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The sun shone brightly in the crisp autumn air up above the grassy knolls of Rhyboflaven. Light rain did nothing to soil the young warriors’ moods. Their daily games and exploring were more important than worrying about wet hair or slippery mud. It was shaping up to be a perfectly normal day of pretend-adventuring. It was perfect and just as it should have been, right up until he showed up.
Oddly calculated, he plodded around in the mud behind the playground, collecting sticks and immediately throwing them away. Young Prohyas froze in curiosity and fear seeing the bully pace around. Much time to ogle he did not get, however, because as soon as she saw him staring, little Vambre had pulled him aside behind a tree.
They both knew they were in danger, but Vambre thought ahead.
“Just pretend he’s not there,” she said, hunched over. In her tiny fist she held a little toy shovel. Her fingers gripped the hilt tightly and she squinted. “He’ll go away at some point.”
“You’re gonna protect me, right?”
“Always, brother.” She gave a purposeful smile - as young as she was, that sense of justice burned strong in her heart. “No bully is getting the better of you - not on my watch.”
Prohyas lit up, a smile on his nervous little face. His sister’s hand was placed on his shoulder and they knew they always had each other, no matter what.
They staked out behind the grand oak, hoping for the perpetrator to leave before he could do anything to sour their mood.
Wait, where'd he go?
“Hey, if it isn’t dork and dorkier!”
Alas. He had found them. Their little rendezvous was a little too loud and had alerted the chubby little punk - he was staring them down, gripping a microphone in his hand. Upon his face he had a cheeky smirk - as he was wont to do when provided with the chance to pick on somebody.
Vambre plodded forward, stepping before her younger brother and spreading her arms to cover for him. Her eyes darted around. The tiny shovel was held in front of her a moment later, akin to a mighty sword. In her mind, it might as well have been.
Seeing that greasy black hair and that doopy little hat on his head filled her with anger. She still remembered the time he had pushed over Prohyas - the poor guy fell right into his sand castle, wrecking it.
With Helmut, one could expect mostly insults and petty comments, and it would stay at that. Flonk here was… a little more reckless. A little more hands-on. To a fault, especially when it concerned Prohyas.
Prohyas, who was now holding his little hands up to his chest, looking somewhat akin to a tiny, distraught dinosaur. He had a trembling lip and looked pathetic.
“Go away, Flonk. We do not want you here,” said Vambre, enunciating her words with painful accuracy. Quite literate for a six-year-old. “If you want to push Prohyas again, you will have to go through me, first.”
A guffaw was all that came as a reply. Flonk grinned, shrugging. He stepped closer, provoking Vambre further with a little shove. She kept her footing with a little wobbling, regardless - he still got up in her face. “Oooh, I’m so scared. Don’t worry, I’m not after him. Not yet, anyway.”
Her angry scowl did not let up, but she pondered that saying. Not yet? What was that supposed to mean? He suddenly jerked around, doing a silly little dance in place and making a whistle noise - summoning a small, furry creature from a tree.
Vambre felt her heart sink. Her palms grew sweaty, and she only gripped her shovel tighter. Big mauve eyes stared at the creature that got called upon.
Squirrel.
Why did it have to be squirrels.
“Vam-butts, Pro-cry-as, have a look at my pet.”
As the squirrel quite literally squirreled up Flonk’s leg to nuzzle up to his face, Vambre emitted a high-pitched scream. Frozen in place, she saw him hold out his hand to present the animal, putting an arm around her shoulder to get even more of a raise out of her.
“I heard you’re scared of squirrels… what kinda warrior is afraid of squirrels? They’re so cute, and fuzzy...”
Cold sweat formed on her forehead. Every fiber of her body kicked in the fight-or-flight response - but the flight won over. With a mighty leap and more screaming, she escaped the grasp of her bully and made a run for it. All in her mind was utter terror.
Only when she was yards away, surrounded by pine trees, she realized.
Prohyas. She had left Prohyas all alone, right with that… that bully.
But there was that squirrel. That twitchy nose and those bulgy eyes haunted her even now as she gasped for air, wiping her sweaty hands on her dress. Feeling defeated and sullen, she threw her shovel on the ground in a huff, started pacing for a moment… but quickly picked the tool up again.
Prohyas needed her.
