thehero-and-thevillain

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Orqa and Kael (NOT Hero and Villian)

“You’re rooming with our most high security prisoner.”

The lizardfolk man in the beige jumpsuit almost tripped over the chains bound to his ankles, blinking owlishly in the dim light of the prison.

“I thought this was intel gathering?” He asked the warden as he was led down the long stone hallway by two armed guards.

“It is,” The warden replied, “Intel gathering from our most dangerous captive. We were assured you’d be up for the job.”

The man’s eyes hardened, “I am. I just wasn’t expecting...”

“We know they killed pretty much their entire street in one night and just laughed about it when they were caught,” The warden explains, starting to fish the large ring of keys from his pocket, “We know they’re human.”

“Human?” The lizardfolk echoed, “That’s... unusual.”

“You can say crazy. Insane. Impossible,” The elf opposite him supplied, fiddling with the keys, “Human’s died out. There aren’t many left.”

They came to a collective stop just before the end of the hallway where a large bolted metal door stood, intimidating.

“They might still be a bit... damaged,” The warden glanced down to the door and then back to the chained spy beside him, “Their last roommate died last week.”

“You’ve had other people rooming with them?”

“That’s the thing,” The warden shrugged, “They’re not dangerous. They’re one of our best behaved inhabitants. Their last roommate had been here for about nine months.”

“What happened?” The lizardfolk asked.

“There was an accident,” The warden answered shortly, “She died.”

The lizardfolk went quiet, averting his eyes to anywhere but the elf in front of him.

“Are you ready?” The warden nodded towards the door.

“Sure. Why not?” The lizardfolk replied.

The warden smiled a little, before striding over to the metal door. He slid open the hatch and looked into the room.

“Rookie, on your feet, you know the drill,” He barked, and the lizardfolk could hear movement on the other side of the door.

The warden pulled back and closed the hatch, unlocking the door and heaving it open. It scraped across the floor as it did, the sound boring through the lizardfolk‘s skull until it was all the way open. The warden jerked his head towards the room, and the two armed guards pushed the lizardfolk forward until he was inside the cell.

It was relatively small and bare, with two single beds against opposite walls, each with a bedside table and a single lamp, and a toilet and sink that looked to be cut off by a wall divide. Against the far wall stood a person, with fair brown hair and pale skin. They studied the entourage in his cell, as they released the shackles and cuffs from the lizardfolk and stood back to the hallway.

“Play nice,” The warden instructed, eyes flickering between the human and the lizardfolk, “Dinner’s at seven.”

And with that he ducked out of the room and locked the door behind him.

The prisoner finally pushed themself away from the wall, and dropped themself on their bed. Blue eyes studied the lizardman carefully, narrowing suspiciously.

“I’m Orqa,” The lizardfolk introduced.

The prisoner smiled very faintly, leaning back against the wall adjacent to their bed, “Kael.”

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Part 5

The Villain treks across the sand in the dark, tired and worn to the bone, blindly forcing himself towards a cave he’d made his own over the years. The sand slips under his feet, some of it falling into his sandals to creep uncomfortably between his toes. He stumbles on however, eventually ducking into the familiar sandstone cave.

He ruffles his black hair with a gloved hand as he enters, shaking the sand from his head, and takes a few sleepy steps into the sanctuary.

Then he kicks something.

And the something groans.

The Villain looks down, already reaching to draw his longsword from his back, but stops short at the sight of the crumpled body half covered in sand. He prods the body with his foot once more, pushing the person over until they’re lying on their back.

One hand ready to unsheathe his sword, the Villain crouches down and pulls the purple scarf from around the person’s face, leaving it to flutter to the ground in a wisp of shimmering fabric.

“Oh, for the love of...” The Villain huffs, dropping his hand away from his sword.

Lying in the entranceway to his cave, his safe place, is the Hero. Dark skin half covered in sand from where his face was pressed against the ground, his open shirt dyed red.

Red.

The Villain frowns, and runs his hands under the Hero’s cloak but over his shirt, pulling back when he feels warm liquid. Carefully, the Villain hooks his arms under the Hero and heaves him up, leaning the smaller man against himself. He practically drags him further into the cave, past his expertly positioned trap which he miraculously doesn’t trigger, and lays him down gently next to an old sleeping bag.

He quickly lights a lantern and brings it back to set it next to the Hero, before pulling off his blood stained gloves and discarding them on a rickety wooden table across the room. He grabs a satchel left abandoned on a lone chair, before kneeling back next to the Hero.

