Role Model
By Suzume, for Tenshikain
Jan. 29 - Feb. 4, 2008
Bright bumped his snout affectionately against his master's side and Futch reached absently to stroke his smooth, white scales. When Bright had first hatched he had been tiny enough to carry in his arms. Girls had cooed at the baby dragon's big, sweet eyes both at the castle on Lake Dunan and once again in Harmonia where he researched mythic dragons with Humphrey.
The building was circular with windows placed high all around so it was easy to mark the passing of time. Futch lugged a stack of books to a table and began searching through their pages for the knowledge he sought.
"Dragons, dragons," he murmured again and again, running his finger along the tiny type of the index. "Dragons: habits of, knights, types of...black, blue gray...gold...white...wild..."
He scribbled down several page numbers with a short and well-chewed pencil. Bright was still so young he wanted to test the flavor of everything and see if it was good to eat. ...Speaking of Bright...where had he gone? He had been under the chair leaning against Futch's leg just a minute ago. Futch jumped up and surveyed the area immediately around the table. There was no sign of Bright.
"Great," he gritted his teeth. How could he be so careless as to let Bright sneak away without his knowing?! Taking a deep breath to calm himself and steady his mind, Futch picked a direction and began walking quickly down the aisle, scanning each area that opened up in another direction.
Futch found himself becoming a bit frantic like a parent with a lost child. His face was flushed red with hot anxiety. This library was enormous and he was beginning to lose track of which direction he had even come from when from behind him came a sudden call, in a voice deep and familiar.
"...Yo."
It was Humphrey- holding Bright securely in his arms. Two Harmonian girls followed slightly behind the tall man.
"We found your dragon over by the reference books," one of the girls announced.
"He's so cute," her hazel-haired companion giggled. "And when Sir Humphrey showed up to take him back to you, the contrast of being held by a big warrior made him even cuter."
Despite the girlish "awws" over the situation, Humphrey didn't seem embarrassed in the least. Futch was simply relieved.
"Humphrey..." he sighed, missing the tall, silent warrior. Humphrey with his neat haircut, his strong arms, and his thoughtful gaze. "He was always there to guide me and stop me from being too hot-headed. When some great passion moved me I never stopped to think."
Bright followed him past Barts' fields of curly grapevines and succulent tomatoes toward the front edge of the castle grounds. A young Alma Kinan girl was splashing a duck with water from the fountain. Sharon was sitting on the steps, blocking the way of several Chishan women carrying baskets of fruit. The village women struggled to step around the blond girl without tripping or dropping their produce.
"I wasn't ever as inconsiderate as that," Futch thought, "...Or was I?" he worried. He had usually behaved obediently and he imagined that he had been at least a little more considerate of others than Sharon was, but that could just be the conceit of an elder criticizing the young generation.
"Sharon!" he called, "Come over here!"
His wayward charge hopped up and sauntered over to him, opening up the path for the many busy people at Budehuc. "What is it?" she asked.
"Let's go watch the horse races," he suggested, feeling no particular need to mention how he had wanted to unblock the steps.
"Okay," the slim girl agreed casually, following a bit behind Futch. Bright squeaked out a shrill shriek of friendly recognition as Sharon walked beside him. "Oh, you should have Bright enter the races!" Sharon squeaked, amused by this new idea. "I bet he could fly around the track much faster than those horses run it!"
"I think he'd have to run just like the horses or it'd be considered cheating," Futch laughed back, looking at her over his shoulder. If there was one thing Sharon had in excess, it was spunk. Despite the way her running off alone and talking back annoyed him, overall Futch was happy for her company. Looking out for her made him feel like an older brother (he wasn't ready to consider that it might make him feel like a father). Humphrey, though he never said so, must have felt something similar as he traveled with and watched over Futch.
"Let me scrub your back," Futch offered to his friend.
"I wish someone would volunteer to wash my back for me," Viktor sighed.
"Maybe if you tried losing a few pounds and learning some manners," Flik scoffed.
Humphrey grunted in thanks to Futch as the mercenaries continued their squabble disregarded by the others in the bath. After scrubbing down thoroughly they did not stay to soak for long, the usual relative peace obstructed by Viktor's gentle but noisy complaining. Instead, toasty and comfortable, they headed to the restaurant.
"...Eat your vegetables," Humphrey reminded his charge when their meals arrived at the table.
"Of course," Futch replied, proving himself by eating the broccoli first.
Sharon leaned on the ramshackle fence watching the horses go by. Fubar trailed them by a good distance. Hugo clung to his mount with a look of pathetic disappointment. "I sure hope no one bet on me," he was heard to moan. Clumsy or not, Fubar seemed to be having a pleasant time. Sharon laughed loudly.
Futch thought of her mother. If Milia had a similar laugh, he had never heard it. The chuckle that usually escaped the commander's lips was restrained and not as deep.
Among the other onlookers observing the race Dios was ripping up his ticket into many little pieces. "Argh! How could my luck be this bad!" he gasped in exasperation.
"Looks like someone bet on Hugo and Fubar," Futch could not help but laugh. There hadn't been any horse racing at either of the castles he and Humphrey had stayed at in the past, but he had had the opportunity to see some pretty poor judgment made concerning gambling (primarily on chinchirorin). And occasionally there had been foot races when some foolhardy individual chose to challenge Stallion's claim of being the fastest man alive.
"I wonder if I could learn to ride a horse," Sharon mused, watching as Percival was declared the winner of this race amidst plenty of cheering and shouting. Kathy was shaking the victorious knight's hand heartily.
Futch recalled how he had felt about Humphrey in those days of his youth. The warrior had been father, friend, and teacher to him. If it hadn't been for Humphrey, he wouldn't have found Bright and re-entered the Dragon Knights. Who knew what his life would have been like. Of course, with both her parents alive, Sharon was in a somewhat different position than he had been. But still...
"Am I Sharon's Humphrey?" The notion struck him suddenly, and in many ways it seemed an accurate designation considering their relationship. But Futch was disinclined to want to liken himself to the greatness he saw in his dear old friend.
"No, I couldn't be," he decided, drumming the thought into his mind by shaking his head. Humphrey was quieter and more patient. Still, roles aside, they shared a sword.
Sharon, growing bored with the scene before her, tugged on Futch's arm. "Come on, let's go do something else! C'mon!"
Futch, still lost in thought, allowed himself to be dragged along.