Cyrano

Candles flickered in the Shadow King's throne room, illuminating walls and vaulted ceiling surfaced entirely from skeletons of innocent victims. Their blood gushed from grotesque magical fountains. I could see nothing out the windows - the Shadow King's power had filled the daytime sky with winged man-like abominations and insects in such great number that it blotted out the sun. The throne room itself, bereft of its owner's dark magic, had the spooky dimness of a cavern.

It smelled just about as bad as it looked: Rotting flesh, blood, earthen smells.

A massive, antlered beast man oozed black blood before me, its gray carcass doing final death spasms that still made me flinch. Beside him, the crumpled skeletal remains of its master leered motionlessly from its voluminous black-gold robes. One claw, even in death, refused to release the upper portion of its shattered staff.

Our victory came at the cost of my boyfriend's life. His handsome, musclebound body had been mangled beyond recognition, armor crushed like a tin can. I knelt by his body, weeping as I brushed his braids away from his scarred and bleeding face. "Ben..."

The ground rumbled, the building shook, chunks of masonry falling from the ceiling, but I didn't want to move. I felt a lonely darkness growing within me, far deeper than my inky surroundings.

A short, pale skinned figure in an oversized red robe floated up to me, sandaled feet hovering a foot above the floor. "Woman, will you please get a move on! The building is about to collapse on our heads!"

When I failed to answer right away, he added, "I know, it's a shame to waste such lovely architecture, but can we at least view the demolition from outside?"

Our gnome familiar, never-ending fount of sarcasm. I smirked a little despite myself. "Go without me."

"Oh ha ha," he scoffed. "And how, pray tell, am I to do that when I'm still magically bound to your charm amulet?"

"Cyrano, I release you," I whispered.

Cyrano leaned closer, eyes widening in shock. "What's that? I could have sworn—"

"I release you!" I shouted, holding aloft the pendant on my neck. "I release you!"

Lightning shot down from the sky, erupted from the ground, striking the ruby on the front of the pendant again and again. The object exploded outwards, leaving me holding nothing but a chain.

For a moment, the gnome just hovered in front of me, staring in astonished disbelief, but then he remarked, "Well. If this is how you wish to spend the last hours, or should I say `minutes' of your life, who am I to stand in your way? Tootles!"

The gnome closed his eyes, wiggled his pointy ears, and vanished into thin air.

Had I truly done this for Cyrano, or out of a selfish desire to maximize my own self pity? In the back of my mind, I couldn't help thinking this wasn't what my dead boyfriend wanted for me, even if such a death might possibly reunite us once again.

But what else did I have to live for?

I heard a sizzling pop, and the little robed figure made a reappearance. "Dammit, woman, get a hold of yourself! That's not the only musclebound lummox in the universe, you know!"

"He is to me!" I whimpered.

Cyrano groaned. "If you want to commit suicide so badly, I can think of a thousand methods less painful than getting brained by falling rocks!"

I sniffed, didn't respond.

The gnome let out a heavy sigh. "I require the aid of a minstrel to help me sleep at night."

Selfish, I thought. Usual Cyrano. Why wouldn't he just leave me alone? "Inquire at the town."

A ceiling support crashed to the floor behind me, smashing through floorboards. Something in the dungeon below made a crunching sound.

Funny how when you want to die, the universe is not obliged to fulfill your request.

"Why must I inquire in town, when I have a perfectly good musician right in front of me? One, I might add, that seems to have nothing better to do than feel sorry for herself in the middle of a collapsing building?"

"If you want a thrall servant to play music for you whenever you—"

An immense beam tumbled down from the roof, the perfect size and shape to put me out of my misery.

Cyrano threw up his hands, stopping the object in midair. "Curse you, woman! Can't you see that I do not wish for you to die!"

With a casual brushing motion and a muttered incantation, he magically sent me sailing out of the throne room, through the stone corridor beyond, and out the open gates of Castle Death. I landed on a path of hard paving stones, bruised but otherwise intact. 

A black cat yelped, darting into a clump of dead plants surrounding the castle.

The castle rumbled and fell in upon itself, its ramparts, towers, parapet and all raising up huge clouds of dust. A portcullis dropped into the dungeons sideways.

I leapt to my feet. "Cyrano!"

