Chapter 23

“Master!” Kryll came running into the room with a large paper bag in his hand. “What's —,” at the sight of the little fox cub, he stopped abruptly and stared at it.

Food? The vixen looked questioningly at Lord Mitten after looking at Kryll.

The human? No, he's mine, he replied resolutely. Monster cubs needed clear boundaries, otherwise they would get up to mischief. They ate what they shouldn't eat and destroyed what didn't belong to them. Their animal instincts were strong at the beginning. Only with time did the mind develop sufficiently to put a stop to them. And until then, it was up to the adults to guide them.

“Eh, hello?” Kryll greeted the fox cub.

Where food? Blue eyes continued to stare expectantly at Lord Mitten.

“I see you were successful, Kryll,” he greeted his underling.

“Our visitor here is very hungry. I would therefore like to ask you to prepare the meal first before we clarify any further questions,” said Lord Mitten, who had noticed that he was unable to introduce the two of them to each other. He had forgotten to ask for the young vixen's name.

“The little one can have my portion,” he added as he watched Kryll glance in the direction of the fox cub, seeming to be preoccupied again.

From the looks of it, he had correctly guessed what the young man was thinking about. After his hint, Kryll set about emptying the bag and getting two plates of food ready.

Meanwhile, Lord Mitten caught up on what he had forgotten in all the hustle and bustle of the last few days.

What is your name, little one?

The fox cub looked from the corner of her eye at the large pile of meat becoming visible.

Myrim, she replied after regretfully averting her eyes from the meat to look at him again.

Good. Her mother seemed to have taught her enough manners.

Lord Mitten paused.

Myrim?

That was a surprisingly short and almost too common name for an Arctic Fox. Had customs changed in the last few centuries? If that was indeed the case, it would be a welcome change, he decided. Who had time to memorize such complicated names?

The fox girl nodded.

A-And when mom is angry, my name is “My Roar Is Mighty”.

Ah.

Lord Mitten's whiskers twitched.

There it was. The typical name. Pompous and long-winded, as it continued to be custom, apparently.

He sighed inwardly.

At least the foxes had come up with something to simplify everyday communication. He would be grateful for even small improvements.

In the meantime, Kryll had placed a plate full of venison on the ground in front of the vixen, who was now staring at it greedily. With the second in his hand, he made himself comfortable on the floor next to Lord Mitten.

“Enjoy your meal,” Lord Mitten said to his companions, who seemed to be waiting for an official starting signal. They immediately set about the food on their plates and devoured it with great appetite. For the next few minutes, he was surrounded by gleeful smacking - surprisingly from both sides. He hadn't thought the fox cub had any table manners, but he had thought Kryll did. Wrongly, as he now realized.

What do humans actually learn at school these days? Lord Mitten asked himself as he listened to the disturbing noises coming from his two-legged underling.

Obviously not how to behave.

Where was the appreciation of the dish? Where the mindful enjoyment of the prepared food? He wrinkled his nose and looked at Kryll disapprovingly.

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Kryll seemed to notice his master's gaze. He raised his head and looked at him with a questioning look and a stuffed mouth. Red stains around his mouth betrayed the color of the pasta sauce.

“Ya Mshd?”

Lord Mitten shook his head disapprovingly.

“Food lesson number one, Kryll. We don't talk with food in our mouth.”

Kryll obediently swallowed before starting a second time.

“Yes, master?”

“Food lesson number two, Kryll. The food stays in our mouth.”

His subordinate looked at him questioningly. Lord Mitten tapped his chin with one paw and then looked demonstratively at Kryll's.

“Ah.” Kryll ran his tongue around his mouth and then - to be on the safe side - wiped his face again with his forearm.

Lord Mitten sighed at the sight.

“Lesson number three, Kryll. Arms are there to be licked clean. Not to clean your face with them.”

Kryll looked at him questioningly.

“Didn't anyone teach you how to behave while eating?” Lord Mitten finally asked.

Kryll's face flushed. “Yes, they did. I just thought it was only important to moms.”

“You thought it was only important to moms,” Lord Mitten said, wrinkling his nose again.

“I will tell you something Kryll. Eating manners distinguish the rational being from the animal. And whether you get anywhere in life is decided at the dinner table.” Lord Mitten paused and looked at the young vixen, who continued to bury her head in the mound of meat, oblivious to the little lesson. “Cubs excluded, of course.”

