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“It’s just frightening,” the serving maid whispered conspiratorially to the man next to Mirio at the bar. “They say the witch can transform into any animal.”
The man nodded before taking a long draw of his ale. He slammed the mug onto the counter, causing the maid to jump and place a hand to her breast. “I seen it skulking around on the edge of town. Face like a rat, claws like a raven.”
“It ain’t natural,” the maid agreed. She replaced his empty mug with a new one.
“Who knows what sort of curses it’s laid on the town?” the man to the other side of the maid chimed in. “My brother keeps losing sheep.”
The first man raised his mug to the sky. “And this drought! No doubt the witch’s curse. If it weren’t for me damn leg, I’d go kill it. Free us from this misery.”
“Ay, you say that about everything!” The second man jeered.
Burping, the first man replied angrily, “I would! What this town needs is a hero. I’d be that hero!”
“Yes, yes,” the maid patted him on the back. “Now drink up.”
“Where can I find this witch?” Mirio interrupted, standing tall from his stool. He placed an easy hand on the pommel of his sword. “I’ll dispose of it for you.”
The second man frowned at him. “And what would you be wanting in return? Jewels? Gold? We have none of that.”
Mirio beamed, ignoring the other man’s scowl. “Nothing, just spread the word to your traveling patrons. I’m trying to make a name for myself as a hero.” He laid his coins for his drink on the bar. “Now tell me, where is the witch?”
At first light, Mirio set off from the inn above the tavern. He rode his horse into the dense woods. He followed rather vague directions based on natural landmarks: start on the path until he hit a fork with a weathered boulder, and then go left. He followed it until he came to a stream, and then left the path to trail it north. He had to move slowly so his horse’s legs wouldn’t get caught in the underbrush. He should find a small waterfall in the stream within an hour’s ride. A little further would be a clearing—that would be the witch’s home.
When Mirio located the waterfall, little more than water tumbling down a low hill, he tied his horse to a tree with a rope long enough that it could reach the river’s edge and continued on-foot. He could smell smoke and it wasn’t long before he came upon the clearing. A small cabin sat with its back to the stream. A single white chicken pecked at the grass surrounding a small vegetable garden. He snuck around the exterior of the cabin. A strange smell emanated from inside. He gagged.
When he checked a small shed at the back of the cabin, he opened the door slowly. He jumped in dismay. Animal parts, dried and preserved, hung from the walls. A deer skull stared at him despite not having eyes. He covered his mouth. This had to be the witch’s place.
Marching back to the front, Mirio threw the door open and held his sword before him. The witch turned and-
He was gorgeous. They hadn’t said anything about that. Mirio nearly dropped his sword while drinking in the man before him. The first thing he noticed was the pale skin, including the pointed ears that contrasted with wild, blue-black hair. Black eyes glared at him. The witch’s mouth widened in a snarl. His teeth looked distinctly carnivorous, possibly canine.
“What do you want? Who the hell are you?” The witch grabbed a knife and pointed it at Mirio defensively.
Mirio found himself at a loss for words. The lean body looked tensed for fight or flight. “I, uh.” He swallowed against a sudden thickness in this throat. “I’m Mirio.” I’ve been bewitched. He’s cast a spell on me without needing to utter a single word.
Knowing his name didn’t help this beautiful creature relax. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m-” he thought telling the witch that he was here to kill him would be detrimental- “The townsfolk sent me.”
“To kill me.” The witch’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve done nothing but exist, yet they fear me.” His downcast eyes were so full of dejection that Mirio felt guilty. His instincts were usually right, and they told him that this witch wasn’t going to hurt him unless Mirio attacked first.
“What is your name?” Mirio asked.
Eyes wide, the witch was surprised at his question. “T-Tamaki,” he answered hesitantly. He wondered why his murderer would need to know his name.
“Tamaki,” Mirio repeated. He relished how the name rolled off his tongue. He liked that name. “You’ve never attacked them, or their livestock?” He questioned. “Haven’t cursed someone’s flock or changed the weather?”
Tamaki snorted. “Of course not. But it’s my word versus theirs. Who would you trust?” When Mirio didn’t answer, Tamaki turned to face him again, one arm transforming into a giant crustacean claw, and the other into a suckered tentacle. “I warn you, sir, that if you attempt to kill me, I will defend myself.”
Mirio fell back, so surprised that his legs couldn’t hold him upright. Tamaki took his reaction as fear and grimaced, a growl in the back of his throat. He shrunk back and hid his face. If he ever traveled with animal features manifested, he always transformed his face. That way, he could still go to the market unnoticed in his human form. But it was too late, Mirio had seen him.
“That’s amazing!” Mirio flipped over so he was on his hands and knees, sword forgotten on the ground behind him. “Tamaki, that was incredible!” He grinned as he got back to his feet. “Can I touch?”
Tamaki, face still hidden behind transformed arms, didn’t say no. He wasn’t sure what this stranger’s motives were. Everyone usually screamed when they saw him transformed. They feared him. But this man didn’t cower; he approached with seemingly genuine curiosity. This Mirio had no survival instinct.