My eyes brimmed with tears as I watched the stonework toppling to the depths.

Another friend lost, this time due to my own selfishness.

"You cry for me? I'm touched!"

I whirled around and saw the gnome floating up to me from a nearby road.

I wiped my eyes. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't want to put you in danger."

Cyrano frowned. For once in a very long time, he appeared to lack words.

"You didn't have to save me. You're free now. You can do whatever you want."

"I know."

I stared at him. "We've kept you as our personal thrall. A weapon to use against our enemy, all against your will. And you still want to be with me? Why?"

Cyrano did his usual annoyed scowling bit, but I thought I detected some warmth behind it. "I'm a thousand year old mage! Must I debase myself with these petty human emotions?"

He must have understood my facial expression, for then he sighed and turned his back to me. "All right, fine! If you truly must know, I've had worse masters. And you, you are my favorite musician, the best minstrel in all the lands, and it would sadden me to see your body smashed into a bloody pulp by chunks of falling debris!"

Cyrano glanced over his shoulder, as if attempting to gauge my reaction without exposing any of his own vulnerabilities. I smiled and gave him a hug.

"How disgustingly mushy," he muttered, but he didn't seem that displeased. "Oh, and lest I forget..."

He snapped his fingers, and my boyfriend's body materialized. "I thought you might not appreciate his spirit haunting this picturesque abode of the damned, so I brought Ben outside for you."

"Thank you." I wept on his shoulder.

At first, he didn't seem to know what to do, but then he awkwardly reached around and patted me on the back in a consoling way.

"You can't raise the dead, can you?"

"Only if you want a zombie."

I shuddered. I'd seen him do it with other things. "No thank you."

With the help of Cyrano's levitation powers, we carried Ben a few miles away from that horrible place, to an idyllic meadow of wildflowers. It still looked dusky from all the monstrosities and insects, but I welcomed the pleasant scenery. "Thank you for all your help, Cyrano. I only wish that, before..."

The gnome looked irritated. "Yes, yes. If there had been some way for me to help your boyfriend, I would have, but I had my hands full trying to destroy the Shadow King and his flying minions. Speaking of which..."

Without even turning to look, he raised a hand in the air, flicking a magic fireball at a winged beast that had swooped in to attack us. The horned creature shrieked, collapsing ashen and crispy into a bed of purple thistle flowers.

Noticing it lighten, I glanced up. The hole in the sky had been shut, the sun beginning to peek through the cover of fell beasts and pestilence. Someone would have a lot of work to do before all of this were over, but we'd dealt with the worst of it.

I said a few last words for the victim, and played his favorite ballad on the lute in his honor.

Cyrano hovered over the body. "Did he ever tell you if he preferred burial or cremation?"

"N-no," I stammered.

The gnome wiggled his ears. Ben flamed and turned to ash.

"Cyrano!" I cried. "I wasn't ready!"

"You never would have been." He scooped the ashes into a leather pouch. "Besides, I...don't think that's how you'd like to remember him, somehow. You weren't too keen on my zombie suggestion..."

I used the broken chain to make the pouch into a necklace. "I...thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome, I guess." He settled on a rock to rest, well, after taking a moment to destroy another bat monster with a lightning bolt. "So what now?"

I knelt next to him, and felt the fatigue set in. "I don't know. I think there's a tavern a few miles away..."

"Ah yes, that's excellent. Just drink your troubles away."

I glared at him. "All right, imp! What do you suggest we do?"

My friend sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe some rest and relaxation is in order. I have been enslaved for over five hundred years. Is it strictly a tavern, or does that place also have beds?"

Cyrano and I had to slay a few more winged beasts on the dirt road leading to the nearest village. The creatures had ripped apart a few cows, thankfully no people.

The gnome smirked as he watched me clean monster blood from my broadsword. "You're as sharp with a weapon as you are with a lute."

I gaped at him. "Cyrano, is that a compliment?"

He seemed...embarrassed. "Just...an observation from seeing you in battle as long as I have. Not everyone can play a lullaby to a creature with their left hand while hacking it to death with the right."

This made me smile a little. "Ay, weird times we're living in, eh? In a normal world, a man would compliment me on me hair."

"Uh, well," Cyrano cleared his throat. "That's nice too, I suppose."

I giggled. "When is the last time you've been with a woman?"

