Hello! I'm Zeragii ;)
After nearly finishing my story An Inner Light, I went back through some of the reviews and discussions I had had with my readers during that time. And I came across a few requests that I had very nearly forgotten. There was more than one person who said that they were slightly surprised or disappointed that I had skipped over the Gauls' childhood. In that story, it had been necessary, in order to keep the story going. But now, for my readers, I would like to amend that hole in the lives of our favorite villagers. :) Each chapter will be a separate adventure, focusing on various characters. The genre will differ from one chapter to the next. And this will take place in the same timeline/universe as An Inner Light. I don't think I'll have a particular posting schedule; I'll just post whenever I have one. Thank you!
I do not own anything in the Asterix universe. I do not write for profit, but only for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment (I hope) of others.
This first story takes place only about ten months after Asterix and Obelix's birth (so sometime in June). Vitalstatistix is probably about 6 years old. Most of the others are 5 or 6 or younger.
There is a time in every child's life, when they get a taste of adulthood. Often it is an unpleasant taste; bitter and thick, making the child want to spit the experience out and never try it again. But then there are those who, if they keep their heads and truly try, realize that growing up isn't so bad. Some never want to get older, and many do want to; but it all comes down to being what you truly are. Acting your age...
Vitalstatistix rolled over in bed with a groan, throwing the sheets over his head to try and block out the blinding rays of sunshine that streamed through his open window. But that proved to be even more uncomfortable than the bright, invading light. The sheets were hot and smothering, especially in the heat of a warm, spring morning, and he quickly found he couldn't breath. Finally realizing that his slumber was now completely and utterly disturbed, Vitalstatistix kicked the blankets off of himself, his temper subsiding as a cooler breeze drifted in and blew against his overheated body.
Sitting up, the boy glanced over at the other side of the room, where shadows protected a second bed from the glare of the rising sun. Figures Doublehelix would choose the best corner, where the shade of their hut's overhanging roof kept the cool shade in and the hot sunlight out. No matter. When winter came, he would get the warm light, and Doublehelix would not. Vitalstatistix couldn't wait. For now, though, it was uncommonly hot for June.
Carefully, not wanting to wake his older brother, the young Gaul slipped off the bed and landed quietly with his small feet on the hard, wooden floor. The planks were well worn, from generations of use, but the few splinters that still managed to poke up then and again never bothered Vitalstatistix. His feet, which once the warm weather hit were always bare, were a little tender from an entire season of wearing soft, sack-like shoes, both in the village and, on occasion, in the forest. But, even so, he could walk barefooted right then without wincing; a fact which he took great pride in.
He had worn his light and dark blue striped pants to bed, as he always did; the only thing he needed to be fully dressed being his green tunic. Finding it draped over the bottom post of his bed, where it had been tossed the night before, Vitalstatistix quickly slipped it over his head, pulling it down snugly over his slightly protruding stomach before strapping on his belt. Feeling sufficiently covered, the boy next armed himself for the day's adventures. Also resting on his bedpost lay a metal strainer; his helmet, which he purposefully placed on his head. His red hair, frizzed and untidy, stuck out through the holes, making him look uncommonly like a frightened, red-quilled hedgehog. Then, reaching beneath his bed, where it had fallen, Vitalstatistix pulled out his small, wooden toy sword. Slipping it beneath his belt, the little boy felt ready to face the world. Turning, and being very mindful of creaky boards, the child carefully made his way to the ladder that led to the ground floor of his parent's hut.
Despite the reluctance with which he had awoken, Vitalstatistix was now very excited and anxious to go out and about. It was spring, and school was out early this particular year. No work to do; just play. Play until there was nothing more to worry about than more play. The life of a child revolved around such a time. When the trailing yoke of education was dropped; forgotten in a season of freedom. Vitalstatistix had promised to meet some of the others over by the creek, where they planned to play most of the morning. As long as Doublehelix didn't show up. Being a good four years older than him, as well as the future village Chief, Vitalstatistix's brother could sometimes be a little bossy. Doublehelix always said that it was his duty to protect the younger children; which, of course, only gave him license to tell them what to do. But Vitalstatistix didn't like being under someone else's rules, especially when he felt he didn't need them. Hopefully Doublehelix would go fishing with the older boys, and would leave the younger children be.
