#rottencherry

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Fen checked the GPS again. He was definitely in the right place.... So where was the dragon?

He drummed his phalanges on the steering wheel, then with a sigh, he pulled the Jeep off the main road and hid it amongst the shrubbery. He pulled the dragonskin armor—the only true defense against dragonfire—over his bones and grabbed his sword. Not many weapons were effective against dragons, particularly bone dragons, but the sword—runes gleaming on the flat of the blade—had been spelled to maintain a cutting edge and to resist the heat of dragonfire.

He turned it over in his hands. Hundreds of dragons had met their end on this sword. And more than dragons too—vampires, demons, werewolves, zombies, yokai, and many others’ blood had whet this blade. It had served his father for decades, and his grandfather before that. Passed down through generations of dragon slayers before him.

He nodded to himself and started down the road, trying to use the canopy of leaves overhead to shield himself from any eyes in the sky. The sun was still high, and if he was lucky, the dragon would be sleeping. Killing them while they slept was easiest.

Ahead, the road opened into a proper driveway, and what looked like a small castle stood at the end. A huge gargoyle—roughly twice his size—stood guard above the entryway, arms spread and bony wings arched. Its stone limbs were thick and heavy, and its skull boasted a heavy jaw and underbite, making it look not unlike a particularly aggressive, horned bulldog. Of course, the large bird’s nest—and the tufts of blue feathers sticking out of it—sitting between its feet diminished the effect.

Fen snorted, seeing the skeletal gargoyle. Typical dragon arrogance, having some poor mason cut a gargoyle to bear its likeness. He surveyed the grounds from the tree-line, debating his next move. Locating the hoard was key. He’d yet to meet a dragon that didn’t sleep on top of its gathered treasures.

Just as he’d decided to walk around the back, something cleared its throat behind him. He spun and gasped when a handful of powder was blown into his face. He sneezed. He coughed. He wheezed and stumbled back. Sockets burning, he reached for his sword, but it seemed to be mocking him, slipping out of his fingers. Through purple tears, a grinning skull stared back at him. It looked. Friendly. It...it wasn’t supposed to be friendly, though. That wasn’t right. It was....

He swayed on his feet, arms hanging limp at his sides. He had a sword, didn’t he? It was...he needed that, right? He reached for it, but his arm was heavy. It barely twitched.

“Hello!” the skull said brightly. “I’m Blackberry! What’s your name?”

He swayed. The skull looked nice. It had a nice smile. “Sir Fenwick Dragonsbane,” he said, trying to wipe the magic from his sockets.

“Dragonsbane? What an unusual name! You wouldn’t happen to be a dragon slayer, would you?”

He nodded dreamily. The skull was nice. There was no reason to hide anything from it. “Last of my line. I come from...” His face scrunched up as he tried to untangle the words. “A lot. A lot of dragon slayers. Long, long time. My family’s business.”

“Oh, yes. I see.” The skull considered that, then took his hand. “Why don’t you come follow me? We can have tea. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He nodded, happily allowing the skull to lead him into the castle.

He took the tea happily enough, though he spilled all over himself when he tried to drink it. The skull asked him about himself. Asked him about his work. And Fen was happy to talk, even as his words slurred and he started to slump in his chair.

When asked, he took off his armor without resistance, though he hesitated when the skull asked for his sword. That was important. He needed it. But the skull was so friendly, so kind, and he promised to take care of the sword. Reluctantly, Fen handed it over, skull swimming.

He followed the skull—or did the skull carry him? it was so hard to focus—to a dark room, and he laid down on a soft mattress, sighing happily when the skull laid a blanket overtop him.

It was a nice skull. Very nice. Very friendly.

He liked it.

—

Blackberry sat in the parlor, clawed hands wrapped around a delicate teacup shaped to look like a daffodil. He stared into the dark, bitter tea, thinking.

The couch bounced as Sans settled beside him, one arm over the back of the couch. “so. i see we have a guest,” he said, playing with Blackberry’s cervical vertebrae.

