Grimoires and Gunsmoke

It had been days since the raid, and the rather sizable but quaint village had transformed into a makeshift base of operations.

The village itself was a curious blend of stone masonry and wooden structures, a testament to its growth and prosperity. With stone-built shops acting as its backbone, the once humble collection of thatch-roofed and wooden homes had slowly expanded until it became well on its way to becoming a proper town.

However, the once quaint village had now taken on a new character. Temporary shelters had been erected that cleverly blended in with the existing architecture, giving shelter and disguising the strange beastless carriages that it kept hidden from prying eyes. Other vehicles were stationed outside the village, either acting as sentries or had camouflage netting draped over the roofs, breaking up the outlines and making them virtually invisible from above.

Meanwhile, Soldiers moved to and fro as they carried equipment and mingled with the populace. The villagers were initially wary of the foreign presence, but with the goodwill won by Coleman and his ODA, they had slowly come to accept the newcomer's presence.

Amidst the activity, a particularly mischievous fairy flitted around their unconscious prisoner bound and gagged in the back of a Ground Mobility Vehicle. Her tiny form zipped through the air, leaving a fiery trailing behind her like a comet's tail.

"Eli! Eli, I think this one's broken!" Yana called out in a high-pitched voice that tinged with a mix of amusement and mock concern. With a playful grin, she bonked the captive on the head, her tiny fist making a comically soft thud against their skull. "We should throw it away!"

Elijah grumbled something ineligible under his breath as he peered into a young boy's swollen mouth with a small flashlight. The child's cries filled the air, a mixture of pain and fear that tugged at the heartstrings. Beside the boy stood a young girl, her head hung low in guilt as she tried to suppress her own tears, her small frame shaking with each hiccup.

The medic's eyes darted towards Yana, his brow furrowed in annoyance. "Yana, leave the prisoner alone..." he warned in a low growl. The fairy's antics, while amusing at times, were a lot less enjoyable when he was already annoyed and treating his most hated of patients.

Children…

Turning his attention back to the boy, Elijah's voice took on a firmer edge. "I said... STOP. MOVING." He narrowed his eyes, fixing the child with a stern gaze that brooked no argument. The boy, startled by the sudden change in the medic's demeanor, froze in place, his sobs subsiding into quiet whimpers.

“Fuckin’ kids…” Elijah grumbled as his gaze then shifted to the young girl, who seemed to shrink under the weight of his scrutiny. She had clearly played a role in the boy's current predicament, and the guilt was written all over her face.

"Alright, kid," Elijah sighed, his voice softening slightly as he addressed the girl. "What happened here? And don't try to sugarcoat it." He continued as he pulled out a swap and put it in the boy’s mouth to staunch the bleeding.

The girl's lower lip trembled as she tried to find her words. "W-we were playing k-knights n’ monsters… and… and…" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "and... I didn't mean to hit him so hard. It was an accident, I swears it!"

Elijah's eyes narrowed as he listened to the girl's explanation, his fingers still holding the swab in the boy's mouth. He was about to respond when a flicker of movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw Yana bouncing gleefully on the unconscious prisoner's chest, treating it like her own personal trampoline.

A frustrated sigh left his mouth as the medic mouthed a few wordless curses, his eyes closing in exasperation. His free hand instinctively moved to his face, ready to rub away the headache that was forming, but he stopped short when he remembered the nitrile gloves covering his fingers were covered with peasant blood and saliva.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake..." Elijah groaned, letting his hand drop to his side in frustration. He took a deep breath, choosing to focus on treating the children rather than dealing with the tiny menace's antics at the moment. “Goddamnit…”

Turning back to the girl, Elijah took a deep breath, trying to push down his discontent. Dealing with children was never his strong suit, and they often left him feeling out of his depth. But as he looked at the girl's guilty face and the boy's tearful eyes, he couldn’t help but let a scowl flash across his face for a moment.

"Look, kid," he began, his voice taking on a more relaxed tone, "playing knights and monsters is cool. I get it. It's fun to pretend and swing a stick around, hell I did it too when I was a kid."

The girl rubbed her eyes, sniffled, and looked up at the man.

Elijah leaned in closer as if sharing a secret. "But here's the thing. When you're playing, you gotta remember a couple of rules. First off, never aim for the face. That's just asking for trouble."

He gestured towards the boy, who was still sniffling softly. "I mean, look what happened here. No one wants to end up with a mouthful of blood, right?"

Shaking her head vigorously, the girl’s pigtails bounced as she took in this new rule set.

"Right? Now second," Elijah continued, holding up two fingers for emphasis, "you can't be swingin’ too hard. It's all about control. The more control you have, the better you move around and get the other guy!” Elijah moved and twisted his body around like he's shadowboxing. “Plus, you want to have fun, not actually hurt each other."

He fixed the girl with a meaningful look. "You don't want people to be scared to play with you, right? They might not want to join in if you're too rough."

The girl's eyes widened with realization, and she nodded solemnly. "I don't want to play alone," she said softly in a barely whisper voice.

