Before any business trip outside the city of Lazlo, Georgie Galmot would always prepare himself appropriately. Where adventurers loved the knowledge obtained via the journey, the young professional was a pragmatist who double-checked the fastest routes and safest berries to eat. Georgie would intensely read up on locations, fauna, weather, and sometimes systems of governments. He was once scammed into believing a gnome village used brass chips as currency and lost nearly everything in a fake exchange. The poor mark walked home for two days and got an ivy rash on both ankles. Never again would he make that mistake.
On every corner of the world and in the many patches between, danger and unpredictable nonsense was never a probability, but a certainty. This meant Georgie needed the best and exact inventory of elixirs to survive each trip with relative ease. Corv's Folly resided in a desert, so he needed his purifier tablets for local water. Stead vultures lived in the mountains, and the spider stride adhesive gave better odds of traversing. The other wildlife was just as fierce, so doze powder and manticore urine were a must. His bottles of instant frost were in case there was a need to escape, and creating a foreign terrain was perfect for impeding movement. However, Georgie knew that any of these practical choices could be uprooted by forces outside his control. The aforementioned unpredictable nonsense.
In cases like these, when the shop keep was out of options, he needed to bring one of his contingency concoctions. Potions brewed with a potency beyond that of his A graded products. Trade secret recipes, never to be shared with the public. For the trip to Corv's Folly, Georgie chose to bring along an infusion crafted to turn a lanky noncombatant like himself into a force of nature capable of rivaling monsters.
The Paladin was left completely awestruck at the impossible display in the sky. One by one, vulture corpses exploded against the sheer might of Georgie's scrambling boots. Clumsily, he ricocheted across the tainted portion of the atmosphere off their backs, sending uncontainable shock waves through their systems. One bird attempted a frontal assault while another came from behind. A trivial pincer formation was no match against Georgie's amplified sensory receptors, granting him fifty-foot awareness at three hundred and sixty degrees. Half-heartedly, the human raised his red scaled arms simultaneously backhanding the two out of sight. The day before, Georgie could barely hold the Paladin and ran with the dexterity of a newborn doe. Here, he was ripping apart an army like they were a horde of piñatas.
"IMPOSSIBLE!" Shrieked Corvolos. His focus was now set upon the flying roach.
With the propulsion of his celestial aura, the Paladin came down from the summit, sailing over the crater in a forward slash. Corvolos reacted panicked but quickly, and the sword clashed against the fingers on the demon's wings. Fingers only a few inches shorter than the chosen one's entire body. Finally, the two threads of fate had intertwined to sew their battle into the fabric of history.
"You seem flustered," said the Paladin, smirking at the colossal face. "Trust me, I didn't think things would go this way either."
It was unbelievable, utterly inconceivable. In the 9th Age, Corvolos was serenaded daily by the screams and terror of mortals. His name rang over the hills of his threat to mankind. The Holy Sword Rada gave everything he had to rewrite fate itself to keep the demon at bay. But now, in the 12th age, the fodder mocked him, and the heir to his nemesis' power chose banter as their first true exchange? It was madness. Complete and vile madness! His wings came down and the earth began to tremble before the Paladin was sent into the bowl of broken sandstone by the hammer current of air pulled along Corvolos's flapping. The fiend hovered above the chosen one as he landed on his feet. His coiled vulture neck released, launching a downward zigzag to send gigantic, jagged jaws onto the blonde upstart.
Georgie, the Paladin reflected inside as the full force of Corvolos's head was dealt to the flat of his steel. I think we were both right about some things.
Golden holy energy rose through his palms, igniting the blade into a divine saber. The demon felt the knight's resistance strengthening, a pressure on his teeth sent to their roots. The distant memory of Rada's first successful attack resurfaced. That sense of a threat he had not yet experienced. It came from the same weapon imbued with that same magic.
Everyday people do have higher callings, the hero thought back on these two days, watching that tired looking passerby's hard work displayed throughout the journey. The inside of his armor shined from the burning of his soul, and he took steps forward. And sometimes, they can't afford to lose their chance to get better at what they love. I don't think most of those people would go as far as you, but that's what makes you strong without a sword.
