Silbón's ghostly shoulders slumped as he watched Morro's small, pouty figure closely. The boyish, regressed version of the Master of Wind sniffled quietly, his balled fists resting on his knees as he sulked. Silbón rolled his dark eyes faintly, muttering under his breath, "If I don't find something for him to eat, he'll either burst into tears or wander off and get himself eaten by something."
With a resigned huff, Silbón turned away, his translucent form flickering as he stepped into the surrounding mist. The eerie glow of the forest cast strange shadows on the ground as he moved, his focus narrowing in on his task. Finding edible plants in Mysterium wasn't easy, especially ones that weren't cursed or poisonous, but Silbón knew it was better than leaving Morro to fend for himself. He muttered faintly as he searched, "Why is it always me cleaning up after him? Master of Wind, indeed."
After what felt like an eternity of scavenging, Silbón returned to the clearing with a handful of peculiar fruits—purple-hued, slightly luminous, but safe enough. His dark eyes scanned the area, expecting to find Morro curled up where he'd left him, sulking like the oversized toddler he currently was.
But instead, Morro was gone.
Silbón froze, the fruits slipping slightly in his grip as his spectral form flickered sharply. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the misty expanse for any sign of his companion. "Great," he muttered darkly, his voice dripping with irritation. "Just great. Leave him alone forfiveminutes, and he disappears. That beetle's bite has turned him into a sitting duck, and now he's gone wandering off into Mysterium. Fantastic."
His skeletal fingers curled tightly around the fruits as he exhaled sharply. "All right, Morro. If you've gotten yourself tangled in something else, don't expect me to save your sorry hide again."
Silbón stepped forward into the mist, the faint echo of his words carried by the swirling wind as he disappeared into the shifting shadows of Mysterium, his search for Morro now officially underway.
Unbeknownst to Silbón, Morro had been drawn away by a flickering light—a will o' wisp, faint and ethereal, its soft glow a beacon in the misty forest. He stumbled after it, his small hands reaching out instinctively, his childlike curiosity taking hold. The creature danced ahead, flitting gracefully between the gnarled trees, its presence mesmerizing yet calming. Morro, his regression still in full effect, giggled softly as he followed it deeper into the unknown, the light casting faint reflections in his wide, innocent eyes.
The deeper he wandered, the more the forest seemed to change. The dense mist thinned slightly, revealing an area teeming with life—gentle creatures, both real and mythical, emerging from their hidden places. To Morro's surprise, they weren't shy or skittish; instead, they began to gather around him as though drawn to his softened presence.
Among the creatures were real animals—majestic deer with delicate antlers, their gentle eyes watching him with curiosity; tiny chipmunks scurrying across the ground, pausing to sniff at his toes; and colorful birds fluttering down, their songs weaving a melodic harmony as they perched nearby. Even a red fox emerged from the brush, its sharp ears swiveling as it padded closer, sniffing at Morro's hand before settling beside him.
But the forest offered more than its earthly inhabitants. Mythical creatures slowly joined the gathering, their movements graceful and unthreatening. A kirin stepped forward—a magnificent Japanese creature resembling a stag, its shimmering scales glinting faintly as its golden mane rippled in the breeze. The kirin bowed its head slightly, a gesture of curiosity rather than dominance, as Morro giggled and reached out toward it.
Nearby, a púca—a mischievous but kind-hearted Irish shapeshifter in the form of a silvery horse—trotted into view, its mane flowing as it nuzzled Morro's cheek softly. A faint sparkle accompanied its movements, as though it carried a piece of starlight within it. Morro giggled again, his fingers gripping its mane briefly before releasing it.
Other mythical beings joined the scene—a softly glowing kodama, the guardian spirit of the forest, perched quietly on a branch above him, its presence serene and watchful. A selkie, its human-like features emerging just faintly from its seal-like body, lingered near the water's edge of a small brook, its gaze curious but calm. Even a faery-like creature, delicate and faintly shimmering, hovered above Morro's head, its tiny wings fluttering as it sprinkled faint traces of light onto his hair.
