The earliest vestiges of morning light faintly glimmered far in the east, morphing the sky into a dark blue-pale orange gradient as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Vern sat cross legged just outside the tent. A large encyclopedia sat opened in his lap as a small nearby candle’s light danced across the pages. This was his monster manual, his prized possession. Though he always loved nature and animals, monsters especially captivated his imagination. Their wonder, majesty, power, danger. Studying them was a hobby of his, helped by this book, which cataloged nearly every monster known to man.
The book was opened to the section on hybrid beasts, pages turning as he browsed the selection of entries.
“Cocatrice, Basilisk, Peryton, Pamola, Hippogriffs, Griffins, Simurgh, Chimeras…Manticores.” speaking quietly to himself as he turned page after page.
The page detailing the manticore displayed a rough sketch of a large lion-like creature, with bright yellow fur, large bat wings, and a thick scorpion tail ending in a stinger. He traced the drawing with his finger as he skimmed through the entry.
“‘Like lions, manticores live in families or ‘prides’ consisting of one dominant male and two to three females along with their cubs…They live primarily in arid environments like deserts and savannas…Diurnal hunters, a pack of manticoress can easily take down prey many times their size…Some manticores have been observed coating their fangs and claws with their own tail venom.’ Could I be wrong then? Aside from the venom, none of the traits match up with our culprit.” He mused in a whisper.
Attention drawn to the footnote towards the bottom of the page he continued reading. “‘There have been some eyewitness reports of manticore-like creatures that more closely resemble other species of big cats. These claims have yet to be confirmed by the ‘Naturalist’s Monster Preservation Institution’ or any other accredited organization.’ Hmm.”
The ranger flips the book closed, setting it aside to his left as he reaches for the borrowed sword he had sitting beside him to the right. Holding it in front of him he pulled the blade out of its simple leather sheath, lifting it up to examine it. The length of the blade was a bit longer than the length between his elbow and fingertips, and about as wide as his palm. The crossguard was simple, short, and curved up slightly on each side, the handle was wrapped in leather strips and fit comfortably in hand. The pommel was small, smooth, round and slightly smudged.
Vern frowned. Using average steel against any monster was not ideal. All monsters were magic, at least partially, that explains their supernatural abilities and impossible biology that manifests in different ways. For beasts like manticores it results in their hybridized physiology and tough hides resistant to conventional weaponry. To fight a monster you need some form of anti-magic. For rangers it’s their blessed, moon-silverlined swords. A prestigious, expensive weapon that can only be crafted by the combined efforts of a powerful magician, a master blacksmith, and an archbishop. Not only a powerful tool for facing any threat, magic or mundane, but a symbol of their office. Treated with the utmost respect and dignity.
And he broke his.
Vern dejectedly falls back onto the sandy ground behind him, landing with a muffled thud, tossing the pitiful sword off to the side. He presses his hands into his face, groaning in annoyance and embarrassment into them.
The tent flap swishes open as Zee pokes her head outside, tired eyes blinking in the early morning light. “Your warcry needsh a lil work y’know.”
He tilts his head back to look at her upside down. They agreed the previous night to sleep in shifts as a precaution. They didn’t expect the beast to be prowling around their campsite but it was better to be safe. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Usually I get to holler all I want out here without worrying about anyone else.”
“I dint shleep very well anywaysh.” She protested, climbing out of the tent, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a loud yawn. “Ushually I shleep in’a big ol pile wisha resht of my clan.”
“Oh yeah? No concept of personal space huh?” Cheekily jeering as he sat up, turning around to face her.
Zee rubbed her left eye as she tilted her head in confusion. “Bein’ family meansh ye are my shpace.” she spoke in a wistful tone, ears drooping slightly. “Thash the firsh time I shlept without any’on in my shpace…”
Vern felt a tightness in his chest as he saw her gloomy expression. He guessed she was starting to feel a little homesick, and felt guilty for mocking her even if it was only intended lightheartedly.
“Do’ya have family, Vern? A Mummah and’a Pumpah?” She asked quietly with droopy eyes looking into his own.
He turned around and layed back down onto the sand, sticking his hands under his head, staring up into the slowly brightening sky. “I do. Brothers and sisters too, but I moved far away from them…I haven’t seen any of them in seven years.”
As he spoke, Zee mirrored his pose, laying down adjacent to him on the sand. The hair on her head just barely grazed against his hood, with their elbows brushing against each other’s. “Why’d ya leave? We’re ya angry?” Her voice carried a hint of concern.
“No. Well not entirely. I know my family loves me, it's just, they were always so stifling and overprotective…I guess that just happens when you’re the youngest child.”
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Zee let out another long yawn. “I getcha. I’m the eldest Shishter, I alwaysh gotsta look after the lil gobbsh. Ish my job’ta protect em.”
“Haha, so that’s what it’s like from the other side.” He sighed. “I always wanted freedom over security. So when I hit my eighteenth year, I left. Traveled as far as I could until I hit the kingdom’s border, settling down here in Vickwood. I still write letters from time to time, but I usually keep to myself these days.”