The Paladin pushed Corvolos back while his being became enveloped in the true power of his predecessor. With all his might the blade turned narrow between two fangs, slicing into gum before pulling back for a follow up strike to his 8-foot-tall cheek.
I want to be that kind of man too! The Paladin's spirit roared; the sword swung despite the exhaling gust made by Corvolos's reaction. He couldn't be moved an inch as his golden radiance anchored the true strike. I want to be a chef who will always reach greater heights and make a menu everyone can enjoy!
"RIGHTEOUS CHOP!"
As the blade touched flesh, the cracks in the armor expanded, unable to contain his energy anymore and expelled off his body. Corvolos retreated his face back to the collar, dragging a trench across the rubble to snatch a boulder. As he completely returned to the air, his talons gripped the huge chunk of sandstone and flung it back. Like warmed butter, the Paladin cut the debris cleanly in two as he walked between the halves. Out the other side, a volley of feathers longer than javelins followed.
"Congratulations Chosen One," Corvolos mocked as his titanic wings swiped, elevating higher while releasing his dense rain of keratin. The Paladin pivoted and parried the feathers as they fell without end. Faster they came when the demon witnessed one grazing his enemy's side, now protected only by a simple tunic. Closer and closer to a direct strike. "Despite my efforts wearing you down, you still found the strength to injure me once. TAKE THAT PRIDE WITH YOU TO THE GRAVE! HYAK HYAKAKA- "
At the moment, the wound on Corvolo's cheek intensified at the sudden crushing pressure of a boot kicking him across the face. His eyes snapped over and saw that boot was connected to the dull looking roach, Georgie.
"Hey," he said stolidly, but with a hint of playfulness to pester. Still in midair and coated in scales, Georgie motioned behind to a stagnant black mist. "You ran out of birds."
Corvolos gasped in disbelief as the fragments wafted back to the demon's clouds. His viscous blood like molten tar as the corners of Georgie's lip began moving into a smile, revealing teeth mutated with the fangs of a lion. A small yet loud statement of impishness cracking through the vendor's professionalism. Corvolos could feel the demeaning satisfaction assaulting his periphery, playing the word "nuisance" in the human's voice. It needed to be silenced.
"Pest," the demon grunted in exasperation, swinging a talon up to skewer the human. Georgie kicked off the tip of the nail, sending tremors through Corvolos's nerves. "WHY? WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE!"
The humanoid chimera gripped the brim of his fiddler cap and tucked it away in his satchel. His body hunched into an amateur front flip over the fiend. Between messing brown bangs, the skin of Georgie's forehead twisted open as solid goat horns jut out curving. He finished his flip by putting all of his weight into a headbutt directly onto Corvolos's hairline. Rolling down his back, Georgie halted the slide mid-way at the spine and delivered an unrelenting flurry of thunderous slaps.
A year ago, while asking for directions in a tavern, Georgie had a hostile interaction with a drunk man who insisted he called him something obscene. With no fighting experience and an aversion to unnecessary conflict, Georgie blanked and slapped the man before his fist could ball up. The scene left every patron stunned and confused by a grown man slapping another grown man. This gave Georgie the opportunity to run. From that day on, the open palm became his signature strategy when it came to fisticuffs. Not strong, but demoralizing. However, with the strength of a legendary monster, it could be both.
After unleashing a five fingered salvo of sixty smacks in half a minute, Georgie made a hasty retreat. Punctuating on the moderately painful twinges on his back with a brone cracking amount of force propelling away. The demon was knocked back and quickly flipped his mass in the flying vendor's direction. He let out an annoyed hiss and fired a new volley of feathers. Georgie took advantage and avoided the first, adjusting his trajectory and landed on the second like a platform to run off. The third was grabbed by the quill and waved as a fan to disperse the next feathers incoming.
"Wait," Georgie pondered at his new finding while falling around a cone of oversized lethal plumage. His eyes literally lit up the same as when investigating the dark fog. "This isn't from conjuration magic. It's just a big sturdy feather."
The vendor landed at the edge of the crater, turning the attention of Corvolos to him and his back to the Paladin. Though a hellbent monstrosity stared murderous intent at him, Georgie couldn't help but become lost in the texture of the barbs. So strong, so thick, so full of texture. There wasn't even a hint of demonic magic running through the rachis. It was everything he had read of real Stead Vulture feathers, but now reinforced and larger than a longsword! Such promise filled the man with so much eagerness that Georgie nearly wept at the chance these feathers were worth all the walking and vitriol he had to endure.