Clinging to the rungs of the ladder, Vitalstatistix descended as quickly as possible. Feet finally on the well-packed, earthen floor, the boy made a dash through the empty hut and out through the open door...only to run smack into something large, and covered in a great deal of fabric. Stumbling back, Vitalstatistix looked up in confusion, to see no one else but his mother; who was looking quite annoyed with him. She was a very large woman, with a mouth that some men swore could swallow an entire boar in three bites. Though she rarely used it for eating; she used it for nagging and scolding anyone she felt deserved it. Which, evidently, seemed to be the category her son fit into at the moment.
"Vitalstatistix, what have I told you about running about?!" Her loud voice seemed to shout for all to hear. "As the son of the Chieftain, you should be far more reserved! Now, come here and say good morning to Vanilla and Sarsaparilla!"
The boy leaned sideways to glance around his mother's girth to find that they did indeed have company. "Good morning," he quipped carefully, afraid that his mother might make him stay for breakfast. That was something he could find elsewhere. Somewhere quieter. He tried to rush off again, but his mother caught his arm, stopping him.
"Come see their new babies!" It was a command, not a suggestion.
Looking thoroughly beaten, Vitalstatistix came around and looked up at the two woman, Sarsaparilla and Vanilla. In their arms they each held a small, gurgling child; only about ten months old. It wasn't like Vitalstatistix hadn't seen them before, what with all the excitement there had been about them. Apparently, they had been born at the same time; same second. Though that was pretty neat, as far as Vitalstatistix could see, they were just a couple of babies. Little, clingy, noisy babies. But, for the sake of saving his hide, Vitalstatistix tried to look interested. One of the babies, the one belonging to Vanilla, was a plump, little fellow; with a bit of bright red hair fuzzing all around his head. He was sucking his thumb with a passion, eyes closed and making happy sucking noises that sounded as though he were enjoying a feast of wild boar.
The other baby, who was far smaller and thinner, had a cluster of bright, yellow hair growing quite thickly. His eyes, however, were open; seeming to take in as much of the world as they could. They wandered from one wonder to the next, finally coming to rest on Vitalstatistix. With a squeal of happiness, the infant held out his arms toward the older boy, making Vitalstatistix smile.
Sarsaparilla laughed at her son's enthusiasm. "Well, Asterix certainly likes you. Here, would you like to hold him?"
"Oh," the boy answered hesitantly, "Well, I-" But before he could finish, he found himself with an armful of cheerful, giggling baby. Unsure of what to do with it, Vitalstatistix held Asterix out at arms length, afraid that the infant might start crying, or grabbing his hair. But Asterix seemed perfectly content, hanging there, brown eyes staring into his own with an almost startling intensity.
"See!" the older boy's mother declared loudly, as she seemed to always yell every word. "He's fine. Vitalstatistix can watch them for just a few moments, Sarsaparilla! We can run to the town center and buy breakfast!"
Vitalstatistix mentally groaned. How was he going to get away now? He was only six years old after all; did they really expect him to watch two babies? Alone? Without help? His questions were answered as his mother bellowed at the top of her lungs.
"Doublehelix! Get down here and help!"
There was an audible thump from the loft window, like someone falling out of bed, before more thumping, this time of feet racing toward the ladder, was heard. A moment later, a very groggy and grumpy-looking Doublehelix stood in the doorway, tucking his tunic into his pants hurriedly. His eyes still held that sleepy look, and it was a wonder he hadn't broken his neck on the way down.
"Oh no, that's not necessa-" Sarsaparilla began, but Vitalstatistix's mother cut her off.
"Nonsense! The boys will be happy to watch them!" She carefully took hold of Vanilla's baby and handed him over to her eldest son. "Watch them until we get back!"
Vitalstatistix suddenly realized his morning was all at once very disrupted. "But, Mother-"
"No buts! You're old enough now to hold a little responsibility, young man; act your age! We'll be back shortly; then we'll all have breakfast!" With that, she turned and left with the other two, more reluctant women; already chatting away, gossip a very common subject. Behind them, Doublehelix and Vitalstitistix stood, still processing their task; a gurgling baby in both their arms.
Doublehelix blinked, then looked down at the chubby youngster in his arms. The infant blinked at him, still sucking insistently on his thumb. Doublehelix seemed to consider the babe a moment, but then, without a second thought, handed the child to Vitalstatistix. Turning, hands in his pockets, the older brother started to walk away.
"Hey!" his brother cried, trying to handle the two infants, sinking to the ground when he could no longer hold them. "Where are you going?!"