She sleepily smacked her lips before responding in a dozy voice. “Ya should go shee em one day. I’m shure they’d like that.”
“Yeah. Maybe I should.” He couldn’t keep a smile from stretching across his face as he thought about visiting home. Wondering how much his family had changed, and how much they’d think he changed too. “...Maybe I should…”
They were both quiet for a few moments before Vern spoke up again. “Hey, you never told me why you were upset with your mom and d-”
He was cut off by a loud snore coming from the goblin, enough to make him flinch and sit up. Twisting around to look at her he saw her head lolled to the right, mouth agape as she sucked in another breathfull of air, snoring loudly as she did. He let out an amused chuckle before laying back down, interlocking his fingers together and laying his hands on his chest.
“‘Family is your space’ huh?” He whispered. Before drawing his attention to the last glimmers of starlight, fading away into the dawn.
***
The morning’s sun shone high as a few puffy clouds lazily drifted across the sky pushed along by the warm summer’s breeze. Vern and Zee made their way north to Breaker’s ridge after agreeing to meet back there with reinforcements the previous night. A long, folded up leather pouch tucked under his right arm as he marched his way back up the small incline, Zee closely trailing behind.
As they reached the small summit overlooking the ridge, they could see a wagon in the distance sitting towards the bottom of the eastern slope. A few guards sat in or stood around it, but he couldn't make out any specific individuals from the distance. “Looks like they beat us here.” The ranger declared, pointing across the way.
“The rude lady ishnt gonna come back ish she?” Zee dryly remarked.
“Eh, probably. My report alone should suffice for an operation like this, but the deputy captain likes sticking her nose in my business whenever she has an excuse.” He explained as they started their way towards the group.
Zee hopped up next to him, keeping in step as they walked together. “Whatsh her problem wishu anyway?”
“I don’t know. She was always very stuffy and controlling, even back when we were both guard cadets, watching me like a hawk, pointing out every little screw up or mistake I made.
“Ya known’er a while then huh?”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah unfortunately. Usually guard cadets are trained groups, or pairs in smaller forces. She was my training buddy for two miserable months. Then the Captain thought it would be a good idea for us to share posts and patrols for six months after that. Everytime I would forget to polish my armor, or take too long repairing a wagon wheel, or say something a little too rude to a civilian she would be there.”
Zee raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “Did she get mad?”
“No! That's the thing!” His voice raised in pitch and speed as he started getting worked up. “She wouldn’t get angry, yell, or mock me. She would just stare at me, with that LOOK! That narrow-eyed judgemental look like she was just waiting for me to mess up again. Then she’d give me a long winded speech, lecturing me on all the mistakes I’ve made AGAIN! Somehow that always felt worse, like I was being talked down to by someone who was supposed to be my equal. I don’t know how but that woman always gets under my skin.”
“Well, if’ya were doin shomething wrong, isn’t it good fer her to tell ya?” Her voice carried a surprising amount of sympathy for the deputy captain.
“Sure, but it’s not what she did, it’s the way she did it. I knew when I messed up, I knew when I was being a moron. I needed someone to encourage and help me, not act all ‘high and mighty’ like she’s Perfection incarnate.” His face wore a frustrated expression as he recounted all the ways the deputy captain annoyed him, which softened as he continued. “I can understand taking one’s role seriously, especially since she became the deputy…but it’s too much sometimes, even now. As a ranger I’m not under her direct command, In fact I do my best to avoid her.”
Vern stops in place, staring up to look at the clouds before speaking, Zee halts her march too, looking up at him. “Whenever I see her, I see that look. Those eyes staring at me, like she’s waiting for me to mess up again…” He grips the pommel of the plain sword strapped to his side. “And I still do.”
A gust of warm wind whips up, blowing his cloak and ruffling her hair in the breeze. Vern closes his eyes, feeling the breeze on his face as he listens to the rustling grass. It’s only a moment before the wind dies down again.
“Is shounds like she is jusht lookin out for’ya.” Zee suggests, lighty twisting her waist left and right, hands on her hips.
Vern looks down at his restless friend. “You think so?”
“Mmhmph! The tribe eldersh and leadersh like Chief, Boh, Guyah, and othersh can be picky’bout how’ell other goblinsh can do their jobsh, but thash becaush they want ush to be at our besht! Becaush when we do our besht, everyone elsh is better for it!” Her cheery smile matched her warm demeanor as she spoke.
Vern chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Well you got a point. Maybe I wouldn’t be the ranger I am today without it…Still I would’ve rather had a friend instead of an instructor.”
Zee tugged at her lip as she thought. “Well if I’m friendsh with’er, I can help’ya be friendsh with her too!”
“Zee I don’t think tha-”
“Too late! I’m gonna make another human friend today!” She excitedly skips away leaving Vern standing alone.
He watches her for a moment before she stops a ways away, turning around and motioning for him to follow. He dramatically rolls his eyes at her before starting a jog to catch up.