Morro sat in the center of the gathering, cross-legged, his childlike awe evident as he gazed at the creatures surrounding him. The will o' wisp that had led him here flickered softly nearby, its glow casting an almost protective aura around him. He reached out a hand toward it, his eyes sparkling with innocent wonder. "You're pretty," he said softly, his voice high-pitched and filled with youthful fascination.
The creatures, drawn to his gentleness and vulnerability, lingered around him without fear or malice. They didn't demand anything, nor did they shy away. They simply existed alongside him, their presence a testament to the forest's strange yet soothing magic.
Then Morro, still in his childlike state, noticed movement in the distance—shadows weaving between the trees. His wide, curious eyes caught the faint glint of moonlight reflecting off fur, and his heart leapt with excitement. A pack of wolves had appeared, their sleek forms cutting gracefully through the mist as they moved in a steady, unified rhythm. Without hesitation, Morro jumped to his feet, his previous companions—both real and mythical—watching as he darted after the wolves with all the reckless enthusiasm of a small child.
"Wait!" Morro called out, giggling as he clumsily chased them, his bare feet pattering against the soft forest floor. "Wait for me!"
The wolves slowed, their ears swiveling back as they noticed him. Their sharp, intelligent eyes glinted faintly in the soft light, and their movements paused in unison. Morro skidded to a halt a short distance from the pack, his small form vibrating with unrestrained energy. Any normal person—any sane person—might have hesitated at the sight of so many predators gathered in one place. But Morro, in his regressed, childlike state, only saw them as big, fluffy creatures waiting for him to join the fun.
One of the wolves, a large alpha with a coat of silvery-gray fur, stepped forward, its piercing eyes locking onto Morro. The alpha's presence was commanding, its posture calm but alert. Morro beamed up at the wolf, completely unafraid, and waved enthusiastically. "Hi!" he said, his voice cheerful and bright. "Can I play with you?"
The wolf tilted its head slightly, its sharp gaze softening ever so faintly as it studied the odd little human in front of it. There was no aggression in its stance, no hostility—just quiet observation, as though it were trying to make sense of this strange child who had wandered into its midst. After a moment, the alpha stepped closer, its movements deliberate but gentle. It sniffed at Morro, the wolf's nose brushing against the boy's wrist where the Innocence Beetle had bitten him. Satisfied, the alpha huffed softly and turned back to the pack.
To Morro's delight, the wolves didn't attack him or drive him away. Instead, they seemed to accept him, their movements relaxing as the pack surrounded him. One of the younger wolves playfully bumped its nose against Morro's hand, earning a delighted giggle from the boy. Another nudged his shoulder, its tail wagging slightly as though inviting him to follow. Morro laughed, his joy infectious as he reached out to pet the wolves' thick fur.
"You're so soft!" he exclaimed, his small hands running through the silvery coat of the nearest wolf. "I'm Morro. Can I be part of your pack?"
The wolves, as if understanding his intent, began to move again, this time including him in their rhythm. The alpha looked back once, its gaze lingering on the boy, before leading the pack forward. Morro followed eagerly, his laughter ringing out as the wolves weaved through the forest, their movements fluid and harmonious. To them, he was no threat—just a curious, harmless child. To him, they were the coolest, fluffiest friends he'd ever met.
Morro's small, childlike gaze drifted upward as he caught a shadow gliding across the misty canopy. His eyes widened as the silhouette emerged fully into view—a dragon, its wings massive and majestic, cutting through the air with effortless grace. The sheer size of it, the shimmering scales that reflected faint hues of emerald and gold, left him awestruck.
He froze in place, his lips parting as a soft whisper escaped him. "Daga," he breathed, his voice barely audible, filled with wonder. Another dragon followed, its crimson scales glinting like fire against the muted sky. Then another, this one deep blue, its wings moving as fluidly as waves. "Daga," Morro whispered again, his voice growing louder with each repetition.
