Walter laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm. “His name is Flipper. He and I are partners.”
Flipper waved hello.
“Fvwipper?” Tivwo asked, obviously having trouble.
“Flipper,” Walter said slower.
“Vlipper,” Tivwo said again.
“Whisper the sound,” Walter said.
“Flipper,” Tivwo whispered. Her eyes lit up. “I got it!”
“Good job,” Walter said.
“So, what is Flipper?” Tivwo asked.
Walter saw the knight commander turn out of the corner of his eye.
“He’s my partner first and foremost,” Walter said. “But he’s a turtle. They’re a sea animal that hatches their eggs on land.”
“Wow!” Tivwo said. “He is so pretty!”
Flipper preened.
“Don’t get a big head about it,” Walter teased Flipper.
The turtle huffed at him, blowing a bit of Walter’s hair back.
“I am surprised that animal could hold off the daemons,” the knight commander said.
“He’s a great protector,” Walter said, petting Flipper’s shell.
“That he is,” the commander said. “I will be glad to have him protecting the village.”
Walter nodded. He didn’t like how brusque the commander was being about things, but Walter knew he wouldn’t abandon this village if the daemons attacked it. The man had an edge about him, like a well-kept sword.
However, if the daemons did attack, Walter was sure Flipper could hold them off. His gut feeling told him his turtle had enough power to hold off two groups of daemons and the knights with ease. Probably with a flipper tied behind his back while Tivwo fed him a village delicacy.
Though, something about this village was familiar to Walter, which was odd because he knew he’d never been here.
“It is late, my fire,” Turum said to Tivwo. “You should get sleep.”
“But I want to ask Vwalter about Flipper!” the girl complained.
“Vwalter needs his sleep as well,” Turum countered.
She looked over at Walter, who got the hint. He stretched his arms wide and yawned. “She’s right. I need to get some sleep.”
“Aww,” Tivwo complained.
“We can talk more in the morning,” Walter said. “I’ll be here for a bit to make sure you’re all safe.”
“You mean it?” Tivwo asked.
“Of course,” Walter agreed.
Tivwo gave Walter a quick hug. “Goodnight!”
Walter returned it, grateful for the interaction. “Goodnight.”
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Walter couldn’t find it in himself to feel tired. Maybe it was something to do with his newfound powers, but sleep wouldn’t come to him. The same could be said of Flipper, and the two found themselves awake in a world of dreamers.
The two companions stayed as quiet as possible while everyone slept, communicating through their shared connection. Walter and Flipper learned to refine their emotions, eventually sending over more and more complex feelings. The whole time, Walter kept thinking about the daemons.
Sod hadn’t warned him about these attackers. Meaning the god didn’t know or didn’t think they would be a problem. Walter assumed it was the latter, especially considering how easy Flipper took them out.
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It still would have been nice to have a warning. Walter thought to Flipper.
Flipper shrugged, sending along nonchalance.
Walter sighed. He knew they weren’t a threat, but there was still something about the daemons. Perhaps it was their twisted souls. They were so much like the knights—the only real difference being the cracked and warped feeling.
If only he could ask Davy or Sod, but Walter doubted one of them would just appear because he thought about it.
Bah, I’m not that powerless. Davy’s voice echoed in Walter’s head.
Walter almost jolted upright.
Lad, you need to stop getting surprised by every little thing. Davy’s voice echoed.
“How are you talking to me,” Walter whispered.
Just think the words, lad. You don’t need to say anything. Same way you talk to your turtle. And it’s not hard to hear the only voice callin’ out to me on this world.
Like this? Walter asked.
You got it. Now, what did you need?
Walter retold his day to Davy.
Never heard of those stray souls before. But they sound like ghosts from your world.
Walter’s eyes widened. Ghosts are real?
Sure. There’s always one or two souls that get lost in transit. But enough about Earth. You need help with Sod’s ghosts.
Walter stared at the dark ceiling as Davy talked.
