I once heard from my parents that it was hard for a half-elf to gain equal treatment living among humans, or even elves. Half-elves were beautiful, skilled, and lived long lives, yet not to the same extent as elves. Their only options were to stand in their natural place at the top of society, be placed at the bottom, or distance themselves entirely and live as hermits. Too exceptional to be a human and too quickly maturing to be an elf, it was hard for them to be treated as equals in either society. Menel’s past had unfortunately followed the same pattern.
When Mary, Blood, and Gus dropped by the village and heard the situation, they had differing opinions. As the story went, Mary was strongly in favor of rescuing her, Blood asked if Mary planned on raising her as well and where the hell the money was going to come from, and Gus remained silent in contemplation.
It felt to me as though the actual conversation had probably been similar, but slightly different. The personalities the characters had in the story felt slightly off, particularly where Gus and Blood were concerned, and especially with respect to Gus’s fixation on money.
In any case, what ended up happening was that Blood gathered the villagers together and told them, “We can kill the wyvern. Is there anyone who can pay? Would you like to pay money to have the wyvern killed?”
A stir ran through the crowd of villagers, and their only response was silence. As things stood, the villages were functioning. What would happen if this failed and the wyvern was only injured and became enraged? And supposing they succeeded, adventurers who could kill a wyvern would command an enormous sum in reward money. Did they really want to go so far to save the sacrifices?
Amid the silence, Blood clucked his tongue and headed back to their lodging, leaving Mary with the words, “See that? That’s reality.”
But that night, the three were visited by a poor farm boy. The boy, who by the looks of it hadn’t been taught any manners, gruffly held out several coins for them to take: copper coins coated in verdigris, and silver coins with worn-down edges and blackened faces. He didn’t speak, but these were clearly the boy’s entire savings.
Blood said, “You want us to fight a wyvern for this pittance?”
But Gus snatched the coins from the boy’s hand, took a good, long look at the dirty currency, which didn’t even have a hint of a shine, and said, “Ohh, yes, this is good money. Look at how it sparkles.”
I was sure that was word for word what he said because I could visualize the scene as clear as day.
“Don’t you agree, Mary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more, Gus. We’ve been given something very special.”
“Mm. And I think, in light of the fact that we have received something of such value...”
“We’ll have to do our job, won’t we?” Mary smiled warmly, softly.
Blood scratched his head in frustration. “Goddamned softies. Working for nothing,” he muttered.
Then, the boy stepped up to Blood and proclaimed, “If it’s not enough, I’ll pay with myself. You saw them. No one here’d have the guts to come after me if you took me away. Sell me to a slave dealer or whatever you want.”
“You ain’t worth jack,” Blood said, returning him a hard stare.
The boy didn’t look away.
Blood broke into a broad smile. “Heh. So you do have guts. Guess even runts can be warriors.” He cast his eyes over the boy. "I’m a warrior, too. And when one of us warriors swallows his pride and asks for help, we oughta support each other. So... what the hell." He ruffled the boy’s hair, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get it done.”
“Yes.”
“Mm.”
And the three took on the wyvern.
The wyvern soared. It flew fast against the wind, acting as if the sky was all its own. It was thinking that today was about the day for its food to get placed on the field at the base of the mountain. It was simpleminded, but it had enough intelligence to roughly follow the passage of time.
There was a simple altar in the field, and by it stood the sacrifice, wearing a veil and with her head lowered towards the ground. The creature swooped down, intent on devouring her.
At that moment, the wyvern was knocked back by an expanding wall of light. Rich, golden hair flowed from behind the sacrifice’s veil.
It was Mary.
Without allowing the wyvern a second to recover, Gus appeared from behind the altar and cast the Word of Knotting. The wyvern immediately attempted to withdraw from this unexpected situation, but it had no freedom to resist. In an instant, its wings were magically bound, and it plummeted to earth.
The sound it made as it hit the ground was booming, but the wyvern’s body was tough. It drew a deep breath, preparing to defend itself against its sudden adversaries. Blood raised a war cry and charged, his sword firmly gripped in both hands, ready to strike.
The wyvern breathed fire.
Behind Blood, Mary was praying. Her blessing protected him and scattered the flames. Gus’s fingers drew the Word of Knotting again and again, forbidding the monster flight. The sky denied to it, the wyvern bared its fangs and thrust its head at its attackers. A single swing of Blood’s two-handed sword sent it flying from the rest of its body.
In that instant, did the wyvern’s head realize what had happened to it? Three little “meals”—that was all there had been. And those little meals had killed it. Of course, its consciousness probably faded in a second or less as jets of blood spouted and soaked the earth.
The following day, the villagers came to check on the sacrificial altar and discovered the decapitated corpse of the wyvern, stripped of every part that could be exchanged for cash.
After that, Mary, Gus, and Blood took the poor boy and the half-elf girl with them and headed for a city. There was no place in the village for those two anymore.
Blood asked them what they were going to do, and the boy replied he’d come up with something. Hearing this, Blood gave the boy a dagger to keep with him. It was a magical dagger engraved with Words.
“Old Gus engraved Words on it. It’ll do more for you than most amulets. Every warrior’s gotta have a short sword or a dagger. Can’t show off without one.”
“Please take this, too,” Mary said, handing the girl a bag. “Take care of your bodies, and of each other. I’m sure you have lots of hard times ahead of you, but please, don’t forget how important it is to persevere.”
They looked inside the bag. It was full of silver and copper coins.
They both turned it down as fast as they could. This was more than the reward the boy had paid the three to do the job! The girl protested, too—they couldn’t accept something like this. But Gus shrugged and said, “Hmph. Whoever said I was giving it to you? This is an investment. I’m lending it, nothing more.”
The two tilted their heads to the side in confusion. Lending it?
“Here is what we want from you,” Gus said. “Live hard, increase your wealth, make a name for yourselves. Spread your names far and wide, so wherever they go, they are accompanied by thunderous applause. And when your names reach our ears, that is when we or a delegate we dispatch will come to collect what we lent you, plus interest.”
Then Gus said he would tell them his real name, which they would use as a code word, and to remember it well. And so the boy and the girl learned the name of the Wandering Sage, the name unknown by anyone in this world.
The boy and the girl took each other by the hand and headed to the city together, and the Three Heroes took the main road in search of new adventures. And so, under a blue sky, the tale of the Three Heroes’ Killing of the Wyvern came to an end.
“And there’s a bit of a rumor that comes with this story...” Bee grinned mischievously. “Count Dagger of the Fertile Kingdom... They say his proper surname was Wizardsdagger.” The strings reverberated, the note and the story both lingering pleasantly. “Even today, at the count’s mansion, an old half-elf lady is waiting for the Sage’s delegate.”