"Off to find Soporifix. He and I are going into the forest today."
"But...but what about the babies?!"
Doublehelix shrugged. "I never said I'd watch them. You can do it; your responsible." He was gone and out of sight in a matter of minutes.
"Doublehelix! Doublehelix! Oh, by Toutatis!" Vitalstatistix looked down at the two infants that were gazing up at him curiously. They were really too young to be watched by just him. Already they were glancing about, wide eyes taking in the world around them. Who knew what trouble a couple of children so young might get into. His thoughts were proven true as Vitalstatistix was forced to lurch forward, removing an unfortunate grasshopper from the chubbier baby's little hand. How - Obelix, wasn't it? - had managed to grab the critter was beyond Vitalstatistix's understanding; but the insect had very nearly become the babe's breakfast. The older boy carefully released the grasshopper into a bush, turning to find that Asterix had managed to roll over, getting into the dirty sand of the pathway.
With a sigh of frustration, and a lot of quick work, Vitalstatistix was successful in getting both babies inside his family's hut, with the half door closed to keep them in. It would be far easier to watch Asterix and Obelix indoors than outdoors...At least he hoped it would be...
Vitalstatistix was terribly bored. He had never been much of an indoor boy; and having to stay in his hut, trapped with two curious babies, was proving to be a pastime that he found anything but desirable. Asterix and Obelix, though they could not yet walk, or even move much at all, always seemed to find or get a hold of exactly what Vitalstatistix didn't want them too. The older boy ended up sitting on the floor with them, one held firmly on either side of him; the infants fussing and squirming uncomfortably. The mothers were taking far longer than they should have been; probably having found other women to gossip with. What was beginning to feel like hours had really only been about twenty minutes; still a long time for an anxious child.
Vitalstatistix spent most of his waiting grumbling softly to himself. The morning was getting on, and here he was stuck with two little babies, unable to join his friends down by the creek. They were probably waiting for him; having fun while he was left babysitting. It wasn't fair. The days of a school-free life were waning, and Vitalstatistix felt as though he were missing it all. Their education would be resuming at the end of the summer with the new addition to the village, Getafix, as their teacher. While Vitalstatistix liked the kindly druid just fine, he was certain the man was the sort to take school very seriously. They would actually be forced to learn; something that, frankly, he believed he didn't need. After all, what was so important about numbers and letters? He never used them when fishing, or playing. It seemed like a waste of time really.
A loud knock on the outside of the hut's half door broke Vitalstatistix's thoughts. "Who's there?"
"Itth usth!" a lisping voice sounded out, as the wooden frame was pushed inward. A young boy with blond hair poked his head in through the crack he had made. His only clothes were the red pants, brown shoes, and little apron he wore tied about his front. "What are you doing?" He spotted the other boys company, forcing his way in completely, followed by a number of other children.
To say that Vitalstatistix was embarrassed would be an understatement. Being caught playing nursemaid was not something that the other boys would let go of easily. But it was too late. "Don't laugh, Fulliautomatix!" he growled crankily at the other boys smiling face. "Unless you want a taste of my fist!" He balled one of his hands and shook it at the thinner boy.
Fulliautomatix bristled, stepping forward and yelling, "Oh yeah?!"
"Yeah!"
"Well, I-"
Both Asterix and Obelix let out a cry, bursting into tears at the older boys' raised voices. Vitalstatistix blinked in surprise before glaring back up at his companion. "Aw, see what you've gone and done! They were fine 'til you showed up!"
Fulliautomatix looked guilty, backing away as the two babies continued to wail. One of the other boys behind him, Unhygienix, stepped forward; leaning over and pointing at the culprits of all the raucous. "How do we get them to stop?"
"Give them something to play with," a third boy, dressed in blue and white answered. In his hands he clutched a small lyre. Hesitating, obviously not wanting to really share it, he handed Asterix the little instrument. Asterix was instantly distracted, stopping his crying at once. Obelix also stopped, but when he tried to reach for the lyre and wasn't given it, he burst into another round. The older boys covered their ears.
"Do you have another harp, Cacofonix?"
The blue-clothed boy shook his head. "Sorry, I've only got one." He looked to Fulliautomatix. "Why don't you hand him your hammer?"
