A Gamer's Guide 443 (Patreon)

There it was. The dangling church. In Buccina’s mind, when Kitty had spoken of it, he had always imagined a rather small ordeal, no bigger than an ordinary chapel. 

Such images, of course, failed to properly take into account that it had to be large enough for several dragons to peek their heads into. Even from afar, the church seemed to take up the entirety of the open cavern’s rooftop, melded to it without any visible seams, dome-shaped and open for visitors. 

Once they were right beneath it, the both of them craning their necks up at the humongous structure, Goss broke the stunned silence, saying, “Pretty scaly, huh? It’s over eight hundred years old!”

“Only eight hundred?” Buccina said. The church at home was… had been almost two thousand years old. He supposed, in places filled with tumultuous dragons, things couldn’t afford to stick around for quite as long. “So, um… How do we get up?”

“The ladder,” Goss said, pointing at a rope ladder dangling from the ceiling. “How else?”

“Oh, okay.” Buccina decided not to say anything else out of fear of admitting that he hadn’t spotted the ladder at all. In his head, if he were ever to visit that church, he’d be doing so together with Garath, who’d be able to fly them up, no problem. Climbing was a bit less dignified. Nevertheless, Buccina was not one to fear physical exertion. It had definitely not been two months since he learned to walk again. One month since he could walk, fully unassisted, without limping too noticeably. Climbing a few hundred meters straight up would be fine. 

As Goss went ahead, the rope ladder swaying with every step he took, Buccina gave a small prayer to his god of choice. Dear god of hope, please don’t let me die from rope ladder. It would be beneath me. Thank you. Aye. 

Then, he set out. 

One foot in front of the other, left, right, left, right, heaving himself by the arms, pushing up with his legs, one by one, sweaty hands gripping coarse rope and prickly wood. Knees shaking, lungs trembling, sweat dripping from his chin, Buccina crawled up the rope ladder, every jerking jeering motion it did bringing swaying nausea to the pit of his stomach. 

“Don’t look down, hope-pope! It’s quite a drop!”

He wouldn’t have, if that bastard hadn’t said anything. Now he’d peeked at the darkness between his shivering legs and found a hundred-metre drop awaiting him should he decide to give up. Squeezing his eyes shut, Buccina clambered on, higher, higher, higher, until, finally…

“Whoa, don’t forget to look up, either!” Goss said, grabbing a hold of Buccina’s arm and pulling him through a hatch in the floor into the church. “Neat, huh? Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the—”

Buccina, already on his hands and knees, found no difficulty in expelling the provisions he’d eaten for supper a few hours ago. Then, he promptly fell over onto his back, panting up at the mural drawn on the ceiling. He hadn’t really noticed it while climbing, but now that he was lying down, it was overwhelmingly clear that the back of his robe was totally soaked with sweat. “Urrgghhhh.”

“Oh, man, are you okay?” Goss said, leaning into view. “If you want, I’ve got some… Oh, no, wait, nevermind, they took it. Sorry, I forgot.”

“Who, haah, haah, haah, took what?” 

Squatting down, Goss scratched his cheek, his eyes moving across the inside of the church. Craning his neck, Buccina could almost follow his gaze. The church was… Not quite as he’d expected it. Most of the windows were cracked or fully smashed in, a number of the benches were charred, and there was a distinct smell of gunpowder and smoke, even though the raid had been months ago. “Before the whole… you know… I used to keep some dried tarantula stashed in the altar. Yeah, yeah, not very devout of me, but, you know… Sometimes you get hungry. But then, when they attacked, well… They kinda wiped out the altar.”

“They… did…?” 

“Yep. Whole darn thing! Took the rosilver candlesticks, the gurum chalices, the…” His lip twitched, dipping, ever-so briefly, into a frown. “The absolution chasuble. Took it right out. I don’t even think they knew the worth of it, they just took everything. The only thing they left was the holy feather of departure. The second-class relic of the God of Goblins. Isn’t that ridiculous? They took the box, but left the feather! It’s so stupid.”

“That’s awful,” Buccina said. “I’m so sorry. If only we’d known then…”

“Hey, hey, no need for that! You didn’t know. It’s fine. The church is still standing, right? I’ve heard, normally, when the Hope League attacks someplace, they usually burn the church. Oh, nothing against you, of course. You’re… You’re fine, Buccina.”

Buccina wiped the tears from his eyes. “Thanks, Goss. I don’t… I’m so sorry, and this has to sound ridiculous to you, but… I really wanted to see that chasuble. Kitty spoke so highly of it, like it was a truly magical object. The feathers of all dragons passed. And now it’s gone, and…”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s… It’s awful. Once the war is over, we’ll start a new one. All the way from scratch. It’ll look a bit empty at first, but… Who knows? In eighty years or so, it’ll be big and fluffy again, ripe for the viewing!”