Blackberry nodded, spooning sugar into his tea. He couldn’t abide it, plain and bitter. “Yes,” he said. “Would you like some tea?”

Sans eyed the tea, his conjured cat ears flattening to the sides of his skull. Shaking his head, Blackberry pushed the cream toward him. His jaw relaxed and he purred quietly, twin tails twitching. Pouring a splash of tea into the cup, he filled the rest with cream and stirred a spoonful of sugar in. He settled deeper into the couch, curling close to Blackberry. Without thinking about it, Blackberry pet him, earning another soft purr...until Sans suddenly snapped at him, trying to nip at his fingers.

Of course, as soon as he stopped petting him, Sans gave him a strange look. “why’d you stop?”

Blackberry smiled and resumed petting him, dodging the occasional nips. The room dimmed as the sun set, and Sans settled down, dropping off into sleep. Blackberry set his empty tea cup aside, idly petting the sleeping bakaneko. When the sun finally set, he heard the loud roar as Red roused himself. In a few minutes, the massive gargoyle slunk into the castle, daintily dodging around the furniture. Blue clung to his back, feathers ruffled from sleep. He yawned, his beak disappearing as his bones reshaped themselves into something less avian.

Trilling, he hopped down from Red’s back and raced over, grabbing up the tea cakes and mini-sandwiches Blackberry always served with tea. “Good evening,” Blackberry greeted them.

Red scratched along his jaw, wings flaring. “evenin’, boss.”

Blackberry didn’t bother to correct him. As far as Red was concerned, Blackberry owned the mansion, that made him ‘boss’. It did not, however, mean Red would actually listen to any orders he issued. Gargoyles protected the people and places in their charge. They did not serve them. He pushed another teacup toward Red, ever-amused to see the teacup—not even a third the size of Red’s fist—rest in his huge hands.

Settling on the floor—the couch was too small to be comfortable for him—Red accepted the cup and popped a few teacakes in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Blue thoughtfully considered Sans, but wisely choose to leave the bakaneko undisturbed. Perched on the back of the couch, he hastily ate the various treats he’d gathered, unconcerned by the scattering crumbs.

Red shot him a look before handing him a napkin. Blue accepted the napkin sheepishly, wiping off his fingers. Then he started peering at Sans with interest. Red noticed. “baby blue, don’—“

But Blue was already pulling on his twin tails. Sans was up and hissing in an instant, leaving Blue to topple over himself and go running down the hall, laughing. Sans stretched and smoothed out his abused tails, but did not pursue. He eyed Red and Blackberry, then announced he was going outside. Likely, he wanted to find a place he could nap undisturbed. Blackberry smiled slightly at his hoard’s antics, purring contentedly. Having them near at hand—fighting, playing, laughing, sleeping—set his soul at ease and warmed him to the core.

Red sighed and took a sip of tea, draining the cup almost immediately. “so,” he rumbled, “ya wanna tell me what’s up?” Blackberry raised a brow-bone. “yer too quiet.”

Blackberry sighed and said, “I found a hunter outside.”

“poaching?”

“Not that kind of hunting.”

“oh.” Red still looked puzzled, but only for a moment. “oh!”

“Yeah.”

“did ya...?”

Blackberry ran a hand over his skull. “He’s sleeping in the guest room.”

“he’s what?!”

Blackberry, hunched forward, pinched his nasal ridge. “He’s so young, Red. Maybe 30? Dragons aren’t even full grown at that age.”

Red sighed, shifting uneasily. “‘berry, he’s not a dragon. he’s an adult. full grown.”

“You don’t think he couldn’t change? If he wanted to?”

“sure...if he wanted to. but ‘berry...he ain’t gonna want ta.” Blackberry didn’t say anything, and Red sighed. “ya wanna give ‘im a chance, doncha?”

“I do.”

Red sighed. “alright. how’re we gonna do this, then? can’t jus’ let ‘im run free. ya really wanna keep ‘im prisoner?”

“Maybe...maybe living here, with us, will show him that we aren’t the monsters he thinks we are.”