"I underestimated you, demon," he smiled in a way disconnected from humanity. Looking at Corvolos like a big angry bag of gold labeled, Rent and Travel Expenses. "You may prove useful to me after all."
"You bastard..." The demon's eye twitched at those words, and his mind snapped in two. "YOU DEFIANT SICKNESS, COMPLACENTLY FESTERING IN MY BEING LIKE A TUMOR! BY THE END OF THIS DAY, YOU WILL BEG FOR THE MERCY OF MY TEETH! I WILL SEAL MY WOUNDS WITH ROLLS OF YOUR SKIN! YOU WILL CRY, STAINING THAT IMPUDENT MOUTH WITH YOUR OWN BLOOD! I AM THE ARCH FIEND OF ASSIMILATION, CORVOlO- "
"Shut up," Georgie interrupted once again. He rummaged through his pocket and retrieved a pair of tweezers. "I'm sorry, but I'm working."
The Paladin looked on at his destined combatant snapping at the air in whirlwinds as Georgie Galmot bounced and sailed on the currents. Gliding around Corvolos's tantrum and plucking feathers from his blind spots.
"Incredible," he chuckled watching. "He can get under anyone's skin."
Pulling out the potion given to him, the hero gazed at the orange clot. The cork popped and the Paladin swallowed it down with faith. The texture was not unlike a gelatinous egg yolk fermented in lake algae. The taste was that of shellfish for some reason. It felt as though the Paladin was choking on a wet makeup sponge. Whatever this did, it needed to be worth the offensive experience. When the bottle was empty, the knight started perspiring through his clothes concerningly fast. Already soaked, he wiped a layer of sweat off his cheek, and the Paladin realized he could not see his own hand. Examining himself from skin to sword, there was nothing there.
"An invisibility potion that can affect even clothing?" He said walking towards the aerial skirmish. "Amazing."
Georgie spun down one of Corvelos's wings with one feather in each hand and two more held by the satchel's tightened strap. Emulating diamond cutting diamond, he used his mythical muscles and thwacked the carpal edge of the wing. The fingers on the bend extend in a shocked nerve, open for a follow-up strike from the second feather's edge. It slid across two of the digits, and Corvolos felt the pain, but it was mild. Georgie may have been strong now, but his strength was only able to deal moderate damage. If the fiend could calm his nerves for a moment, maybe he could time himself right and silence the wretch. Unfortunately for Corvolos, that thought was dashed as the fingers Georgie swiped began burning at the joints. He watched as a searing line grew over his claws and ruptured into limp amputations falling to the earth.
"GRYAAA!" Screamed the demon in an uncontrollable lashing of agony and confusion. "HOW? This pain... celestial in magic? WHAT DID YOU DO?"
"Another potion," Georgie raised his voice while staying on track. He bit down on one of the feathers and used the free hand to run up the back. The trail shined in a radiant slash. "Just getting warmed up and all that."
Over and over the vendor played the part of a horse fly biting the belly of this spawn from another plane, but now he bit harder than ever possible. Georgie slid down Corvolos's bucking thigh, followed by his golden cut slitting plumage and skin. Though the demon's body spasmed and flew in rapid movements, the mutated man held on for dear life thanks to his heightened awareness, sticky boots, and lion nails. It was extra difficult considering he was only doing it with one hand by the time the light attacks began. Although he had the stamina of a chimera, there was a limit. He ran with his free arm outstretched behind him, opening his fingers.
Come on hero, Georgie winced, irked but still steadfast reaching the underbelly. Take the hint!
As his perspective turned inverted running underneath the demon, Georgie whipped his head backward without missing a step. Feeling him run across his stomach, Corvolos let loose a minefield of feathers firing as his talon scraped the yard's darkness. Desperately Georgie split his attention from the danger in front of him, to the unseen paladin who had been following Georgie by the grip of his messenger bag.
"Grab on!" He shouted to the knight, spinning away from an oncoming projectile. His eyes glowed looking directly into the Paladin's.
He can see me. The chosen one gasped inside. Of course he'd know I'm here, but he can actually see me?