Hesitatingly incase the Hero woke, the Villain unclips the injured’s cloak and slips his white shirt over his shoulders. His dark stomach is practically all dyed with blood, and the Villain pulls a rag from the satchel to wipe some of it away. The rag eventually reveals a deeply sliced cut just under the Hero’s ribs, making the Villain wince a little.

“Why am I doing this?!” He mutters to himself, rooting through the satchel for a needle and some thread.

A small voice in his head says that there is a bleeding man on his doorstep, what do you mean, ‘why’?! While another reminds that the man he’s helping has caused him nothing but hell for the past year and a half.

Nevertheless, the Villain starts to work.

The Hero wakes some time later, blinking open his groggy eyes. The room is dim, and it takes his eyes a moment to get adjusted to the darkness. And even then, everything is blurry.

He pushes himself up to his elbows, groaning at the effort.

“Please be careful, you’ll pull the stitching,” A voice reprimands from someone across the... wherever he is.

“Oh boy,” The Hero squints, trying to make anything out, “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” The Villain’s voice echoes, “Try to sound a little more grateful, huh?”

“Do you have my glasses?”

“Oh, right,” The Villain moves, and comes closer to the Hero before passing something to him, “Here.”

The Hero mutters his thanks and slips the round frames up his nose, blinking as the Villain finally comes into clear view. The taller man’s hands only inches away from his own.

“Woah, what happened to you?”

The Villain’s hands are red and blistered, but the scars look old. He pulls his arms away quickly, tucking them against his chest, “None of your business.”

The hero shrugs, rolling his shoulders back, “What happened?”

The Villain turns his nose up, “Don’t expect me to know. I found you unconscious and bleeding on my doorstep. I just patched you up.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” The Villain sounds slightly offended, “Why not?”

“I suppose that’s fair,” The Hero shifts himself so he’s leaning against a stone wall, finally casting his gaze around the cave, “So, you live here?”

The Villain’s mouth quirks up slightly — or is that a trick of the lantern’s flickering light? — and says, “No, I just hideout here sometimes. How are you feeling?”

“Achey,” The Hero admits, “I’m sure the Magician will be able to fix me again when I get back.”

“You’ll have to wait until morning,” The Villain stands again, moving back towards the table he’d come from, “It’s late. It’ll be dangerous out there.”

“You’ll let me stay?”

“You’re hopeless. What am I going to do, let you die out there? Where’s the fun in that?”

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Please continue! ♥️♥️♥️

Oop I will!! Sorry I’ve been kinda busy, but I have written the next part! I’ll upload it in a moment for you x

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Part 4

There is a short high pitched whistle, and a dart lodged itself into the wall right next to the Villain’s head. He raises an unamused eyebrow.

“You are a terrible shot. You missed the board by at least a quarter of a meter,” He informs casually, barely even looking away from his sketchbook.

The Outlaw huffs, “I know! I’m dreadful. It’s how I learned to stop placing bets.”

“Because you couldn’t shoot darts?” The Orc asks, confused, from his seat on the floor as he sharpens his axe.

“Everyone betted on darts where I’m from,” The Outlaw explains, running a hand through her hair, “I always lost.”

“You lose at everything,” The Sage comments flatly, appearing in the doorway, then says, “What are you drawing?”

“Huh?” The Outlaw blinks, turning to the Villain, “You’re drawing again?”

“Just a little something,” The Villain replies, “Got inspiration.”

“Would this inspiration be why you vanished earlier than usual the other day?” The Orc questions.

“You vanished?” The Outlaw laughs.

“Didn’t he just,” The Sage muses, “Vanished and left the children on a cliffhanger. They were begging for an ending.”

“I got distracted, that’s all,” The Villain murmurs, still drawing.

“Just like you are now?” The Orc arches his brow with a rough chuckle, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing’s on my mind,” The Villain sneers sourly.

The Outlaw pops up at the Villain’s shoulder, “Hey, I know who that is!”

The Villain yelps and snaps his book shut, trapping his charcoal between the pages.

“Who is it?” The Orc asks eagerly, leaving his axe abandoned on the floor beside him.

The Outlaw gives a sly smile as the Villain glares at her, “Oh, guess! Round glasses, dark skin, curly hair, and he sometimes wears a scarf to cover his head.”

The Orc frowns, “Uhh...”

“It’s the Hero,” The Sage comments calmly, “Who else?”

“Exactly!” The Outlaw beams, “Why are you drawing the so-called Hero?”

“No reason!” The Villain snaps, “Like I said, inspiration.”

