Chapter 5: 5. the team is complete

“I’m fine with that,” he sighed before turning his back towards her. “Foll-” 

Simaev immediately swung her leg, aiming for Ogron’s neck, only for an ax to knock her out.

“Strike!” Otaz shouted proudly in front of Az before flexing his bones. 

Az felt a pang of worry as he watched Simaev’s body crumple to the ground. “Will she survive?” he asked quietly, only for Otaz to reply with a shrug. “Who cares. I mean, you got me, and that meanie. You don’t need another servant.”

Ogron casually turned his back. Simaev was laying twitching on the ground with an ax embedded in her forehead. “‘I’m taking you,” Ogron replied in amusement before grabbing Simeav by the neck and carrying her back to Az.

“Seems like she still is alive,” Otaz commented in disappointment as he grabbed his ax’s handle. 

However, the latter immediately grabbed his wrist, stating, “No… let me remove it.”

“Why should I let you? I mean, you are an endangerment to my master,” Otaz casually continued, placing his feet onto her throat bones, ready to rip the ax out of her forehead.

“Young master,” she pleaded for help, and Az stepped closer. “What is it?” he carefully asked while positioning himself behind Otaz just in case she planned anything stupid.

“I swear to serve you until I destroy that bastard,” she stated, pointing towards Ogron, who only laughed.

Confused by all of it, Az only shook his head before giving an honest answer. “Why should I accept you? Ogron cares for me….”

Knowing what would happen if Az refused her, she hectically shouted, “I mean in a fight, like beating him.”

“Az, just accept her,” Ogron commented in amusement, and Az nodded. “I accept you, Simaev,” as he offered her his hand.

Simaev, with the ax still embedded in her forehead, accepted it and was ready to join them on their journey.

…

…

As the sun began to set, the four of them settled down around a campfire. The flames flickered and danced, casting a warm glow on Az’s skin. He could smell the smoky aroma of the grilled meat and felt the heat on his face as he took a bite. Otaz’s bone creaked as he shifted behind Az, pulling him closer. Despite the chill, Az felt whenever Otaz touched him, he couldn’t help but savor the human affection the latter was trying to give.

Simeav had been quietly observing them but finally spoke up. “Az… how did you end up here!?”

“It’s mas-,” Otaz began, but Az interrupted hum. “It’s ok, Otaz. Getting called master is still embarrassing to me. Especially by people far stronger, older and wiser than me,” Az admitted, and Otaz immediately hugged him tightly. 

Az took a deep sigh. He couldn't believe he was reliving this memory again. "To keep it short, I'm the youngest of five siblings. One day, my small village somehow angered a nearby dragon, and in his fury, the dragon took it upon himself to eradicate the entire village."

Az paused, his hands shaking as he remembered the fear and desperation of that moment. The bone-chilling screams of the innocent and the smell of charred corpses filled his nose. The memories… they were hunting him… In trance, the skewer fell out of his hand, but thankfully Otaz grabbed it.

“Calm down kid. You don’t have to tell the story,” Otaz whispered quietly while hugging him tightly. His eyes were glaring furiously at Simaev, who was feeling pity for him.

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But Az continued with a trembling voice. "And when the dragon descendent upon the village, my siblings and I were thankfully not present... We were watching from the distance. But not being there did not mean getting sparred. And when the dragon finally caught up with us, my oldest brother sacrificed himself by casting a teleportation spell..."

Tears welled in Az's eyes as he spoke, and he could feel the weight of the memory pressing down on him. It was as if he was seeing the events unfold before his very eyes, reliving the horror and grief all over again.

"I... I don't know what happened to them. I've been way too preoccupied to think about it," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Otaz wrapped his arms around Az, pulling him close and offering comfort as Az let the tears fall. It was a painful memory, one that Az wished he could forget, but he knew it would always be with him. All he could do was try to move forward and hope that his siblings were okay wherever they were.

“Come let mommy hug you,” Simaev stated, awkwardly patting the ground beside her. Otaz simply sighed and tossed Az toward Simaev as if he was still a child.

"Eyyy," Az complained good-naturedly as he landed on the ground next to Simaev. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“Eyyy,” Az complained as Simaev caught him and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry, Az. I didn't mean to make you upset," she said softly as she ruffled through his coal-black curly hair.

"It's okay. I just wish I knew what happened to my siblings. It's been weighing on me for a long time," Az replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Ogron chuckled in the background. "I'm sure they're fine, Az. You don't have to worry so much."

Az sniffed and wiped away his tears. "I hope you're right, Ogron. I just can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened to them."

Otaz rolled his eyes at Ogron's insensitive comment and pulled Az back onto his lap. "Don't worry, Az. You have us now. We'll protect you and make sure nothing bad happens to you."

Az leaned against Otaz, feeling comforted by his words. The four of them sat in silence for a moment, watching the flames dance and listening to the sounds of the night. It was a moment of peace. Thankfully it didn’t take long until as slept peacefully.

 

After Az fell asleep, Ogron finally stated, “let’s discuss how to raise that brat. I think we all agree that this kid needs to be able to protect himself, right?”

Simaev and Otaz both nodded, and Ogron continued, “then let’s discuss which weapon should we pick for that lad?”

“Why are you even asking such a question?” Otaz remarked. “I mean, isn’t it obvious that the kid is destined for the scythe? That’s the weapon of the grim reaper himself, and our boy is definitely his illegitimate child.”

Simaev broke into laughter. “Why should we give him a farming tool? He is more of a softy and not destined to be a farmer. Also, he shouldn’t even dirty his hands. Magic and the bow is definitely his weapon of choice.”

“That’s the weapon of a coward,” Otaz protested, and Ogron sighed, “He can learn melee combat and ranged combat. Besides, he shouldn’t be overly reliant on his magic capabilities, so let’s focus on combat. I’m for the spear since it’s easy to use, and it’s the weapon of the strong, heheheh.”

“Bullshit,” Otaz shouted, and the group argued the entire night about what the right path was. In the end, they came to the conclusion. “Let the kid decide himself which melee weapon he would take. Also, no magic training until the kid knows some basic melee combat.”