Tears pooled in the five-year-old’s eyes. Prohyas did not do well with bullies, being as emotional as he was, and especially this specimen was a force to be reckoned with. They were only a few years apart, but the sheer size of him made him tremble. By now, the squirrel had bolted and clambered up a nearby tree. He just found rodents adorable - thus, he needed a little more hands-on convincing to be terrified.
Prohyas knew he was a warrior. He ate monsters for breakfast, or so he convinced himself. But despite all of that, he felt he needed his sister really badly right now.
Running off was the first thought that came to mind - but he had no chance to do it. When he took his first step, a big, firm hand grasped his arm and his heart sank.
“Where do you think you’re going, dork?”
All he could do was yelp. Why was this guy like this? All he wanted to do was play with his sister in the fields. He would never hurt a fly. He did not deserve this. Did he? All that was going on in his mind now was fear.
“What you gonna do? Cry for yer mommy?” Flonk chuckled as he so often did, staring the younger warrior in his sad, pathetic little eyes. It was an unfair fight, bar none. “You ain’t going nowhere until I-”
He did not have a chance to finish his threat, for the next thing he felt was a tiny ball of navy-haired fury jumping onto his head and pummeling him with a tiny toy shovel. Though it barely made a dent in his bulky frame, it distracted him. In a fit of rage, he swiped at the perpetrator with both hands - making Prohyas trip backwards and fall to the ground. The younger Warrior sibling stared at the scuffle taking place in front of him, aghast at the situation.
Vambre stared him stark in the eyes before raising her voice, as she held on for dear life while never ceasing her shovel-whacking. “Run! Prohyas, run for it!”
It was the first thing that came to mind for him - and he took her up on the offer. Scrambling to his feet, he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, disappearing into the woods without looking back.
“Get off! Get! Off!” Flonk sounded frightened, for once - he was not at all used to being on the receiving end of violence. His initial confusion had made place for panic. Though the little shovel did not leave any dents, it was still enough to help the younger warrior escape a muddy fate. Who would have thought that Vambre was this relentless?
“I am a Warrior!” Vambre bellowed fiercely in her tiny voice. “And you won’t! Hurt! My! Brother!”
Her comments were punctuated by tiny bonks of her toy shovel, as Flonk spun around in a fit of rage… before falling over, sending Vambre flying over the grass.
As he laid there, scrambling futilely to get to his feet, he slipped. His chubby face landed right in the dirt, his best clothes ruined. His lip trembled, he quietly sobbed and dropped his body on the ground, face against the mud.
Vambre regained her bearings, gasping heavily. She picked up her tiny shovel and paused to look at the sobbing mess in front of her. So pathetic he looked, laying on the dirty ground. Wasn’t he older than them? He definitely looked the part, but did not act it.
“I just.. I just wanted to play with you guys,” Flonk spluttered between sobs. His face was scrunched up in a pathetic manner as he wept, dirt staining his chubby cheeks. “You’re always so mean to me!"
The sheer audacity. Vambre knit her eyebrows together, staring at him. She stepped forward, pointed her shovel at his face as it almost touched his nose. “You started it! You’re a… you’re a real piece of work! And you do not hurt my brother!”
She panted, leaning one hand on her knee. Putting on a big voice was a strain on her tiny vocal chords and she swallowed, trying to spot Prohyas. Where he went was no mystery - they had their own special spots in the woods where they played. He was bound to be in one of them. But most importantly, he was safe.
A crow called in the distance before flying off, interrupting Flonk’s pathetic little sobs.
Suddenly, Vambre felt very alone. The rain on her hair made a few loose strands cling to her forehead and she shivered. A feeling in her stomach made her want to cry, but she bravely swallowed away her tears.
Despite her rescue being successful, she was, in the end, still a child. A very young child, at that. Being apart from her brother felt scary, and lonely. She wanted nothing more than to collect him and go back home to their mum and dad.
At least their bully was out of commission. He scrambled to his feet, slipping a little before he found his footing. A pitiable look towards Vambre was all he could muster. Still sobbing, he stumbled off to wherever it was he lived without a single further word.
As soon as he left, an angry squawking noise came from the tree nearby. A squirrel was yelling at her, in an usual squirrely voice.
Though initially started, she glared at it for a moment, sticking out her tongue before running to look for Prohyas.
