“Erad? Herald of change? The glorious silver lion?”

The carriage, now packed with provisions, was being pulled gently by Bramaboxa and Dulcicloxia, on whose backs Thyme and Spyce were riding, half asleep. It was almost midday, and some hours had passed since their departure. They left Cranesworth at the crack of dawn, as the trip to Gargenta would be long, and even if they weren’t too much in a hurry, Lazar really wanted to see his grandchildren as soon as possible. His child… A little bit less so. This one really left the tradition of the family to look for something completely different. Lazar took a bit of the blame on this. The rest, he gave to him.

“The man - well, the lion - themself.” he replied to the brown ox. He was recounting the day of his birthday, well, three days ago now, but that seemed so far away, thinking back at the past days they had to live through. It was nice, being back on the adventurous side of the world. He just wished there weren’t so many man eating beasts, and that his right knee stopped hurting for a Numens fucking second.

“Oh we know them. They are… something… some sort of… a colleague? Yes, that. I can’t talk about it though.” said Dulci, always more helpful than his twin.

“I can.” cut in Brama “They think they're better just because they are older.”

“By two eons”

“That's like, ten of these mortal years in proportion!”

“That’s still a lot of years for mortals, brother.”

“So they’re like…” Liliane took a breath from the pipe she was smoking. It was weird seeing her come back to the habit, but these had been… Extenuating circumstances. Lazar took a puff from his one, too. The taste of Ratchpeki leaf bit his tongue. Still sour as he recalled. “Your senior, right?” she concluded.

“Something like that,yes.” answered Dulci.

“And it seems like you don’t really like them, right?”

“They’re a bit uppity. I don’t know. They give me weird vibes. Never showed up for pizza night.”

“Yes, they were always a bit anti-social, but in a ‘Uh, I'm better than you lot’ way. And why choose a lion?”

“What do you mean, chose?” “What have you got against lions?” said the two elders, almost in unison.

“Does not matter, doesn’t concern you, you wouldn’t understand.” stated Dulci. It sounded weirdly… tired. Like he answered the same question in the same way an uncountable number of times before. Still. Lions. They are just cats. But bigger, right?. And they Chose it as their perceived form! I’d have understood a river. Even a pretty oak. Or a king size bed. But a mortal beast? That’s just… I don’t know…”

“Weird, the word you are searching for is weird,” said Brama. “Who in the night would choose a lion as a mythic representation of divinity and one’s self? What does he think, that they’re the chief Numen of a children’s book?”

“Or a wardrobe.” said the black ox, spacing out a bit “They could have been a wardrobe. Wardrobes are nice”

“Our grandfather - well, the closest thing we have to that - was a wardrobe. He was called Pax/Hasvid” said Brama.

Lazar guffawed, as if he heard the best joke ever.

“Pax Hasvid?” he asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

“Pax slash Hasvid. The slash is not silent” Dulci explained.

“Someone had a nice sense of humor” the old man said, through the laughs.

“Nope. What do you even mean?” said Liliane “That’s a perfectly nice name to have.”

“Do you-” he could not stop laughing, and he asked the oxen again “do you have a relative called Sandsberg?”

“Are you a seer? Do you have a pact with a knowledge spirit?” Brama looked weirded out by Lazar’s words. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess, really”. The old man took another breath from his pipe. He tried to imagine what kind of face the oxen were making, since he could not see them clearly from the driver’s seat of the carriage.

“Forgive him”, said Liliane, pinching her husband on the arm “he’s just really weird”

“And tell me”, continued the man “are they a table, perchance?”

“No they are not!” Brama seemed furious he had even suggested such a thing. “What the hell are you implying?!”

“Nothing, nothing.” he waved his hands. “What are they, then?”

“A table with a desk function.” Lazar started laughing loudly again. Liliane was glaring at him, but he seemed unconcerned. Dulci spoke, a heaviness in its voice. “They’re two very different things, Lazar. A simple table is an object, a construct. It does and will not ever have a will, a soul, a spirit. It’s very racist to say something like that. You’ve been very rude.”

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Lazar immediately stopped laughing, and got very serious all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean anything by my utterances. The names just reminded me of something I remember hearing about. Forgive the words of an old man, oh daemons. They meant nothing, and I’m sorry of having been so… superficial.”

“No harm done. You couldn’t have known of this. It’s something that’s rarely spoken about, since you mortals can’t see us at all unless we incarnate or possess something or someone.”

Lazar went silent for a while. He looked around. The road was long, and passed next to the mountain where they got the stone. It seemed even weirder from here.

“So, how did I manage to see Erad?”

