Not everyone is cut out for the hero lifestyle in this fantasy microfiction called:
The New Heroes
Grand Master Tamer J. Ward stood off a few tens of feet from the battle and surveyed the situation. Examining the two new recruits.
It was as he expected: they were terrible.
The boy had not yet worked out that one used the spear by stabbing, not hitting the side of the target with the wood. The other child, a girl, held her magic book upside down and was still trying to conjure a demon five times her capabilities.
But, neither had died yet, and that alone was an improvement from the pair he’d dealt with last week. These kids were smart enough to understand that the creature in front of them, with its twin heads and sharp claws, wanted them dead, and that dodging was important.
Tamer settled his staff into a crack in the wrecked ancient battleground and leaned on it with a grimace. This place, by its lack of shade, was much too hot for his liking.
He sighed, as the fighting continued, and did the one thing which might bring him some joy. He took out the pouch full of gold. The amount a parent will pay for a chance for their precious kid to be the hero of the land was not meager, and he could spend the next entire month drinking at his favorite bar if he so desired on that gold.
And, as he’d hoped, this thought did indeed bring him immense joy. He fantasized about possibly even buying a pair of local whores for the night. But, his pleasant thoughts ruptured like a bubble when he heard a scream for help.
His eyes focused on the source of the noise, and he grimaced again as the boy’s spear cracked and then his ribs did too, with about the same intensity of sound.
The girl, at that moment, worked out the issue with her reading from the book and turned it right-side up. Immediately before a paw the size of her head hit her skull. She spun and dropped the book and held up a desperate hand in defense.
Tamer raised an eyebrow and reached into his pocket. He shifted his hand around until he found the salvation and safety contained there. It crinkled and seemed to glow in the sunlight. It was a beautiful white roll of paper, covered in some of the most complex writing in the entire land.
He read all the way from the top to the bottom of the legal document before jumping back to reread the section stating his utter lack of responsibility for injury or loss. And then finished his calming routine by tracing his fingers over the parental signature.
Satisfied, he placed the contract back in his pocket, pulled up his staff from the earth, and walked off as the screams fizzled away and hungry tearing sounds filled the gap. But with the excitement in his steps, Tamer’s coins jingled along and covered up the unpleasant noises quite effectively.