Anyway, leave Dragon-Knight out of this. Chances are you’ll never get to meet her, so no real worry there.”
“Dad could get us to meet her,” Ark objected.
“No, he won’t.”
Dorthna’s words allowed no argument. It was flat and final.
“But,” he continued. “The chances of getting killed by a baby aren’t high, but they are not zero. So, if you do ever run into Dragon-Knight, against all odds, don’t bring up anything about a Guardian. Trust me, it’s safer for everybody. As for your motivation, how about this. If you do manage to figure out what it is.” He raised a cautionary finger. “Without asking your mom and dad. I’ll tell you what I do with all the trash you keep giving me.”
“And why you keep collecting them,” Melmarc added quickly.
Dorthna smiled fondly. “And why I keep collecting them.”
Ark shrugged. “I’m not really that interested.”
“Well I am,” Melmarc interjected, then adjusted his hold on the box. Was it just him or was the box getting heavier?
He looked down at the creature and found it still curled up with its eyes closed.
“So what do you say?”
Melmarc looked up at his uncle and smiled. “Deal.”
“Good.” Dorthna returned his attention to his show.
Melmarc looked back at the creature, thought about what it could be, did a few mental historical, mythical math in his head.
They only knew of one Guardian, which was a dragon. And from the way Dorthna spoke about Dragon-Knight’s possible reaction to being asked about Guardians, it was safe to say they were very rare. It was the only way that justified why Dragon-Knight wouldn’t want people asking questions about them.
Then there was the second option. A dragon was a mythical creature. Rare and impossible as it was, it wasn’t the only mythical creature existent in myths. There were centaurs, minotaur, krakens. And this was only to name a few.
Clearly, he could eliminate a lot of the options.
“It can’t be a kraken,” he muttered to himself. “Krakens belong in the water.”
And it couldn’t be a Loch ness monster because… well, simply because. The Loch ness monster, for certain reasons, just never felt mythical to him. It was just too urban for him to consider it mythical. It was like big foot or a jabberwocky.
He looked down at it again. It had scales but wasn’t serpentine enough to be a basilisk. He hated to admit it but the closest mythical creature he knew it looked like was a dragon.
Using that as an answer didn’t sit well with him. A relative of a dragon maybe? A guivre wouldn’t work since they were more serpent than dragon. Wyrms came next but they were also just as serpentine as guivres were meant to be.
That left only one option, and he gave it even though he doubted the answer.
“It’s a drake.”