“He probably showed you a vision.” said the brown ox. “You said that all went still before he appeared, right? He probably charmed you and then talked to you using an illusion. Your senses are very easy to fool.”

“Ok, let’s get back to the story. He told me I have to… ugh… he told me I have to slay the Numens so that the next one can take their place.”

“Oh, that is customary.” Dulci seemed happy to talk about this, somehow. “The cycle, the cycle is never ending but it must be renewed by someone. The new spark can’t make fire on spent tinder. Have no fear, the new ones will be good. They always are.”

“Then, why the nights?” Lazar asked, curious.

“We aren’t allowed to talk about them”

“We’re bound to secrecy.”

“We’ll die as mortals if we tell you”

The oxen seemed scared of even mentioning something about the subject. The old man relented.

“Ok, ok, I understand. Big secret. But, well, if the prophecy was meant for me when I was ten, what happens now?”

“You are too stuck on the prophecy thing” said Liliane, “I told you. They probably misremembered.”

“They probably did. Maybe it was meant for someone else entirely…”

“I doubt it. No one else has a progenitor that went by the name of Nothing.”

“Maybe they got the time frame wrong?”

Brama and Dulci, still walking, were whispering among themselves.

“Do you think future preview and weather had a part in this?”

“It all went to shit when they started merging offices”

“The new administration sucks”

“I’m almost happy I’m an ox and don’t have to deal with that thunderous asshole”

“Almost.”

“I still have to eat food. Ehw. That is so inefficient."

“I find it endearing”

“Ehm, ehm” said Lazar, “we were talking about something.”

“Yes, sorry, well, did he give you something?” Brama was very interested in this. He knew that sometimes heroes got really nice stuff. “They usually give the chosen hero a weapon or an object of power to help them in their quests.”

“They did. They gave me the legendary lance of undoings. It seems a bit overkill, but well…”

“Hey Dulci,” whispered Brama “wasn’t that sealed away and decided that it would rest till the end of times because it was too dangerous and could rip apart the fabric of reality if misused?”

“Indeed it is.”

“What is it?” asked Lazar to the two confabulating oxen.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Bramaboxa made a sort of smile. “Have you already used it?”

“No, actually. I tend to forget stuff lately, and a new object like that… So encumbering… I did not touch it and still did not try to use it, no.”

“I think it’s best to reserve its power for the big stuff.” Dulci stated, a hint of relief on its voice “I don’t believe they left you the lance to deal with the chaff. Maybe they’ll think to get it back if you misuse it.”

“I’ll trust you on this one. After all, I don’t believe I need it right now. I’m good at what I do. We both are.”

He took Liliane’s hand, and she smiled. She then gave him a big kiss on the tip of the nose. “I’m happy you still hold me in such consideration.”

“You could whoop my ass and make yourself tea at the same time. I know you’re still at the top of your game”

“You would, too, if you did not start selling your soul to the written word.”

“My books are like children to me!”

“So they don’t sell because they don’t like talking to you, like your actual ones?”

“Blah blah blah, bad father. They don’t come to see you as well.”

“Yes, because I was harsh with them as my mother was with me. Made me the woman I am today.”

They both went silent after this exchange. Liliane started fidgeting with the pipe. Lazar looked up, at a passing cloud in the otherwise clear sky. Then, he spoke.

“Ok. Sorry. Let’s stop this, we’re sleepy, we’re tired, if we were home we would have just gotten up. Sorry for being so grumpy.”

“Sorry for being so blunt, dear. Sometimes I get ahead of myself.”

“All is forgiven, Lili. Don’t worry. I know you did not mean it. Brama, Dulci, thank you for listening to my story. Still. Are you still willing to pull our carriage in such a… probably perilous quest?”

“Absolutely!” bellowed Brama, huffing and mooing “I want to see their faces when we tell them we’ve been the hero's companions when we get back from this fleshy prison.”

“And I’m just happy to be around my brother. And around these two little balls of fur, here.”

Thyme and Spyce were still sleeping. They yawned and readjusted themselves to get more comfortable while riding. Their little snout moved a bit. They seemed to be sleeping.

The cart continued its journey for a long while, in silence. Lazar went back inside the carriage, and went back to his manuscript, managing to write a full page without much issues. He seemed more relaxed, after the long story and the earlier outburst. Liliane, instead, was outside, on the driver’s seat, and had taken out a piece of wood, which she carved in a strange shape.

The trip seemed to be going great, and, after twilight, they finally decided to stop in a clearing near the road.The two elders got down from the carriage, and walked a bit to scout the surroundings, leaving Brama and Dulci alone.

“If we play our cards right, brother,” said the black ox to its twin, “we could even go back home earlier than we thought…”