Innocence

The little one was bored.

They had stopped close to a brook, the roaring of waterfalls echoing everywhere in the cool air. The water splashed and burbled and gurgled down the gentle stream, through wet grass and smooth rock to the distant woods in the hillside. Enormous dragonflies darted and weaved above little pools and backwaters. It was so peaceful and quiet, and his siblings had opted to stay here, to doze under the warm sun until their last meal had been digested.

But the little one didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to play. He tumbled and frolicked in the bountiful rushes close to the water, waved a fallen branch he had found like it was some deadly spear, hummed absent-mindedly in drool-sprinkling raspberries. Some feet away were his brothers, napping lazily on a great clump of lichen-encrusted rocks. The little one looked at them disapprovingly. If only they joined him…then this wouldn’t be so dull…

He was pulled from his thoughts by a splashing behind him. He immediately turned back, long tail high in the air. Something had beached in the water’s edge!

But…what was it? At first it reminded him of a fish, but he had never seen one go out of the water. Then he thought it was another like him or his brothers, or a centaur or sphinx, returning from a quick bath.

No, it is something in-between.

The thing rose on its hands, seeming to take a better look at the little one. It was a boy, all right, maybe close to his age, and somewhat larger. Bony and tanned of skin, with curious yellow eyes and moss-like hair that seemed to have dried as soon as it had emerged. The rest of him was elongated, smooth, without scales or clawed limbs like the little one has. It had the colour of silver, with black spots all over, and so shiny under the sunlight it was almost blinding.

The little one couldn’t help but just stand there, staring at this creature, and it stared back at him, a surprisingly cheery smile on its face. Timidly he waves at it, utters a few simple words. That is no good. The creature simply tilts its head to a side, still smiling.

It doesn’t seem to be dangerous, the little one thought. He stepped forward a tiny bit, and then, slow and tentatively, he reached out his hand. To his amazement, the creature did the same, and both hands touched.

A friend! The little one has a friend outside his siblings!

He turned back in a heartbeat and started yelling at them, full of joy and excitement. They had to see, they had to meet his new friend! His brothers stand up, with sleepy faces but all attention.

The answer is not what the little one expected. Their faces quickly turned into confusion, and then gave way to shock. Hroth shouted in a panicked voice, told the little one to stay away. What was the problem?

Before he could guess it, the same hand that touched him had seized his arm. He tried to turn around, and small needle-like teeth sank on his shoulder.

He was being tugged! His new friend was dragging him to the water! He is going to be food! Loudly he began to scream in his little voice, and he pulled and punched and struggled, but the creature was stronger than he thought, and it kept rippling towards the stream. Its smile was now showing sharp, bloody teeth. This was not right! This was not how it should have happened! Help! Someone, help!!

Fortunately, his brothers had already rushed towards the stream, and they arrived just in time. A heavy blow slammed on the creature’s face, and the little one was ripped from its grasp and into the safety of Aeglac’s arms. As his brother checked him for wounds, he watched Hroth and Dryrm beat the now bright-red fiend, its screeches of rage answered with punches and claw swipes and the most hideous of threats.

In the end, however, it managed to wriggle back to the brook. With terrified anger the little one watched it slip into the cold water, beyond the menacing gestures of his big brothers. A flip of that tail fin, and it was gone, swimming downstream.

He was suddenly hit with a light smack behind his head. Aeglac was now scolding him for his irresponsibleness. How many times must he be told to not stray too far?

He probably deserved that. It was wrong of him to try in the first place, the little one considered. And after all, his brothers were always right. Because no matter if they flied or leaped or swam or crawled or slithered, to the little one they would never be anything but enemies

A good story indeed.