You, Me, and the World Between Us (Dragon Quest)

XIII - Metal Slimes

Though the Zamoksvan duo were elated that they were able to continue onwards on their journey, adjusting to the new form of travel proved difficult. Maxim, who was at a loss of what to spend his time doing, had officially declared wagon travel boring. Ragnar sat at the front of the wagon, holding his horse by the reigns and directing it through the desert. This left the royal siblings and their monster companion at the back of the wagon with nothing to do. Inessa stared out the opening in the back at the sandy wasteland before them, while Maxim bounced his foot up and down impatiently. "This is insufferable! I can't just sit waiting around and doing nothing! I would much rather walk through this desert on my own two feet than ride in this wagon!" he exclaimed, jumping up in a rage.

Inessa looked up at her brother with wide eyes, surprised by his sudden outburst. She pursed her lips together and shook her head, sighing as she stroked Thorn's fur. The minidemon sat curled up in a tight ball on her lap, fast asleep. "I don't think it's as terrible as you're making it out to be, Maxim," she addressed her brother with a scoff, "think of all the days we've spent traveling lately. The chance to rest hardly shows its face to us, save for when we have to sleep. Personally, I think it's nice to sit back and put our feet up for a change," Inessa finished with a nod and a smile.

Maxim groaned, stamping his foot down impatiently as a spoiled child would. He paced toward the back of the wagon, crossing his arms over his chest. His bottom lip stuck out in a pout; even the terrain they crossed over failed to spike his interest. The Tsarevich turned back to his younger sister, shaking his head from side to side. "Last week I would have thought the time to relax would be great. But now, since we've been traveling nonstop, sitting around and waiting is only stressing me out. I've gotten so adjusted to traversing the land and fighting monsters that standing idle feels foreign to me," Maxim complained as he threw his head back, a whine escaping his lips.

Irritated by her older brother's antics, Inessa rolled her eyes and muttered angrily under her breath. "For the Goddess's sake, before we left the castle, you never did anything but sit around and do absolutely nothing. Surely it can't feel that unfamiliar to you," she uttered the jab quietly, earning a glare from Maxim in response. The blue-haired girl shook her head, exhaling slowly. "But, if you really are as bored as you say you are, go speak to Sir Ragnar. Perhaps he could use your help, or he could tell you his part of the story to take away your boredom," Inessa suggested. His interest perked up at the proposal, as he began making his way towards the front of the wagon where Ragnar was.

"Sir Ragnar?" Maxim asked, poking his head out of the wagon. Ragnar looked back, nodding and gesturing for the boy to come out and joined him. The Tsarevich wiggled his way out from underneath the canvas cover, sitting down next to the Scottish man at the front. He sat silent for a moment, observing the world around them. The horse before them marched slowly yet carefully through the sands of the desert, ensuring their steady progress. The red-haired boy turned to Ragnar, pursing his lips together before he spoke up. "I hate just sitting idly in the back. Is there any way that I can make myself useful to you?" Maxim questioned.

"Aye, I know well the boredom that comes along with waiting around, lad. I went out often on our adventures, but there were rare occasions where I was required tae stay behind. I understand what ye're going through, boy. But, if I'm not mistaken, I think I may just have the solution tae yer problem," Ragnar said, wagging a finger in the air with a wink. Maxim raised his brows, his attention focused purely on the soldier. Holding the reigns with one hand, the Scot gestured at the vast desert before them. "See this, lad? Ye wouldn't think it just from looking at her, but this here desert? Laden with silver beauties ye've probably only heard about in stories. That's right, quick little creatures that making some of the finest fighting experience a man can have."

"Metal Slimes," Maxim recognized, recalling the Tsarina mentioning them once or twice in her stories. Ragnar beamed beneath his mustache, tapping a finger to his temple as he winked at the boy. The Tsarevich nodded along, before furrowing his brows together and turning to the old soldier with a look of confusion. "And you bring them up why?" he trailed off, tilting his head to the side.