***
In the morning, Bo and Ryan awakened and spent another day talking. And another after that.
“What are we waiting for?” Ryan finally asked in the afternoon of the third day. Bo was sitting and staring at nothing in particular, and Ryan paced aimlessly around the fire.
“A delivery,” was all Bo said.
“Well that’s specific,” Ryan replied, looking to Bo expectantly.
“And it’s as specific as you’ll get until it arrives,” Bo replied, unwrapping his now-healed hand and throwing the cloth strip into the fire. Ryan sighed and returned to pacing.
The following morning, just before dawn, the two were awakened by a distant racket. Moving out to inspect the area, they found a few pallets of wood. More than enough for the house Bo had had in mind, in fact. You outdid yourself, Bo thought to Dayo as he felt a stuffiness return to his head, crossing his arms. He stared at the pile of wood and Ryan’s inquisitive inspection of it.
“Why, thank you. I thought you would appreciate the amount I’d supplied. There are tools on top of the southernmost stack, by the way,” Dayo replied, a strange lilt in his voice. “I also took the liberty of getting you a door.”
Are you…pleased with yourself? Bo thought, amused with the dragon.
“Yes I am,” Dayo stated plainly. “I don’t see why not: it was hard work to supply all of that wood.”
Glad you’ve nothing better to do.
“I have many better things to do,” the dragon replied haughtily. Then, more calm, “But, allies take priority. Tentative friends, even higher. Besides, I could not have you two finding some abandoned house and taking it over like a fox finding an open den.”
Thanks.
“Oh, my apologies,” Dayo said, a flash of heat running through Bo as the dragon shared his embarrassment. “I forgot about your mother.”
Maybe you should stop talking.
“Right. I will speak with you again soon, Boelik,” Dayo said, and Bo’s head cleared out. He shook his head and sighed, uncrossing his arms.
“Come on, Ryan,” he said, sidling over to the southernmost stack of wood. “I’m going to teach you some carpentry.”
Ryan stood from a crouch where he’d been examining a moth on one of the stacks of wood. “Carpentry?” he asked, tilting his head a little, and Bo gave a good-natured sigh.
“Grab some wood and the tools on top there,” Bo said with a gesture to the pile. “We have a house to build.”
In a matter of several weeks, the two managed to finish their new home. At first, Ryan was absolutely useless with tools. Bo couldn’t even count how many times he had to yell at the boy to be careful, or how many times Ryan hit his own fingers with the tools or the wood, or how many times Ryan cursed like a sailor. Or even how many times he swung a board around and accidentally hit Bo with it. And Bo often had to have Ryan do his part in a day over again…or just do it over again himself.
Now, the two stood back from their cabin. Sweat plastered their hair to their heads in the cool, late-autumn evening, and leaves scuttled along the ground in the slight breeze. Bo put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Slower than I would have liked,” he admitted. “But it still looks fairly decent.”
“What do you think?” Ryan asked, turning his head just enough that Bo could see the human side of his face, his blue eye glinting. “Would you hire me?”
“No.” After a moment he added, “But, you did improve.”
Ryan stared at his hands, covered in healing wounds. “It was very painful.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you try to rush with tools. They bite back. Time for supper?” Ryan nodded.
“I’m starving,” he gushed.
They sat by a fire and cooked a rabbit that they caught in a snare. As they ate, Bo decided it was high time he talked with Ryan about their next goal. “Ryan,” he said after swallowing a mouthful of meat.
“Hrm?” Ryan blinked blankly at Bo, his voice muffled by his own food.
“You haven’t really used your abilities much, have you?”
“Abilities?” Ryan asked, gulping down his rabbit. Juice dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away with his sleeve. That reminded Bo—they’d soon need new clothes.
“The ones your demon blood gives you. Your speed, your sight, whatever extra power you may have gained.”
“Oh,” Ryan said. “Well, not really.”
“I think it’s time I taught you to use them.”
Ryan cast his eyes to the ground. Quietly, Bo heard him say, “But I don’t even want them. Do I have to use them?”
“Yes. They are yours, and you control them. You can’t let them control you out of fear, or any other reason. That’s why I want—need—to teach you how to use them,” Bo explained.
“Now?” Ryan peeked up at him from where he had his head lowered, like a guilt-ridden pup.
“No, not now. But we start tomorrow.”
“All right,” he sighed.
That night, Bo stared up at the dark ceiling, the scent of new wood swirling around him and Ryan’s breathing filling the otherwise silent air as his warm presence slept beside him. The only thing that reminded Bo that he wasn’t alone anymore.
As he reminisced on his past, Bo felt his head get full of cotton. Now a familiar sensation. Dayo? he thought.
“Hello, Boelik.”
Checking in again?
“Are you training yet?”
Oddly convenient that you asked that tonight, because I just told Ryan we’d begin playing with his abilities tomorrow.
“I thought as much. I have ears in many places, you know.”
What, do you commune with crows?
“No. I just happen to be friends with a few ravens.”
All right then.
“Besides that, I bear some dark news.” Dayo’s tone was low now, and Bo’s blood ran cold.
What is it?
“I have been monitoring demon levels for a long time now. They’ve been steadily on the rise, and recently they’ve seemed to simply be…appearing.”
What do you mean, ‘appearing’? Out of thin air, or what? Popping out of the ground like daisies?
“I’m not sure, which is half of the dilemma. Normally, when one pops up, I can discern where it came from, or at least what from. But now…they seem to simply manifest. I have a very bad feeling about it.”
How does it look around here?
“Ireland seems to be fairly safe for the moment. There are some on the continent, but not as many as on the more densely populated ones. The more humans, the more demons are around. But they do seem to be multiplying exponentially, so be cautious.”
But, Dayo, how can they be populating so fast without reason? I don’t believe that I understand the circumstances.
“Boelik… how old are you?”
What? Bo hesitated for a moment before answering, the question catching him off guard. I suppose…about four hundred and thirty-six, now. Why? What does that have to with anything?
Bo heard Dayo sigh. “Four hundred and thirty-six. We are both old men. And we will both be very old men to join in what I expect to come.”
Dayo, explain to me what the devil you are talking about.
Dayo sighed once more, the sound heavy in Bo’s head. “In nearly two hundred and fifty years, if I gather correctly, the charge I told you of will be born. That one will be accompanied by another; and if that companion is what I have seen it to be, we will have much blood on our hands.” His voice became lower and distant, as though he were speaking to himself, “The rivers themselves will run red…”
Why? Dayo, explain it to me already! I am growing fed up with your speaking in riddles.
“Boelik. I will explain what I feel comfortable in knowing,” Dayo finally said. “Every thousand years, demons and other creatures known as morphers come together and battle to keep the balance. When the demons win, the world is cast into darkness and morphers have to fight to regain the world’s balance. Whe
n the morphers win, equilibrium is achieved and demons fall into something of a rarity.”
Morphers? Bo thought in a pause in Dayo’s speech.
“Yes. They are protectors: they keep demon-kind from running rampant. They are creatures with—normally—two forms, typically one of a human and another of an animal.”
Okay? How, exactly?
“This world is full of magic, Boelik, if you look for it. Not just parlor tricks. You should know this as well as anyone.”
What does all of this have to do with these charges and the demons? Bo asked, though he was getting an idea.
“Boelik, there is another thing. This companion to your strange charge will be a morpher destined to lead the army of such.” There was a pause, and in the instant Bo thought of the answer to his question, Dayo said it. “The thousand years are almost over.