"I have ten minutes left," Georgie said while back handing a feather, the two making that last yard to the other side of Corvolos's hip. "Jump him!"
The Paladin's put aside his surprise and nodded back in understanding. He took Georgie's hand, and the potion vendor planted his feet, skidding across the chaotic underbelly. With his red scaled biceps, he swung the invisible warrior in a perfect curve up the demon's side and far above his head. At the same time a talon found Georgie and struck. The nail point collided against the skin just below the vendor's armpit. Georgie choked on his expelled breath and was sent falling headfirst back to the earth. Corvolos extended his neck at a perfect right angle following the human in free fall.
The Paladin looked down at his exposed target, he saw his ally on the verge of consumption. His body surged with the same radiant magic as before, sending a powerful light down at the back of Corvolos's head. The demon skin began to vibrate with the instinct of mortal danger. Behind him, an angelic meteorite appeared out of nothing and descended from the sky on target to his neck. The radiant energy traveled up the blade and formed a giant cocoon of golden light. The mass of magic shaped and molded into a cleaver twice the Paladin's size.
"ALMIGHTY," a voice roared down to Corvolos from the heavens. The Paladin fell through the air at such a velocity the magic from his constructed cutlery left shimmering atoms behind. "CLEAVE!"
The cleaver came down just as Corvolos retracted his neck so fast that the elasticity of his skin smoked. The hard light blade was still able to land, but could only maim the demon, perfectly skinning his right jaw. Georgie regained his senses and increased the durability of his scales at the feet before going directly through a layer of sandstone. The chopped segment of the fiendish face crashed into the crater and flattened the rubble beneath. The agony coursing through Corvolos's face sent a traumatic ring into the depths of his being. He remembered the look on Rada's face when he cut him a similar way down the back all those centuries ago. The original hero was battered and bloody with a mangled hand, but he still found the strength to cut so deep into a giant. The odds were against him, yet he still smiled. It actually made the demon uneasy. The exposure, that gap exposing weakness. This wasn't supposed to happen again.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Corvolos opened his wings and used his remaining fingers to command the overhead shadow down. Two black spires of unstable conjuration dust shot down directly at Georgie and the fireball of holy energy unaffected by the Paladin's invisibility. Simultaneously they were blasted by the overpowering assault of endless jet streams. Pressured back to solid ground, the Paladin was struck from the back. His body crashed against the edge of the crater, pinned with only three fingers free. His aura was resisting, but the sheer numbers were replacing everything he burned away. Meanwhile, Georgie's imprint was building in size as the force of his black spire pressed him further into the sandstone. In exasperation, his hands swiped mounds of jettisoned fragments. Through his panting and waves, he saw the paladin embedded into the dirt.
"He's as big as an airship!" He screamed at the restrained hero. His arms leaving dozens of afterimages via panicked flailing. "HOW COULD YOU MISS?"
"You..." Corvolos snarled at his true foe. "You would lower yourself to partake in this scum's drafts? Pathetic. HOW DARE YOU USE TRICKS TO CONQUER OUR FATE!"
He created an earthquake landing in a deciding drop onto his former prison. His rickety smile finally returned to his now mutilated face. The exposed cheek poured green ichor into the stone bowl as he reveled in the two's state. Finally, the humans were in their rightful place at the archfiend's mercy. His leaking face peered over Georgie while slapping sand dunes for dear life.
"I will admit this to you, Georgie," Corvolos hummed, breathing down on the occupied vendor. "Your mind is quick. Even with complete ignorance, you adapt. And if my opponent decided to use you, then it would only be fair if I were allowed the same."
6 minutes left... Georgie thought as Corvolos's maniacal, mangled maw sadistically closed in on him. Plan B, bold theory!
"At last, my peace," the demon uttered with a decisive calmness. Enjoying every second of this pale creature's struggle. He couldn't contain the pure murderous bliss he had longed for since hearing Georgie first speak. "COME TO ME, MY FLESH!"
The spire froze its expansion for its master's assimilation. Georgie staggered a few feet with a hand in his bag, arm increasing in scales. The guillotine came down, and Georgie reached forward to receive it. From his hand he released a last-ditch effort. If it worked, then he was a genius. If it didn't, hopefully his equipment and research could be donated to dedicated and morally incorruptible scholars. Though most likely they'd end up in an auction around his neighborhood.
