“‘At last, a general of the Demon Lord appeared before the Hero on his journey.’”
“Arwf, arwf. (Uh-huh.) ”
As we lie on the bed, the young lady reads a book to me. Another part of the legend of the hero Routa. She really likes this book, doesn’t she?
“‘The general was named Carmilla, the vampire princess. She was a terrible demon who drank the blood of pure boys and girls. She would appear in villages and towns after night fell, striking fear into the hearts of the people. Anyone whose blood was sucked by Carmilla turned into a mindless thrall who worshiped her. She had personally brought several countries to ruin that way…’ Eek, this is scary.”
The young lady hugs me tightly.
“Arwf. (Ooh, vampire kinks? That’s pretty high level.) ”
“Squeak. (What are you saying? She may not understand you, but your replies are still utterly nonsensical.) ” Len interrupts as she sits on top of Lady Mary’s head, reading the book with her.
“Arwf, arwf. (I would have thought this hero’s legend was just a fairy tale. But I see monsters like these all the time.) ”
What was that one called—Lich, the necromancer? I feel bad for him since we ate all his bones, but if we’d left him to his own devices, it would’ve been bad news for the rest of the world.
“Squeak. (Well, I’m sure mere humans wouldn’t have been strong enough for that. Those pitiable fools should be far more thankful for your rescue.) ”
Please, no. If that happened, my comfy life as a pet would be all over.
“Arwf, arwf. (But why would they be showing up now? Didn’t this legend happen a thousand years ago? Len, do you remember anything from back then?) ”
“Squeak, squeak. (Hmm. A thousand years ago, I was still a newborn dragon. In general, I never left that cave in the waterfall.) ”
So she’s a natural shut-in? From birth?
“Squeak, squeak… (My father or mother may know something, but I haven’t seen them since they left me in my infancy. The only ones I had to talk to were the odd mouse or bat that would take up shelter in the cave…) ”
This is painful just to listen to. Maybe when Len chose to transform into a mouse, it was because that was the only thing she could think of when using the technique, where mental image was important.
Brrr. I feel so bad for calling her a friendless, thousand-year-old spinster shut-in that I think I’m gonna cry.
“Squeak! (You’re thinking something rude again!) ”
“Woof, woof. (I was not. I was just pitying you. With everything I had.) ”
“Squeak! (I have done nothing deserving of pity! If you would pity me, I would rather you mate with me instead!) ”
I’ll have to decline.
The young lady yawns. “I’m too sleepy now. Let’s continue tomorrow.”
“Woof, woof. (It’s not good to stay up late. Let’s hit the hay!) ”
“Squeak. (It is time for children to sleep. Have a good rest.) ”
The mineral lamp’s gentle light fades, and until the young lady falls asleep, I play the part of a hug pillow.