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Slime Cafe
Chapter Seven: Dwarf

Chapter Seven: Dwarf

Where is your might?

It was like thunder.

Like rolling thunder over hills, crashing down.

Where has it gone?

It ground all before it to dust.

-Anonymous

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After waiting far longer than Miro thought appropriate, Olivai had finished getting her entire outfit ready. Her staff was in one hand, her robes were neatly tied, and her hair was perfectly done in complex braids. Checking herself one last time in the mirror, she gave Miro a smile. “All right, now we can go get you some food. I’m sure you’re just dying of hunger.”

It burbled insistently at her and she shook her head amusedly. “Don’t eat too much. The only payment I receive for my services come from the tithes given to the chapel, and I suspect your appetite might outweigh my wages somewhat.”

Miro didn’t know very much about money, it didn’t know what tithes were, and wages were an unfamiliar concept. What it did know was food. It wanted food so badly at this point that it almost wanted to eat itself.

Not bothering to wait for her, Miro bounced towards the door and pushed it open. Olivai had left it cracked open, and although it was still heavy, a bit of effort succeeded in moving it.

Rolling down the stairs, Miro paused and examined the fire slime in its cage. This was the first time Miro hadn’t been rushing in Olivai’s arms to do something or another, and the little slime was the first of its species that Miro had met thus far.

The tiny slime woke up at Miro’s curious burble and looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. After a brief second, it saw Miro and blew a happy raspberry.

Squeezing itself into a smaller ball, Miro leaned over the stairwell and experimentally tasted the air of the fire slime. It was similar to its own - a thick air that was harder to inhale than most, laced with a spicy outer layer. In return, the fire slime opened its tiny mouth and took a breath of Miro’s air.

After a moment’s consideration, the fire slime seemed to decide that it liked the taste and gave Miro a bubbling chirp.

Miro looked up at the door. Olivai was still locking her door, and her back was turned. Miro made its decision in an instant.

Bouncing over the slight gap, Miro landed on the cage and liquified itself. Partially falling through, Miro proceeded to eat the fire slime in one bite, and then rolled out the other side. Plopping onto the stairs and almost falling down, Miro spat the fire slime out onto the staircase.

It looked utterly baffled for a few seconds, to Miro’s amusement. It searched the staircase in total confusion, trying to find the limits of its cage, before realizing that it wasn’t in it anymore. Without further hesitation, it did an about-face and started bobbing down the stairs. Miro watched it go and wondered what it would decide to do with its life. Hopefully nothing with any more cages.

The door’s locks finished engaging from somewhere above Miro, and it turned to find Olivai hurrying down the steps. She didn’t seem to notice that the fire slime was gone, possibly due to the natural light streaming in through the windows, but she definitely noticed Miro halfway down the stairs, and she gave him a frown. “What are you doing there? I thought you would have already headed outside.”

Miro did its level best to look as innocent as possible, which was much easier when one didn’t have most of a body. Olivai shook her head as she came down the stairs, slinging her staff over one shoulder so she could lean down to give Miro a pat. “I wish you could talk. It’d certainly make it easier to figure out what’s going on in your head.”

Miro was thrown for a loop as it tried to figure out whether or not slimes had an anatomy that allowed for heads, or perhaps if the entirety of its body was a head. If that was the case, where was its stomach? The same place as its brain?

That would explain a lot, if Miro was being honest.

Heading down the stairs, Olivai glanced back at Miro and asked, “Are you coming? I thought you were hungry.”

At that moment, Miro realized that it didn’t matter whether its brain and its stomach were in the same place. They both agreed that food was of the utmost priority at the moment, and Miro rolled down the stairs as fast as it could.

The church’s chapel was quiet and pleasant in the early morning, clearly outlined dust motes lazily floating through the sunlight and vanishing once they’d left its warm rays. The stone floor was cold, gradually warming up as the morning progressed and the sun heated it. At one point, Miro rolled over a strip of very warm stone, and it had a feeling that it’d known where the fire slime had gone.

They left the church without preamble or fanfare, Miro making sure that it stuck close to Olivai. Otto and Olivai were comfortable around it - or at least as comfortable as Miro could imagine them being - but it suspected most people would be less accommodating to a slime wandering around on its own.

The cobbled street was an interesting texture on Miro’s slime, a sort of undulating ripple beneath it. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but it was an unfamiliar feeling that Miro would have to get used to. It’d already made a habit of keeping its mouth closed when rolling around in the open, so it would hopefully get accustomed to the sensation.

With its attention on the ground underneath it, Miro didn’t notice when Olivai paused her pace and bumped into her heels. She stumbled forward, looking back to Miro. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stop. It’s just…” Trailing off, she gestured ahead of her, and Miro followed her arm.

There was a small crowd in front of a shadowed alley, cheering at something. Miro couldn’t see what it was through all the people, but one look at Olivai’s expression and it had a feeling she knew what the disturbance was.

With a sigh, she started walking over. “Come on. We might as well get this over with.” Miro followed her with some trepidation, wondering what the commotion was all about.