Red looked away. “how long’s this little experiment gonna last, do ya think?”

Blackberry stood, brushing himself off. “As long as it takes!”

Red just shook his head, but he smiled fondly. “alright, alright, fine. let’s talk ta the others, get ‘em ready and see what razz c’n do ‘bout spellin’ ‘im.”

Blackberry nodded, pleased with himself.

-

When Fen woke, he felt groggy and slightly nauseous. He pushed himself up, and closed his sockets, breathing slow and deep. When the world no longer felt like it was tilting, he leaned against the headboard and surveyed his surroundings. Clean white—comfortable—bedding, smelling faintly of sunlight and pine needles. Stone walls draped with elaborate tapestries to warm the room. There were even a few houseplants on the small desk and bookshelves.

His memories were hazed. The last thing he recalled was getting out of his Jeep to hunt down the dragon’s lair. He rubbed his forehead, trying to remember more, but nothing came to him. His armor was gone, leaving him in leggings and a thin tank top. His weapons were gone too. He eyed the room, but there was nothing available to him. Where was he? And...who was his host?

Well. Sitting here certainly wasn’t going to net him any answers. Shoving himself out of the bed, he stumbled to the door, his fighter’s grace abandoning him. He tried the door, and it turned freely. Poking his head out the door, he jumped back when another skeleton peered at him, eyelights shaped into stars.

“Hello!” the bright-eyed skeleton chirped, “I’m Blue!”

He eyed the skeleton’s blue clothes and blue eyelights. “i can see that,” he said, voice dry. Then he lifted his chin and asked, “where am I?”

‘Blue’ just smiled and said, “Why don’t you come with me?”

Suspicious, Fen nodded nonetheless and allowed Blue to lead him out into the hallway. Picture windows had been cut into the stonework, looking out on a lush garden. Tall conifers stood at the edge of the cleared land. In the distance, mist crawled down the sides of the mountains, sweeping toward the river valley below, and the sun inched toward the Western horizon. How long had he been asleep?

Blue was talking, but not about anything important. Fen ignored him as they walked down the hall. Finally, they entered what he could only call a parlor. Two more skeletons sat around a coffee table, and a third was curled on the seat of an armchair, apparently asleep. The others—one with deep blue eyelights, and another with violet eyelights, a shade darker than his own—fell silent when he emerged. The violet-eyed skeleton narrowed his sockets and looked him over, radiating hostility. The blue-eyed skeleton smiled warmly and invited him to sit.

“thank you,” Fen said, “but i believe i’ll stand.”

The blue-eyed skeleton’s smile never wavered. “Take a seat, hunter. We have a few things to talk about.”

Fen blinked. He wanted, suddenly, to sit. Wanted it more than anything. More than was reasonable. He took a step forward, then faltered, shaking his head. “He’s very strong willed,” the violet-eyed skeleton observed. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Giggling, the other replied, “Come on, Razz—aren’t you confident in your abilities?”

Bristling, ‘Razz’ said, “Of course I am! I am more than capable of holding him! But I didn’t want to waste my time and effort if you’re not sure.”

The blue-eyed skeleton nodded and stood. He was shorter than Fen, but his bones were thicker. He looked soft, somehow, non-threatening. And when he came to stand in front of him, Fen had a difficult time taking him seriously. Even when he said, again, “Sit,” and Fen sat without hesitation. With an approving nod, the skeleton loomed over him and said, “I think some introductions are in order. You’ve met Blue, of course.” Blue, now perched on the back of the loveseat, waved happily. “This is Razz.” Razz just sighed heavily and poured himself a cup of tea, muttering under his breath. “That’s Sans.” The skeleton he’d previously assumed had been sleeping lifted his head to peer at him before settling down to go back to sleep. Fen’s brow-bones furrowed when the skeleton’s tails came into view. They were both covered in light blue ectoflesh, both flicking idly.

What kind of cat monster has two—?

A pit opened in his soul and he looked more closely around the room. Razz smirked, sensing his unease, and asked, “Figured it out yet?”