"Daga, daga, daga!" The single word turned into an excited chant, his whispers morphing into squeals of pure delight. His small frame trembled with unrestrained energy, his excitement bubbling over as he bounced slightly in place, pointing toward the sky. He clapped his hands together, his giggles echoing softly through the forest.
The wolves, who had remained close and watchful, stiffened at his sudden outburst. Their ears flicked back, and the alpha growled low, a warning rumbling deep in its chest. The other wolves followed suit, their low growls weaving together in a unified chorus. They weren't hostile, but their body language clearly conveyed caution. The pack's instincts told them that loud sounds and excitement in the forest could draw unwanted attention—and even danger.
Morro, however, froze at the sound, his wide eyes darting to the alpha. The wolf's sharp gaze pinned him in place, and his giggles faltered into nervous silence. His small hands gripped the edge of his tunic, his bottom lip trembling faintly. "I… I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice shaky and guilt-ridden. "I didn't mean to make you mad…"
To him, the wolves' growls felt like scolding—like an older sibling or caretaker reprimanding him for misbehaving. He lowered his gaze, his excitement dimming as he shuffled closer to the pack, seeking quiet reassurance. The alpha huffed softly, its growl fading as it nudged him gently with its nose, as though signaling that it wasn't angry—just cautious.
Morro sniffled lightly, his childlike guilt giving way to a faint smile as he leaned into the wolf's soft fur. "Daga," he murmured again, quieter this time, his gaze drifting back to the sky. The dragons continued their flight overhead, their majestic forms vanishing into the mist, leaving Morro's heart brimming with wonder.
Silbón suddenly stumbled into the clearing, his spectral form flickering faintly with exhaustion as he finally caught sight of Morro. The boy was sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, surrounded by wolves who had all settled comfortably around him, their sharp eyes flicking briefly to Silbón before relaxing again. Morro, however, seemed blissfully unaware of Silbón's approach, his childlike focus entirely on a tiny glowing will o' wisp that hovered just above his outstretched hand.
Silbón leaned against a tree, his skeletal fingers gripping the trunk for support as he caught his breath. "You... you set a mean pace, kid!" he said, his voice rasping slightly with exasperation. "I didn't know I'd signed up for a marathon across Mysterium."
Morro's head snapped up, his wide, innocent eyes locking onto Silbón with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Silbón!" he squealed, scrambling to his feet and nearly tripping over a wolf's tail in the process. "Look! Look at my new friends!" He gestured enthusiastically to the wolves, who regarded Silbón with calm but watchful expressions.
Silbón groaned, running a skeletal hand over his translucent face. "Of course," he muttered. "Of course you'd make friends with a pack of wolves while I'm out here scrounging for food and chasing down every glimmer of light in the mist. Why wouldn't you?"
Morro tilted his head, his childlike expression twisting into a small pout. "You're mad at me," he said softly, his bottom lip wobbling slightly. "I'm sorry, Silbón. I just wanted to follow the light and...and see the fluffy doggies."
Silbón sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he shook his head. "I'm not mad, Morro," he said, his tone softening slightly as he stepped closer. "Just... tired. And you wandering off like that? Do you know how much trouble you could've gotten yourself into? You're practically a buffet in your current state."
Morro blinked, tilting his head. "What's a buffet?" he asked innocently, the question sending Silbón into a momentary spiral of despair.
Silbón pressed his spectral fingers to his temples, muttering, "We'll circle back to that later. For now, just—stay where I can see you. Please."
Morro nodded enthusiastically, his earlier pout replaced by a bright smile. "Okay! But you should meet the fluffy doggies! They're so soft!" He reached out to pet the alpha, who huffed lightly but allowed it, the pack seemingly protective of their new, peculiar "kin."
Silbón crossed his arms, watching the scene with a mix of exhaustion, disbelief, and grudging admiration. "You're a magnet for chaos, Morro," he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness. "A literal magnet."
Suddenly, a sharp crack-snap startled Silbón, setting every nerve on edge. Something was clearly close, and Silbón had a feeling it wouldn't be gracious to strangers. He thought fast as he tried to figure out how to get Morro out of there without alerting the approaching creature to their presence.
