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“...And that’s what happened.” Navy said, closing out the shared story.

“Five out of ten.” the darkness boy said, “Needed more action.”

“She did what...?” Misty said sleepily..

“Heh, mine was better,” Everyone turns over to look at Flame as he sits next to Rumble with his arms crossed. He smirks, and pantomimes rubbing dirt off his shoulder.

He puffs, making himself look like he’s bigger, then begins to try and take the attention away from Navy and Rhodney’s story.

As he begins to write his own blessing fanfiction, Shoji shuts him down. This was a disease. Staring at the lessers, he narrows his eyes and looks at the two lying children.

The two had been barely damaged, and despite some scratches from their jet ride, looked completely undamaged.

They had created some kind of pile. Laying in a nest of limbs on top of each other. It looked uncomfortable to the oni, but he guessed that old sleeping habits died hard, even out here.

The ones telling the story laid against their two sleeping companions like they were rocks to prop their backs against. Shoji watched Navy struggle to keep his eyes open, and he could tell that the Misty girl was almost completely out.

She seemed less interested in this fanfiction than him.

Hmph. At least she has taste.

The campsite was quiet. The fire crackled, and bowls of soup had been passed around. The lessers and the dud recounted their events, hopping in at moments as they watched on.

The tiny horned imp, ‘Navy,’ had recounted the event with a soldier's energy. He gave everything by the book, and slipped into a strange habit of putting his hands behind his back as he talked, only really taking them back to eat from the bowl he kept putting to the side.

The lesser had a good head on his shoulders. He hit words with specific levels of emphasis that kept their attention on him.

Shoji had barely wanted to keep listening, but Navy was the main reason he did. The boy’s voice didn’t seem like one of a liar. He genuinely reported the situation like they could’ve been in trouble. But as the boy got more into it, his credibility fell away like water.

A chimera scarecrow? A tier five?? Shoji’s eye’s narrowed as he looked at the boy.

The crackles of the fire seemed a little louder as the camp sat in silence.

“Ridiculous,” He said, “Navy” was clearly trying to impress someone above his station. He had created this plan and attempted to trick Shoji with odd stories of danger.

But Shoji knew this forest.

He was a year old.

The idea that there were two chimera’s running around and Te Ol Tre had risen in the same night was absurd.

The tier five bit was the most insane point.

The fact the child used the tier system was a huge point of contention in Shoji’s mind.

Wisdom and stoicism. Intelligence and scheming.

Shoji could almost smile at how pathetic it was… if the boy didn’t seem to remind him of himself. “The lad’s not lying, Shoji,” Nike said, his guttural voice emphasizing his seriousness. “It truly did happen like that,”

“How does the boy know what tiers are?” Shoji looked to the children around him, ‘the ones that were conscious,’ “Did any of you inherit knowledge about tiers?”

The little imps looked around confused. Some thought about it and tried to dig into their minds for the info. But Shoji automatically knew that they didn’t have it.

“Things like Tiers and Classifications are a new invention, Nike. It hasn’t been around long enough for the child to know about things like that.”

“Aye,” Nike agreed, nodding his head. “Though the lad possesses a blessing of Knowledge, that could mean he knows a thing or two. And besides, I was there,” the minotaur laid out, unappreciating of the condescending implications behind the oni’s words.

He defended Navy vehemently, not even considering the ramifications of the boy knowing those words. He could’ve been a spy, he could’ve been possessed by some strange slime monster…

Or worse,

The boy could be an Irregular.

The fact that Nike didn’t say “I told the children,” meant the boy truly had just known that information.

Call him cautious, but he didn’t like the idea of a lesser knowing all of this info. Knowledge was dangerous, especially when it came to things like this. The boy might start trying to climb beyond his station if he had the wrong celestial worm its way in his head.

And Shoji might have to…

He shook his head.

While some blessings can be the same, what flag the god was under and how potent the blessing was, made a big difference the longer someone progresses.

Shoji eyed the kid and sighed.

“The lad’s not lying, at least about the tier five. I watched Te Old Tre puff into sprinkles. The scarecrow though… I ‘ave no idea about that.``

Said scarecrow murmurs about how” it’s hungry too” as it catches them eating from their bowls. Just barely out of Shoji’s eyeline.

“And the boy did rise,” Nike said. He poked the mark on Rhondey’s chest, and the boy winced in pain from the fresh holy ink plastered against his chest.

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Rhodney’s eyes glowed a slightly creepy green as they met his. Lingering for a little too long and staring just over what was necessary.

Like he couldn’t believe he was seeing. Almost… laughing at some points? …No that couldn’t be it, maybe his face was just shaped oddly. What could be so funny about his appearance?

…

Shoji didn’t like him. But he got up with his bowl of soup. It slightly sloshed as he walked with nimble steps. Rhodney didn’t dare speak, looking up at the tall imp with a guarded look. His eyes got just a little brighter as the Oni got close to him.

All the children had moved like this near him, just due to the grotesque nature of his teleportation. He crouched down and looked at the boy’s chest and saw the engraving.

A black silhouette of a tree he’d never seen prior traced onto the boy’s skin. Shoji rubbed at it, not even asking the boy if he had permission.

“It’s not fake.” The boy said, answering Shoji’s thought.

“...”