The other lad looked extremely unhappy with that suggestion; but Obelix's cries were loud and increasingly painful to listen to. So, rather huffily, Fulliautomatix handed the baby his little wooden mallet he always carried with him. Obelix latched onto it happily, giggling in pleasure.
"Well, that's that."
"Yeah, but now how do we get our stuff back?"
Cacofonix shrugged. "They'll get bored with it eventually."
Vitalstatistix frowned at the slightly younger boy. "How do you know that?"
The child blushed. "I-I sometimes help watch Asterix; other times Obelix. They can be a handful, but I'm never allowed to watch them by myself," Cacofonix observed, seeming to realize that Vitalstatistix was alone.
The Chieftain's younger son frowned. "And I shouldn't be doing this by myself either. Doublehelix was supposed to help me, but he left."
The boys all made faces of distaste. Doublehelix was somewhat of a bully. Not in the sense of beating anyone up, but he always seemed to be able to sneak out of doing work, placing it on the shoulders of his younger brother; or anyone else he could con into doing the chore.
"Well, we can help," Cacofonix offered, cringing when his suggestion was met with several hard stares from the other boys.
Vitalstatistix looked defeated. "But what about going down to the creek? We were going to go catch frogs and stuff. Now I have to stay here with these two." He frowned down at the two infants, one of which was sucking on his shirt. He pulled the wet material out of the baby's mouth; relieved that he didn't cry when he did so.
All the boys stood silent, before Unhygienix again stepped forward. "Why don't we take them with us? We can watch them down by the water while we play. I'm sure they'd like it."
Cacofonix didn't seem so sure. "I don't know..."
"That's a great idea!" Vitalstatistix cut in, rising to his feet. He lifted Asterix and handed him to Unhygienix. "Here; you take him and I'll take Obelix."
Unhygienix looked into the babe's face, not seeming to know quite what to do. He very suddenly decided that he didn't want to be responsible for the infant and quickly handed him over to Fulliautomatix. Who then handed Asterix to Cacofonix. Asterix gave a coo, causing Cacofonix to sigh in resignation, positioning the child more comfortably in his arms. He still wasn't so sure this was such a good idea; but it wasn't really up to him. However, one more try couldn't hurt.
"You sure we won't get in trouble?"
"Oh, don't be silly," Unhygienix snapped. "We'll bring them back before anyone even knows it!"
With that, the boys headed out the door, two little babies in tow.
"This was a good idea," Vitalstatistix beamed happily, splashing a handful of water in Unhygienix's direction. The other boy giggled, blocking it the best he could before throwing a small wave back toward his friend.
The creek was the childrens' favorite place to play. Safe within the walls of the village, the small riverlet cascaded down out of a large rock pile in the eastern side of the Gaulish village.. It ran down in a relatively calm, straight manner, and then turned toward the wall, where it slipped under and flowed out to the sea. The water was cool and clear; the habitat of countless frogs and, once in a while, a few fish. The children often pretended that they were great Gaulish warriors; protecting their home from sea invasion. The 'sea', of course, being the creek.
While splashing about, Vitalstatistix kept an eye on Obelix and Asterix. The babies were gurgling happily on the shore, seeming to communicate that way. Their curiosity was boundless. Everything that moved, sparkled, or in other words existed, was of extreme interest. To Asterix especially, who reached out for a rock here, a leaf there; all items finding their way into the infant's mouth...or nearly so. Every time he passed the bank, wading through the water as he was, Vitalstatistix made sure to take away anything Asterix happened to be holding. It was tiresome, though not nearly as much as it had been back at his hut; trapped indoors. This enabled him to play and watch the little ones; though, more and more, his attention was turning to the former rather than the later.
"Look!" Cacofonix cried out joyfully, "I caught a little fish!"
The other children stamped through the water, moisture soaking all the way to the neckline of their tunics. The stream wasn't very deep, maybe about a foot and a half, but when you run through water of any height, it's bound to get you damp. Though, the riverlet definitely had its deeper spots. Running forward to the center of the creek, where Cacofonix stood perfectly still, hands cupped in front of him with water slowly dripping from between his fingers. He giggled whenever the creature in his little hands tickled against his skin. He almost wanted to drop it, but that wouldn't due. He had wanted to prove to the other boys that he could catch fish just as well as they could. The shame of possibly losing it now was unbearable.
"What kind of fish is it?" Unhygienix asked, coming forward and staring down with his large eyes into Cacofonix's hands; looking uncommonly like a fish himself.
