84 Oasis (1/2)

Wooden mugs loosed a dulled clink as Li and Old Thane cheered for the end of their planting. They sat at the field's edge where the grass grew thick enough to use like a makeshift cushion. Their shirts, thickly woven and patched over with countless repairs, were littered with dirt stains. Dirt seemed to cling everywhere, to every little iota of their being, caking under their fingernails, gathering in the furrows of their fingerprints and in the lines of their palms, and staining across their faces.

But such was the farming life, and to Li, the dirt was proof that he was living.

The demon hound lay between them, his shaggy black chest heaving up and down. Beside Zagan, the Myrmeke's antennae raised above the ground, enjoying everyone's company. The wyrm, however, stood a few meters away, anxiously pacing about.

”A good beer is a mighty fine tool to slake a thirst borne from a day's honest work,” said Old Thane as he took a sip, a little moustache of foam bubbling above his cracked lips.

”Sad thing is the keg you is all out after taking a beating from triple threat showing up and the fact that you seem to be drinking a lot more these days.” Li rolled his shoulders, more out of habit than need because his muscles never really ached in his new body. ”I'll have to make a trip to the marketplace and get another one. Or have my assistant do it.”

”She works mighty hard,” said Old Thane. ”Even now, she dutifully runs that stand in your absence. And yet we've seen so little of her. We should let her know that her job is not a thankless one.”

”I thank her enough. I know it doesn't sound like much, but to her, it does mean a lot.” Li nodded. ”She wouldn't like big celebrations, either. It's not in her character.”

Especially not with mortals. To Li, it seemed like she was just waiting for him to assume his role as a guardian and did not particularly wish to involve herself with any of his mortal connections. But still, he would ask her if she wanted to be more involved with the farm and its people later during their training – the first session of which was scheduled for the evening which drew nearer and nearer as the sun's rays became less golden and more orange.

”And you, why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Li turned back to the wyrm, waving at it to come closer. The creature trembled, wanting to go to Li, but her legs were firmly rooted into the grass, preventing her from getting closer. Her eyes shifted from Li to Zagan.

”The runt knows its place,” said Zagan even while he laid down in a perfect image of sunbaked laziness. ”Demons are apex predators, so far above lowly mortal ilk that the only worthy prey we hunt is other demons. Dragonkin may play at the hunt, of consuming and evolving, but their primal instincts know that they will always be inferior to us.”

”So you're scared of him,” said Li. He reached out and put a comforting hand on the wyrm's head. In that moment, he could feel a spark tingle across his skin, transferring from the wyrm's head to his hand. He could distinctly feel how much the wyrm relied on him, how she saw him as her anything and everything, her protector and guardian.

It was pure faith.

Li's next words were not thought out. They seemed to flow from him like water. ”Do not worry, child. So long as you place your faith in me, you will always have the strength to face this world.”

The wyrm may not have understood the meaning of Li's words, but she could feel them, know that they spoke of safety and warmth and security, and fought off its survival instincts to near Li and nuzzle up next to him.

”It seems the runt has potential,” commented Zagan. One of his red eyes were open, glancing lazily at the wyrm. ”To overcome the fear of death at this young an age is an impressive feat.” The demon closed his eye and sighed. ”Or perhaps it is my presence that has dulled such that it no longer cows even an infant.”

”Not so,” said Old Thane. ”When you speak, demon, your words are like blades. They speak of danger. Of a promised death cold and swift. I have fought many of your kind, but even now, I know that your presence stands out among all others.”

”Because you only faced down the rabble, mortal. But it is good that you acknowledge the greatness of my personage.” Zagan let out a contented sigh.

Li looked over at Zagan and Old Thane talking so casually. There was a great difference between them, of course, one created from so many differences that it would be hard to list them, and yet they managed to talk together, even find solace with each other, through these differences. This would have never happened had Li not united them under the banner of the farm.

The ground around Li shifted a little as the Myrmeke's antennae shifted forwards, twitching for Li to pet it as it sensed that he was doing so with the wyrm. Li obliged. He could feel the wyrm curled up in a ball, its head draped across his knee, and he welcomed the wyrm into the farm and its strange family with a few pets.

Li nodded to himself as he looked around the farm, at the fields that had been freshly plowed and planted through. The cottage that stood as humble and firm as ever, excepting the new hole in its side. The stall that breathed out faint green wisps of smoke from its chimney as Iona worked, using experience gained from decades of learning and suffering and teaching.

Then he looked at Old Thane, an old man that had lost everything, only waiting for death on a farm haunted by memories of the past. At Zagan, a former demon general who in his quest to either become or serve the strongest, had ended up spending idle days sleeping in the sun. He watched as they talked of a past unrelated to the farm, almost a world away, when war and terror and chaos reigned supreme.