Milo blinked twice, groaned and rolled over, spouting off muffled curses as the pain intensified, then relented.
"OK, moving is a bad idea," he said, scowling. Perfect. If he could remember what actually happened, though, he could possibly make this go better.
Oh. Right. He remembered now. There'd been three monsters at the movies, and the third has got away. They'd escaped to the dimension machine and flipped the coin. The coin had landed on its side, it began to hum threateningly...and Dotti's hand had slipped out of his. He sat up, looking for silver hair and a pair of expressive green eyes. Nope, no Dotti. Just grass, a dusty dirt path, a hill and a young man, a year or two older than him, setting up a bedroll.
"Bit early for sleep, isn't it?" Milo croaked. The young man startled and spun around, revealing a head of messy black hair, blue eyes, large ears and a wide smile. He was clad in trousers and blue shirt with a dark red neckerchief. He smiled widely at Milo.
"You're awake!" he exclaimed, striding over and dropping to his knees beside Milo. "How're you feeling?" he asked. Milo shrugged, smiling weakly. "Tired. Worried. Where am I?"
"About halfway between Cenred's kingdom and Camelot," the young man said. "What's your name?"
"I'm Milo. Milo Sage," Milo said. "You?"
"Merlin, I'm from Ealdor," said the young man, extending his hand. Milo shook it, hiding his shock. He vaguely knew a few Arthurian myths, but what he did know for certain was that myths had variations upon variations. Best not to say anything and just play it by ear, he decided.
"That's nice," Milo said. "So, Merlin, are you going towards Camelot, or is it just on your way?" he asked, lying back, absently plucking a long blade of grass and idly chewing on the stalk. Merlin flopped onto his back, so that they were lying parallel, side-by-side.
"To Camelot. I'm going to lear-to–to stay, with my uncle," Merlin said hurriedly. Milo raised an eyebrow at the stammer, but shrugged and didn't question it. If Merlin didn't want to spill all his secrets to someone he'd known for less than five minutes, well, that simply proved he had an ounce of common sense.
"Good for yo– watch out!" Milo yelled, both pain and conversational pleasantries forgotten, as an empousa exploded out of the ground. She must have followed us here, he realised, heart sinking. We didn't manage to kill her.
Merlin rolled to his feet, and Milo's eyes widened. She was a knockout. Red hair, amber eyes, tanned skin, perfect teeth in a gorgeous smile and straight, small nose. Literally, it was a face with no flaws.
Yeah, she was definitely an empousa. Rule number 36b: with your luck, anything too good to be true is, without exceptions. A face with no flaws definitely qualified. Inconsistency number one, Milo told himself encouragingly. Keep finding inconsistencies and she can't get to you. He glanced beside him and then groaned. Merlin was staring at the empousa, his expression dazed.
...Was that drool collecting at the corner of his mouth?
Oh, shit-a-brick.
"Hello, boys," the monster giggled, stepping closer. Milo gripped Merlin's shoulder firmly and stepped back. The empousa pouted, showing off outrageously full lips.
"Oh, darlings," she purred. "Don't shy away, now. I can't stand Mama's boys, after all." Milo growled in response to that, but Merlin almost sprang forward, as if to prove his worth to the she-demon. Milo yanked him back forcefully, shoving him to the ground.
"Merlin!" he hissed. "Listen to me, that woman is a monster!"
"She's no monster!" Merlin protested. "Can't you see it, Milo? She's beautiful!"
Milo rolled his eyes in exasperation and began to try and reason with Merlin, when the empousa giggled and glided closer, hips swinging in a none-too-subtle hint.
"Now, now, boys. I'm sure that there's plenty for both of you," she said, lifting her eyebrows suggestively. She leaned closer; close enough for Milo to smell her. She smelled of roses...and horse? Milo found his gaze fixed on those lips, luscious, full and gleaming bright red like blood. She leaned in closer, and closer, and it actually seemed like quite a good idea to just give her one little ki–
NO, something in him screamed, and he closed his eyes. Instead of smoking amber eyes, curly red hair and a flawless face, he could see green eyes sparkling with laughter, straight white hair and a face that was transformed by a lovable grin. Dotti, his sister, staying up night after night to help him with his pronounced dyslexia, playfully smacking him round the head and always helping him up when he'd gotten knocked down.