Unless this was a ploy to get through his defenses, to get close enough to stab him. And even if he survived this encounter, Tamaki could never go into town in his normal form again. Unless he killed Mirio, he could tell the townsfolk what Tamaki really looked like, under the animal transformations.
“Tamaki?” Mirio’s voice was so close that Tamaki had to look. The other man had closed the distance between them. Tamaki could reach out and touch him.
He wanted to touch his animal manifestations. Tamaki held out his tentacle timidly. Mirio covered those last couple feet, arm outstretched, but his fingers passed Tamaki’s tentacle to cup his cheek. Life devoid of affection, Tamaki couldn’t help but shudder and lean into the contact. He was touch-starved without knowing that was a thing.
“You’re so lovely,” Mirio murmured, so quietly that Tamaki wasn’t sure he was aware he said it aloud. Tamaki blushed and backed away to hide his face against the wall. “Is it magic? A curse?”
Tamaki tried to take a deep, shaky breath. His heart was pounding. The wall felt like an anchor. “You don’t want to kill me?”
Mirio had the decency to look abashed. “I don’t,” he admitted. In his excitement, he had forgotten his original purpose in finding Tamaki.
Sighing heavily, Tamaki turned back to Mirio. “I was born with this ability. I can take on characteristics of whatever I eat. So if I eat a crab-” he raised his claw- “I can manifest any part of it. If I eat deer meat, I can grow antlers or a snout, so I could use its sense of smell. I usually go into the market once a week or so to see what the butcher has. I’ll buy meat to salt and preserve, that way I can have it any time I need to use my power.”
“That explains all the stuff in the shed,” Mirio figured.
Tamaki stared at him. “You went in my shed?”
Ashamed, Mirio deflected. “Seriously, Tamaki, you’re so awesome!”
Face red, Tamaki muttered, “you don’t have to flatter me.”
Mirio pouted. “I’m serious!” An idea popped into his head. “Why don’t you come with me? We can travel around and become heroes together!”
A part of Tamaki thought the offer tempting. It’d been so long since he had civil human contact and he loathed to lose it so soon. “You do realize that you’ve just met me, right?”
“Yeah,” Mirio started, “but you seem like an amazing person with an awesome power. Think of how much good you could do, how many people you could save!”
They wouldn’t accept me, Tamaki thought. Even if he saved people, they would still fear him and his ability. That was just human nature. Well, except in Mirio’s case, it seemed. The man seemed like the personification of the sun, but without the harsh light that Tamaki avoided. He was all warmth and shine.
“I’ll think about it,” Tamaki half-promised.
Mirio beamed as if he’d won.
Before Tamaki knew it, Mirio had stayed the entire day, talking and helping with chores. His animal manifestations had long since disappeared and he felt exposed, but Mirio seemed to mean him no harm. Soon he noticed the darkening sky and twilight drew near. “W-would you like to stay the night?” He instantly regretted the offer, but he couldn’t let Mirio travel in the dark and without a path.
“I would,” he answered. “I need to get my horse, though.”
When he left, Tamaki didn’t expect him to return. He was sure the other man would use the opportunity to realize how silly the idea of staying was, and he’d try to return to the village. He busied himself from intrusive thoughts by starting a fire.
The door opened again, and his heart leapt. Mirio grinned at him. “Did you miss me?”
He did. Tamaki hated himself for it, but he did. He was so desperate for attention, it seemed. Instead of answering, though, he asked, “how is your horse?”
“Fine,” Mirio replied. “I tied her to a post outside and filled a bucket with stream water for her, if that’s okay?”
Tamaki nodded and began preparing dinner. Mirio helped cut the vegetables and they ate with a joviality uncommon to Tamaki. It was only later that Tamaki remembered that he had only one bed. He never had to think about it before. He mentioned it to Mirio, shaking and blushing.
Mirio’s cheeks grew pink as well. “We can share,” he said. “I don’t mind.”
So after the sun fell, they crawled into bed together. Tamaki turned to face the wall and made himself as small as possible. Mirio was broad and took up a fair share of the bed. He turned on his side as well, facing Tamaki. It was so quiet, unusual for the sun-kissed hero, that Tamaki assumed he’d fallen asleep.
Silently, and so slowly that Tamaki thought he may have been dreaming, Mirio’s body drew closer to his back. Soon the would-be hero was so close that Tamaki could feel his breath on the back of his neck. It was uncomfortable but not quite unpleasant. Mirio’s body radiated a calming warmth. Something in Tamaki settled as he closed his eyes and drifted.
And as he awoke the next morning, Mirio’s larger body wrapped around his protectively, Tamaki came to a surprisingly easy decision. After all, what he had to gain far outweighed anything he may lose. He turned over. Mirio squirmed, waking. He was bathed golden in the light of sunrise. He muttered something indignant that didn’t sound like words.
“I’ll do it,” Tamaki whispered shyly. “I’ll join you.”
Mirio was awake now and his answering smile filled Tamaki with a fullness he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t help smiling bashfully as Mirio kissed the bridge of his nose. He could venture out into the world and he wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore because this strange man would protect him. He could stay by his side. Mirio would be his hero.