“what are you people?” he demanded. He started to rise, but the unnamed skeleton just grabbed his arms and held him down, leaning closer with that same innocent smile.

“And I’m Blackberry,” the skeleton said. “I introduced myself yesterday, but scopolamine tends to cause short-term amnesia. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve forgotten.”

Fen struggled, but it was fruitless. His mind raced, trying to find a means of escape. “what do you want from me?” he finally asked, hoping to negotiate for his release.

“We want to be your friend!” Blue said.

Fen blinked. “you drugged me, put a geas on me—“ Razz smirked, self-satisfied. “—and now you won’t let me leave. hardly a good foundation for friendship!”

Blackberry trilled quietly. “You and your family have been hunting mine and people like mine for ages. Also a poor start for friendship, but I’m willing to see past that.”

“you’re—?”

He tosses his head, allowing the horns to sprout on his brow. “A dragon? Yes. Blue’s a phoenix. Razz is our mage—“

“I’m an alchemist, you puffed up—“

“—and Sans is a bakaneko. You haven’t met Red yet, but he’s a gargoyle. He’ll be available after sundown.” Fen again struggled to free himself, trying to pull away. Blackberry’s hands were like iron manacles. “I think you can be happy here. If you allow yourself to be happy, that is. You’ll be needing a new name, of course. A ‘Dragonsbane’ could never have a home here. I know! Why don’t we call you ‘Plum’? Then your name would match ours!”

Plum shook his head. “i refuse—!”

The bakaneko’s sockets cracked open and, tail swishing, he said, “good. always looking for a new toy.”

Plum panted, trying to pull free. Blackberry just smiled down at him. “We won’t force you, of course. But we aren’t going to let you go. We can’t. Not if you’re just going to go out and continue murdering people—“

“you’re not people!” Fen snarled, “you’re creatures. you don’t deserve—“

Two huge hands settled on his shoulders. “not people, huh?” He looked up at a huge, horned head. The gargoyle’s lower jaw jutted forward, big teeth forming an underbite reminiscent of a bulldog’s. The gargoyle from above the entrance, he realized with a start. “sounds like he don’ wanna place nice, ‘berry. wan’ me ta take ‘im outside? easier ta clean up the mess tha’ way.”

Blackberry’s focus never wavered from Fen’s face. “And this is Red. So, now that you’ve met everyone, what do you say? Would you like to stay with us? Give friendship a chance?”

Fen huffed, going limp. “what other choice do i have?”

“How you’d prefer to die, of course! We aren’t complete monsters. We’d honor your requests—within reason, of course.”

Looking at the five skeletons, Fen growled. There were no good choices here, but if he played at friendship, there was at least the possibility of getting free and slaying the lot of them in their beds. He was a Dragonsbane, even if that name was going to be stripped from him. He wasn’t going to bend for them, no matter how long they kept him. One day, one of them would slip up, and he’d kill them all. He just had to wait. And play nice.

“fine,” he said, swallowing his pride. “i’ll stay.”

The big hands loosened so the gargoyle could slap him companionably on the back. “glad ta hear it. so what’s yer name, anyway? sorry i missed the proper in’raductions.”

He looked at the dragon, eyeing the bright—but faintly threatening—smile. “plum,” he said, voice stiff, “my name is…plum.”

Stretching, the bakaneko crossed the room to lean against the chair and pat him on the head. “welcome to the family, plum.” His eyelights gleamed like he was just waiting for Fen Plum to snap and snarl at him in response.

The alchemist shook his head, though he smiled slightly when the gargoyle lumbered over to his side and sat daintily on the couch. His heavy arm settled protectively over the alchemist’s shoulders, pulling him in close. For a moment, warmth touched the alchemist’s eyelights, there and gone in an instant. Then he focused on Plum. “The geas is very simple, really, and it has three primary effects. You must obey any direct order one of us issues. You won’t be able to access any of your magic without our permission, and—“ He smirked now, obviously proud of this aspect of the working. “—any contact with a weapon will make you violently ill. I don’t recommend testing that one, either. The effects are highly unpleasant.”