Shoji rubbed it again just to be sure, and looking at his finger, saw no false ink. Just as Shoji was walking back, he heard the boy scream “Wait!”

He looked back. “Is there a way… to get it off?”

The fire crackled more in the dark, leaving Shoji to ponder the question. It was a question… most of the adults had never thought of.

Lesser Adventurer had only received titles. And even Shoji lacked a blessing to his name. The thought of getting one seemed so impressive that the idea of a lesser getting one before him was so alien to him.

But he did.

Not even as something he was born with, but as something that he’d been recognized for. Shoji couldn’t even argue if it happened due to the holy ink that was not there before.

Blessings past birth meant you did something. Whether good or bad, he was recognized by the sky.

He should’ve been excited. Why wasn’t he excited? What kind of question was that? Shoji looked at the boy, his left side illuminated by the warm, orange light of the giant, crackling fire behind him and said,

“...No,”

And turned around.

Knowing his friend and the adult lesser wouldn't correct him.

Because there was no way he was revealing that method to a child, even if he was a lesser. A man needed some kind of line.

Imp

The imp hadn’t ever received a name. He was no Tail– Sorry, “Rumble” or Warrior. He wasn’t the kind that had ever battled Flame for dominance or shown any exemplary traits. He was just a little bigger. He was just a little stronger.

He and the older boy with two affinities, two members of Flame's team, stumbled alone through the woods. They looked around scared as the woods looked back at them.

Each of the trees bending inward onto them as they looked up into the sky, and even though they were outside, they could feel something starting to set in. A… wrapped feeling.

A trapped feeling.

One could almost expect the two boys to thrash around like hares stuck in a hunter’s traps, with how the feeling of impending death bit like cold metal into their minds.

The two boys felt the forest’s leaves chuckle at their stumbles. Laugh in the twisting of trees when they had fallen over. The twin moons left giant spotlights on the two imps, and at this moment their betrayal had barely even registered.

If you were to zoom out, two twin fireballs could be seen. Bouncing along. Slowly. The children turned back at any small noise heard.

Trying to scare off any fierce monster in the cradle, the boy’s lacked the sheer number to be threatening. Their size was small and their fire was mere spices for any being that had experienced the forest for long enough.

They don’t know how long they were walking, or how long until the sun would rise….

…

…

…

Time passed,

The little one was limping.

He struggled to hold in his cries, as the bigger one walked ahead of him with regret in his eyes. The bigger one hasn't stopped for him as he had been stabbed by something neither of them had expected. He trodden forward, leaving him almost alone in the dark.

Only his almost dissipated flame kept him company as he shook warily, though soon he would run out of fuel. “Please… Please…” the boy begged quietly, limping along.

Come back, he couldn’t make it on his own he couldn’t. But the older boy barely sent him a glance. Deciding, or justifying, that it was a better idea for one of them to live.

Traitor, he thought.

But he was no better.

Flame was dead. Warrior was dead. Rumble was dead.

He’d run away and wasn’t worthy enough to receive a name. He was… He felt…

He was tempted to yell, but it would probably make the monsters hungrier.

He saw the boy leave him behind like he was bait, and with all his energy being poured into keeping his flame lit… the little boy started to shudder from exhaustion.

“Wait!!!”

He stumbled forward to chase after his disappearing companion, but fell into the mud. His flame went out, and he sat there on the ground.

The little boy was about to cry as he heard the growls from all around him. The sound of the non-sapients who had been plodding along, hungrily awaiting his fall like the vultures they were.

Everything ached. His mana veins were twitching with pain. His leg was pared down with gashes, causing him to wince every time he tried to get up.

The nameless imp’s throat was dry as he started to hyperventilate.

He was hungry.

The boy was thirsty.

And an hour–two hours? Passed as the boy continued to climb.

…

…

…

…

…

How long was he crawling? How long had he been moving? Why hadn’t they eaten him yet? The boy’s face was covered with dirt as he dragged his body along the soft, dirty forest floor. The forest only seemed to get louder, and he started to hear…

Heartbeats?

Loud concussive beats that only seemed to get louder as he crawled on faith alone. His bloody leg had started to heal, but the fact his companion hadn’t lit a second flame started to make him worried.

What’s going on?

After an hour, maybe two, he heard it, Water.

His crawl became feverish at the idea. And the motivation of the water did not disappoint when he made it to the location.

It was an awe-inspiring oasis of sanctity.

Two weeping willows waved him in.

Beautiful crystal-clear water created a moving wall of water that fed into a small pond. Mossy, giant rocks that towered over him sat in the pond like giant columns. The moss floated around the almost glowing blue river, giving it an old charm that the boy couldn’t place.

In a normal scenario, the boy would’ve been excited. He had found a place with water. A place of solace in this dark night. It would’ve been a place to hide out the storm… But he had to leave.

Why?

Because right at the side of the pond, lay the mangled corpse of his companion. Sprawled out and being hung like meat on a butcher's hook. His head slumped as he was suspended from the weeping willow. A long black tentacle.

It held the boy in place, and the concussions had reached a gleeful pounding.

And he saw it.

The creature, he saw it.

His own heart stopped as it saw it pulse with a dim red glow, In time with its body shaking beats.

A heart.

The Massive Inky heart that dripped with black ichor, that was currently feasting on his companion.