He needed his big sister.
- ten years later! -
Ever so quietly, Flonk made his way through the hallways of the Adventure Academy.
He did not want to be there. His brother told him it was the only chance for higher education, because other schools were too expensive for them - they simply had nowhere else to go. And that open house day was definitely today. Was it? He was beginning to doubt it by now.
Warriors are dorks. But it was better than nothing. And with a country that had Trollblins, dragons, and giant fangs that floated in the river - having some degree of adventuring skill under one's belt was a boon.
Not that it mattered. Being around all these other students who just took to the profession without even trying put a dent in his ego and he hated it. Everybody here was an adventurer… except for him. He felt out of place and a little lost. Where were the teachers?
As he clutched a map to his chest, he hid his face behind his long hair, hoping nobody would notice him. He knew the make-up was too much. What self-respecting guy wore eyeliner? Though shy about the make-up, he felt it distracted from the big, ungainly braces in his mouth. Ever since he got them, he got shy about his usual passion - comedy. They would only laugh at his teeth and not his carefully curated jokes. Children were relentless. And when he called other people names, then suddenly he was the bad guy.
Not that it mattered. He had become much too shy to even attempt getting under people’s skin - unlike how he used to be.
Someday, the braces could come off and he could pursue his passion again. They'd see. They would all see.
But today was not that day. Today, he was out in a school he didn’t know, surrounded by potential enemies.
Deep in thought, Flonk bumped against somebody, and he winced, shrinking in on himself. It did not matter much, for he already towered over everybody since his growth spurt happened.
The pasty face of Morbidia stared back at him. A judgemental frown quickly made place for a nasty smirk. She was an entire head shorter than he was - but it mattered not, for her ego was bigger than the two of them combined.
“Well! Look what showed up!” Her nasally, ear-splitting voice hit him like a knife in his ears. “A big ol' poser, here to think he can be an adventurer!”
She prodded his chest, making him stumble backwards. Her heavily made-up eyes pierced into his own, rending through his soul and crushing what little spirit he had left.
“You’re just a big dork, ain’t you?”
Dork.
It stung him. Why was this tiny witch lady so antagonistic in the first place? Some people just want to watch the world burn, and some witches just want to make other people feel small. It definitely contrasted with Flonk’s physical size - and Morbidia somehow managed to gain the upper hand on him. He noticed Gateaux right behind her, as usual.
They were at least three years younger than him. Why did it get to him so much?
He swallowed, feeling his big, ungainly hands tremble.
“Lookin’ real doopy with those purple streaks! What, you ready to join a band?”
He finally managed to gather enough courage to speak up, holding his hands to his face.
“Shut up!” he said. “G-get away from me!”
Darn, blasted awkward teenager voice. Just on the verge of breaking - going from squeaky kid to a deep, booming voice, but got lost somewhere along the way. Just his luck. It almost squeaked out of him, making a jarring contrast to his sheer size.
“Me,” repeated Gateaux with a chuckle... just before Morbidia shoved him.
“You only repeat ME, we talked about this!” she said. “Now get back behind me!”
When she turned around again, she could not find Flonk anywhere, and groaned. So much for being the top prep of the school… she was not done with him. She had so many more insults left! And then he just… ran off. The nerve. Maybe she could bother those dorky Warrior siblings instead.
Quietly, Gateaux piped up. “Uh, Morbidia, we have adventuring class in a minute-”
“Gateaux! What did I tell you about free thinking?”
With a death glare, she gave the cat another shove.
“S-sorry! I mean, thinking!”
With those words, they joined the queue for Adventuring 101.
~~
“Well…. That could’ve gone worse!” said Prohyas as he stretched, rubbing at his cheek. His incoming facial hair was itchy and bothering him all day. Though proud of his flimsy teenage mustache, it was definitely a feeling he had to get used to. “Kicked yer booticus.”
“Brother, you got the wind knocked out of you by my dearest Tomato Magisword. Don’t pretend you did not.” Vambre gently nudged him, giving him a smirk and a ruffle of his hair. She did not care if he was bragging - he was still the same doopy brother to her as he had always been.
