Chapter Text
Chrastí [xrasti:], noun
- brushwood
- Loose, dry twigs. If from a spruce or fir tree, often used to start a fire.
Magic is a strange substance. Making up the bodies of Monsterkind and weaving through the world as it pleases. Sewing its delicate threads through its very fabric.
It’s no wonder that from time to time, it finds a cozy spot and stitches together a soul.
And on this warm summer evening, Vasil was lucky enough for such a spot to be under his meat skewer. In between two simple tripods.
Straight in his cooking fire.
Although the aging, salt-and-pepper colored monster had no idea about it yet. He just watched over his dinner, fur heckling up whenever the wind picked up, threatening to burn down the entire contraption (food included).
He heaved one of those oh-so-heavy sighs dogs excel at, standing up to stretch. “I’m almost done over here! How’s the tent going?”
He got a sharp bark in answer. “Finishing up anchoring. No need to help.”
“Wonderful!” He sat back down.
The sharp crack he heard (which also definitely wasn’t his back) nearly startled him back to his feet.
Leaning over to the fire, he scratched himself behind an ear. Did he put a wet stone into it again by accident? That was a thing you weren’t supposed to do, right? He couldn’t remember if he checked—
Wait, no, Kudrna made this pit. She wouldn’t make such a mistake.
But what, then? He picked up a nearby stick and gently poked around, squinting to see anything suspicious.
The flames squinted back. And then he felt a gentle tug on the piece of wood. He let it go, completely baffled, and watched it get pulled into them.
Huh.
“Honey.” He couldn’t look away.
“Yes?” The significantly bulkier monster appeared behind him, finished with her work. “Something wrong?”
“Is fire supposed to have eyes?”
Kudrna huffed, seemingly done with everything. “Nonsense. Even for your standa— oh.” Two bright spots swayed in her direction. “Oh dear.”
“What?”
“Not aimed at you.” She sat down by the fire, watching as the spots followed her. “That’s a child.”
“Like—” He shuffled closer, quieting down. “A monster?”
She nodded. The flame apparently decided their conversation wasn’t as interesting anymore, shifting attention upwards.
“You think it’s— they’re a fire elemental?” They looked at each other with various degrees of concern, Vasil curling his tail around himself. “I don’t think I know— I don’t think we know much about fire elemen—”
A loud sizzle-pop cut him off. The flame was stretched over their dinner, curiously rolling over it, leaving the pit under with only hot embers. The stick it was skewered with was starting to catch fire.
“Our food! It’s going to burn!” Vasil yelped and nearly jumped into the fire, before his wife’s resolute arm grabbed his collar and yanked backwards. “H-hey! What for?”
She looked him straight in the eye and raised a claw. “Kid.” And then a second one. “Made out of fire.” Third. “That you were going to grab with your bare paws.”
“Ah.”
He picked up another spare twig and waved it underneath in hopes of luring the elemental back down. They were utterly disinterested. Vasil whined.
“Give me your spice box.” Kudrna waved her paw, and he, despite not having any idea why, did as asked. She rummaged around in it for a while, before picking out a particularly long thyme stick. “There.” She gave it back. “Maybe they want something more… intriguing than an oak twig.”
“Alright, I guess.” He nudged the flame with it gently.
That got their attention.
“Yes, great, good! Buddy, how about you moved back down?” He led their eyes to the embers below. “I don’t know about you, but it seems a lot comfier than a greasy piece of meat.”
They slid over to the bottom of the skewer, taking a closer look at the plant.
“Yes, yes! Isn’t it interesting?” He tapped it into the embers and then brought it back up. “Down, see? Doesn’t that sound nice?”
The flame dimmed down, bright spots vanishing for a second. Thinking, perhaps? Kudrna was watching them with the sort of barely contained entertainment over the situation only he could read.
He jumped up as the thyme got yanked out of his paws. “Again? Could you—”
They ignored him, cheerily flickering as they spun around the pieces of meat, before stabbing the twig into a convenient bit. The air filled with smell of slightly burnt spice. Seemingly content with their work, the fire puffed one last time. Then they slid down onto the embers, settling into them and dimming into reddish oranges. Sparking a tiny bit.
Vasil could’ve sworn they curled up like a cat. Why he thought so, he wasn’t sure.
“Already got opinions about your cooking.” He got elbowed by his wife, smile now in full force.
He huffed, a similar expression appearing on his snout as well. “Are you insinuating something about my skills?”
“Nah.”
“Be careful what you say, or you might not get a piece of our barely surviving dinner,” Vasil stuck out his tongue.
“About that.” She gestured towards the flame which gently swayed towards him as he took the skewer off the tripods. “They might want some as well.”
“Well shoot. Like this, we’ll barely have—”
A thunder sounded overhead. The sky was dark.
“Stars, this one rolled in very quick—” Vasil winced as first few drops hit him right on the nose.
“The shelter’s ready, we can just—” They both turned to the firepit in unison as it hissed and flashed white. “The kid!”
Kudrna was on her feet first, summoning a long raincoat from her inventory and awkwardly stretching in it to cover the shivering elemental. “Vasil! We need to get them out here before the pit floods!”
The sky tore open and the rain turned into a downpour, one that you had to yell over to hear anything at all.
“How?!”
“I don’t know, just—” She was, frankly, rather busy trying to shield them from the strengthening wind without catching on fire herself. “The pot?”
“The pot!”
It only took a few moments before Vasil made his way through the water curtains with the cookware in his paws, but it felt like an eternity. He dove under the raincoat, scooped the terrified crackling elemental, embers and a bit of dirt and all, loosely covered them with a lid and bolted to shelter.
Inside, he barely managed to set his passenger down gently before curling in a corner to lick burnt paws with. A wooden handle on a metal pot could only protect him so much.
Kudrna followed not too long after. She sat down next to the elemental, taking a spare shirt to move the lid to get a good look at them. Actually using her brain, unlike him.
The flame didn’t seem to be thrilled by it all, still flashing whites and rattling around in their container.
“Shh, just a check. Won’t hurt you.”
By the time they sufficiently calmed down for her to perform the necessary magic, Vasil’s burn faded from incessant into an annoying sting. Perhaps this would end well, after all.
Hopefully.
“…How are they?”
“Alright. Hurt a little, but nothing serious.” Tension left her features. “And definitely a monster.”
“Got a name from that check?”
She wilted again, and despite hesitating, her answer was obvious. “No.”
Vasil rubbed his chin with a grin. “Then we better make one up!”
“Oh dear.”
“Sparkles? Firefly. Sunshine!”
“You’re horrible at naming things.”
“I know!” Vasil grinned. “That’s why I’m giving them plenty of terrible options. Charry. Flicker. Maybe Chef? Grillby—”
The lid of the pot lifted up enough for two eyes to peek out in his direction.
“Grillby? Do you like Grillby?” He couldn’t help tilting his head and excitedly slamming his tail against the floor.
There were no angry sparks in response, only another confused look between the two dog monsters.
“Alright then, you can change it later if you want to.” Kudrna waved at the flame. They startled, retreating back inside with clatter, leaving the lid just ajar enough to let air in. “For now, welcome to the world, Grillby.”
They let the raindrops drum into the tent’s canvas for a while. Watching the light in front of them slowly calm down from agitated flickers into a comfortable, sleepy pulse.
“Sweetheart?” Vasil whispered.
“Hm?”
“I think we’ve just gained a kid.”
“Grandkid.”
“If that makes you feel any better.”