With a nod, Elijah turned back to the little boy and put a damp towel on his busted lip. "Exactly. It would suck to play alone, wouldn't it? So, if you want to keep having fun with your friends, you gotta remember not to aim for the face." He pressed the towel against the kid's lip, causing the child to cringe in pain and yelp. “I don’t wanna do this shit again, so next time, I’ll just let you bleed, got it?

Elijah turned back to the little girl while his patient writed in pain, "Now listen up, both of you," he said in a more serious tone. "I want you to keep this towel and cold when you press iy against the part that hurts, okay?” He continued as the little boy tried to get away, but Elijah just pressed down harder to indicate there was no escape. “If you see it getting bigger or if any white stuff starts coming out, you come find me or any of the other healers wandering around unless you want to die painfully."

The children looked at him wide-eyed and horrified eyes as they scooted closer together and nodded in understanding.

"Just ask for a healer or something," Elijah continued while carefully pulling his gloves off his hands, "and tell them you think you have an 'infection.' They'll know what to do."

The boy sniffled his hand picked up the wet cloth out of the bucket, and gingerly placed it to his swollen lip. The girl walked around and quietly apologized once more to her friend as she inspected the wound, tentatively reaching out and grabbing his hand.

"Alright, now, fuck o-" Elijah started but caught himself before the curse could slip out. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was dealing with children. "I mean, go away! Go and do whatever it is you kids do! Git!" he corrected, making a shooing motion with his hands.

As the children scampered off, Elijah let out an exhausted sigh, the tension he was feeling from the interaction finally catching up with him. Dealing with kids always left him feeling drained, like he had just run a marathon while trying to herd cats.

He pushed himself up from the ground, his knees popping in protest. “Fuckin’...” He groaned as he straightened up. But when he turned towards Yana, his gaze fell upon a sight that made his blood pressure spike.

There, sitting cross-legged on the unconscious captive's face, was Yana. The mischievous fairy had one leg draped over the other, enthusiastically clapping her hands as a wide grin spread across her face.

"Well done! Well done!" she chirped, her voice carrying a note of gleeful pride. "I did not know handling proto-humans was a part of my human’s skillset!" Yana placed a hand over her mouth as her eyes narrowed in mirth. “Go make me some proto-humans so I can have more apostles!”

Elijah stared at her with a scowl etched deep on his face that spoke of both disgust and annoyance. Sometimes, he wondered if Yana took some perverse pleasure in pushing his buttons and wanted to see just how far she could test his patience before he snapped.

"Yana," he ground out while shaking his head, "what did I say about messing with the prisoner?"

The fairy giggled incessantly as she fluttered off the prisoner and darted towards Elijah in a blur. With a mischievous grin, she landed belly-first onto his hair, rolling around and making herself comfortable.

"You said, ‘don't!’" she chirped, her tiny hands grasping at Elijah's hair and pulling handfuls out of the neat bun he had fastened. "Your hair stinks! Go take a shower!"

A long-suffering sigh left Elijah's mouth as his shoulders slumped in resignation. He knew from experience that trying to dislodge Yana when she got in this mood was an exercise in futility. The fairy seemed to take a perverse delight in tormenting him, and the more he resisted, the more she persisted.

So instead, he simply started walking away, ignoring the manic fairy as she continued to make a mess of his hair. He could feel her tugging and pulling, her tiny fingers working to undo his curly ponytail.

"Why the hell is he asleep, anyway?" Elijah asked, jerking his chin in the general direction of the unconscious prisoner. "Shouldn't he be awake by now?"

"Huh?" Yana replied, momentarily distracted from her hair-pulling antics. "What does that have to do with a bath? I said take a bath!"

A scoff left Elijah’s mouth as he waved his hand dismissively. "Sure, yeah, whatever. Later. Just answer the question."

Yana shrugged in a way that looked comical on her tiny frame. "You wanted a quick burn, so I gave you a quick burn! Sometimes it fries people's brains and stuff."

Pinching the bridge of his, Elijah couldn’t even fathom the frustrated feeling that was boiling up within him. Although there were no KIAs, they had still taken casualties for this goddamn dude, and they ended up with a lemon rather than the well of information they were initially hoping for. "So we have a fucking vegetable?"

"Maybe. Can't tell." Yana gave another unconcerned shrug as she continued to muddle her apostle's hair.

The medic closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm the rising tide of irritation. This was not the news he had been hoping for. A prisoner who couldn't talk, who couldn't give them the information they so desperately needed, was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

Elijah had come to a stop in the middle of the dirt road leading to the gate of the village when he placed his hands on his face and looked up. “Satan on a stick… Why the fuck does everything go to shit all the time…?” He murmured before dragging his hands down while villagers walked around him, giving him a wide berth and staring at the man as if he lost his mind.

With a shake of his head, Elijah continued on despite the manic fairy making a nest out of his hair. There was a lot to do and people to kill, and he couldn't afford to get sidetracked by Yana's antics or the frustration of having a potentially useless prisoner.

