Mikey's Backstory - 1

This is the story that is beating me to death. I originally set out just to write the story of how Tole and Mikey met and how Mikey came to work for Tole.  It has slowly blown up into something so much more. It makes my head hurt.  I just want to write a 3,000 word or so short for you guys to read and go on to the next idea, but I guess my muse has other ideas. The bitch has already made me re-write the Pirates story to double it's original size and the Working on Terra short is about 30% bigger than it originally was.  

Was that a whip crack? Damn I guess I need to get back to work, but here's the intro to the beginning of the start of Mikey's backstory...crap.

-Tole

It was quiet in my room for the first time all night, and I was just about to drift off to sleep. You know that feeling when the world is kind of detached, and you know that blissful unconsciousness is only moments away? Yeah, that’s where I was, and it was awesome. Well it would have been if Serilla hadn’t laid her hand on my chest and whispered in my ear.

“Killer, there is something not right about that cabinet in the corner.”

When a creature with centuries of experience and magic as strong as Serilla has makes a statement like that, you should listen. I do, and it brought me straight up into full consciousness again with all thoughts of sleep flying away. I sat straight up in the bed, started gathering pointy things, and asked her, “What cabinet? What’s not right?”

“Peace, Lover. Nothing is trying to kill us…yet, but that armoire in the corner where you keep your clothes is enchanted with magic I do not understand. It irks me. I tried to open it the other day and that damned wooden snake bit me. I was able to expel the poison before it did any serious damage, but I was never able to open the doors. I do not like there being something in this room that I cannot protect you from.”

I sat back down on the side of the bed and relaxed. I should have realized that she would eventually notice the enchantment on my wardrobe/weapon locker/safe room. I started putting all of my emergency weaponry back into the locations where they are stored around my bed. No point in being pointy right now.

When I was done I lay back down beside her, kissed her forehead and said, “You have nothing to fear from that armoire. The snake is simply the security system. It protects what’s inside. I should have expected you to notice the enchantment, but every time you come to my room I always seem to get…distracted. It was a gift from a client…well part of his payment actually…kind of like a tip. Frankly, I think he was trying to get rid of it.”

“Why do you need something so well protected to house your clothing?” she asked cocking an eyebrow at me.

“Oh it does a lot more than that Lover. Let me show you.”

I walked over and started to disarm the security and open it to my weapons room. I think she’ll find Mikey interesting. Just about the time I reached for the door I remembered I was naked, and so was she. Mikey would never stop talking about it if I walked in there nude. He’s fascinated with non-mechanical beings and loves to point out all the ways in which we can be killed. Last thing I need is being subjected to examination by my weapons master…again.

“Maybe we should put our clothes on first,” I said pulling on my trousers and tunic.

As I got dressed, a devious thought entered my mind. I wonder just how sensitive she is to the magic around the armoire. I mean, I know her magic is potent, and her race are intrinsically magical in nature. What I don’t know is just how far her skills go. This thing was created by a being beyond even her abilities. It would be interesting to see how much she can discern. I know, it’s a dick move, but I never claimed to be a nice guy.

Once we were dressed, I walked over to my armoire and motioned for Serilla to join me. Every time I open it I have to stop and look at the carvings on the doors. One door shows Perseus’ battle with the Kraken and the other depicts Hercules’ battle with the lion. The center of the two doors has a snake carved into it that begins on the leftmost door, winds through the handles, and ends on the right hand door. The snake not only locks the handles together, but it is also the security system that prevents forced entry. Touch the snake and it will hiss as a warning to the would-be intruder. Pull hard on a handle or try to break the snake, and it will pull its head free of the door and strike. The venom it carries is deadly and fast. Once its job is done the head will reattach to the door, locking them tight once again.

Since she was bitten, my guess is Serilla tried to force the door. I reached out my hand and touched the head of the snake that is wrapped around the handles on the doors. When it hisses, I speak the Greek word for clothes, “Roúcha.” As soon as the word finishes leaving my lips, the snake crawls out of the handles and across to the carving of Perseus and settles onto a log on the beach in the foreground of the image.

