Bibrid and Wraithvine take the children to get something that scares poor Chance. To get inoculated against illnesses. -- BKF
Bibrid learned quickly to match his footsteps to Chance's once they were inside the town's walls. The young Hellkin was supremely clingy, seeming to fear being torn away from their only security. So he clung to his adopted child and moved in step with the poor suffering kid.
And, in this case, halted cold on their approach to the temple of Lenus. Chance buried their face in Bibrid's shoulder and whimpered.
Knowing Chance as he did, Bibrid gently pulled them both away from the temple, into a small area apart from the streams of the crowd. "There now," Bibrid cooed. "Use your words, eh? Tell Papa what's the matter."
Papa. Weeks ago, he had never thought of calling himself Papa. Especially not to anyone with a lifespan that was a fraction of a Dragon's. Now, no other world was possible. Bibrid knew that Chance's lifetime was an eyeblink to an immortal like himself, but that didn't stop him loving or caring all the same.
Chance, as always in times of stress, went minimally verbal. "Bad," they said. "Hurts. Hate."
"You hate?" asked Bibrid.
Chance shook their head.
Meanwhile, Scramble had a similar attack of anxiety, backpedalling as soon as he noticed that Wraithvine was heading inside the temple. "No, no, no, no... nuh-uh. No. People die in there."
Chance pointed without looking.
"You believe they'll hate you and kill you," interpreted Bibrid.
Nod.
"I won't let them," said Bibrid. "We've come here to help protect you. And Scramble. They're going to work a spell on you that will prevent nasty sicknesses. It will hurt, but it's just a tiny little wound."
"Bibrid and I will get it too," offered Wraithvine, also an immortal who had no fear of disease. "They poke you with an ivory needle, utter some words, and you're protected forever after. I promise, we will all walk out of the temple."
"And get honey cakes with cream and compote," added Bibrid. There was nothing like a sweet treat for emboldening the young ones, and Chance was heavily food-motivated.
"And small ale[1]?" Chance was bold enough to say a complete sentence. A heartening change in the little Hellkin.
"And a small ale," agreed Bibrid. "You can hold my hand the whole time."
Chance had a very strong grip and sharp fingernails. Bibrid didn't mind them one bit.
[1] Soft drinks before modern carbonation.
[Photo by Nick Cheng on Unsplash]
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