"GEORGIE!" The Paladin yelled under a hill's worth of dark fragments. His blood coursed dangerously through the veins at the pace of his heart.
The teeth were slowed breaking through the extra layers of scaled skin, but his entire forearm was punctured straight to the bone before all the strength in his remaining left hand worked to hold down the bottom jaw. Georgie's voice reached a height people would never believe possible for him. His composed corpse-like demeanor was given life when faced with certain death. His whales ran dry before he could let out the obscenities he wished to.
"That's what I was waiting for!" Corvolos celebrated the first true cry of agony in centuries. It was everything he could have hoped for. "Thank you, Georgie. Now that we are here, I appreciate our time. You reminded me of what I hate, and love about you humans."
"Corv- ack!" gagged Georgie at the shock of his complete muscular tearing. The knuckles in his left hand were chalk white under the strain holding the bottom row of teeth in place. In the back of his mind, he marked the fourth to last minute before reverting to his average and more breakable bones. "I need... can..."
"Hmmm?" Corvolos mused. "And still, you have the strength to speak."
"Can... you eat... rocks?"
At those words, time froze. Corvolos's scalp crawled as an alarming sensation seeped through every nerve. His eyes began dangling over Georgie as he pulled off his impaled arm. Why weren't his jaws closing? No, they were. Corvolos could feel his jaws moving, he could feel and see them closing down on both arms, yet Georgie was falling into the dirt with both still attached.
"Can you eat rocks?" Georgie grunted, kicking dirt at the demon while scrambling to stand. He chuckled through jerking brought on by a mixture of shock and adrenaline. "That is what I asked myself when I saw you. I thought, 'he becomes what he eats?' and 'does it have to be flesh?' If you could eat rocks, you could eat the whole mountain; be an unstoppable titan."
Corvolos stared back motionless as his eyes split into two stories. Georgie laid limbless and screaming, but there he sat on a nearby rock, drinking his last healing potion. He could taste his flesh, but it wasn't in his mouth. He knew he was moving, but how fast? He experienced his victory, yet still the human spoke! The conjuration dust piled on the Paladin began to lull, slowing down and lightened in weight until the black mounds reached stagnation.
"Wha... have..." Corvolos managed to mutter at the pace of a turtle. Inside the demon raged. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME YOU PROFOUNDLY PERNICIOUS PARASITE?
"That made me start thinking," Georgie swigged his potion, gaining some level of comfort from the anodyne effects. "If your assimilation only works on living beings, then you can't take the properties of something like say, a plant."
The Paladin crawled out from the darkness through a tunnel of searing radiance building inside. He watched the obstinate brewer go on another tangent as the hole in his arm briskly swelled and sealed.
"Hey hero," Georgie casually turned attention to the chosen one, returning to his feet. "You know how some animals here have a way to filtrate cactus water? Do stead vultures have those?"
"No," the Paladin realized as he trudged over, sword dragging behind. "They break into groups that travel to distant watering holes while the others guard the young."
"Correct," Georgie raised his index finger, now with a normal nail and significantly less scales. "And so, if Corvolos took the stead vulture's biological traits, then he may be susceptible to the local fauna."
"You threw a cactus in his mouth?" The Paladin exclaimed.
"A big cactus piece stuffed with a bag of doze powder," Georgie walked to meet the knight, but knelt down to procure another big feather. "I found one over where I was dealing with the constructs. Just in case, which turned out to be the case."
"Die... " Corvolos dragged from his paralyzed mouth, creeping like a yawn. The two humans looked at the fiend's wing starting to sway in an attempt to crush them. It could have killed them if they were dumb enough to wait another five minutes. The water's euphoria tried to bring comfort, but Corvolos's constitution from the hells resisted total immersion. It was a dream without truly falling asleep, with the waking world in plain view. He knew what was happening and fought tooth and talon to work that hallucinogen from his system.
"Just be quick," Georgie said bluntly while continuing to walk past the Paladin. "He'll probably come out of this soon."
Alarmed, the hero nodded before rushing to meet the immobilized Corvolos. Without a single word he raised both hands interlocked with palms aimed at the inside of the gaping fiendish gullet.
