Devil Incarnates

Chapter 4: The Blue Fairy

Chapter 4: The Blue Fairy

Philoctetes was a three foot two inch-potbellied-short tempered-woman crazy-half man-half goat-stubborn- sweaty-cynical-slob.

He was also a saint. A saint of Kindness. His birthmark, pinched inside the skin folds of his lower back, was an upright infinity knot. The top of the infinity knot was a heart.

And when one was a saint of Kindness and a three foot two inch-potbellied-short tempered-woman crazy-half man-half goat-stubborn- sweaty-cynical-slob, there was only one job suited for him.

Philoctetes (Phil) was a trainer of heroes. Big hearted and in touch with his inner demon, Phil was the "tough love" sort. He coached bed-wetters into angels with flaming swords. He turned saints into Saints with a capital S.

And holy matrimony was he good at it.

Until recently.

"No! NO! No no no no no NO! You wet lambs! You freak shows!" Phil stomped to the waterfall. "What did I say?! What did I say?"

Phil squinted at the three soaking heroes-in-training. Inwardly, Phil placed a big emphasis on the 'in training' part, because this trio was hopeless.

First, there was Hercules. Dumbo ear, carrot haired, cheesy grin Hercules. He had biceps the size of watermelons, monster calves, rippling pectorals and a heart of pure gold. Hercules was the quintessential saint of Kindness. A.k.a: whimp.

Second, there was Mulan. Mulan was a saint of Charity, and she gave 164% effort every day. The embodiment of determination-meets-empathy, Mulan gave Phil everything she had, which wasn't much. After all she was a girl. Losta brain; little brawn.

And third, there was Garrett. A saint of Humility, Garrett was tall, rugged, handsome...and blind. His attributes included a walking stick and a silver-winged falcon named Aiden that Garrett could apparently understand. Phil grunted. Nuff said.

Objectively, Phil could summarize the three saints with three adjectives. Hercules: big, not so bright. Mulan: bright, not so big. Garrett: big, bright, but blind.

It was pitiful. In all his glorious years as a hero-trainer, Phil never had a less competent group. Sure they were chivalrous, noble, brave yatta yatta yatta, but holy matrimony they were all so...saintly. It was annoying. And it was getting in the way of the butt kicking.

Phil scratched his rump. He pulled out a few hairs. These kids would need a miracle to survive this training mission in West Illtyde.

"What did I tell you punks?" Phil repeated as Mulan and Hercules helped Garrett from the water. He splayed all fingers. "Rule Number 10! Rule Number 10! Does anyone know Rule Number 10?"

Hercules grimaced. Garrett snorted. Mulan spoke.

"Rule Number 10: Watch your footwork."

"Ohhhh!" Phil said. "So you all remember Rule Number 10, do you?"

Nods.

"Because y'all forgot it pretty good out there playing fancy footloose with Kaa, Creeper, and Fidget!" Phil shouted, hopping on the riverbank. "Holy matrimony! What was that? We practiced footwork last week! You know the acronym! FSWAEBKBBOYF! FSWA feet shoulder width apart, EB equal balance, KB knees bent, and BOYF on the balls of your feet! Then you can fling into the ol' lunge and punch - "

"Well that explains the left hook." Garrett said, mopping his bloody lip. "Hercules. Nice punch."

"That was Mulan."