“You’re sayin’ tomato wrong,” he mumbled, fidgeting around with his pathetic little fringe. One time, it was beautiful, long and silky, bouncing along with every step. Now all that remained was a pathetic little puff of bangs above his eyes. “I miss my hair. Gotta train it someday…”
Vambre chuckled. “Maybe stop biting it, and dad wouldn’t have lobbed it clean off.”
“It’s how I get by, Vambs! Now I gotta bite m’ nails...”
“Sure you do, brother dearest.” She gently nudged him. “Perhaps stop biting things.”
They laughed and bantered a little, getting ready to go to their dorms and relax after a long day. Though they were kept by some friends and fellow classmates to exchange stories about the lesson of the day, and it took a bit until the hallways were empty.
Seemingly empty.
Prohyas noticed an inconspicuous shape leaning against the lockers. It seemed like a fellow student… but bunched in on themself. Upon closer inspection, he noticed this wasn't someone who went to this school. The lack of uniform told him as much.
No face was able to be made out - just a mop of long, greasy black hair, accentuated with purple streaks. He had not seen this person before.
Being ever inquisitive, and needing to put away some things anyway, the warrior's first instinct was to go over to whomever it was.
He slowly approached the figure, reaching out a careful hand.
“Hey, buddy, you okay?”
“Go away.”
The response was with a heavy, tired voice, as if whoever this was had been crying. And crying a lot. Though Prohyas was young, he already had a sense of justice in his heart and knew he had to do something. This person was sad and he was going to help him feel better.
Vambre was already gone. Probably in a hurry to read her newest book.
“Uh… what’s wrong, buddy?” His voice was soft and inquisitive. “Are you crying?”
No response. The guy reached out for his long, greasy hair and wiped some of it behind his ear, looking aside at Prohyas with big, sad eyes.
Then it hit him. Those eyes. Those tired-looking eyes peeking out from under that hair. Despite the heavy make-up, there was no mistaking it.
Flonk. That nasty little bully who made his life a living heck when they were just well-meaning children with nary a care in the world. Prohyas gulped, taking a tentative step back. He was not going to get pushed over again, if he could help it.
“What you lookin’ at, dork? You friends with that pasty witch lady? J-just leave me alone.”
Dork. Truthfully, that comment stung. It was definitely his insult of choice, and usually came before some sort of bodily harm. They weren’t too bad, considering - he could live with some minor bruises and mud on his face. But as a little helpless kid it felt like the worst punishment anyone could receive. Vambre was usually right there to protect him against this bully - but right now, it was just him on his own.
And Flonk was not a little kid anymore.
Prohyas wasn’t stupid. But he was emotional.
He was quick to blame himself for all the bullying he had endured. He probably deserved it. Somehow. Just like how he deserved to get his quiff cut off from sucking on it too much.
Maybe he was a dork.
And yet… right now, Flonk looked pathetic. He was not in any sort of state to bully anyone - hopefully. The young warrior could only see himself. Now the tables had turned.
For a moment, Prohyas forgot about their history and sighed, leaning his back against the lockers as he slid down to sit on the floor.
He sighed, staring into the distance. One knee was pulled up to his chest and he idly scratched at his stubbly chin, casting a cautious glance at his adversary.
“Y’know… Morbidia bullies me too.”
Silence.
It felt strange to be roaming about the hallways when school was over. It still smelled like school… but it didn’t feel like school.
“You’ll be okay,” said Prohyas finally with a small smile, looking Flonk’s way and twiddling his thumbs. “You’re gonna bounce back. I bounced back. You can too.”
Teary eyes met his own again. Somehow, Flonk smiled at him. An ungainly, metal-filled smile. It looked odd - but it was genuine.
“Nobody’s ever said that to me before,” he said. His voice was breaking with every word. Not just puberty - but also tears. But now they were tears of relief.
Stupid Warrior. Always solving everything with friendship. Useless little goody-goody. But he hated Morbidia even more right now. Prohyas was a dork… but he was at least not hurling insults his way. His heart felt soft and warm and he finally did not feel alone anymore.
Flonk buried his face in his big arms. His hair hid his expression - a smile, despite his tears.
“You’re pretty okay, for a warrior.” he said, sounding a little more confident. "Still a dork, though."
Prohyas chuckled lightly. “I know.”
And with a little rush of fluttery feelings in his stomach, Prohyas thought that maybe they would become friends someday.