Good news is Flipper can deal with any small ghost comin’ at ya.
Flipper beamed at the praise. Walter smiled at his friend and gave him a small pat on the shell.
It seems you got a good idea of what to do then, lad. Davy said. Just keep doing what you’re doing.
Walter sighed. Can’t you give me any extra help?
My advice would be to take them out now, but I know you won’t listen. Davy said.
Walter nodded.
Well, I doubt you’ll regret your choice. But don’t get so caught up in doing the right thing that you do nothing, okay?
Walter shifted uncomfortably. Davy’s words pricked at Walter.
I’ll try.
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Turum didn’t know what to make of Vwalta, the strange man accompanying the knights. He wasn’t a scholar, she could tell. He didn’t have that air of superiority about him. She watched how humble he was interacting with Tivwo and the others. The man always offered to help while patrolling, and many of the women were touched by his evident generosity.
It was possible he was from the continent of gods, but Turum knew god’s messengers preached wherever they went. The last messenger that arrived thanked the god of light for the sunrise every hour, much to everyone’s irritation.
That left the kingdoms, and Vwalta certainly wasn’t from any kingdom on the continent. For one thing, the way the man dressed was like nothing Turum had seen. He wore pants like the tax collectors that came by every harvest but out of a sturdier material. And his shirt was a material softer than anyone had laid their hands on. Turum almost felt ashamed touching the material with her rough hands.
It hardly seemed like he was a person at all. Vwalta’s body was squarer than the others, yet he was skinnier than the other men in the village. His red-brown hair and blue eyes set against pale, freckled skin gave him a fantastical appearance. Never in her life had Turum seen anyone so strange-looking.
Turum debated using her sense on the man, despite the breach of privacy. Tivwo’s obvious trust in Vwalta made her wary. There was so much in the world her daughter had yet to experience. The world was harsher than the girl knew. However, Turum wasn’t going to be the one to put out her daughter’s fire.
Best to let her stay happy for as long as possible.
Turum went back to work, stringing together a new basket for the knights. They would need something to hold food while they waited for the messengers to return.
That is, if any messenger made it past the daemons.
Tushen clapped his hands, attracting everyone’s attention to the central fire. “Everyone! After thinking about it over the night, I have decided to hold a festival for our arrivals who are so graciously protecting us.”
Turum frowned at the disgusting half-smile coming from the man’s lips. It was his cowardice that let things get this bad, and now he wanted to curry favor by using their meager stores to hold a party?
“You don’t have to do that for us,” Vwalta said. “Flipper and I are more than happy to help another in need.”
Turum almost laughed aloud at Tushen’s frozen face. It seems he hadn’t expected such a direct refusal. Vwalta seemed more humble than even the humblest of priests and scholars, helping out wherever he could while refusing all hospitality. Another strange thing to see in this village so far from the center of the kingdom. Often those who appeared here were the corrupt, young, or stubborn.
“A celebration is appropriate after the daemons are vanquished,” the knight captain agreed.
Tushen’s face darkened, and Turum paled. She quickly looked for Tivwo, to hide her just in case the elder’s eyes met her daughter’s. There was no telling what Tushen would do when he was in one of his moods. He wouldn’t do it in public, but there was no telling what went on behind closed doors.
But the emotion left the elder’s face a moment later, replaced by a scheming smirk he quickly replaced with a half-smile. “Then, allow us to hold a party to boost our morale. I know that you brave knights will succeed, but us humbler folk require more than just assurance.”
The knight thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I see no reason to refuse.”
Vwalta agreed as well, despite Turum’s hopes for the contrary. It was apparent that Tushen would use this party to brownnose the knights, hoping to attain a higher position and leave this village for good. She might have considered it a good thing if not for her fear of Tushen’s wrath when he failed.
And the man would fail. He wasn’t even half the schemer he believed himself to be--and twice as incompetent at that.
Tushen clapped his hands again. “Excellent! Everyone, let us prepare for a party!”