“He inspired you?” The Orc snorts, “Oh boy, are you going to start going all righteous on us?”

“No! Not like that,” The Villain sulks, folding his arms and holding his book against his chest, “I don’t know, he was in the city recently. I told him to leave and not come back.”

The Sage clicks his tongue and moves to where the Villain is sat against the wall. The Outlaw moves away as he approaches.

“I can practically read your mind,” The Sage reminds, “I practically raised you myself. You’re transparent to me.”

The Villain looks up through his bangs, “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” The Sage cracks a grin, “So for your sake, I’m not going to tell those two what you’re feeling. But just know... I know.”

The Sage pulls back and goes to move away.

“How can you know if I don’t even know?” He hears the Villain whisper to himself.

The Sage doesn’t comment.

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Part 3

“And you took forever to come back because...?” The Magician asks, barely looking up from where they’re shuffling their deck of cards across the clothed table.

The Hero sighs from his seat on the old sofa across the room, “I got held up, that’s all.”

“Ooh, was there a fight?” The young Dragon gushes, clapping her hands together. She’d transformed into her human form to be around the Magician’s shop as she didn’t want to damage anything, but her skin is still scattered with red scales and there are two horns protruding from her forehead.

“There wasn’t a fight,” The Hero replies tiredly, “I just got held up.”

The Archer chuckles, his hands gripping the Dragon’s sides to make her sit still on his lap on the other end of the sofa, “You’re being vague because you’re a terrible liar.”

The Magician gathers their cards and moves around the table towards the sofa. They present the cards to the Hero, “Pick one.”

The Hero rolls his eyes but obliges, pulling a card from the middle of the deck and holding it out to his friend.

The Magician takes it, turning it over in their fingers, “Reverse Justice. Dishonesty.”

“It’s a card deck,” The Hero smiles fondly, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“They’re a fortune teller,” The Archer points out, “Let them have their fun.”

The Magician scowls, reshuffling their deck, “I make most of my money off Tarot readings. I’m very accurate.”

“Oh oh! Tell my future!” The Dragon beams, throwing herself from the Archer’s lap to latch herself to the Magician’s legs.

“Okay, go and sit at the table,” The Magician instructs gently, and the small redhead bounds towards the rickety seats, “So, will you tell us?” They ask the Hero.

The Hero leans back in his seat, and rests his feet in the Archer’s lap now that the Dragon has gone, “Maybe. Can’t you just read the cards?”

“Funny,” The Magician spreads a small amount of cards over the table and tells the Dragon, “Pick three.”

“I saw the Villain, that’s all,” The Hero divulges after the Dragon had pointed at three cards.

The Archer prods gently at the Hero’s arches with a frown, “Did he say anything?”

“No, no,” The Hero shakes his head, curls bouncing, “No, in fact he was relatively nice.”

“Nice?” The Magician frowns, gathering up the remaining cards and setting them to one side, “Is that possible?”

“It was his city,” The Hero explains, “I found him telling stories to the children. Stories about us.”

“And didn’t instigate a fight?”

“No. He just asked me to leave as soon as possible, and I said I would,” The Hero shrugs lightheartedly, wiggling his toes and making the Archer smile.

“Strength, Four of Wands, and the High Priestess!” The Dragon declares, showing off her cards.

“Wow, two Major Arcana,” The Magician gently takes their cards, “Were any of them upside down?”

“This one!”

“Hm,” The Magician places the cards on the table, “Strength, great courage. High Priestess, feminism and wisdom. And Reversed Four of Wands... personal safety may be compromised. We’ll have to be careful.”

“Wasn’t I meant to draw three as well?” The Hero questions with a grin.

The Magician huffs, “Come here and draw, then.”

The Hero scrambles to his feet, leaving the Archer alone on the sofa, and pulls two more cards from the deck as the Dragon pokes at her own three.

The Magician looks over the two new cards, “The Fool, representing new beginnings. And...”

“And what?” The Archer calls when the Magician fails to continue.

“And the Lovers.”

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Part 2

The chair in front of the Hero is pulled back and his feet fall from it heavily onto the street path. The Hero looks up from his pastry, unimpressed, as someone drops themself into the seat opposite him.

“Why are you here?” The Villain sneers, glaring harshly at the person at the other side of the table.

“Ah, well, y’know,” The Hero shrugs, “Shopping. Sightseeing.”

The Villain blinks, the fight in him evaporating, “You’re... you’re not here to cause a fight?”

“Why would I be here to cause a fight?” The Hero asks, then looks sympathetic, “About the Magician’s wand? They’re still mourning the loss.”