Milo opened his eyes, pushed the empousa away with an enraged shout, and tapped his pen, once, twice. The bronze sword glinted in the sun, and he grinned wolfishly at the empousa, who blinked at the blade and laughed nervously, backing away.
"Now, now, there's no need for that," she simpered. "Didn't your mortal parent tell you to play nice with ladies?" she batted her eyelashes at him. He ignored the action, answered the question.
"They did. Dotti always overruled them," he replied.
With a hiss, the empousa changed. Her skin drained of colour until it was paler than snow, her teeth became fangs and her amber eyes turned red. The empousa was fast, and she lunged, straight for his jugular. Milo, cursing the time it took for his watch to expand into his shield, dodged and skipped backwards, risking a glance in Merlin's direction. Whereas before he had drooled, now he was just plain shell-shocked. I can't blame him, Milo thought grimly, dodging another strike from the empousa, whose form was becoming a distraction in its own right as it flickered between Hollywood supermodel and man-eating parasite.
Finally! His shield had expanded to its required size. He blocked the next strike and stabbed her through the heart, pulling his sword out. She vaporised, leaving him covered from head to toe in dust. After a long coughing fit, he turned to Merlin and raised an eyebrow.
"See why I told you to duck, now?" he said, crossing his arms. He was aware that there were a few other things to think of right now, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.
Merlin shook his head for a few seconds, and then looked at Milo. "Mind if I sit down for a few seconds?" he asked. Milo gave him a smile.
"Yeah, sure," he said. Merlin sank to the ground and breathed deeply. Milo also sat, sheathing his sword.
"So...what was that?" Merlin asked, gesturing to the dust that covered Milo.
"An empousa," Milo answered simply. "They're–" he hesitated, then went on. "They're like a race of demons – she-demons. They're monsters, obviously. They have two legs, one's hollow and the other's the leg of a donkey – that's why that one smelled a bit horsy, if you like. Fangs instead of teeth, hair on fire, red eyes...well, you saw her," Milo said, jerking his head towards the empousa. "They've got amazing powers of deception."
Merlin swallowed. "What would she have done, if you hadn't–" his voice trailed off, unable to articulate it.
"Hadn't stepped in?" Milo suggested tactfully. Merlin nodded and Milo closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and meeting Merlin's gaze squarely. "She would have kissed you, and then while you were distracted, she would have sucked your blood out. Killed you," he said simply. "That's how they survive. They prey on men, from fifteen to thirty."
Merlin blinked, and Milo slung an arm around his shoulders in a one-armed hug. Merlin raised an eyebrow, and Milo blushed, retracting it.
"Sorry," he said. "It's just that – well, I grew up in a touchy-feely household, if you know what I mean," he explained. Merlin shook his head.
"It's fine, I'm just not used to it. Give me a minute or so." Milo nodded and waited patiently, as Merlin looked into the distance. After a little while, Merlin spoke.
"So, why'd she explode when you stabbed her?"
Milo unsheathed his blade, laying it across his knees. He tapped the blade. "Celestial bronze. It can't harm mortals – humans, I mean – but it vaporizes monsters like that she-demon," he explained. Merlin's eyebrow rose.
"You say mortal like you're not," he observed. Milo winced.
"Well, I sort of am," he hedged, the blush darkening. Merlin's eyebrow rose even further, and he swivelled to face Milo, folding his arms across his chest.
"Care to explain?" he enquired. Milo hesitated, then decided he might as well spill his guts.
"I will, but for the love of all that's sacred, please, keep it a secret," he said. Merlin nodded, looking at Milo earnestly.
"Of course. You've just saved my life, after all," Merlin said.
