When you go viral for the second time in Mythica, you'd think it would be for something heroic, like saving a village or taming a phoenix.
But nope, for me, it's because of my so-called "peace treaty" with Sparkles, the unicorn mastermind behind my lunch robbery.
The comments started flooding in. Some praised me for "finally standing up" and called me a hero for "ending the lunchtime terror."
Others, less generous, called me a pushover and asked if my next career move was becoming Mythica's official lunch distributor. One person even claimed someone had tried negotiating with Sparkles before but failed miserably and demanded to know what "magic formula" I used.
Magic formula? I'd call it sheer desperation mixed with the willingness to lose half my lunch. But hey, diplomacy, right?
Eldrin messaged me about the news blowing up. "Congrats, Carl! You're trending again, and this time it's not your face screaming in terror on a buggy."
"Thanks, I guess?" I replied, still unsure if being famous for negotiating with a sparkle was a good thing.
"Seriously, though," Eldrin's next message read, "enjoy your newfound celebrity status. You've got one more week with the baby dragons before you're reassigned."
My stomach dropped. I knew this would happen eventually, but hearing it was different.
The baby dragons—Sweet Tooth, Princess, and Munchie—they'd been a handful, but they'd also become like family to me. The thought of leaving them felt... wrong.
I should have been relieved—finally, no more worrying about getting singed or bitten every time I went into the Dragonling Den.
But instead, I felt this weird ache, like I was about to say goodbye to close friends. Those little troublemakers had grown on me, and I didn't realize just how much until now.
The next day, I went about my usual routine at the Dragonling Den, but there was a weight in my chest that wasn't there before. As I fed Sweet Tooth his breakfast of watermelon, dragonfruits and pineapples (the only thing that didn't result in him biting my fingers), I felt a pang of sadness.
"Should I tell them I'm leaving?"
Princess, as always, was the easiest to manage, dainty and proper, she chomped her meals gracefully. If she could, she'd probably sip tea with her pinky claw up. I scratched her under the chin, and she gave a contented huff.
Playing with the baby dragons and feeding them was one thing, but cleaning up after their 'aftermath'—well, that was a different kind of challenge.
Sweet Tooth, for instance, was a messy little beast. He had a habit of peeing everywhere, and getting the smell out was a nightmare. No amount of scrubbing felt like enough.
Princess, on the other hand, was a breeze. She was so prim and proper that her space was always neat, almost like she was house-trained. Cleaning up after her was quick and easy. Sometimes, I wondered if she was just doing me a favor.
Then came Munchie. Oh, Munchie. The little wyvern was as territorial as ever. Cleaning his "area" was like walking through a minefield, dodging nips and glares. But I knew how to handle him now—bribe him with chocolates and cookies I kept hidden for just these situations.
Munchie was always on high alert, convinced I was trying to invade his privacy whenever I approached.
To avoid his territorial wrath, I resorted to a clever strategy: bribery.
I kept a secret stash of extra chocolates and cookies hidden away, strictly reserved for these delicate negotiations. Whenever it was time to clean his area, I'd offer him these treats as a peace offering.
Surprisingly, he accepted my bribes, allowing me to clean up without risking a claw to the face. It was a small price to pay for a little peace, and I'd like to think it strengthened our bond. Thanks to Munchie's sweet tooth, I managed to navigate the treacherous waters of unicorn lunch theft and avoid starvation. I couldn't have done it without him!
"Munchie, I've got the good stuff today," I said, holding out a cookie. He sniffed the air, his eyes narrowing as he considered whether my peace offering was worth accepting.
Finally, he snatched the treat and retreated, giving me just enough space to clean up his area.
As I scrubbed the floor, I couldn't help but think—would the new caretaker know to bring treats? Would they understand that Munchie's growls weren't always threats but warnings?
That Princess needed her space and that Sweet Tooth's farts meant he liked you?
With my departure from the Dragonling Den looming, I decided to write up a detailed guide for the next caretaker.
The thought of some clueless intern stepping into the chaos I'd become so familiar with didn't sit right with me. I needed to make sure they had every tool at their disposal to care for my babies properly.
I sat back, reading over my notes. Would they even miss me when I was gone?
Sweet Tooth might look for my boots to chew on, and Princess would probably give a disgruntled snort if her bowl wasn't polished, but Munchie... Munchie was the wild card.
On my last day, I decided to give them a special treat.
I gift Sweet tooth glowing dragonfruit, infused with a hint of magic that made them sparkle under the light. I set the fruit down, and Sweet Tooth lunged for it, chomping away happily.
I made Princess wear a huge tiara, which I custom-ordered from the Mythica Props for Magical Creatures store. It was studded with fake diamonds—her favorite kind.
The moment she saw it, she practically glowed with excitement. In fact, she was so thrilled that she gave me a pass on singing her usual lullaby this time. Honestly, that alone made the purchase worth every Mythica points.
When it's time to feed Munchie, I include a huge chocolate fountain on top of the chocolates and cookies. Munchie when he saw the extra treat ... just stared at me.
He knew something was up.
"Hey, buddy," I said, looking back at him. "I'm... leaving. New caretaker's coming in tomorrow." I tried to sound casual, like it was no big deal. "Just wanted to say goodbye properly."
Munchie blinked, then did something I didn't expect—he nudged his piece of cookie toward me. I stared, dumbfounded.
"A gift? From you?" I asked, my voice cracking. "You know, I think I'm gonna miss you most, you little troublemaker."
Munchie made a soft rumbling sound, and for a moment, I could've sworn he was sad too.
As I walked out of the den for the last time, my phone buzzed again. Eldrin's message popped up. "New caretaker starts tomorrow. Ready for your next assignment?"
I took a deep breath. "Yeah," I replied. "I'm ready."
But as I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that the next chapter of my journey was going to be even tougher than dealing with unicorn SWAT teams and baby dragons.
********
A Zoologist's Guide to Cleaning Baby Dragons Den:
1. Sweet Tooth's Mess:
Step 1: Always carry enchanted cleaning rags with you. Sweet Tooth is unpredictable, and you'll need them ready at a moment's notice.
Step 2: Approach the puddles slowly. Sweet Tooth is easily startled, and if he bolts, you'll be chasing him all over the den.
Step 3: Clean up quickly and efficiently. If you dawdle, he might decide to make another mess somewhere else.
2. Princess's Royal Cleanliness:
Step 1: Use brand-new cleaning tools just for her. Princess can sense if a tool has been used, and she prefers everything pristine and untouched.
Step 2: Treat her area like a royal chamber—quick, precise, and neat. She demands efficiency and won't tolerate anything less.
Step 3: Reward her with a gentle pat or compliment afterward. She likes acknowledgment for her cooperation.
3. Munchie's Territorial 'Art':
Step 1: Prepare a stash of chocolates and cookies (hidden from his regular rations). These are your peace offerings.
Step 2: Approach his territory slowly and offer the treat as a bribe. If he accepts, you've got about ten minutes to work before he gets suspicious.
Step 3: Clean quickly and avoid making eye contact. Munchie is territorial and will take any sign of hesitation as an invasion of his space.