This isn't, Corvolos panicked within his locked body. THIS ISN'T HOW I DIE! I WAS FINALLY FREE YOU REPULSIVE MAGGOTS! I AM THE ARCHFIEND OF ASSIMILATION, THE DEMON WHO ERASED THE GIANTS OF THIS VERY LAND! I AM NOT SOME PEON TO DISPATCH WITH SIMPLE TRICKS! LIVE UP TO YOUR PREDECESSOR AND FIGHT ME LIKE A TRUE WARRIOR!
"This... isn't how... I die..." With all that, he could only manage the first 5 words. The Paladin's palms beamed a condensed sphere, sunlight clashing with the blotted domain.
"Maybe it shouldn't be after waiting so long," the knight admitted, the collection of energy shattered all space against the gravitational force of a human's dream. "But the minutia is relative, right? Goodbye, Corvolos."
STOP IT, DAMN YOU! The demon broke as the light overtook both stories his mind was witnessing.
"CELESTIAL DEEP FRY!"
Georgie only made it a few yards before needing to cover his ears at the explosion behind. He decided not to look, on the chance it could give him a headache. However, he couldn't help raising a grin, knowing it meant the end to his delayed schedule.
The mountain side was demolished, boulders reduced to molten gold residue. The surface, permanently scraped from the earth and replaced with the scent of smoked poultry. In the wake was a sizzling titanic bird, hollowed from the inside and overly crispy. The haze cleared, revealing the Paladin on his knees, staring off into the crumbling face of his lifelong obligation.
"Well," shouted Georgie, snapping the Paladin back. "I guess that's that."
With hands clenched, and eyes strained in his welling. The Paladin kept his word and saved Sall. Their lives remained theirs, free from the threat of Corvolos and free to continue living out the best of their lives. On that day, the door to that freedom opened, waiting for the chosen one to join. It was okay to let go.
"Yeah," he sniffled with a smile back, allowing tears to fall from his face. "That's that."
. . .
"Almost finished," Georgie said as finely chopped Corvolos feather barbs stewed in a small pot with coconut oil, a biotin tablet, four round cuts of binder root, and half a cup of kombucha.
"Really?" The Paladin peered over the brewer's shoulder as he worked. "And you're sure these things don't carry any demonic magic?"
"Yes," Georgie motioned his head away from the invasion of space. "Now for coagulatio. We'll see what three teaspoons of stalwart salt does."
As the concoction began to bubble with the earthly implementation, the Paladin watched the process intently. The steam rose as the water turned the color of stone-ground mustard but smelled of black tea and methane. He glanced over at Georgie to discern if these were a good sign, and his face relaxed. Almost tranquil if it wasn't for a sudden twitch in his eye, which reminded the Paladin of something.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Why?" Georgie maintained concentration on his stirring.
"I'm just curious about something," the Paladin answered quickly. "It's about earlier, when I was invisible. You looked back at me."
"It was obvious you were the one leaving those cuts." Georgie answered quicker.
"But," the hero pressed with reason. "You were looking right at me, and your eyes glowed. It also happened in the-"
"They're not mine," his words cut off the Paladin, giving his full attention. "My eyes used to be green, but I have these now. I don't like them, but I'm stuck with them. Sometimes they're convenient."
He lifted the pot, steam waving with the mountain winds. Georgie maintained his steady hand despite the reluctant explanation.
"Give it a few minutes to cool, and we'll see."
"Are you going to take it yourself?" Asked the Paladin.
Georgie nodded, "I brought scissors."
Noble, thought culinary knight, feeling kindred now watching his ally perform in his craft the way he did. However, Georgie humored his creation. "I'd actually like to volunteer."
The brewer fanned the brew with his sore hand, looking at the Paladin with a cocked head and raised eyebrow. He was wondering why the guy was still even here, but he wasn't necessarily unwanted or bothersome at this point.
"I mean, I guess," he responded stiff and iffy. "Why?"
"Truth be told," the Paladin ran fingers through his own locks. "I've kind of always wanted longer hair. I keep it a little wavy, but mostly short for combat. Now I don't have to worry about that."
"You'll probably need a hairnet."
"Or maybe a bandana," the aspiring chef laughed, defending himself. "That wouldn't look bad!"