Fulliautomatix sent him a glare. "You're the one whosthe father isth a fishmonger," he lisped. "You should know!"
The fishmonger's son looked insulted. Taking another glance at the fish, he declared, "It's a shark."
Cacofonix dropped the little fish at once.
"That'th no shark!" Fulliautomatix shouted. "You lying, just becauthe you don't want to look thilly!"
"I am not lying!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too! Iths just that your brainth are all methed up from breath'n in your father'th thtinky fish!"
That did it. In a cascading shower of splashing, kicking, and little-fisted punches, Unhygienix leaped upon the blacksmith's son with a yowl of anger. The others, who were not about to be left out, quickly joined the fray, yelling, hitting, and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Just like their fathers, the boys enjoyed a good punch-up. And seeing as this gave them a perfectly good reason to start one, there was no holding back. Their attention was completely and blissfully occupied.
Which meant, unfortunately, that no one was watching the babies.
Asterix and Obelix couldn't move very far, not yet having mastered the skill of walking. They hadn't even really mastered crawling as of yet. But that didn't mean that they couldn't move at all. Asterix especially had learned to slowly drag himself, one leg tucked beneath him, short distances. Obelix wasn't so fortunate, but he was contented, having rediscovered how much he enjoyed sucking on his own hand.
Asterix shifted a little closer to the creek's edge; big, brown eyes curiously taking in the sparkling water flowing gently past. Then, all at once, his gaze fell upon a number of little, black creatures nibbling at the grasses that dipped into the water. They wiggled and squirmed; dark, thin tails swishing about them. Asterix was far too young to know that they were tadpoles; newly hatched frogs who had not yet gained their legs and lost their tails. But, one thing Asterix did know, was that they were fascinating...and that he wanted to grab one. Letting out a giggle that went unheard by the babe's older companions, who were still deep in argument, Asterix edged just a little nearer.
By this time, Obelix had noticed his friend's interested stare, and somehow managed to roll closer as well. Looking down, he too spied the tadpoles. He also wished to reach out to touch them. By now lying on their stomachs, the two babies stretched out their stubby little arms, wiggling their fingers in anticipation. Asterix did fine, slowly leaning forward, running his hands through the water. But Obelix, who was far too top heavy for such an imbalance, tried to do the same. Which resulted in him tumbling right over the embankment and into the creek. The deeper, darker part of the creek.
Water from his friend's fall splashed into Asterix's face, getting up his nose and stinging his eyes. Rubbing his fists into them, Asterix seemed shocked a moment, finding himself wet and startled, before letting out a loud, wailing cry. The screech was more than sufficient to catch the attention of the older children.
Cacofonix turned first, having heard the high-pitched shout. His large blue eyes widened as they took in a soaking wet, crying Asterix, but absolutely no Obelix. "Where's the other baby?!" he cried out, his voice carrying very evident panic.
Vitalstatistix's head snapped in the direction of where he had placed the little ones, only to discover exactly what Cacofonix had. A sense of frantic energy filled him. His mind distractedly repeating over and over that they had been his responsibility. The adults were going to kill him. They had been his responsibility.
Racing forward, Vitalstatistix waded swiftly into the deeper water. Luckily he knew how to open his eyes underwater. But the water proved to be far deeper than he had expected; all at once the ground seeming to fall out from underneath him. With a yelp of surprise, he went under. The calls and yells of his friends were instantly muffled; silenced into a muffled hum, as water filled his ears. For a moment he held his eyes slammed shut, but then remembered Obelix. Forcing his eyes back open, he gazed into the now murky depths. He saw Obelix at once. The babe had only been under for a few moments, but even that felt like an eternity. Reaching out, Vitalstatistix latched onto the baby and pushed back to the surface.
The moment they broke the water, Obelix let out a loud, sputtering wail; very piercing in Vitalstatistix's ears. But he had another, far more pressing problem to worry about. While Vitalstatistix himself knew how to swim, he found that doing so with a frightened child in one's arms was nearly impossible. His toes barely touched the creek's floor, and the weight of Obelix kept pushing him down. The other children couldn't reach him, and most of them still didn't know how to swim. The riverlet flowed slowly, but it was still moving him along, unfortunately to even deeper water. With a final yelp, Vitalstatistix no longer felt the ground at all, and went under, baby and all.
