Despite the unfavourable name, the slum district was comfortable for the Munst. A few spells were woven to encourage plant growth in the dim light, and a pseudo forest had cropped up in one corner of the city. Most creatures would simply curl up on the dirt and soil where they were, though some would go to the effort to weave trees together into a shelter.
On the corners sat the group of protestors, jeering out slurs and goading any close enough to hear them, each one filled with bile and hate. At first, they didn’t notice the figure walking toward the settlement. Tunnel vision so complete it took him stepping onto the grass for both sides to notice.
Each Munst took one look, and moved to kneel. A crowd rapidly formed as they all came, one by one, to give their respect before returning to their tasks. Only a few remained knelt, prepared to serve should Mylo require it. The attention of the humans was easily laser-focused on this newcomer, and they moved to approach without stepping onto the grassy terrain, only safe in their paved street.
“Who the hell is this?”
“See those eyes? They ain’t human!”
“Go back to your forest freak! We don’t want your kind here!” Each voice brought with it more and more of their distaste toward the figure who didn’t really seem to pay them any heed and moved to crouch down near the closest Munst. This one was an insectoid with a tough carapace, pincers idly chittering with rapid intensity as they nervously met Mylo’s gaze.
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“” Reaching out with a hand, Mylo offered it casually. Their second eyelids began to work overtime as moisture filled their vision, and the insect took the hand with a nod. A low changing song began to echo from the Munst: a celebration that channelled and fuelled the spell.
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Turning his attention back to the humans, Mylo regarded their dumbstruck gazes. It was not long before they began to back away, lest they risk the ire of the newly empowered one. A human could only take so much ‘Munst’ in one day, and they had clearly reached their limit. Of course, some humans were attracted by the display instead.
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One such blonde-haired human narrowed his eyes as he watched this alien display of howls and yowls inside the self-imposed forest that had grown in their city. One look from Elegard had been more than enough to recognise the figure turning to leave the area. As if sensing his presence, their eyes met.
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“You know I can understand you, right? I took Animology,” barked out Elegard with a hand firmly clutched around his weapon, watching as the figure of his tormented nightmares stepped closer and closer.
“You caught me, sorry about that.” A sheepish smile fell on the dragon’s face. With that said: they pulled down the sleeve hiding their runic tattoo. It was all too easy for Elegard to read and decipher the ruins, done in a fragment of a second. While his stance did relax, a hand remained on his gun.
“…” Forcibly he lowered his hand and took a deep breath in.
“I am glad the injuries upon those monsters were healed,” he started. He paused to rub a hand through his hair and look away. “I had some time to think it over. And I went too far. For over 20 years I’ve lived with this ‘switch’ in my brain for in here and…out there. I owe you one.” Speaking to a creature that could easily kill him was a challenge, and Elegard was no Munst. Time and time again, he’d considered the proper way to have this conversation. In the end, tact was not a skill he was born with.
“Owe…me one? I do not understand the term.” There was a note of confusion in Mylo’s voice as he leaned back idly with a thoughtful look to the sky.
“Oh er…it means I want to do something for you to make up for my mistake,” came the attempt by a soldier to explain a very human term.
“That is…a common thing for your kind? How strange.” Turning his gaze toward the growing forest, he pondered those words.
“We Munst don’t really have a term for what you describe in our tongue. We have the law of trades, where two people agree on an exchange of some sort before enacting it. Otherwise we just…give it if we wish to. I don’t think I entirely understand this ‘owing.’” A soft laugh left him, and Mylo gave a shrug.
“If I were to gift you power, then that would simply be it. I do it because I choose to. I would no sooner expect payment back any more than you expect to pay the air you breathe back for its continued existence.” The very idea of demanding his subjects pay him back was utterly alien to the dragon. The kobolds lived in the mountain because they chose to. The mountain let him live in it because it chose to.
“Look, you don’t need to understand it. Just...Listen. A trade then. I am trading you one favour of your choosing, within reason, for what you did that day.” One step forward, five steps back, but he’d at least made the offer. With a wave of his hand Elegard moved to head away.
“Let’s swap war stories sometime. I bet I’ve got stories even you can’t beat.” A boast that was probably a lie, and yet he continued to walk with his head held high, pausing only briefly to glance back.
“Oh, nearly forgot. There’s a Shade in your forest. Might want to deal with that.” Their second meeting had been just as abrupt and sudden. And yet it was not the human that looked on with fear this time. Golden blood ran cold as Mylo turned and leapt into the air, the concrete cracking underneath him as he flew directly out of the bubble at top speed.
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