“Therefore, and since I lose my appetite otherwise, I would ask you to remember your manners in the future.”

Kryll nodded his head and vowed to do better. Suddenly he paused, a question seemed to take up space in his head and give him a headache.

“Yes?” Lord Mitten encouraged his underling. He had never seen a creature so obviously unsuited to espionage as this young man.

“Master, am I supposed to memorize all your lessons?”

Lord Mitten looked at his subordinate in silence until he became restless and ran his hand nervously through his hair.

“Yes, Kryll. You are supposed to memorize them all. And if you find it hard to remember them —,” he took a notebook and pen from his pocket dimension and dropped them on the floor in front of Kryll, ”then take notes.”

He paused.

“You can write, can't you?” he finally asked the boy who looked surprised by the sudden appearance of the writing utensils. A worry that the education system had been neglected over the last hundred years spread through him. Stupid people made stupid decisions. And stupid decisions had given him a lot of work over the last few millennia.

“Of course!” Kryll replied, slightly indignant.

Fortunately. Lord Mitten exhaled with relief. One less thing to worry about.

“Well, then - what are you waiting for! For the dragons to plan the next uprising?” Kryll hastily reached for his pen and book, the still half-full plate of noodles forgotten beside him.

Lord Mitten began to clean his paw extensively.

“Do you have any idea what some people would do to taste my wisdom?” he finally asked. “And you, a youngster from a village, is asking me if you should memorize my gems of lessons.” Lord Mitten shook his head in disbelief. What was wrong with the youth of today?

Kryll, who seemed to regret his mistake, nodded his head diligently and hurriedly wrote in the notebook.

In the meantime, the fox cub had finished its plate and began to preen itself contentedly on its pillow.

The room was bathed in golden light from the setting sun. They would need candles soon, Lord Mitten thought, for whom the darkness was no problem. Unlike his subordinate.

I should still have —,

“GREETINGS TO THE MIGHTY LORD OF THIS HOUSE!" suddenly a voice rang out from the entrance.

We need a door lock, Lord Mitten realized as the uninvited guest approached them with rumbling steps.

“EXCUSE MY INTRUSION BUT I'M JUST TOO CURIOUS. WHERE DID YOU —,” the huge man with a full beard who filled the entire doorway paused,

“HUH?”

The human mountain of muscle let his eyes wander over those present, he seemed to be looking for something or someone.

In my house. Without permission. Lord Mitten's tail whipped from left to right, his pupils narrowing to black slits at the sight of the uninvited guest.

Kryll seemed to sense the impending danger for the unsuspecting visitor. He hastily stood up and placed himself between Lord Mitten and the giant, his hands on his hips.

“Who are you and what are you doing here!? This house belongs to my master and he doesn't like having uninvited visitors!”

Ah Kryll, thought Lord Mitten, who, having momentarily lost sight of the goal of anonymity, had calmed down again. As ignorant as you are in everyday matters, you show yourself to be far-sighted when it counts.

At the sight of the lanky boy standing in the way of the muscle-bound visitor, a warm feeling spread through Lord Mitten.

How cute, he thought and focused his magical powers on the young man. Should the stranger attack, they would get him to safety faster than a thought could form. Then they would pour over the visitor as a powerful vengeful being and render him harmless.

His whiskers twitched at the thought.

Destroy him. Destroy him, it whispered inside Lord Mitten. Old voices that stemmed from his instincts and came to him from time to time. He knew how to ignore them and banished them from his consciousness.

The giant looked down at Kryll.

“SO your master isn't in the house right now?” he asked, glancing at Myrim.

“And he leaves his Arctic Fox here alone with you? BRAVE!”

Lord Mitten's energy vibrated within him.

The stranger grinned at Kryll. “HAH! I like brave people!”

He scratched his beard before continuing. “HMH! Then convey my apologies to your master for my unannounced appearance and inform him that I - TRONT BATTLEAXE - will be back!”

“Why?” Kryll asked after a moment's hesitation.

Exactly. Why? Lord Mitten also asked himself.

“Because of the —,” Tront leaned down to Kryll and whispered to him, ”gold.”