"...I suppose it would make sense that a sword might be a bit bloodthirsty. I enjoyed parts of it, I will admit - there is a thrill to fighting. But it was somewhat eclipsed by the bite. Speaking of which-"

He cuts his trouser leg off at the knee and does his best to bandage the wound. "I do not think I am too badly hurt, Madame Felicity will be able to take care of it. But it is best to be safe."

Yes. Important to be safe. Tintin is a very good and beloved friend and he should be SO safe ALWAYS and NOT get hurt.

Tintin returns to town and stops in at the Temple of Calistria. "Madame Felicity?"

A woman emerges from a back room, drying her hands on a silk cloth. "I see you've managed to mangle yourself."

This is all very mysterious but Zarhan is still a little keyed up from the fight and is a little bit wondering if they are going to end up stabbing her. She seems like she would be fun to stab. Then again, it is possible that Zarhan thinks this about most living creatures.

Tintin pets Zarhan absently. "Indeed I have; sharp as ever, my lady. Heal me?"

"Oh, fondle your sword at me about it, why don't you?" Her eyes glow viridescent, and there's a wash of prickling energy through the room, and the wound on Tintin's leg closes up.

"I'm not fondling him at you," Tintin apologizes.

Oh!! This person should NOT be stabbed!! This person did a very good thing and Zarhan is happy about it. What is the opposite of stabbing? He wants to do the opposite of stabbing to her. Is it pats? Can he pat her?? He probably cannot pat her because he is not independently mobile. Can Tintin pat her?

Tintin's hand twitches. "Ah - Felicity, this may sound like an odd question - may I hug you?"

"You're right," she says. "That sounds like an odd question."

"...my sword has awoken," he attempts to explain. Noticing her expression: "Um. My - the - this one," patting Zarhan, "the actual sword, not - anyway. And he wanted me to express my gratitude for your healing me. And his suggestion was to pat you, as I pat him, but - a hug seemed more appropriate? And. I wish to model positive behaviors?"

She takes pity and hugs him. "So that old thing turned out to be magic, huh?"

Oh, that IS the opposite of stabbing!! There are nice feelings and no one is bleeding! What a good thing to learn.

"He did turn out to be magic! I have named him Zarhan. He is pleased to learn of hugs."

"Plan on giving him any other lessons?" Felicity asks.

"Not at present," Tintin answers. "It was lovely to see you."

"Same. Come around when you're not bleeding sometime."

Friend? Friendship?? Is this a friendship?? Friendship is very good.

Tintin leaves the temple with a spring in his step and collects a reward from the town elder, a papery-skinned elf whose eyes are white through. Then he leaves her house and is accosted by a small dog.

     "Androvel Tinuvian!" the dog says in a deep, confident voice.

"You are a dog," Tintin says intelligently.

What's a dog? Apparently that's a dog. Do they not normally talk?

     "Yes," the dog sighs, "I am currently in the form of a dog. I'm actually an archon."

Tintin's brow furrows. "A hound archon? Aren't those usually -"

     "Not a hound archon. A harbinger archon, if you must know. I am in this form because it allows me to pass beneath the notice of the forces that wish you harm. For the most part."

"For the most part?"

     "Well, as it happens I was not... as successful in avoiding notice as would be ideal," the dog hedges, "and there may be a small swarm of imps pursuing me. Let's call killing them your, um, qualification exam."

"My qualification exam for what-"

At this point, a swarm of tiny devils bursts out from the trees. The dog scampers to hide behind Tintin.

?I

What an unhelpful dog! Zarhan vibrates indignantly. People should NOT lead swarms of hostile creatures to Tintin!!

Tintin tries gamely to hit the tiny hostile creatures with his sword while simultaneously protecting the unhelpful dog and avoiding their sharp little claws and teeth. Unfortunately, there are dozens of them, and though he dances back from the swarm with each cut he makes, a few manage to surge forward and bite him. Their bites are shallower than the wolf's, but they burn, a dull ache spreading from the site through Tintin's body.

     "They're poisonous!" the dog says unhelpfully. "Try not to let them bite you!"

"Putain de- I am trying! It is difficult to kill forty devils with one sword!"

—nope. No. None of this. Absolutely not.

Zarhan's blade ignites, a gold-edged black flame streaked with drops of strangely liquid red, and he—shifts, somehow, in Tintin's hand—and now it is Tintin who is the passive partner in this relationship.

The world seems to slow to a crawl around them. Zarhan moves through the air with grace and certainty, first cleaving an arc through the swarm, then curving out to the side to flick the tip of his blade through a straggler before coming back around to slice the swarm from another direction. A creature darts forward, teeth aimed for Tintin's arm, but Tintin's arm is long gone when it gets there and Zarhan is exiting the swarm in plenty of time to take its tiny head off its body on the backswing.

Being wielded by a sword like this is strange, inside and out. They are unified, a single being, with barely any distinction between blade and body; Zarhan isn't fighting the way a person holding a weapon would fight. Every movement of Tintin's body is fluid and efficient, and his body is moving—Zarhan has not discovered a capacity to levitate—but it's the sword that's leading the dance, and it shows. They never stop moving, never flinch or freeze or stall, until the last creature in the swarm falls to the ground in two smoking pieces and Tintin's body pivots so that Zarhan is pointing, still on fire, directly at the dog.

He wants to say something, something like how dare you be so careless with my Tintin, but he can't figure out how to make the voice parts work, it's not obvious the way it's obvious how to move the body around. After a heartbeat or two, he just lets go instead.