This situation may have turned out quite poorly. After all, while the creek would not be very deep at all to an adult, to a child, only about two feet tall, it could be quite a hazard. The children were only allowed to play in the water because the parents trusted them to stay clear of the darker water; that which was over their heads. But Vitalstatistix had had no choice; and that choice might have been the last on he had ever made...if not for the assistance of one person.
Getafix always enjoyed strolling the village. He had only been living there for the past ten months, since Asterix and Obelix had been born, but it was beginning to feel very much his home. He had been staying with Geriatrix all that time and, though he enjoyed the fellow's company, often went searching for a place to build his own cottage. He had found a spot near a creek, where the clear water ran by and supplied a quieter, more serene background. He visited it often, planning to talk with Semiautomatix and the rest of the building-capable men. All he needed was a safe place to brew his potions, and experiment without the fumes or (Toutatis forbid) explosions bothering the other villagers.
And today was one of those days. Geriatrix had been rattling off story after story about past times so far back it was impossible that he had even been alive to witness them. But Getafix had long since given up trying to figure out the old timer's true age, and so let him believe what he wanted. The stories themselves were quite interesting. However, twenty or thirty stories at once could be a bit much. So it had been today. Finally getting free of the old man and his tales, Getafix had decided that he would like to visit his prospective lot within the Gaulish village.
As he neared the creek, the sounds of several childrens' voices drifted to his ears on the wind. They sounded like shouts, and not the happy kind. Getafix, oddly enough, realized that they were simply fighting and thought no more of it. While the druid didn't necessarily support such behavior, he had come to find that it was a part of these Gauls' lives. To ban them from brawling would be like taking away their free will. The adults did it regularly; and it only made sense that the children should as well. As he turned the corner, he found exactly what he had expected; a raging circle of little fists, feet, and a lot of splashing water. Getafix stopped, smiling and giving a shake of his head, he just stood there. He didn't support this type of roughhousing, but the Gauls seemed to think of it quite highly. And so, Getafix, over the last ten months or so, had learned to stay clear. As long as no one got seriously hurt, everything was all right.
But then Getafix's eyes shifted a little to the left of the squabbling children. A look of surprise and confusion crossed his face as he rested his gaze on two little forms by the creek's edge. It took a moment for what he was seeing to process, before he realized it was the village's newest additions; Asterix and Obelix. Funny. He didn't see eithers' parents around. But that would mean the older children were watching them...But they weren't...which meant-
All at once, Obelix disappeared over the bank, into the water beyond it. There was a large splash, and then Asterix let out a cry. Getafix lurched forward, knowing he would have to sprint the distance before the baby drowned. As he ran, Getafix saw the older children turn, Vitalstatistix rushing forward to help. But the Chieftain's son, swim though he was able to, would not be able to hold a child of Obelix's size above water when he could not reach the bottom himself! The druid's thoughts proved true; Vitalstatistix rising from the water with Obelix in his grasp, only to bob for a moment and then slip back under.
Getafix arrived there only a fraction of a second later. The water only came up to his lower chest, and he could easily stand up. Reaching down where the two had disappeared, the druid grabbed a fistful of material and hoisted the weight up out of the water. Dangling miserably, coughing and sputtering, Vitalstatistix hung there; baby Obelix still grasped in his arms. Getafix turned, sloshing to the shore, where he gently set them down. Obelix sneezed once or twice before launching into a loud wail at the horrible ordeal he had just undergone.
Getafix lifted Obelix into his arms, trying to sooth him. The infant didn't seem to be hurt; just frightened. And maybe a little angry; as babies will be sometimes. As soon as Obelix's crying settled, the druid, picking up Asterix in his arms as well, looked around at the assembled children. Most of them were quite pale, frightened by the near-disaster. Others looked uncomfortable, as though they knew what had happened, and were partly responsible for it. But the face that was easiest to read was Vitalstatistix's. The pure terror and guilt the boy was demonstrating in his expression and tense body language was so clear, Getafix didn't even find it necessary to ask whose fault it was that Asterix and Obelix were here, down by the creek. Unwatched.
"I want you children to go play someplace else today. The creek is off limits until the water's depth diminishes."
There was an audible groan from all present, but like pups with their tales tucked between their legs, the youngsters turned and left to go and find someplace to play. They all sent Vitalstatistix sympathetic glances as they passed him. The Chieftain's son, to his credit, remained where he was. He knew he was at fault, and he knew that Getafix knew it too.