Olivai picked Miro up as they walked so that it wouldn’t get stepped on, pushing through the people. They initially looked irritated, but their expressions switched to surprise and then to respect as she walked forward.

One final layer of people later and Miro saw what was going on. A bipedal creature was shuffling a deck of cards with extreme speed and dexterity. Despite his long, blunt claws, he seemed to be having no trouble with the small pieces of hard paper.

He measured perhaps four and a half feet tall at the most, with a dense shell covering him from his forward-sloped brow to the end of his rounded stub of a tail. A pair of yellow eyes glinted from beneath his forehead, an impish smile shining just below them. He was built stockily, but in such a way that Miro felt there was more muscle than fat under his brown, leathery skin. It was the first dwarf that Miro could remember seeing.

He was facing a relaxed Maderai, who was watching the dwarf’s claws with a razor focus in his eyes. Cards went flying, and the dwarf plucked them from the air with incredible speed, shuffling them between his claws until the deck was reorganized. Flipping them to the other hand, he fanned them out over the makeshift table between them. “Righty righty then, ya ready ta guess?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The Maderai smiled. “Of course.” Reaching forward, he gently moved his winged arm over the fan, and then selected one.

The dwarf’s grin widened infinitesimally as he leaned over the table. “Perfect! Lemme just pick that up for ya, and I’ll-”

With a sudden motion, the Maderai switched his choice. “I didn’t see you change the cards,” he said calmly, “But I know which one I chose.” He picked up a card and held it face-forward to the dwarf, a confident smile on his beak.

A smile that was mirrored on the dwarf’s face. “Ya sure about that?” He flipped the card in question around to reveal a stylized picture of a shrouded skeleton with a knife and a coin. The Maderai scowled, standing abruptly as the crowd laughed. The dwarf grinned as he reached for the small pile of money on the table.

A bangled staff rapped his hand, and he looked up its length to find Olivai on the other end, a stern expression on her face and Miro right at her heels. His grin staled instantly. “Ah, durrn.”

“Language.” Olivai stated calmly. Glancing at the huddled people behind her, she casually inquired, “Betting, are we?”

The crowd immediately dispersed with startling speed, the Maderai seizing his money as he left. A number of muted apologies were sent in Olivai’s direction, and within moments, the only ones left at the dwarf’s table were Olivai, Miro, and the dwarf himself.

Slowly raising his hands in defense, the dwarf warily said, “Aight, miss, let’s put that staff down before somebody - and I mean me, beggin’ yer pardon - gets hurt.”

Olivai raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He blinked. “If’n I’m bein’ honest, I was just makin’ connersation is all.” His claws slowly lowered as Olivai pulled her staff back. “Now, I’m well aware of the policy on bettin’ here, and by the way yer hair’s lookin’ great, but I was thinkin’ maybe I could avoid goin’ to the jail again? It’s gettin’ moldy in there and I ain’t lookin’ forward to meetin’ that one big rat. Bugger’s gettin’ bigger every time I see the carkin’ thing."

Olivai folded her arms. “I have no intention of purifying the prison. It’s supposed to be unpleasant.”

He shrugged, slowly easing to his stumpy feet. “If’n that’s ta be the case, ma’am, you’ve sure as all heck succeeded.”

Shaking her head, Olivai bluntly told him, “No more betting tables, sleight. If you can’t manage to stay in the boundaries of the law then I’d recommend you leave.”

He frowned, raising his hands again. “Now hol’ up just a gur’vahkn minute, missy. Me and mah family’s been rooted right here since way befur’ Caro Lias sprung up. If anythin’, I should be tellin’ you to book it!” He jabbed a claw in her direction.

Olivai promptly lifted her staff and he immediately sat down. “Or not, that’s ‘aight too. Say, I thought you was ‘spose to be one o’ Didoa’s, right? Whatever happened ta kindness and stuff?”

Miro was having a hard time trying to figure out what exactly the dwarf was saying. Olivai seemed to be having an equally difficult experience. “Kindness is not naivete, sleight. It is something freely given until a reason is found not to. And you’ve given me several. Repeated mistakes are a greater offense than an accident.”

He grinned. “You ever met a dog, ma’am? I’m of the opinion they’d disagree. And mah name ain’t sleight.”

Olivai rolled her eyes. Miro wasn’t sure why she harbored such an intense dislike for the dwarf. Sure, he was hard to understand, but he sounded mostly harmless. “All right, I’ll bite. What is your name, if not ‘sleight’?”

He proudly stood straight. “Donnel Lasthar, hundred and ninth of mah name, at yer service.”

Olivai’s eyebrows jumped in mild disbelief. “Hundred and ninth?”

Donnel’s head bobbed. “Sure thing, ma’am. Donnel Lasthar the First was one carker of a dwarf. Served under the King and all his court as a slime gardener. Best one ever, accordin’ to our stories.”

Miro released a startled burble. What was a slime gardener? Did they keep slimes in cages? Was that why the fire slime from earlier was in a cage?