“You’re alone,” The Villain muses.

“Why, yes, I am,” The Hero pulls his pastry apart and pops part of it in his mouth, “Like I said. Shopping, sightseeing.”

The Villain frowns, staring across the table at the Hero like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. In a way, he is. He’s never been able to understand the Hero. Always so selfless, so caring. The Villain has only ever had one goal; protection for him and his city. The Hero seems to have a new goal every week.

When they first met, the Hero was trying to save the lives of a small travelling market as the Villain tried to kill them all. The Villain never understood why the Hero tried to save them. They were weapons dealers— cons who tricked people out of money and mugged them in alleyways.

The Villain had been told he was too violent for his own good, but in his defence, it did always seem to get the job done.

“You live here?”

“I... what?”

“Do you live here?” The Hero asks, peering at the Villain through his round glasses with calm curiosity. A dark hand pulls off another piece of pastry.

“I... do. Yes, I live here.”

“And the children?”

“They live here too.”

The Hero scoffs, rolling his brown eyes, “You know what I mean.”

“I tell them stories. That’s it.”

“Stories about us?”

The Villain narrows his eyes, leaning back in his seat. The hustle and bustle of the street doesn’t stop once. The cafe they’re sat outside of filters customers in and out regularly.

“Yes. They’re not fond of your Dragon friend.”

The Hero laughs, “I guessed not. And neither are you.”

The Villain doesn’t answer that one, and instead just sighs through his nose, “When are you leaving?”

“This evening,” The Hero replies, “I’ve secured a carriage that happens to be travelling back to my city. So don’t worry, I’ll be out of your way soon enough.”

“Good. If people found out who you were...” The Villain shakes his head softly, trailing off.

“Something tells me we’re quite similar.” The Hero wagers.

The Villain looks up, suddenly glaring, “No. We’re not,” He stands, looking down at the Hero, “Do yourself a favour, and don’t come back here any time soon.”

Then he turns on his heel and disappears into crowd.

[thehero-and-thevillain]

The Hero and the Villain, Part 1

The Hero’s feet carry him through the bustling streets of the vaguely family city. He’d only travelled here a few times, leaving before he could get settled. But still, he knows it well enough to get around with no problems.

He wanders into the main square, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. A gust of warm wind blows his scarf up into his face, and he makes a small noise of surprise as he shoves the fabric away again.

The square is busy, with market stands lined up around the perimeter, draped in colourful cloths and selling every type of trinket the Hero could imagine. And in the centre is a grand fountain, with a statue of the city’s founder in the centre, someone the Hero doesn’t recognise. But standing on the ledge of the fountain, is someone he does.

Children are sat scattered on the cobblestones in front of the fountain as the person talks to them with wide hand gestures and a playful smirk on his face. The Hero notes that he is rather animated when he talks, more acting out a story than telling one. He can’t help himself but to stand at a distance and watch, hanging onto the familiar person’s every word.

“The fiend had a dragon as an ally!” He tells the children, who have their eyes trained on him, “A dragon! Tall and fierce! But I knew I could defeat the beast! So I drew my sword and yelled ‘Dragon! You threaten my people, and I will defend their honour for years to come!’”

The speaker runs a hand through his hair, shaking his dark fringe from his eyes. He’s wearing gloves, despite the heat, and a long coat to cover whatever he is wearing underneath. He raises his hands again.

“And the dragon roared!” He cries, and the children gasp in fear, “But do not fret! I am here telling you the story, aren’t I? And there are no dragons in sight!”

He shakes his hair out of his eyes again, this time with a carefree laugh, but something catches his gaze. He stops, hands lowering slightly and face falling as he catches sight of the Hero standing to the side. His grey eyes meet the Hero’s brown, and he frowns before looking back to the children with a grin.

“So I charged the dragon down—!”

The Hero turns and starts on his way again. He doesn’t need to hear the story— he was there when it happened. He’s sure the teller doesn’t need him sticking around just got put him off in front of his audience.

The Villain would come and find him when he‘s ready.

If he’s ever ready.

[thehero-and-thevillain]

Hi! I’m Teddy, and welcome to my writing blog.

The Hero and the Villain is a series of short stories set in a fantasy world, surrounding the two main characters, Hero and Villain, and their respective groups of friends.

I’m doing this for fun, and if you don’t know me from my other blogs, it’s going to be gay af so I hope you enjoy!

I am well aware I am definitely not the first person to do this, but I love the idea so much, I’ve decided to give it a go myself :)