And then an idea came. It wasn't a good idea, but it was an idea, nonetheless.
In true El Silbón fashion, Silbón took a deep, eerie breath, and with an almost otherworldly skill, let out a haunting, low whistle. The sound drifted through the misty forest, carrying a melody that was both mesmerizing and strangely soothing. It curled around the trees, wrapping itself in the quiet and reaching Morro with a precision only Silbón could manage.
The childlike Morro froze mid-pet, his hand still resting on the alpha wolf's soft fur. His eyes grew heavy almost immediately, the eerie lullaby tugging at his mind and coaxing him into rest. "Daga..." he murmured, his voice trailing off into a soft yawn as he sagged gently onto the forest floor. Within moments, Morro was fast asleep, curled up once more like the child he currently resembled, his breathing slow and rhythmic.
The wolves stirred at the sound but did not grow hostile. Instead, they seemed to recognize the melody as something calming, their sharp eyes watching Silbón as he approached the slumbering Morro.
Silbón crouched beside him, his spectral form flickering faintly as he gazed down at the boy. "You've got no idea how lucky you are that worked," he muttered, more to himself than to Morro. He poked the boy's side lightly with one translucent finger, confirming that he was indeed out cold. Sighing heavily, Silbón straightened up and ran a skeletal hand down his translucent face.
"Great. Now I have to carry you again." He crouched once more, sliding his arms under Morro's limp form and hoisting him up with another soft groan. "For a kid who barely eats, you're deceptively heavy," he muttered as he adjusted his grip, grumbling softly under his breath.
The wolves watched silently as Silbón began his trek back, their eyes following his movements but offering no interference. Silbón's whistle lingered faintly in the air, the melody fading into the mist as he carried Morro toward safety—though not without a healthy dose of grumbling along the way.
As Silbón trudged along, carrying the slumbering Morro, he tried not to think about the exhaustion pulling at his translucent form. The rhythmic sound of the boy's breathing was oddly calming, but Silbón knew this tranquility wouldn't last. And sure enough, as the forest cleared and the mist thinned, Morro stirred. The boy's small fists twitched, his breathing hitched, and his eyes snapped open, still wide and innocent from the regression.
Silbón barely had a chance to shift his grip before Morro began to wail—a high-pitched, ear-piercing cry that made Silbón flinch. "Waaaaah! My fweinds!" Morro sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he wriggled in Silbón's arms. "Where are they? Where's the fluffy doggies? And the light? And the birdies?"
Silbón stared at the boy, utterly dumbfounded. His skeletal face remained impassive, but his mind was scrambling. "I… I don't know!" he said, his tone sharp with panic. "They're… back in the forest! Or wherever! You wandered off, and I had to drag you back!"
Morro's cries only grew louder, his small fists pounding lightly on Silbón's chest as his childlike emotions boiled over. "I want my fweinds!" he wailed, his voice trembling. "I want the fluffy doggies! You're mean!"
Silbón groaned, his spectral shoulders slumping as he realized he had no idea how to handle this. How was he supposed to soothe someone who thought wolves and will o' wisps were his "fweinds"? He'd never dealt with children—not even spectral ones. "I'm not mean, Morro," he muttered, his tone clipped with frustration. "You're just… loud. And dramatic. And—"
He paused, seeing the boy's trembling lip and tear-filled eyes. With a resigned sigh, Silbón softened his tone, shifting Morro's weight slightly as he sat down nearby. "Look, kid, you're fine. You're safe. And the fluffy doggies… they're still out there. Probably chasing light or something." He held the boy tighter to keep him from squirming away. "We'll see them again when you're back to yourself, all right? You won't even remember them right now. So… shhh."
Morro sniffled, his cries faltering slightly as he blinked up at Silbón. "We'll see them again?" he asked quietly, his small hands clinging to Silbón's spectral arm.
Silbón hesitated but nodded. "Yes, yes, we'll see them again. Just… calm down, okay? And maybe stop calling them fluffy doggies. They're wolves."