Donnel leaned over the table and blinked. “By th’ Hammer, that’s one fine piece o’ royalty right thar! Mind if I give ‘im a lookover? Might not be a gardener m’self, but I’ve been told every durrn bit of info there is on ‘em.”

Slinging her staff over her back, Olivai primly picked Miro up. “Definitely not. I’d rather you not steal him.”

Donnel put a claw on his heart. “On me mum’s pet mole, I swear I ain’t gonna harm the fella. Yer a well-behaved mite, ain’tcha?” He gave Miro a broad smile, his claws twitching slightly.

Olivai’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Pet mole?”

Donnel nodded. “Sure thing, ma’am. Me mum owned a pet mole, absolute monster of a thing. Dug holes all over the place. How she died, matter o’ fact.”

“The mole?”

“Me mum.”

An awkward silence followed. Thrown, Olivai coughed out, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He waved it away. “Aww, don’t worry about me none. Tough ‘s mythril, that’s me. Anyway, ya mind if I give ‘is majesty a quick look?”

Olivai chuckled disbelievingly as she put Miro down. “His majesty? Miro’s just a slime. A rather docile one, I grant that, but a slime nonetheless.”

Donnel started patting Miro over, inspecting him carefully. “Ain’t all slimes kings ‘n queens? They goes wherever they wishes, eats whenever and whatever they wants, an’ wait on nothin’ and nobody. Sounds like royalty ta me.”

Miro preened. It’d never thought of itself like that, but it made slimes sound a lot more special than everyone had been claiming. It was nice to have someone on its side, even if that someone was giving off a smell so strong Miro could taste it with its mouth closed.

Donnel stood and brushed himself off, small eyes squinting at Miro. “Huh.”

Olivai looked concerned in spite of her obvious distrust of the dwarf. “What is it?”

Scratching the back of his head, Donnel bluntly stated, “Well, in a slime this size, ya normally got a bunch o’ impurities and such. Dirt and mud and ghurzin like that. This fella’s barely got any.”

Olivai nodded understandingly. “I see. Miro was summoned only yesterday. I was surprised by his docile nature, so I decided to take him in. I’ve also purified him once or twice.”

Donnel snorted loudly. “Ma’am, I know ya ain’t no priestess for Silaos or nothin’, but I’m of th’ opinion that truthin’ might be a part of bein’ kind ta others.”

Sending a glare in his direction, Olivai sternly stated, “I assure you, I’m telling the truth. Here, I’ll show you.” Slinging her staff around, she aimed it at Miro and calmly said, “Purify.”

A wave of golden light washed over Miro, purging all of the dust and pebbles straight out of it. It gave her a cheerful chirp - it was actually starting to enjoy the feeling by now.

Donnel took a hurried step back from them both, then squinted at Miro. “Er. I dunno how ta say this, but yer majesty should be pretty dead right about now.”

Olivai nodded agreeably. “I don’t know exactly why or how Miro survives my purification spell, but I believe it has something to do with its state of mind. I think it’s simply a very kind slime. It’s certainly proved as much in the short time I’ve known it, despite its prodigious appetite.”

Donnel shook his head. “Nah, that ain’t it. Slimes can be docile if'n yer feedin’ ‘em ‘nuff, but purification’s ‘sposed to take ‘em out right away, same as me. If ya don’t mind my askin’, what are ya feedin’ it? Ain’t never seen a slime actin’ like that, and I’ve seen mah fair share.”

Miro glared at Olivai. She ruefully scratched the back of her head. “I’m afraid I haven’t gotten around to feeding it yet. As I mentioned, Miro was only just summoned yesterday evening, and I simply haven’t had the time to get it a decent meal. Although… it did have most of a loaf of bread earlier today.”

Donnel’s tiny yellow eyes slowly widened as Olivai spoke, and his voice was hushed once she’d finished. “Ya mean ta tell me ya ain’t fed a slime o’ that size at all - and don’t say bread’s a meal, ‘cos it sure ain’t for a slime - and it ain’t tried ta eat nobody?”

Olivai raised a delicate eyebrow. “Should it have?”

Rising to his feet, Donnel sidestepped around the two of them, careful to keep an eye on Miro. “Ye could say that, yeah. Speakin’ in terms o’ th’ odds, every durrn slime I’ve ever even heard about goes no longer ‘n an hour or so afore tryin’ ta gnaw someone’s foot off.”

Miro was starting to like Donnel less the more he spoke, and the slime gave him a furious burble. Donnel frowned at it. “Look here, I ain’t no master gardener like Donnel the First or nothin’, but slimes don’t act like that. No normal ones, anyways. D’ye mind if I take it for a bit? Run some examinations and stuff.”

Slinging her staff over her back, Olivai stiffly picked Miro up, cradling it in her arms. “Absolutely not. I am going to get it some food, however. Are there any specific dishes slimes prefer?”

Donnel snorted loudly. “Ma’am, there ain’t nothin’ alive or dead a slime won’t eat. They ain’t exactly the pickiest of creatures.”

The taste of Olivai’s spell came to mind, and although it couldn’t say anything, Miro disagreed.