Crusade Gone Awry Ch. 10

"Over here mother," Mirat began. "This is my husband, Oren." The human jumped a little in surprise and smiled sheepishly. The meeting with Mirat's other parent didn't exactly go well. By contrast, however, the old woman smiled and held out her clawed hand a little awkwardly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Oren," she said. "This is how humans say hello, right?"

"Oh, yeah, most of them," Oren said uneasily. He gently took her hand and shook it, not wanting to hurt the old woman. He tried not to wince as she squeezed his with far too much strength, making him afraid she might crush it. She wasn't that old, apparently.

"I hope my husband wasn't too unpleasant," the chicken woman continued. "He's very protective of Mirat. She's our only child, you see."

"It's perfectly fine," Oren said, like a liar. He tried to shake the pain out of his partially crushed hand without anyone noticing. "Your daughter is a...special woman."

"I can only imagine," the basan replied. "She takes after her father, you see."

"I see..." Oren said, sounding uncomfortable again.

"Try some of the food, mom!" Mirat asked, sounding just like a human child pestering their mother.

"Well, if you think it's good," the basan said, looking a little apprehensive. She took the fork offered to her by Oren. She slowly brought it to her mouth and opened her lips, preparing to take a bite.

"WHAT IS THIS?" a loud voice boomed. Oren went stiff and quickly became pale. The voice that had shouted was Mirat's father, the last basilisk

"Oh no, I'm going to die," he said flatly.

"Oh, stop it!" Mirat said, giving him a light punch on the arm. The crowd of basan and cockatrices parted as the massive snake monster came slithering through them. Oren began to feel his knees go weak. Mirat just looked annoyed.

"Father, don't act like you're surprised! I asked you if you wanted to come, but you said no and tried to stop mom, too. Don't come here acting offended!"

The basilisk, however, looked very offended. His slit-like eyes fell on Oren, who abruptly wished he were literally anywhere else.

"I hunted that herd of beasts," the snake monster began. "What gave you the right to ruin them by cutting them up and undercooking them?"

"He cooked them fine!" Mirat defended. She took the fork out of her mother's hands and reached up over her head towards her father. "Just try it!"

"Why should I try ruined meat?" the basilisk hissed.

"I mean, if you're too scared..." Mirat teased. The snake man sneered at her before he reached down and took the utensil from her. He sniffed the piece of meat for a moment, grimacing. He put it into his mouth, expecting to hate it. Instead. his face dropped and he flinched. His eye twitched in fury as he turned and quickly slithered away, wordless.

"Just like a basilisk," Mirat's mother muttered. "Never can admit that he's wrong. Come now, let me try some of it." Her daughter offered her another piece, which the basan took. She put it into her mouth and her eyes brightened. "It is good! You have quite the cook for a husband."

"Yeah, I know," Mirat said, as if it were her accomplishment. She wrapped her arm around Oren and squeezed him to her far too tightly. "I know how to pick them!"

"I literally just wandered here out of the desert," Oren said flatly. "You didn't pick anything."

"Shut-up or I won't step on you tonight," Mirat hissed in his ear.

"Wha...I don't...like with claws or just the foot?" Rather than sounding disgusted, Oren sounded a little excited. Mirat grinned at him sneakily. The old basan in front of them stared at the twofor a few moments, blankly. She then picked up one of the dishes to take a piece of meat before sighing and walking away from them.

"Just like her father..." the old woman sighed.

"Your dad's not gonna kill me, right?" Oren asked weakly.

"He's all talk," Mirat reassured him.

"LISTEN HERE HUMAN!" a voice bellowed.

"I'm gonna die!" Oren shouted. He somehow slipped out of Mirat's grip and hid behind her back, huddling. His wife narrowed her eyes, already appearing done with this shit. The basilisk surged through the crowd, moving at a lightning pace. He stopped in front of his daughter; his head flaps fully extended.

"I'm the leader of this tribe!" the basilisk shouted. "If you want to take that right, you're going to have to fight me for it!"

"No need!" Oren cried, lifting a hand from behind his wife. "The tribe is yours! I don't want it!"

"Oh, for the love of..." Mirat muttered.

"How dare you come into this tribe and ruin food!" the basilisk continued to rant. "You think you can add some plant bits to the meat, undercook it, and feed these women I protect?"

"That's an awful lot of words for "delicious,"" Oren said, bravely cowering behind his wife. The basilisk let out a roar of frustration and the human let out a yelp of fright.

"Are you just going to hide cowardly behind a man's daughter?"

"When that man is a thirty-foot snake monster, you bet I will!" Oren replied.

"Would you two just...!" Mirat began. She never got to finish.

Quite abruptly, every single person except for Oren turned towards one direction in the desert. As there was silence for a few seconds, Oren peeked out from behind Mirat, completely confused.

"Uh...what happened?" he asked. Mirat was the first one to turn towards him, sighing.

"The demon king is calling us," she said. "All fights are officially on hold." Her father let out a frustrated hiss and slithered away. The crowd of women also dispersed, heading to their own caves.

"Oh, well that's good," Oren said, dusting himself off and stepping out from behind his wife. "What uh...does the demon king want?"

"He wants all of us to go meet him in the desert. Picked a place and everything."

"That was perfect timing. Wait, everyone?"

"All of us."

"But if you go, that means I have to go."

"Yes, it does."

"That means I'm going to have to meet the demon king."

"So it would seem."

Oren went pale again and began to sweat profusely. "Mirat, I've changed my mind. I'd like to fight your father for the leadership of the tribe."

His wife rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Just put out the fire and get your stuff. It's not going to kill you." She began walking away, apparently to do as she instructed.

"For the record, it might!" Oren shouted after her, his voice high.

"Do what I say or you're not getting the foot!" Mirat cried back.

Oren seemed to ponder it for a moment, but ultimately sighed and began putting out his cooking fire with sand.

"Why does fate hate me?" he muttered bitterly, already looking forward to the next terrifying chapter of his life where he got to meet an actual demon who had terrorized this land for centuries.