I opened the door and showed Serilla the inside. A clothes bar spans the left half of the space inside and is filled with clothes on hangers. The right side is all shelves, some with folded garments in them and others with jewelry or weaponry or both. She carefully inspected everything in the armoire. Some things she touched. Some things she just kind of hovered her hand over. I had the distinct feeling that no matter how it looked, it was all a magical examination.

“There is more to this than a simple armoire,” she said once she was finished poking around in it

.

“Yeah there is. There’s a portal in the back that opens to a place on Terra where I keep the few things from my old life…a car, some Terran weapons, and some mementos from my youth.”

“Oh, I saw that. That’s not what I meant, and I think you know it. There is a deep magic here. Older than even my kind I think and on a level few of my kind have ever achieved. This is a thing of great power, Killer. You need to treat it with care and respect. Much as you SHOULD be treating me instead of dancing around the subject and testing me.”

I kissed her on the cheek and held my hands up in surrender. “Guilty. The client who gave it to me told me to protect it well and it’d never fail me. I just wanted to see how obvious his touch was in the craftsmanship. Let me show you the rest. I feel like I should warn you though. Mikey is a little…quirky.”

“Mikey?” she asked me with a slightly raised eyebrow. She’s just so damned cute when she does that.

“Yeah…Mikey,” I said shaking my head as I closed the door again.

While still holding the handle, I speak the Greek word for peace, “Eiríni.” I always found it ironic that my weapons are concealed behind that word. I guess it makes sense when you know the one who made it. For him, a place that crafts weapons and armor would be a place to find peace. As the last sound of the word ends the snake crawls off of the log and across to the other door. There it coils itself on a rock in the carving of Hercules. I take a deep breath and open the door onto my weapons cache and the workshop where Mikey does his thing.

“Hey Mikey! You still active?” I know he is, but I like to give him shit about forgetting to wind himself up. Truth be told, I have absolutely no idea what keeps his metal ass moving.

There’s a rattle from somewhere in the back of the workshop followed by the crash of something metal falling over. That’s all followed by Mikey yelling, “Hey Boss! I’m back here gathering some pieces for that silver lined dagger you were asking about for that job with the lycanthropes. I’ll be right there. Now where did I put that… ” His voice just kind of trailed off as he mumbled to himself. He does that a lot.

A few minutes later he came walking up from the back of the shop with what I assume was a dagger blade blank and a brick of silver. He was looking at the blank in his hand not really paying much attention to what was going on. I expected him to be a little shocked when he saw Serilla because no one but me had been in here since the armoire was given to me. When he looked up, he just stopped dead in his tracks. He dropped what he was carrying, grabbed a sword that started humming when he picked it up, and took an en garde pose.

“Boss! That’s a dragon! Why is there a dragon here? Do you know she’s a dragon? They’re dangerous you know? You really need to be more careful about who you hang around with!”

“Mikey calm down. This is Serilla, and she’s my…friend. Put the damned sword down would ya? It’s fine for fuck’s sake.” The pause and calling her my friend got me a pinch on the ass from Serilla, but I didn’t let it show. Well, I tried to not let it show, but she pinched me hard dammit.

“If you’re sure Boss,” he said as he slowly put the sword back on the table, and it stopped humming when he released the grip. “But I still think you should be more careful who you hang with…OH MY GODS! You’re in love with her. I can see it in your aura. It’s a gift the Master’s wife blessed me with to be able to see people’s emotions. Holy shit piles…you’re in love with a dragon. Humans…hang on a second, oh that’s just perfect! She’s just as smitten with you. That’s something you don’t see every millennia. Although there was that one time when the Master’s uncle and a kraken…”

“Mikey…Mikey…Mikey!” I finally had to yell to get his attention. “Meet Serilla. Serilla, this is Mikey. He’s my weapons master, and the one who made those scales you gave me into my armored shirt.”

“Hmm?” he said coming out of his mumbling and musings about the past. “Oh…hello.”

Serilla looked Mikey over and nodded in greeting, and Mikey returned the nod although the way he’s built it almost qualified as a bow.

I turned back to Mikey and explained, “I brought her here to meet you because she is important to me and so are you. I want you two to play nice. Get it? Now, how long before that dagger I wanted is ready?”

