Jim Armstrong and the Goblet's Curse

Chapter 2: A Dragon Deems Me "Worthy"

   I was too shocked to reply. The boy, who looked no older than me, had killed this monster as easily as if he were killing a mosquito. He walked towards me, fishing something out of his fanny pack. I couldn't see properly and my shoulder was numb with pain. The boy crouched beside me, what looked like a syringe in his hand. He grabbed my left wrist, the one with my tattoo, and held the syringe to the center of the circle, to my vein. My eyes widened in fear.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," I said, jerking my wrist from his grasp. "What is in there? And who are you?" The boy took my wrist again.

"This is spray varnish."

"What!?" I pushed him away and got up, then almost fell over from a wave of dizziness. The boy caught me before I could hit the ground and pushed me to the wall, holding me there. He rolled up the sleeve of my left arm and stuck the syringe into my vein. The needle bit into my skin. It hurt so much, I almost cried out, but then the pain slowly dissolved as something icy cold, probably varnish, as the boy had said, shot into my system. Then I noticed that not only had the pain from the needle had vanished, but my vision was clearing, and my shoulder didn't hurt anymore. The boy released me and when I raised my hand to my shoulder, I couldn't feel the wound, whatsoever.

"See?" The boy said, putting the now empty syringe back in his fanny pack. "That wasn't so bad." I still said nothing, just staring at him.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that staring is not polite?" the boy asked, not sounding offended, merely curious. I still said nothing. Why the hell had spray varnish miraculously healed all of my injuries? Nothing could do that, as far as I knew. And why was this boy here, right now, somehow knowing that it would heal me? Weird. All very weird. The boy continued.

"You know, when people do things for you, you usually say thank you. And since I did something as amazing as saving your life, I'm at least expecting a thank you. Or if that's too much, a parade in my honor would be acceptable too."

I blinked. He blinked.

"Okay, I'm just going to pretend that you thanked me, and answer with, your welcome."

I stared.

"Do you even know how to talk?" This jerked me out of my shock and I re-asked the question I hadn't gotten an answer to before.

"Who are you?"

"Noah LeFever. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He stuck out his hand.

"You have blood on your hand," I said. He looked down and went to grab a paper towel. "Oh, don't worry, it's not mine. It's yours. That shoulder wound was a nasty one."

"What happened to it? My wound?" I asked.

"Healed," Noah said, throwing out the paper towel. "By the spray varnish."

"How-

"Patience, child."

"I'm the same age as yo-

"It's not in my place, alright? I can't tell you."

"Then why didn't you just tell me that-

"Just-" Noah made a calm down gesture with his hands. Suddenly, my tattooed wrist tinged with pain. I grabbed it, and Noah grabbed his wrist in pain too. Weird. We felt the same pain. Noah looked back to me.

"More Greyons are on their way," Noah muttered to himself. "That Greyon alone was almost disastrous. You weren't supposed to appear on their Radar for another week."