Morro nodded faintly, his tears drying as his breathing slowed. He nestled closer to Silbón, his small form sagging with drowsiness again. Silbón exhaled heavily, muttering under his breath, "I'm glad this only lasts a few hours. You're exhausting."
As Silbón trudged along, carrying the regressed and slumbering Morro, he felt a faint tickle on his translucent arm. He glanced down just in time to see a glistening trail of drool sliding from Morro's slack mouth onto his spectral form. Silbón froze, his dark eyes narrowing in horror. "Oh, no. No, no, no," he muttered, his voice sharp with disgust. "You didnotjust drool on me."
Before he could adjust his grip, Morro stirred, his small face scrunching up as he let out a soft sneeze—directly onto Silbón's chest. The ghost recoiled, his skeletal form flickering as he held Morro at arm's length. "Are you kidding me?" he hissed, his tone a mix of disbelief and revulsion. "Drool and snot? What's next, kid? You gonna—"
And then it happened. Morro's face crumpled, his eyes fluttering open as he let out a wail that echoed through the forest. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cried loudly, his small fists pounding weakly against Silbón's chest. "My fweinds!" he sobbed, his voice trembling. "I want my fweinds!"
Silbón groaned, his spectral shoulders slumping as he stared at the crying, drooling, sneezing mess in his arms. "Unbelievable," he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation. "You're like a one-man disaster zone. How do you even produce this much liquid?"
He shifted Morro's weight awkwardly, trying to avoid the worst of the tears and drool while still keeping a firm grip on the boy. "All right, all right," he said, his voice rising slightly over Morro's cries. "We'll find your 'fweinds' later, okay? Just—stop crying on me! I'm not a handkerchief!"
Morro sniffled, his sobs quieting slightly as he clung to Silbón's arm. "Promise?" he mumbled, his voice small and shaky.
Silbón sighed heavily, his dark eyes narrowing as he muttered, "Yes, I promise. Now can we please get moving before you sneeze on me again?"
Suddenly Morro's wide, childlike eyes darted to the faint burn marks left on Silbón's spectral arm, his panic rising instantly. "I—I did that?" he stammered, his voice trembling as his small hands clutched at his tunic. "I hurt you? I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Silbón recoiled slightly, his translucent form flickering as he examined the faint burns. His skeletal fingers brushed over the marks, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighed heavily. "It's not your fault, kid," he muttered, his tone clipped but not unkind. "You're a ghost, I'm a ghost—water doesn't exactly play nice with us. It's just how it is."
Morro sniffled, his tears threatening to spill again as he stared at Silbón with wide, guilt-ridden eyes. "But I didn't mean to!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "I didn't know it would hurt you! I'm sorry!"
Silbón groaned, dragging a spectral hand down his translucent face again as he muttered, "You're really laying it on thick, huh?" He crouched slightly, his dark eyes meeting Morro's directly. "Listen, it's fine. I've dealt with worse. You didn't do it on purpose, and it's not like I'm going to melt into a puddle over a few burns."
Morro sniffled again, his small hands trembling as he reached out hesitantly. "Can I fix it?" he asked softly, his voice quivering. "Can I make it better?"
Silbón straightened up, shaking his head as he adjusted his stance. "No, kid. You can't fix it. But you can stop crying about it, because that's not helping anyone." His tone softened slightly as he added, "Just be careful next time, all right? No more drooling, sneezing, or crying on me. Deal?"
Morro nodded faintly, his tears drying as he wiped his face with his sleeve. "Deal," he murmured, his voice small but steady.
Silbón sighed again, his spectral shoulders slumping as he muttered under his breath, "This regression can't wear off soon enough."
Silbón trudged along, his expression a mixture of resignation and exhaustion, as Morro, still nestled in his arms, alternated between sneezes. Some were dry, quick bursts that sounded almost like tiny squeaks. Others, however, were wet and disastrous, leaving Silbón flinching as though each one were a fresh attack.
"Seriously, kid," Silbón muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation. "How can one ghost—one small ghost—have so much... output? Is there some kind of sneeze reservoir in you that I should know about?"
