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Summary
Stepping back behind the crates, he grips his dagger with both hands--one by the hilt, and one by the wooden sheath. He pictures the spirit in his head, tall, friendly, translucent, and as he pulls off the sheath, the blade shines in a faint blue light.
"Hi, Tommy."
Tommy jumps and looks up. He's still not used to it.
On one of the crates is the spirit, joyfully swinging his legs back and forth. The yellow sweater is pulled over his hands and his smile is so big, his eyes are almost completely closed. "Since when were we on a boat?"
Tommy can admit that he feels quite overwhelmed, faced with the spirit. There's just nothing in textbooks about this one, nothing to read up on that can help him with this experience. He's the first one, after all, and he has no idea what the spirit is capable of.
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(Or: Even in a Magical Alternative Universe, Tommy manages to get exiled. Maybe it's not entirely his fault. At all.) -
Bookmark Notes:
Cringejum pog
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