Milo hesitated again, steeled himself, nodded and began. "I come from–I come from a place very different to here. It's in a...a different world, I should say. About five...yes, five years ago, I built a machine that could take me to different worlds, at the flip of a coin. That's how I got here. I never knew my mother, when I was a little kid. See, she wasn't married to my father, when she had me. Or before, or after." Merlin looked pityingly at Milo and Milo grinned easily. "Oh, Merlin, don't look so sad about it. It's not so bad, being a bastard. Well, love-child, I suppose, is the politically correct term. Anyway, my mum wasn't married to my father when she had me, and this was because she couldn't marry him. She was a goddess."
Merlin shrugged. "Yes, I think my mother's a bit of a goddess too. She has to be, to have managed to raise me."
Milo's grin widened a bit. "Ah, not that kind of goddess. I mean the immortal kind of goddess. Ichor, immortality, supernatural powers, force of nature, the whole bit. Her name is Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom, useful arts, invention, battle, strategy and reasoned warfare. Hence why she couldn't stick around to raise me. She had immortal duties to attend to, stuff like that, but she still helped protect me as a kid. Now, for as long as I can remember, I've had a friend. She was like me. Her mother wasn't married to her father when she was conceived or born either. Her mother was Nemesis, the goddess of justice, vengeance and balance. We grew up together, have been best friends for as long as I can remember. We might as well have been twins," Milo continued.
Merlin nodded, absorbing this slowly. "So where does the exploding she-demon dust come into this?"
Milo waved a hand. "I know, but I'm getting there. When we were six, our fathers thought it was time for us to go to a place called Camp Half-Blood, where demigods train to fight monsters and win. That's where we got the sword. Celestial bronze can only harm gods, demigods and monsters, like that empousa. Most monsters vaporise, or explode into dust, when dealt a suitable blow with a celestial blade." He frowned for a few seconds, then nodded.
"That covers everything, I think."
Merlin nodded, processing this. "Right...good explanation," he said.
"So glad it meets with your approval," Milo said sarcastically.
"Oh, believe me, you wouldn't want to see my disapproval," Merlin said. Milo snorted. "Yeah? What's your secret?"
Merlin smiled and nodded, looking meaningfully at wildflower.
"See that flower, there?" he asked.
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Just this." Merlin focused, and the flower flew over to Milo, tucking itself into one of his blond curls. Milo spluttered indignantly, removing the flower, then looked at Merlin.
"You can move objects around?" Milo asked.
"I don't know what it is, I just know that I can," he said.
"Want to see something just as amazing?"
"Sure," said Merlin, looking interested. Milo closed his eyes, concentrated hard, and felt his body begin to change, until he was an owl, able to hear every detail he couldn't hear as a human. Glimfeather gave a soft hoot, and ruffled his wings. Hesitantly, Merlin held out an arm and Glimfeather hopped onto it.
"Whoa," Merlin said. "That is...just spectacular. You're an owl..but I can tell its you." He examined the owl thoughtfully. "It's got to be the colour, the feather colour," he said. Glimfeather changed back into human form and Milo hurriedly rolled off of Merlin.
"Yep, that's it," he said.
"You headed somewhere in particular?"
"Nah. Mind if I tag along with you?"
Merlin shrugged, a grin forming. "Why not? I'd like some company."
And thus began a beautiful friendship.
Dotti growled, rolling to her feet, mentally blessing the Quidditch Captains of Hufflepuff, who had managed to instil in all their players an ability to hate their life, hate the very idea of getting up with a passion, and then get up all the same. The events of the past hours came flooding back to her and she shook her head, berating herself for letting go of Milo's hand, until logic kicked in and told her to observe her surroundings before something had the opportunity to eat her.
She looked around, her eyes narrowing, and quickly took in her surroundings. A forest, the sunlight flooding through the thin canopy. Apparently, there was nothing about to kill her. She frowned and glanced upwards. It was mid-morning. Quickly, she found north and started walking briskly. North was the easiest direction to find, and she had as much a chance of finding people in that direction as any other, she reasoned, as she began to hum, distracted.