Morro, his mind still childlike from the Innocence Beetle's bite, giggled between sneezes. "Big ones coming!" he declared, his voice full of youthful glee. And as if on cue, he let out a loud, wet sneeze that sent a fine mist of ghostly residue onto Silbón's translucent chest.
Silbón recoiled, his skeletal fingers twitching as he looked down at the offending splatter. "Oh, for crying out—why? Why me?" He shifted Morro slightly, holding him at arm's length as if distance could protect him from the sneezing storm. "You're like a little thundercloud of chaos, and I'm the unlucky tree."
Morro sniffled, rubbing his nose on his sleeve as he looked at Silbón with wide, innocent eyes. "I can't help it," he said, his tone apologetic but punctuated by a hiccupy giggle. "It tickles!"
Silbón groaned, his spectral shoulders slumping as he muttered, "It tickles me too, but not in a good way." He shook his head, shifting Morro back into a more comfortable position despite the risk of another sneeze. "You better be back to normal soon, because I can't take much more of this."
As if in response, Morro let out another sneeze—this one a dry, squeaky affair that left Silbón sighing heavily. "Yep," he muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. "This is my life now. A sneeze machine for a traveling companion."
As Morro finally ceased his relentless sneezing, Silbón let out a heavy, relieved sigh. "About time," he muttered, shifting the boy slightly in his arms. "If you'd kept that up, I'd be rethinking this whole ghostly immortality thing."
Morro giggled faintly, his face brightening with renewed energy as he began to talk, his words tumbling out in a stream of unfiltered enthusiasm. "Silbón, guess what I saw!" he exclaimed, his small hands gesturing wildly despite being cradled. "The fluffy doggies had wings! And one of them could fly up, up, up—like a daga!"
Silbón arched a translucent brow, his skeletal face betraying the faintest hint of intrigue. "Wolves with wings, huh?" he said dryly, though his tone softened as Morro continued.
"And then I saw a horse," Morro continued, his voice lilting with wonder, "but it wasn't a regular horse! It sparkled like stars, and it ran so fast that the ground turned to silver dust! And the light followed it everywhere, like magic!" His eyes widened, their innocent gleam shimmering faintly as he clutched Silbón's sleeve. "It was so pretty."
Silbón hummed thoughtfully, his dark eyes flickering as he carried Morro toward safer ground. "Starry horses and winged wolves," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "You've got quite the imagination, kid."
Morro's words didn't stop there, though. He leaned closer to Silbón, his voice dropping to an excited whisper. "And Silbón, guess what else! The elves were friends! They didn't mess up pillows or make glitter everywhere—they danced! They held hands and spun in circles, and they sang a song. It sounded like—" He paused, scrunching his face as he tried to replicate the melody with little humming noises. "—like this!"
Silbón tilted his head, his skeletal lips twitching faintly in a rare smile. "A song-singing troupe of elves?" he said, his voice lighter than usual. "You sure Kai wouldn't faint hearing that one?"
Morro laughed, his giggles ringing softly through the air. "He'd probably hide under a table," he said, his voice bright. "But it was so nice, Silbón. Like they were showing me that not all scary things are really scary."
Silbón exhaled deeply, his flickering form steadying as he shifted Morro slightly in his grip. "You've got a creative mind, kid," he admitted, his tone quiet but genuine. "A true dreamer, huh? Can't say I saw that coming."
Morro's wide grin remained, his small fingers tugging lightly at Silbón's sleeve as he murmured, "Do you think I could make it all real someday? The fluffy doggies, the sparkly horse, the elves?"
Silbón glanced down at him, his skeletal form shimmering faintly in the misty light. "Maybe," he said after a moment's pause. "If you keep dreaming, who knows what you'll come up with? Just don't lose that part of yourself, Morro. Even when you're back to your moody, grown-up self."
Morro nodded eagerly, his childlike innocence shining brightly as he nestled closer to Silbón. For a moment, even Silbón felt the faint tug of wonder, a reminder that perhaps the kid was more than the sum of his past missteps.