The Kalopsian Wave

Scrump spat squelchingly on the flames. 

“Gods, I wish you would stop doing that” I seethe through bites of mutton. 

“WHAAAA??” says Scrump screwing up his eyebrows and face like a cute, warty, green, confused squirrel. 

Scrump is a little goblin guy that got mauled by a griffon when he was a little baby and tragically abandoned by his tribe because he was so stupid (even for a goblin)  from the whole getting mauled by a Griffon thing. I theorize that that’s why he doesn’t think too good and is amused by dumb stuff such as embers sizzling when he spits on them. 

The gods though… they gave him a  gift… a gift of an amazing sense of direction. 

I bought Scrump for 6 pittance at the corner market in bandit town, he was half off! It’s not like he is my slave or anything, he is more like my little brother that I adopted to do a job that I have a specific need for. 

I’m on week 3 wandering through the abandoned woods and I’m beginning to lose hope on finding the Shrine of Melianita, a magical shrine that will fulfill your heart’s desire. 

Luckily for me and Scrump I am an amazing hunter, having prioritized learning how to trap, hunt, skin animals and pelts, and forage for berries and nuts and stuff in the wooded glen near my village instead of playing with dolls and dresses like the other girls. Gods, what a waste of time that is-twirling around in flouncy gowns and playing house. I was out skinning my knees with the neighborhood boys, rough-housing and fishing by the creek. I find this way of life more rewarding, more valuable. The other girls would scream if they saw a worm, meanwhile I would eat them for breakfast. 

And I’m certainly happy I crafted these skills as a child because I am such a good hunter now. Even though the Abandoned Woods are known to be expert level hunting grounds, I navigate their foliage with ease, nimbly flitting under roots and tree branches just like how a beautiful horse gracefully leaps over bars in horse jumping dexterity competitions. I have yet to miss the eye on every single rabbit I have shot. Scrump has a new rabbit fur-coat, I’m that good. At least I have some skills to make up for how ugly and hideous I look with my one blue eye and one gold.

“Hakablaka Blekoo???” Scrump says back up to me with his big bloodshot eyes. 

“No buddy! You have to finish your meal and then go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“GWLEEE!” Shrieks Scrump and throws the rest of his rabbit leg in the fire, scattering embers everywhere. A coal skitters over to my pack, singing the soft leather. 

“UGHH! SCRUMP!” I yell, jump over to stamp out the flame. “You ruined my bag, you bog brain!”

But he isn’t listening, so wrapped up in despair he throws himself face-down on the stone slab he was sitting on, shrieking and thrashing. 

“Scrump! Shhh! We need to be quiet! There could be monsters in here, we need to be careful! Someone could hear us!”

I try consoling him, but after a few minutes I could hardly handle it. “Okay! Okay! You can keep spitting in the fire! See if I care!” but it made no difference; in fact he screamed even louder. 

Nothing is working. I am so tired from traveling that I couldn’t stand it anymore. Instinctively I raised my hand to strike him, hoping it would shut him up, but stopped mid-air.

No… I promised myself I wouldn’t be like my father. 

“I thought we were going to have a problem for a second there, gorgeous.” 

My blood ran cold. At once Scrump stopped his shrieking and became transfixed with something behind me. 

The hairs on the back of my neck raised as I felt a presence … and a sweet smell. Ale, salt, vanilla and righteous justice of iron. I was frozen… Could it really be him?

It has been 6 months since that night in the tavern. Since then I’ve been kicked from the Beggars Guild for inciting that riot in the tavern. Heh, it is their fault though for not appreciating a classic raucous bar fight. 

“Don’t think I ever got your name…” His hot breath grumbles in my ear as his warm fingers wrap around the wrist of my raised hand. I can feel his electric 6’2 presence right behind me. Gulp!

“Caroline,” I squawk out hoarsely “and what is yours?” I reply.

“Tsk Tsk” he Tsk’ed in my ear, “you just broke the first rule everyone learns before wandering into The Abandoned Woods.”

“And what is that?” I feel his other arm begin curling around my scrawny, waifish waist. 

“You never give your name out to any stranger that asks,” He spins me around, my body flush to his, “you might not get it back.” It was the first time I’ve seen his face in 6 months; and it was just as astonishingly chiseled and stubbled with a smirky smoky grin as it was before when I first met him, back to that iconic night when the brute shit his pants from pure, primal fear. That coward! 

I feel a lump form in my throat. I refuse to be a coward like him.

“Not my problem, I don’t need my name anyway” I scrunch my eyebrows. 

“Of course you don’t,” he strokes a piece of hair from my gold eye “probably because it’s not your real name” 

The lump in my throat doubles in size as a hot wave of fear and.. Something else I can’t place… washes over me. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and anyway you didn’t answer my question’ I blurted out with forced breath. 

“I know you’re just a human, so it won’t matter if I give you my name” he smirks smugly down at me “and you don’t have to worry about your fake name, Caroline, I am not the type of God to take it from you”

Did he just say he was a God? 

“D-i-di-di-di-id you just say y-y-y-y-ou are a God?” I stammer out he smirks out of his already smirky smug mouth. 

“I am, you gorgeous little thing; and I’m the best kind” 

“And what kind is that?” I ask, my eyes transfixed on his mouth

“The drunk kind” he smirks back, and pulls my flask out from behind me, he must have nicked it from my bag. 

Unscrewing the top, he fills three tankards that appeared out of nowhere expertly, each handle loosely fitted in his fingers, as if he had spent years practicing the motion. 

“Where did those come from? And where did that meade come from? My flask has been long empty, and it had spirits in it last I checked?”

“Tsk Tsk” he Tsk’d again “you really don’t listen too well, do you…Princess Catalina?”

TO BE CONTINUED…