“Sure. And I’ll be an old grandpa.”

“So will I. We’ll both be old grandpas, so it’ll be okay for you to visit.”

“Okay. That would be nice. I’ll… I’ll do that.” Breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat, Buccina was returning to his old rhythms. No more gasping and panting. Though his mind buzzed and his lungs still burnt, he’d be fine. The ache in his limbs would go away. He’d be fine, as long as he could lie there, a few minutes longer. “So it’s… just the two of you here?”

“Yep, just the two of us!” Goss said, taking a seat next to him. “Me and Father. Father and me. Kempt wanted to stay with us, but Father wouldn’t have it. Said whelps like him need to get out and see the world, not stay cooped up in mountains. Of course, Kempt didn’t really like that, but that’s how it goes sometimes.”

“You don’t feel like leaving?”

Goss’ eyes slid over to the side. “...Why would I? Plenty of space, I can do whatever I want, mass is always nice and quiet, never have to worry about big unpredictable dragons… And the company is pleasant, of course! I love Father. Besides Kitty, if there’s one person I could spend my whole life trying to become, it’s Father.”

Buccina looked at the slightly older boy. In many ways, though they barely knew each other, he could have considered the man to be his brother. A slightly older, slightly stupider brother. “You’re closer to becoming Kitty. You’re as poor of a liar as he is.”

A weary smile tugged at Goss’ lips. “...Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He sighed. “Well, alright. Yeah. I would like to leave. But I can’t. If I left I’d be leaving Father all alone in this empty mountain. Can you imagine that? One goblin to occupy the whole thing? It’d tear him apart!” To pronounce his point, he threw his arms out, before letting them slack down atop his lap. “I don’t know if you know this part, but before I got better, years before I came here, Father used to have another apprentice. But he left. It’s sort of a coming-of-age rite. And, sure, that’s how it goes, but… If you’d seen how happy he was when I got better…” Though the church was dark, in the presence of such warm memories, Goss was practically glowing. “I couldn’t leave. Not like that.”

“So you stayed,” Buccina said. “Even though you should’ve left.”

“Should’ve, should’ve… Formers live a long time, you know? We don’t even have lifespans, typically speaking. There are records of some formers living to be thousands of years old! What does it matter that I spend a few of those years with Father? Once the war ends, I’ll have plenty of time to go my way. But, right now…” His lower jaw trembled. An odd gleam took hold of his eye. “He needs me.”

For a few seconds or so, Buccina simply looked at Goss. Gradually, the image in his head, forged over many, many evenings spent listening at the window, overhearing the stories Kitty told, the mythical figure of Goss Fletchling, began to merge with the actual person in front of him. As young and as unsure as Buccina himself. 

Groaning to himself, Buccina sat up, until he could look Goss right in the eye. “That’s a shame. I’m sure Kitty would’ve loved to meet you again. He thinks really highly of you, you know.”

“...He does?”

“Indubitably. Likewise, I am fairly certain that he considers you… and I, to an extent… part of the reason why he can go on.”

“Huh. Really? Well, I’m… I think I’m glad to hear it. No, that isn’t quite it… I’m sorry to hear he needs reasons to go on, but I’m happy that he has us, if that’s the case.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” And for a few moments, sitting in the empty, ravaged church, the two of them only watching the other, a mutual feeling crossed them, from heart to heart, flesh to flesh, eye to eye. They smiled, one at the other, and though he would never have considered it an hour ago, Buccina opened his hand, and reached out across the open air between them, holding it out to Goss.

“What’s that for?”

“A handshake. It’s a human custom. It means we’re equals, and I’m not hiding any weapons.”

“Like a hornbump?”

“What’s a hornbump?”

“It’s a dragon thing,” Goss said. “You only do it with dragons you really trust, though. Bump horns together and it’s a promise not to hurt each other. And a greeting, of course.”

“I see. If you shake my hand, we can bump horns, if you want.”

“Even though I don’t have any horns?”

“I won’t hold it against you.”

“How gracious.” Grinning, Goss took hold of Buccina’s hand, and they shook hands, once, before releasing. “Now, for the hornbump, you go in, like this…” He leaned in, lowering his head, presenting his smooth forehead. “See, when you do this, if the other dragon wanted to, they could easily rip your throat out… But you trust them not to. And that’s why you can do it.”

“Okay,” Buccina said, leaning in as well, letting his eyes close. Bump. 

Goss giggled. “That was totally off! Your horns are way wrong, man.”

“I can’t help my horns, they grew that way on their own!”

“Sure. You’re still a freak, though.”

“Hey! I demand a rebump!”

“Me? Bump horns with a freak? I think you’re asking a bit much.”

“Am not!”

“Am too!”