“It’s ok Boss,” Mikey said. “You each hold a piece of the other’s soul now. She’s welcome here anytime. As for the dagger, it’ll be ready in a couple of days. I need to check into placing an enchantment on it in case they have magically reinforced skin. I’ve seen the Master do something similar before.”

When he said that I felt Serilla tense. Something was bothering her. She gave my sleeve a tug and threw a look at me that said she’d like to go back to my room, so I gave Mikey the go ahead on the dagger and let him know I’d be back to check on his progress later.

As we walked back out of the armoire and into my room, Serilla stomped over to my side table and got a glass of water. I closed the armoire and touched the snake’s head whispering , “ Prostatévo,” to reactivate the security system.

“What was that all about?” I ask her. “I thought you wanted to know all about this thing.”

“Did you not recognize the symbol imprinted on Mikey’s chest? Does it not stand out in your mind?”

She is very clearly upset, so much so she’s trembling. I walk over to her and put my arms around her waist.

“Of course I know that symbol. The hammer and tongs crossed on an anvil is the mark of the guy who made Mikey, quite a few of the weapons in there, and even the armoire itself. They’re all his handiwork, though carpentry and woodworking weren’t his primary craft…”

She rounded on me with her eyes almost literally aflame and smoke curling up from her nostrils when she said, “They are also stamped into the armor and weapons that you took from the dragon hunter I hired you to kill when we first met! My search to find the one that mark is associated with has always left me frustrated. It was as if the one who made the armor and weapons was purposefully thwarting my efforts to track them down! Now I see you have things created by the same being!”

Oh shit.

In the history of forever no male of any species has ever gotten the female of any species to calm down by saying “calm down.” Why is it then that those words just jump out of our face like we honestly believe that this time it’ll work? What was that definition of insanity again? Maybe it’s panic induced hysteria or a complete loss of control to the hind brain due to imminent death and destruction. Who knows? All I can say is it happened so fast I never saw it coming.

“Serilla, calm down. Let’s me think this through. There has to be a rational explanation.” At least that’s what I meant to say. All I got out was, “Serilla, calm d…” and then the world turned upside down and the lights went out.

When I came too, I was in the floor and my head was in her lap. She was stroking my hair and apologizing. I could feel the tender spot where she’d used magic to stitch something closed on my forehead. I sometimes forget that while she looks like a human woman, she is still a dragon with everything that brings with it. She has dragon magic, dragon strength, and oh boy does she have a dragon’s temper. I have to say I do prefer it when all of those things are pointed at some other unlucky bastard.

When I opened my eyes she exhaled and said, “Thank the Great Mother. I was afraid I had killed you. I was so blind with anger that I lashed out, but I was not angry with you Killer. All I could think about was the corpses of my kin and the fact that whomever that stamp represents is responsible for many deaths. I was angry and confused, and I lost control. I swear it will never…”

“Don’t make that promise,” I said interrupting her apology. “Your temper is a part of you. You could no more honor that promise than I could promise to stop killing. It’s part of who we are. I forgive you though, and I should have known better than to try and placate your anger. This is not the first time I’ve been the victim of a female’s wrath, and it won’t be the last.”

She laughed at that and kissed my forehead.

“Killer, you are a wonder. It is no mystery why I love you so.”

“I am very lovable…in my own way. I’ll tell you this much though. If I find out that the guy who gave me that armoire was responsible for creating that dragon hunter, or if it’s all some part of a long con, I’ll gut the fucker and dance in his shit. I don’t care how powerful he is.”

She helped me up, kissed me gently, and said, “I believe you would and consequences be damned. Maybe you should tell me about this client and how you came to have that cabinet and the being who lives inside, but you should do it downstairs while we eat. I’m sure you had burned most of your reserves with our activities earlier, and the healing I did on you will have taken even more.”

She was right. I was a little wobbly on my feet. Food would definitely be a good idea, and the rumbling in my stomach told me my guts agreed. We headed downstairs to eat and talk. I leaned on her most of the way. Magical healing or not, she hits like a freight train, and I’m pretty sure there were definitely the remnants of a concussion lingering in my skull. The stairs down to the main room damned near did me in. The sonsabitches kept moving on me.