So, priority number one: find human life.
Priority number two: secure temporary food, water and shelter.
Priority number three: learn of current location.
Priority number four: find Milo.
Priority number five: find useful occupation?
She nodded as she walked, satisfied with her mental list, and hummed a little louder, a bit more life to her walk. She knew what she was doing, and now she could figure things out.
A few hours later, the woods began to thin, and she could see a small house, not three hundred metres away. She walked towards it, treading lightly and not walking in the open. As she came closer, the picture grew firmer. The house was actually more like a cottage, and a woman, perhaps in her fifties, was dozing in the sunlight on a chair outside. She weighed up her options, and nodded as she settled on one.
"Good morning, ma'am," she said brightly. The old woman awoke with a start and she repeated the greeting.
"Aye, and good morning to you too, youngster," the woman said. She smiled.
"Thank you. I'm afraid I'm a stranger to these parts. Please, could you tell me where I am?" she asked. The woman's eyes narrowed.
"That's strange, I always thought you adventuring youngsters always knew where you were," she said. Dotti, klaxons ringing, gave her a sheepish grin, manned up (so to speak) and lied through her teeth.
"Well, most of us do, ma'am. But then again, I was always horrible with navigation." The easy, self-deprecating reply drew a peal of laughter from the old woman, which sparked off a conversation filled with anecdotes about various times each of them had gotten lost. Dotti was careful to not include the fact that her navigational skills had improved dramatically after her first quest.
The woman shook her head and smiled ruefully at her. "Saints forgive me, I've completely lost my manners. I suppose you'll be wanting supper, then? You're a big lassie, and still growing, I've no doubt," she chuckled, looking Dotti up and down with the appraising eyes of a practised mother. Dotti shifted awkwardly on her feet.
"I wouldn't like to impose on you, ma'am," she said shyly. The woman shook her head with surprising vigour.
"Nonsense," she insisted firmly. "I don't feast like a king, but it's a good life I lead, and what I have is mine to share. I've plenty to spare, after all."
Dotti submitted to the older woman's will. "Very well, ma'am. But then you must allow me to help you with something," she said. The woman laughed.
"Oh, don't worry about that, miss. There's plenty to do."
The old woman, Anna, Dotti discovered, had five children, four boys and a girl, and they'd left her home many years ago. She kept some chickens and reared a few litters of pigs every so often and grew her own vegetables. After they'd eaten, Anna cleared her throat.
"You'll be staying the night, I take it?" she asked. Dotti had a distinct impression that this was Not A Question. She nodded meekly.
"If that's all right with you, ma'am, I'd be obliged."
The children of the household had all slept in the one room, on a large pallet. Dotti made herself comfortable, and allowed herself to think.
So, I'm in a house. I've found human life, food, shelter and water. I think I can trust this woman. I think. Not closer to finding Milo, but...this could be a big place. I should probably get oriented first.
Still, she felt quite sure that Milo was safe. Safe, unharmed, and alive and that was the main thing.
Author's note:
OK, for those of you who are new, hello and welcome! To old fans of Dotti and Milo, if there are any of you out there, welcome as well! I feel that I need to add some orienting information, so here goes.
Milo's a son of Athena and Dotti's a daughter of Nemesis, both raised in Sydney, Australia. They met at the age of three, had been living together with their fathers since they were four. So, they're not actually twins by blood, but they might as well be. When they were eleven, Milo built a machine that could hop dimensions and worlds, with the flip of a coin. Tails = magic world and heads = ancient world. In this case, as the coin landed on its side, they were transported to Merlin's Albion, a world that both has magic and is old. Right now, they're about sixteen.
This is the first arc of the story, called The Sage, His Lioness and the Red Cloaks, it corresponds to the first arc of series one. As the title suggests, it's primarily Milo-centric, but you do see flashes of Dotti's escapades. Thanks for reading, and I'd be thankful if you left a review.