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Ibrahim and The Magicians' Rebellion
Making Friends and Memories (7)

Making Friends and Memories (7)

She stumbled into the sanctuary, leaning her head back to capture the majesty of this enemy. Her arms slouched and her sword and shield dangled from her hands. The monster reeled back.

Ibrahim’s voice echoed, “What’s wrong? Tired after just one move? I thought you were going to slay me?”

Cheryl gazed up. She had absolutely no idea how to handle this challenge. She considered surrendering. She never asked for all this craziness in the first place. As usual, it’s Ibrahim and his shenanigans that had led to this.

Wino’s voice cried out, “Ibrahim!”

The dragon angled towards the cage. Inside the dangling prison, a fair maiden with ivory skin clung to the bars. She wore white gloves that veiled her elbows, a multicolored floral dress, and a glittering diamond tiara. Her black hair ran alongside her arm, down to her elbow. This maiden gripped the bars of the cell and threw her head out.

“How come I have to be the princess?” she complained in Wino’s voice.

The dragon’s head morphed back into that of Ibrahim’s as he responded, “I like you better that way. It suits you.”

The knight proclaiming, “Wino, is that you?”

Wino glared at Ibrahim as the dragon’s head reformed.

“Don’t worry,” Wino responded. “I’m fine. It's just a ga—”

“Don’t worry, hun, I’ll save you!”

Wino watched with speechless amusement. His mouth hung open as Cheryl took charge of her role. Her grip bent the paper roll she pointed at Ibrahim. Ibrahim now stood upon the living room couch. A threatening foe, his claws hung by his face as he marched towards her. She held firm.

Nothing ignited Cheryl’s spirit like protecting the defenseless. She’s a nurturer at heart and could not stand unsightly wickedness. It rang unsavory memories of magician’s rule into her mind. Although a game, the less privileged Wino made her heart skip a beat and provoked her to action. Wino sat at the table. He watched curiously as the two plunged deeper within the confines of their conjoined imagination.

Ibrahim rattled Princess Wino’s cage. Cheryl inched forward, vigilant for signs of distress. Out swung one of Princess Wino’s gloves – it danced in the sanctuary breeze like a falling leaf in the wind. It twisted and twirled until it landed upon Cheryl’s blade. The power from the rare material used to forge Wino’s gloves reacted with Cheryl’s character.

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A gleam of light poured out from the crevices of the knight. The abrupt dispersal of sunrays blinded the dragon and princess. It subsequently faded to reveal the exquisite brilliance of Cheryl’s transformation: a surge of blazing heat that erupted from the steel of the knight’s sword, a dazzling cross of gold carved across the face of her shield and a majestic cape. For but a moment, Wino and Ibrahim shared an astounded glance. They wondered, Is she really getting into this, though?

"Hang tight, honey!" The knight lunged at the scaly beast.

Once again, she leapt, although this time she torpedoed directly for the eye of the monster. It swerved to avoid her, but failed to anticipate her rebounding off the wall. She took aim and inflicted a critical strike. With her momentum, the knight continued her assault. She rebounded off the walls like The General’s super-soldier.

Cheryl leapt off the couch towards Ibrahim. Ibrahim hopped around the room, Cheryl closely tailing him. The two engaged in life-or-death combat as Wino quietly took in the sight. He avoided them, wide-eyed from his central reference point.

The beast palmed Cheryl’s knight to the sanctuary floor. Restrained beneath its nails, Ibrahim engorged his mouth with another potential outpour of sizzling gas and fire. This time, however, he restrained himself. Flames leaked from his cheeks. Their colors shifted along a gradient from burnt orange to sky blue, from sky blue to royal purple. Cheryl managed to slice his dragon’s finger with her paper towel roll so that she could roll back. Ibrahim sprayed fire like the pressurized hose of a firefighter.

The inferno diverted into two halves, bisected by the rooted shield of Cheryl’s knight. The swordswoman withdrew her blade; the beast screeched and the two once again engaged each other.

Ibrahim and Cheryl clashed countless times throughout the evening. Their enthusiasm filled the room, motivating him to participate, but from a safe distance. He didn’t want to ruin their evening. Their battle spiraled into the night, fueled by the machinations of their childlike imaginations.

***

A few hours later, Wino emerged from his bedroom. The living room had been turned upside-down. Chairs scattered all over the place, paper towels draped over the carpet, cards scattered across the floor, and dice tumbled off the table. Cheryl curled on the floor, unconscious. Her fingers still clutched the paper towel roll. Ibrahim resumed his normal sleeping position; his fingers barely touched the unfolded flap of his cardboard box. Drool seeped from his cheek onto the carpet.

Wino crossed over Cheryl to unfold Ibrahim’s blanket atop his sleeping body. He also draped Cheryl with a thin sheet that she immediately snuggled into. Wino brought a pillow with him and slid it beneath Cheryl’s head. She adjusted herself while he lied down beside her.

In the quiet of the evening, Wino wondered, Caves and Castles, huh? I’d never have thought of it, but look at how things turned out. If I can get these two to play with each other like this ever again – maybe they can even learn to be friends. This was nice.

The trio fell asleep and the room went quiet.

The End

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