The pot cooled and was ready for testing. The liquid congealed into a fibrous pulpy gel, gently scooped with a clean spoon by Georgie. Slowly he trickled the warm tonic over the Paladin's scalp, gently smoothing it in between his follicles with the bottom of the spoon. The knight could feel the slightly warm sap seep down his blonde strands to their roots. They began to tingle, subtly massaging the crown. He could feel the gears, turning under his skin as his bangs began peeking from the top of his eyeline. Immediately Georgie pulled a pocket-sized retractable ruler from his overalls and measured the process. Soon the Paladin's hair what's halfway down his neck before ending its miraculous growth.
"Nearly 6 inches," Georgie said clinically. His eyes glowed once again, walking around his subject's head. "And the only magic I'm seeing is yours, so that's positive."
"How do I look?" The Paladin asked, only half serious.
"The same, but with longer hair."
"Figures you'd say that," the hero chuckled. He rose from his seat in the dirt, looking at Georgie with a smile he never knew he would make at this man the day before. It was a look of accomplishment. He extended a hand of mutual respect. "Congratulations on your new hair tonic, Georgie!"
The vendor was exhausted, still aching from the overuse of his body in the last few hours. The bags that always laid under his eyes were heavier and shallower. He was on fumes by this point, conducting his brewing and measurements out of habit. With the Paladin's words, it finally occurred to Georgie that his tonic was a success. There were many other ways he could have made this potion, but none of them were what he wanted. They had all been used before. Of course he hated this trip, but now he couldn't regret it. Every potential regret taking this commission had become null. He smiled back and shook his hand, showing satisfaction under a painfully tired face.
"Thanks," he sighed. "And congratulations on pursuing cooking, um... oh wait."
"What is it?"
And without a shred of shame, Georgie asked, "What's your name?"
Behind the two, the crisp corpse of Corvolos whistled wind from its hollowed mass. It filled in for the dumbstruck hero as his open mouth only produced silence. In a way he was embarrassed too for never actually introducing himself. He is still technically a stranger to Georgie!
"Oh," he said, resuming his smile in an attempt to salvage the moment. "Funny it never came up. It's Dan. Dan Fron."
"Huh," Georgie surprisingly took that in for a second. "I thought it'd be longer. I could possibly remember that."
"I hope so," Dan replied with rolled eyes, moving his newly unkempt bangs. "Here, let me help you clean up."
Soon after Georgie's supplies were packed up, and it was time to put this job to an end. All that was left was a simple day-long walk down a treacherous mountain and another four days traveling home. With any luck he could get a cheap ticket for a horsebus between one or two towns. That could give him a chance to only lose a quarter of his sale.
"Well," he slung his satchel over his shoulder. "I got a timeline to meet. Are you ready?"
Leaning up against a boulder, Dan was lost looking at the view. The sky looked so endless and perfect. He took a deep breath of clean air with only trickles of demon charcoal and shook his head contently.
"I think I'll stay here a little longer," he said, shrugging to Georgie. "You go on. Maybe I'll find you on the way down."
"Sure," he didn't question. "But hopefully I'll be halfway down by tonight with my adhesive. Just need to not trip. Later."
As he turned to walk away, Dan shouted to the vendor, "Hey, catch!"
Georgie quickly turned and received a greasy wrapped cloth to his face. As it fell, he readied his hands and caught the wet wrap.
"It's candied bacon," the cook explained. "I never got to eat any this morning. You'll need a snack for the trip."
"Heh," a chuckle rose from Georgie, taking Dan aback. He turned around once again and continued on. "Good luck Dan."
"Georgie!" The aspiring chef of destiny called down to the potion brewer as he left. "If we ever meet again, I'll make you another meal! Free of charge."
Not wanting to stop and feeling this conversation had already ended twice, Georgie stretched his arm overhead and waved with the back of his hand.
Should have started with half off. He thought. He's got a ways to go.
Dan watched as the mysterious potion vendor with magic eyes disappeared over the horizon. The lion mane gifted to him danced in the breeze, celebrating the end of a longest chapter in the young man's life. In his hand was a piece of bacon he kept for himself. He took a bite, savory the smokiness. Between the chewing, Dan Fron: Paladin of the Culinary Arts, vowed to make the next chapter even longer.
But he might be alright.