Mithil & Fluteria

A thin wisp of a young girl sat in the corner of the hotel room where her companions had gathered.  Her robe seemed to swallow her as she rocked back and forth.  Even though she shivered with cold she kept her distance from the fire around which her comrades clustered.  The magnificent butterfly preening in her palm captured all of her attention.

Fluteria’s language was of aerial dance.  She could communicate vast and elegant nuance with subtle movement.  If only Mithil’s spell casting was as expressive as her movements….

“Mithil, it’s cold!”  The butterfly screamed this with a movement that darted towards Mithil’s left eye.  Abashed, Mithil warmed her hands with a cantrip to just the temperature her friend loved.

“Better?”  She whispered to her friend, even if the rest could hear, as the little being returned to her palm.

Fluteria radiated contentment and there was no need for more words. 

“Mithil?”  The butterfly looked at her expectantly and then danced in her palm to say, “you zoned out again, didn’t you?’

“I’m sorry baby.  I marvel at you.”  Mithil again kept her voice to a whisper because Fluteria had remarkable hearing for such a tiny being.

The butterfly indignantly flew away and did a gyrating, counterclockwise circle around the mercenaries’ head.  The motions were mocking and disturbingly obscene.

Mithil’s expression soured, “no, I do not care at all about that one.  I have to act nice to her because I need her.”

The tiny butterfly managed to flutter with skepticism.  She swept her wings wide, asking, “and the rest of them?”

Mithil sighed, “well you saw the duskblade sit in front of a bar radiating cold evil without a care.  I think not.”  Fluteria actually managed an audible laugh at this, nodding with mirth at the memory.

Mithil shuddered, “and the cleric, Hilvin, he and that damned spell…. Who would risk that, ten years off of a life!  No skill, not chance of fighting back to where you were meant to be.  Just “bam!” ten years gone!”

Fluteria looked at Mithil gravely until Mithil responded, “I don’t know Flute.  Ten years would kill most butterflies but I do not know about you.  We will not do it again.  I promise.  Not until I am certain.”

Fluteria communicated her unease that she had gone through the portal even once.   Mithil stroked the little being’s wings lovingly, letting sparkles of light fall onto the delicate form of her friend, “really, I promise.  Never again.  I am sorry.  I didn’t want to do it but should have asked you.”

Only slightly mollified, the butterfly, turned her attention to the window where the ranger and the dog boy stood outside in rain with the cart.

“Flute, I don’t know about them.  The dog boy is obviously crazy and unreliable.   He is, after all, part dog!  I’ve not said two words to the ranger.  I do not know those two.”

Fluteria continued her dance, only it there was a tinge of awe in her movements.  

Mithil nodded, “yes, the angel… who can say about such beings?  Both male and female and divine… wait… Fluteria….”

The butterfly stopped in mid dance, looking nervous.  If a butterfly could blush…

Mithil laughed out loud, the first noise the group at the fire could hear.  She returned her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “reeeaAALLYYY?!  How very interesting!  You have a thing for the intersex angel?!”

The butterfly swooped up and landed on Mithil’s nose, making Mithil’s eyes cross.  Her chittering was audible, “no!  I just find her and him beautiful!”  The butterfly flew back to Mithil’s palm in a huff.

“Flute, you are sulking!  I’m only kidding.  I do not care if she is intersex… but she’s an angel and she’s…,” Mithil struggled for a way to say this last bit delicately, “somewhat larger than you.”

Fluteria stomped out two words, "Not sulking!”

Mithil laughed lovingly, “you know, Flute, you have a ways to progress before any being other than me would even be able to talk with you.   Are you not content to be mine?”

The wizard conjured a bit more heat to warm her friend, “and I do love you.”

Fluteria pantomimed being torn in half.

Mithil grimaced because the pantomime was so realistic, “Okay, okay, don’t’ do that!  You know I hate it when you do that.” 

Mithil considered her words, “Fluteria, you are my only friend in this world.  I will work to become a better wizard so we can find a solution.  You have my word.”

Mithil hesitated before considering, “but, dear friend, what is it you want?  Is it this angel?  Or is it more?”

Fluteria’s dance was expansive of her hopes and dreams.  It lasted for a full five minutes.  Mithil found herself speechless, silently weeping, and burying them both in her overlarge robes.  It was a private moment they would never share.  She said the words to match the dance.

“You want another metamorphosis... you want to be my equal, not familiar. . .”  

“You want to love me from a point of independence; where that might lead you do not know any more than the rest of us.  You want a full life….. you said more but my words are not as expressive as your dance little beauty.”

They both sat in their own version of silence for half an hour before Mithil spoke.

“Fluteria Brealshil, I promise you this,” Mithil said these words formally and the words took on a power of their own, more than a simple promise between friends.

The butterfly hovered in front of Mithil’s face, gazing with hope, as Mithil continued.

“I will work for your next metamorphism.  Nothing is more important to me.   I will do all that can be done but it will take time.”

The little being circled Mithil’s face with inaudible, fluid, whoops of joy.  Her fluttering wings kissed Mithil’s face.

“Fluteria Brealshil, there is more.”   Mithil looked stern, “and you know what you have to do?”

Fluturia chittered, “not” and then feigned a death spiral falling back to Mithil’s pale palm.  Fluteria was motionless on her back.

Mithil grimaced at the realism of the dance “yes! You must not die and this is no joke!  Stay alive so you are more intelligent with age and I have more to help you with.  I KNOW if you aged without progress that would be a loss.  But listen, dear friend.  Just stay alive.  That’s all I ask.   Even if I appear to die, save yourself.  You must live so another can complete my promise.   I will write a note as soon as possible to my Aunt so there can be another if I fall.”

With that somber note, Fluteria nestled into her sleeping pouch, a caged construct designed so that Mithil could not accidently crush her friend, and the two drifted to sleep bonded together.