Ever since they started stealing back the tribute collected by the now-deceased lord and bringing it back to this village, the locals' attitudes had shifted dramatically. What had once been tepid tolerance had blossomed into general acceptance and, soon after, favor. While the village chief had been a voice against their presence, the man’s son and the ever popular Blacksmith had stood in support of the Operators' presence.

The raid on the convoy had been a turning point. Not only had they secured valuable resources and intelligence, but they had also learned that the convoy had essentially abandoned their encampment, leaving behind a treasure trove of goods and supplies.

Word had spread quickly, with the help of signal intelligence teams roaming around setting up communication relays, and soon every special operations team in the area knew what was up. There was now a conveniently placed forward operating base to call their own. Hidden away in the valley and surrounded by forests, there was now a place where they could drop off wounded, rest, resupply, and launch new missions—a vital lifeline in the chaotic landscape of this strange new world.

As Elijah made his way through the side of the village that the refugees and modern soldiers were regulated to, he couldn't help but marvel at the transformation that had taken place in such a short time. The once-quiet streets were now filled with the hustle and bustle of life, as people from all walks of life went about their business

The refugees, grateful for the protection and support the special forces teams provided, had thrown themselves into helping in any way they could. Some were busy moving crates of supplies, their faces lined with a newfound sense of hope. Others were engaged in more domestic tasks, such as washing clothes and cooking meals, and perhaps most striking of all was the sight of them tending to the wounded. Their gentle hands and soothing words provided comfort to those unlucky enough to taste the steel of a blade or the effects of magic.

On this side of the village, everywhere Elijah looked, he saw the flags of partner nations milling about. His gaze traveled to a Japanese Special Forces Group contingent, who were joking and laughing as they reloaded magazines and checked weapons in preparation for another mission. Meanwhile, the Australian SASR and Polish JWK seemed to take some well-deserved rest and relaxation as they lounged around, eating the local cuisine or trying to talk up the locals.

A smirk flitted across Elijah’s face. He finally had evidence that he wasn’t the only one trying to get cozy with the village girls. Nevertheless, the man resumed his trek, but his attention was suddenly drawn upward when a yelp and a string of colorful curses echoed out. Towards the top of an enormous tree that stood at the edge of the village. There, precariously perched among the branches, was a group of signal intelligence specialists from The Activity, the Tier 1 unit known for their intelligence expertise, whether signal, communication, or human.

As he watched, the operator, who let out a high-pitched scream, had apparently lost his footing and started flailing wildly as he tried to regain his balance. For a moment, it looked as though he would plummet to the ground below, but at the last second, he managed to grab hold of a branch, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

Once it was clear the man had finally regained his footing, the area erupted into chuckles at the poor man’s misfortune while the individual in question’s face flushed with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. The operator shot a glare at his teammates as if daring them to comment on his close call before turning his attention back to covering up the communication relays they had just installed with foilage.

"This is like the 3rd time the fuck almost fell," a familiar voice suddenly piped up from beside Elijah.

The medic turned to see Mack, an old friend and Navy SEAL he had worked with extensively in the Middle East and Africa, standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"You'd think they'd have learned to tie themselves up with a tether by now," Elijah replied, shaking his head in amused incredulity. "Like come on, that’s the first thing they teach you in mountain warfare or SERE."

Mack snorted, “Ya, well there’s this fucking weird chipmunk-squirrel thing that keeps popping out and chewing through it or some shit, its the funniest shit I’ve ever seen!”

Elijah couldn't help but double over and start laughing. “Ahahahahaha! W-what!?” He nearly shouted as he shook his head. “What the fuck is this world, dude?” He couldn’t help but lose it at the thought of one of the spookiest Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) teams with all their niche and fancy training and high-tech equipment being defeated by an alien squirrel.

It was truly an absurd spectacle.

Laughing equally as hard, Mack couldn’t help but rub his bald head. “I dunno, dude, but everyone’s just been watching and laughing while the bastard gets mad as fuck.”

“You know what?” Elijah said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, "We could ask Yana to give them some flying lessons. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to oblige."

As if on cue, the manic fairy popped her head out from Elijah's hair, equally as amused. "Sure they could for… about 3 seconds," she chirped, her wings fluttering with mirth.

Both Elijah and Yana started to cackle together as Mack took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise at the sudden appearance of the tiny creature. "Uh, Eli," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of unease, "your hair is talking."

Elijah sighed, reaching up to pluck Yana from her perch. "Mack, meet Yana. Yana, Mack. Play nice, you two."

The fairy and the SEAL eyed each other warily like two cats sizing each other up before a potential scrap. But after a moment, Yana broke the silence. “Your head is shiny.”

“I’ll put you in a blender.” Mack shot back while narrowing his eyes.

A fit of giggles left Yana's mouth as she yanked on Elijah’s hair. "I like this one," she declared, hanging down from Elijah's head and using her tiny hands to pat the medic’s cheek. "He's not boring!"

Mack looked at Elijah, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "Do I even want to know?"

Heaving a heavy sigh, Elijah simply shook his head and headed for his original destination.

To find the SEAL’s stash of mortar rounds and S.T.E.A.L. (Strategic Transfer of Equipment to Alternate Locations) them.