Cyrano's face, ordinarily pale white, now flushed pink. "More than a hundred years! You should know, you've been carrying my magical amulet around all this time!"

I suppressed more laughter. "Okay, okay, no need to get touchy!"

I don't think anyone would describe The Warthog's Wart as a romantic dining location. Dimly lit, sagging in many places, and smelling of burnt food and old spilled ale, the word `dive' comes to mind. That being said, I thrive in such places, and I'd heard that The Warthog made an interesting concoction with sliced fried potatoes, cheese and ground beef.

I ordered two of these from a large, muscular bartender, and two honey meads. I regretted the potatoes when they came out and I noticed the expression on Cyrano's face.

"This looks like a good way to contract food poisoning."

I rolled my eyes and sipped from my tankard. "Nay, if you wish to get poisoned, I've heard the best way is to order the bouillabaisse."

I sent Cyrano's order back, but noticed him dipping into mine when we started drinking. "That's...actually not that bad!"

We drank, talked about the many adventures we'd had together. People stared at us. I suppose I didn't blame them.

"They look like they'd never seen a gnome before."

"Maybe it's because you look so handsome in that little robe," I teased.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, woman...Do you actually think it has something to do with us being seen dining together?"

I leaned closer to him. "Do you want it to be?" I don't know, maybe it was the alcohol talking.

Cyrano visibly shuddered, but I wondered if it were an act. "A thousand year old gnome and a human? Are you mad?"

"A single thousand year old gnome, and a lonely human," I corrected. "It only seems a little mad to me."

The gnome grimaced in seeming disgust. "One thing I cannot stand is a woman who can't hold her liquor."

"Oh come now. You know it takes more than this lot to get me really drunk!"

Cyrano, on the other hand, threw up when he started on his second tankard. "I'm sorry."

I should have been disgusted, but I thought it funny. We'd been together, fighting monsters and what have you, for what seemed like forever, and I'd never once seen him get shitfaced. Most the time he'd spent with his little nose in a spell book. "Now who's the one not holding their liquor?"

"Lay off it, okay?" Cyrano used his magic to clean himself up.

"Did you mean to start talking like me?"

"What? When did I talk like you?"

"Just now. You said `Lay off it.'"

"I also vomited on myself. I am not in the best condition. If you'll excuse me, I must use the outhouse."

He flew out the door. 

The lightning flashes outside the pub's dirty windows indicated that he encountered a few annoyances on the way to the loo. I popped my head outside to check on him, but the smoking black carcasses and a slamming outhouse door informed me that my friend was all right.

It turned out the Warthog had two rooms upstairs, but one was already taken. I informed Cyrano of the predicament when he returned from outside.

"I'm so exhausted I could sleep on the floor...do they at least have a rug?"

The offered room didn't look much better than the tavern, and it smelled like cheese. Water splotches marred the ceiling, the sheets appeared to be stained, and Cyrano detected small bugs. I wouldn't have stayed had the gnome not magically sanitized the place like his robes and body.

Seeing a beat up armchair, I sighed and slumped into it. "Here. You take the bed."

Cyrano scoffed, but I suspected he was being a gentleman. "That lumpy thing? I'd rather sleep on the floor." He gestured for me to have it. "It will kill a gnome's back, but I'm certain it's quite comfortable for a human female."

I wanted to disagree, but really felt too tired to put up a fight about it. Turns out he'd only exaggerated about its lumpiness.

I'm not sure how much time passed after that. In between the alcohol, and recovering from a long and grueling series of battles, I believe I must have slept until morning of the following day.

The sun shined blindingly through the windows, filling our hovel-like surroundings with a golden glow. The sky had become bright and clear, no sign of our winged foes in the immediate vicinity. In fact, sparrows and cardinals chirped at us from tree branches outside the glass. Bright puffy clouds drifted through a robin's egg sky.

I felt...strangely warm, and not merely because of the sun or the thick blankets.

I shifted into a different position and felt hot breath, and a small naked body pressing against me. 

When my alcohol fuzzed thoughts jumbled things together, adding in details like my own nudity, and a red robe with nobody inside it, blood rushed to my face, making me even warmer.

"Good morning, Zara," Cyrano muttered into my ear.

"Good morning," I stammered. "We...must have had an interesting night."