Pup's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

Morning came, and Pup still had no answer. He sat on the cold obsidian floor. Three giants waited by the walls of the frost temple. Fenrir, the wolf who had thrown him across the ravine. Gorbov, the blue slime who had caught him. Dale, the void-faced guardian who kept the door between the living and the dead. Each one watched Pup with quiet hope. Each one wanted to be his true love. Pup wanted all three, and that was the problem. "I can't pick," Pup said. His voice was small in the huge hall. "I climbed the whole mountain and I still can't pick." Gorbov's shoulders sank. Fenrir's ears fell flat. Dale said nothing, but his tendrils drooped low. Pup stood up. He looked at the horned crown on its pillar. Black leather, pale ram horns, waiting. It was made to make him tall. Big enough, maybe, to stop feeling so small next to men like these. He walked to the pillar. He lifted the crown with both hands. It was heavier than it looked. "Wait," Gorbov said. "You choose first. Then the crown." "No," Pup said. "I choose now." He set the crown on his head. Heat rushed through him. His bones stretched. His feet pushed against the floor and kept pushing. The pillar shrank below him. The walls dropped away. Gorbov backed up. Fenrir's head tipped up, then up more. Pup grew past the wolf's shoulders, past his eyes, past the top of his ears. He did not stop there. He grew past Dale, the tallest of the three. The void looked up at him now. Pup kept rising until his mohawk nearly brushed the temple ceiling. He was twice their size. The three giants stood below him like children. Pup looked down at his own huge hands. Then he looked at the three small men. He laughed, and the sound filled the whole hall. "I know now," Pup said. He knelt. His knees boomed on the stone. "I couldn't pick because I didn't have to. Look at me. There's plenty of me now. Enough for all three of you." Fenrir's tail began to wag. Gorbov's frown cracked into a grin. Dale stepped forward first. "You're sure," Dale said. Flat, plain. "I'm sure," Pup said. "All of you. If you'll have me." Gorbov climbed into Pup's palm. Fenrir pressed against his arm. Dale leaned into his chest. Pup wrapped all three men up together. They fit inside his arms with room to spare. They laughed, and Pup laughed with them. They lay down on the cold floor, tangled together, warm despite the frost. Pup rested his huge cheek against the pile of them. Four of them, breathing slow. They slept. Pup had his crown. He had his size. He had three men who loved him. This seemed to be the perfect ending