Once the last child had disappeared around the corner, Getafix turned a pair of stern eyes on the boy. "Vitalstatistix, tell me what happened. Why are Asterix and Obelix away from their mothers?"
Vitalstatistix traced a line in the dirt with his foot nervously. "Well, ah...I..." He sighed, trying to get himself in control and answer properly. "Sarsaparilla and Vanilla went with my mom to the market this morning, to buy breakfast." Getafix nodded, still looking firm, and the boy continued. "They told Doublehelix and I to watch Asterix and Obelix until they got back. But I wanted to go play, and since I couldn't leave them alone I...I took them with me." The child's voice rose up at the end, as though looking for approval. Getafix didn't give him any.
"Vitalstatistix, that was a very foolish thing to do."
The boy's spirits sank even lower. "I know."
"Something bad could have happened; it almost did!"
"Yes, Sir."
"What you did was very untrustworthy of you, and things could have gone very, very badly. Obelix could have drowned." The druid's face softened as he gazed down at the Chieftain's son. The boy's shoulders had slumped forward, and his head and eyes were averted in shame. Getafix had to try hard not to chuckle at the child's true and honest sorrow of what he had done. Kneeling the best he could with an armload of squirming infants, Getafix caught Vitalstatistix's gaze. "But you also jumped in that water to save Obelix, at the risk of your own life. That was a very brave thing to do." He smiled. "If you promise never to do it again, I'll keep this to myself."
That caught Vitalstatistix's attention. "You mean, you won't tell?"
"I won't tell." Getafix could see that the boy had learned his lesson. More chastisement would not be needed. Handing Asterix to Vitalstatistix, the druid placed his free hand on the older child's shoulders. "Let's get them back to your hut before they're missed."
It turned out that they already had been missed. The mothers had arrived back at the hut a good several moments before Vitalstatistix and Getafix did, carrying the babies. Needless to say, they were very worried, and Vitalstatistix's mother demanded to know where her son had been.
Vitalstatistix had looked up at Getafix. The druid was as good as his word; tight-lipped and completely ungiving of any information. And that filled the Chieftain's son with relief...but also guilt. The whole incident had really been his fault. To lie would only make him feel even more ashamed, and he really didn't want to be a disappointment to anyone. And so, taking a deep, shuttering breath, Vitalstatistix had told the truth.
It was easier than he had expected it to be. He was still sent to bed early as punishment, but it was a far better fate than the feelings of guilt he would have carried otherwise. His mother had made it quite clear that he would not be babysitting again for some time. Maybe forever. But that was alright by him. He wasn't used to having people under his care. He didn't like the idea of having to be responsible for others. And though he liked to play Chief, he was all at once very glad that Doublehelix was next in line for that. The thought of his brother made Vitalstatistix smile. Doublehelix hadn't gotten away with sneaking off and leaving his younger brother with the babies. As heir to the village, Doublehelix's punishment had been a tad bit harsher; including a very loud and angry speech delivered by his father. At least Vitalstatistix had been spared that. His big brother lay across the room from him, in bed and brooding. Justice in its very essence.
Despite his lecturing that he had received from his mother, Vitalstatistix didn't feel half as bad as he had expected to. That was partially due to the warmth that had filled him when Getafix had reacted to him telling the truth. The druid had locked eyes with him, a look of pride twinkling in his blue gaze. That alone had made everything a lot more bearable. All Vitalstatistix wanted was for someone to be proud of him. And he was glad that Getafix was, even if everyone else was not. Maybe their new druid wouldn't be so bad a teacher after all. The old fellow had already taught Vitalstatistix a lesson in truthfulness, even if the Chief's son himself didn't quite understand how.
So he got sent to bed early. Real early; it was only late morning. But he realized that he had done what he should have. He had made a mistake, but had done his best to fix it. And when the next test had come his way, he had passed it with flying colors. That was something that made him feel very grown up all of a sudden. He felt older, more responsible; because he had taken responsibility for his actions. It really wasn't so bad. He was, after all, older than most of the children in the village. Why shouldn't he act older; take them under his wing?
Right then and there, Vitalstatistix decided that he would try to be an example for the others. He would try and do what was right, and maybe regain the trust his mistake that day had cost him. He knew he'd have Getafix's support. It was a worthy goal, and it was one he truly wanted to fulfill. Just no more babysitting; at least not until he was a little older.
What could it hurt...to act his age?