Chapter 12: Chapter 12 – Breakfast

Although Owlman reassured me it was unneeded, I still felt inclined to provide breakfast while we waited for Trigv to regenerate.

"You're sure he's not dead?" Solar Girl asks an hour later, hovering over the motionless body in the crater. She had exhibited a surprising amount of interest in watching his brain reattach itself bit by bit, even moving closer to get a better view of the entire process.

"Of course." I pour them each a glass of fruit milk, "A dragon his rank wouldn't die from such light wounds, I would never kill my friend."

We were both very tame during our spar, I hardly used the parasol.

"Your friend?" Starstreak states, his eyebrows behind the domino mask raised in disbelief. "You both seemed pretty determined to kill each other."

"And you started yelling after a while." Anatomic Ana points out. She takes a sip of her strawberry milk before changing it with Solar girl's dragon fruit, preferring the latter.

I make a note for future reference. "That is how we interact...do you not share similar rituals with your friends?"

"Nope." He denies, really popping out the e at the end. "Most people just say hi. Or shake hands, even hugging is more common." He rests an arm on Sea Lad's head, "And I'm friends with Erwin."

Sea Lad slaps him off, "Erwin wouldn't mind fingering your brain at the moment since you keep forgetting he's not your armrest."

Star Streak sends him a middle finger.

To prove my point I rest the milk bottle on the picnic table, reaching into my storage dimension for some paintings from my early years after the barrier.

"I have proof of our friendship."

The first is of me and Triglav enjoying a feast after defeating our first official hero party.

My territory was close to his cave at the time so I would often visit him when seeking company. We would sometimes get incredibly drunk, harass other monsters, then fall unconscious at random parts of the continent.

Fun times.

"I painted this one before the first demon king," I explain, trying to give them a vague idea of the time period. Not a lot survives the demon king's era, that's why I'm still so baffled there are even records of me at present."Dragons back then were only considered true adults after earning their first set of hero armory. We were such great friends he wanted only me present at his maturation ceremony. It was a very significant gesture." And also a bit painful on my part since I had much less strength at the time and hero candidates were often chosen for a good reason.

Although I had doubts at the time about his decision to pick such mature candidates, I'm glad I stayed.

Triglav had never gotten along with any members of his family. They always shamed him for his sensitive soul and his paranoid tendencies to plan ahead, deeming him weak and unworthy of his flame dragon heritage. While to me these were sensible qualities to possess, they made him seem weak in comparison to his more ferocious and spontaneous siblings who -by the way-died at very young ages.

The heroes around the table peer at the picture curiously.

"That's a good painting." Owl man compliments after a pause. He extends his hand and I pass it over.

Our picnic table is a lovely octagonal shape made from pixie wood and cherry oak. It's a little large for humans but I think it works great, it really gives everyone a comfortable amount of space.

"Thank you. I had lots of practice creating murals." And self-portraits. Many, many self-portraits. It's why the records of my evolution are so linear and coherent. I really love painting myself.

"Yeah, it's very realistic." Anatomic Ana agrees from his left, taking the frame from Owlman. She raises it at a higher angle to get a better look then pauses, turning to me inquisitively.

"What… are you guys eating?"

Eating?

I can't remember. "Probably some meat. Let's see," I take the painting.

….

Huh.

I transport it back to my storage dimension.

"Here's another one." Even more sentimental and special. "It's a group painting of us with our former friends. I made this one a few years before Triglav entered hibernation."

They barely react to the sudden change, attention attracted by the moving figures on the canvas; A technique I invented using aether.

"Wow," Probably bored from watching Triglav's body mend itself, Solar girl flies towards us and takes the available seat on my right. "What happened to them? Did they die?" She asks, holding her glass with both hands.

Should I stock some more human-sized utensils? They had some trouble finishing off their breakfast using Crylan-sized forks.

"Not everyone." That I know of, "Some ascended while others lost contact." I point at the vibrant blue figure of Tamara The Beholden, "She's a dwarven demigod of debt, owes me a lot of debt too. I see her every year during her holiday; the dwarves celebrate her with honey but really, she prefers money. There was just an error in translation." Then at Opal and Lume, "They're frequent visitors of Cryla during the end of the year. Don't be intimidated by their size, they're both lovely creatures. I asked them to get appropriately dressed for the painting and they chose to take this form." It was not easy capturing the essence of their ever-changing appearance into paper. I consider it one of my early masterpieces.

"The other twenty are in hibernation or died trying to evolve. It's very difficult to tell." With the merging of worlds upcoming, I expect to see some of them soon.

My hand reaches into my storage dimension for another painting before remembering the purpose of our gathering.

"I'm taking up so much of your time." I laugh, bringing out a bowl of desserts instead.