We finally got to the table by the fire where Serilla and I met. We always sit here. Bobby locked in his official title as “My Hero” because he was already there with food in his hands. What can I say? This isn’t the first time I’ve stumbled out of my room and down the stairs. He’s actually the closest thing I have to a best friend. I thanked him for the grub and set to eating with a passion.

While I was shoveling, Serilla lit one of her cigarillos and sat back in her chair patiently waiting for me to slow down. She had taken to blowing smoke rings, and I was well into my third bowl of stew before I paused long enough to speak.

“Well Killer, do you plan to tell me this tale or shall I rattle your head again and see if it will fall out of its own accord?”

I looked up at her from my food to find her smiling at me. Good thing too, because I’m not totally sure she couldn’t do it. It is definitely a sign of her affection for me that she didn’t use her magic and compel me or just drag the memory out of my mind by force. She very well could have, so I figured I should get on with it. I signaled Bobby for another refill on the dark beer I was drinking and sat back in my chair still chewing the last bite of bread and butter.

“So do you want the short version or the long version?” I asked her.

“Usually I enjoy it when you take your time and linger on the details,” she said while smiling at me and cocking an eyebrow. “However, why don’t you tell me who this person is, and then I’ll decide if the story is worth hearing.”

“Fair enough. The short version is that the symbol you saw belongs to a being named Hephaestus, who in the lore of my world was a god to a people called the Greek over three thousand years ago. In reality he was just part of another group of interdimensional travelers who decided they could rule over the simple folk of that time. They set up shop and threw around a bunch of magic, and the Greek people fell for the con completely.”

“Don’t get me wrong; they are some damned powerful beings. Probably as close to actual gods as my planet ever had. The more I learn about the multiverse the more convinced I am that almost every divine being in my planet’s history was just another schmuck with big mojo subjugating people less advanced than they were…the pricks.”

I took a breath and looked at Serilla for some indication as to whether that was enough information or if she wanted more. Her brow was furrowed, and I could tell she was deep in thought. After a second, without even looking up, she motioned for me to continue, so I did.

“Hephaestus was the god of the forge and of craftsman and artisans. He made all of the weapons and armor for his fellow gods as well as jewelry and even the thrones they sat on. It’s totally within his power to craft the things we took from that dragon hunter back on your home world.”

At this point she held up a hand and stopped me.

“Three thousand Terran years ago?” she asked incredulously. “Are these beings immortal? My kind can live for a millennia or more but three? How powerful are these creatures?”

“They’re ridiculously powerful, but no…they‘re not immortal. They are long lived and also really good at exploiting the time differences between dimensions, but they can and do die. Most of the time it’s at each other’s hands too. They fight amongst themselves like nothing you can imagine. Probably from all of the inbreeding.”

Serilla took a long drag on her cigarillo. She sat there in silence, but I could see the thoughts racing through her mind. Finally she looked back up at me and said, “Maybe you should tell me the whole story Killer. If we are going to hunt this Hephaestus, I should know as much about him as possible.”

“I’ll tell you the story, but WE aren’t hunting shit. If he could equip a plain vanilla human well enough to kill your kind in safety, just imagine what he keeps back for his own use. No, if any killing has to be done, I’ll do it alone. He won’t expect it, and surprise is the only way I win this one.”

I meant for my tone to say that there was no room for discussion on the subject, but she just smiled and said, “You’re stalling again. Tell me the tale Killer, and we shall see who hunts what.”

Dammit! Women are a pain in the ass no matter what species they are.

“Fine,” I agreed, “but I won’t let you die for me.”

“Nor will I let you die needlessly for me. Now…the story?”

Telling Serilla a story isn’t the same as sitting down and telling someone else, like say Bobby for instance. I don’t get to sit and spin an elaborate yarn full of colorful language and intricate plot twists. That would be far too tedious for a creature like Serilla. If we hadn’t shared Communion, she would just have to be patient while I did exactly that though. However, since we have blended our minds and spirits, she can experience memories right along with me…if I let her in. I’m still skittish about opening my mind to someone, but after our time together I’ve learned to trust her. She’s just as open to me, and that helps.

I told her I was ready and let down the mental defenses I have built, both psychological and magical. She entered my mind, and I called up the memories of working for a god.