Lepidopterophobia

Chapter 1

Tyrael sighed, clutching the withered corpse of the flower in his hand. It was once a beautiful white, almost pearly. A merchant had informed him it was called a tulip. It was pretty, sure, but it brought butterflies. Demons with wings, if you asked Tyrael. He remembered the days when he had a full garden of flowers, and butterflies would come in swarms. It was enchanting, and even his brother gasped at the sight.

But they all died, after a week or two. Each little one would fall dead before it ever saw beyond the village.

Every. Last. One.

He didn't need that in his life, so into the pocket the flower went.

A passing dragonborn noticed Tyrael and walked over, an irritatingly large smile on her scaled face.. 'Not this again...' At this point he was starting to get used to being questioned in the middle of nowhere. Where was he from, was he ok, where are his parents, where did he get the earring.

It was really starting to irritate him.

She crouched down to match his height and put her hand on his shoulder. "What's a lil' fella like you doin' out here?" she asked, her voice seemingly raised an octave to seem less threatening.

The elf glanced at her. He wasn't in the mood for this at the best of times, and right now was anything but the best. And people had been doing this for years, wasn't he allowed to be mad once in a while? People got mad at things all the time. Hells, Tyrael had seen a group of adults yelling at a bag earlier. Something about bad fabric. If people were allowed to be mad at fabric, then of course he could be mad at something like this!

But Tyrael simply glared, pulling himself away from her and walking a foot or two away to gain some personal space. As irritating as he found it, he wasn't a violent person. He normally either kept his anger silent, or got sad instead. It wasn't intentional, of course, and he really wished that he could stop, but no matter what he did he just couldn't do anything about it.

Then again, was that really that surprising?

He shook his head a bit, looking up from the ground and continuing to frown at the stranger in front of him.

"For your information, I'm 14. Perfectly normal age to be adventuring. And sorry I'm not a giant like some people, but I'm still average height." He brushed some nonexistent dirt off his shoulder.

The 'average height' elf turned around and started to walk away. He turned around, just as...

Nothing. He turned around and literally nothing happened. The dragonborn heard the small boy move again and similarly turned to look. She burst out laughing. And nope, apparently she didn't raise her voice at all, it was just naturally high pitched.

"Pfffft- AHAHAHA! You thought I was gonna fight you or something?"

"You- I- I thought- You were gonna attack me!"

The woman in front of him absolutely lost it at that.

"You thought- HAHAHAH- you thought I'd fight you? Why, cause I'm a big bad stranger? Bud, I don't care what you say, you're a kid. I wouldn't fight you!"

Tyrael fumed. Why was she laughing? It surely wasn't normal for someone to find an adventurer being rightfully cautious this funny.

She was a very tall stranger, who's level of tolerance against irritating short people was unknown to him. And he also didn't know if she was armed or not, and whether she was dangerous. Or violent. Or was known to keep grudges.

No reason for him to not be cautious.

Or for her to laugh this much.

It genuinely felt like years before she finally stopped, even if it wasn't more than a second or two. People passing by were staring at them, obviously wondering what was so funny, and Tyrael felt his face turn a deep shade of red with embarrassment. How did she have that much air in her lungs? Was she part mermaid or something? But, thankfully, she did eventually cease the apparent torture.