"No no," Owl waves off my apology and takes a cookie from the stack, an action mirrored by his teammates ."It was…interesting. Very informative."

"Yes." Martian Mayhem bites off the head of a rabbit. "Your friends are very unique." He compliments.

"Thank you." I beam, raising my hands to my face and feeling the warmth of my gloves on my cheeks, "Would you like to see ours?"

Anatomic Ana abruptly chokes on her milk, bending over the picnic table in a coughing fit.

"We-cough!-have one?" She wheezes out, ignoring her teammates' suggestions to stop trying to speak. I pass over a bottle of water but she waves it off.

"But we only met once." Star Streak mutters dumbfoundedly, looking to his teammates for confirmation.

They're all experiencing such a strange array of emotions, it's baffling.

"Yes," I pull out the painting, floating it up for them to get a better view. "I made it the night after we had the interview."

"It's…uhh, very nice?" Solar girl offers hesitantly, lips stretched in a tentative grin. I pull down the painting, peering down at her with curiosity,

"Do you not like it?"

"No! It's really very nice!" She insists, "I guess it's just kinda…weird… to have a painting of us so early? That's like a tenth base…thing… and we're only at, uhh, base…"More hesitation,"…four?"

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"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But you agreed to the painting," It would be unsettling to include someone in a group portrait without their consent Or prior knowledge. "Did you not read the email?"

"Yeah, Tracy," Owl man intones placidly, chewing on a deer-shaped cookie."Didn't you read the email?"

"What email?"

What email?

"The one I sent the morning after we met. I included a lot of vital information about our future partnership. Did you not read it?"

"…"

Everyone excluding Owlman and Sea Lad takes out their phones.

I…am a bit disappointed, to be honest.

"Do you all have another preferred way of communicating? Are emails not the norm?" Would they prefer actual letters? I have some carrier pigeons from the previous century.

"…Not exactly," Anatomic Ana denies, flush still obvious on the tanned skin of her face.

She looks very uncomfortable, palming her throat for relief.

"Yes," Martian Mayhem nods in agreement, "An email is a form of communication more common amongst well-adjusted adults and students; two categories with which are unable to fit."

My head tilts at his words. What did it mean to be well-adjusted? Were some adults misadjusted?

"I still don't even have a device," Sea Lad defends," But I would definitely try to respond if I get one." He winks at me.

Why?

"You mustn't tell such blatant lies." Martian Mayhem chastises from his side, "You never reply to my texts.

"He's a flake. An unrepentant, goddamned flake." Star Streak agrees.

Sea Lad ignores them both, "I would definitely respond to the email If I had a phone. But I don't, so I can't." He declares, maintaining eye contact.

Usually, people make eye contact to convey sincerity, but something about his aura tells me he wasn't just being sincere.

"Would…you like a device?" Am I reading this right?

"I mean-"He begins, scratching the back of his head over Owl Man's disappointed sigh, "If you want to give me a device I would appreciate it." Another wink.

Meaning he wouldn't appreciate a new phone? Or am I expected to wink back?

"Okay."

"But don't like, feel pressured to give me a phone, Is all I'm saying. It's fine if you don't." He reiterates, still maintaining eye contact.

"I understand."

"So if Central ever asks…"

"I offered to give you a device?" Why would Central ever ask?

Did they think I was in contact with central?

Nevertheless, I reach into my storage dimension and Sea Lad surges up to catch the item I throw at him; then looks profoundly confused at the rock in his hand.

"That's a Crylan communication device," I explain. It's a nice shade of rose quartz with black ink runes placed symmetrically on all sides.

They all gather to take a closer look, passing it around

"It's uhh, clam-shaped?" Sea strokes the runes on its surface. "Why is it clam-shaped?"

I make a gesture and he hands it over. "To match your hero motif, of course. Do you not like clams? We have other varieties of seafood." Injecting a bit of aether into the runes, they begin to glow blue.

"No, I like clams."

"Great." A hologram of the Home Screen emerges from the runes and I pass it back to him. "It only requires a yearly recharge and even works underwater."

And also keeps me aware of his status but- he probably doesn't care.

"Wow." He scrolls, pulling up another page of pre-installed apps on the device among the tens below it. We have a large variety of simple games, sites, and applications relating to every part of life.

"Is that an app for pooping?"

Every part.

"Just ignore it." I laugh, turning to gaze at the motionless form of Triglav still slowly regenerating in the crater. A feeling of doubt emerges at his healing speed. It has been almost two hours since we've fought and spending more time at this location would make us a larger target for the media.

I have a hunch I wouldn't find the headlines of this charming little incident equally as charming.

.....

I rise from my seat, "He might require a little help."

Where did I place my med kit?

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