Truth or Dare

"Boris!" Damascus scowled at his brother disapprovingly. "You didn't have to be so mean to Edward. That doesn't make me feel any better- or him."

Turning on his heel, he quickly went over to sit by Edward, barely resisting the urge to give him a reassuring hug.

"You didn't hurt my feelings, really." He said gently. "And it's okay to be scared of me- I know I'm scary."

With a smile, he carefully held out his hand, as if asking permission to hold Edward's. "It makes me happy that you know how scary I am and want to be my brother anyway."

James had watched in silence when Damascus came into full view in his true form.

From what he could see, Damascus looked pretty cool - admittedly a little like a goblin, but far less scary since he knew Damascus wasn't out to get him or anything. He understood why Edward might be scared since Damascus probably looked unfamiliar, but Damascus seemed to be very understanding, even if Boris was being mean about it.

At Boris's last comment, James sent Boris a sharp look.

"Edward apologized, and Damascus forgave him. Be nice," he scolded in a whisper.

Edward hesitantly grabbed onto the hand extended to him. "I'm just not...I'm just not used to things like this," he said. "I'm used to people looking like me, and I'm used to the only magic I know being magic tricks. But...But I'm not really scared of you. I'm just a little bit startled. And I'm trying my best to not be frightened - I really am - but my brain and my body aren't agreeing."

He heard someone else approach the two of them, their footsteps light as they suddenly popped their head in between the two. It was Schadel again, though she had taken on the form of the teenage girl she had been using earlier. "Adam screamed when he first saw what I looked like," she informed him. "And he was a soldier, so he was used to weird and scary things!"

Damascus dipped his head into a nod, his eyes gentle as he squeezed Edward's hand. He jumped a little as Schadel joined them, but scooted over to make room.

"Well, this is only my first time in Prussia," he smiled. "And I already know that you have given me more of a chance than most other humans would. So, thank you."

Though he felt comfortable in his own form, and the others didn't seem to mind terribly now, Schadel had shifted again, and he didn't want to be the only one who looked different. With a squint of concentration, he morphed back into the form he had been using before.

He turned to look at Schadel. "What's a 'soldier'? And why are they used to weird and scary things?"

"Soldiers are people who fight," Engel explained. "Usually they fight for a group, like their country or something."

Schadel nodded. "Uh-huh! Blanx says that soldiers can be a bit annoying sometimes because they're always dying, but he's a bit of a hypocrite. Rekune says he served in the Revolutionary War and then the Civil War right after that, 'cause that's where they first met. Rekune tried reaping his soul when he was playing dead and couldn't." She thought for a moment, then frowned as she slipped into the space between Damascus and Edward. "Maybe it wasn't right after the Revolutionary War. I think there was a lot of years in between."

Edward stared. "He's been around since the Revolutionary War?" he asked, incredulous. Schadel gave an earnest nod. "But that was more than a century ago!"

Schadel nodded again. "Yup! He's old. Not super old, but definitely old. And he runs an antique shop, which makes him automatically even older." When she noticed Edward staring at her, the frown return and she looked a little nervous. "What's wrong?"

"Schadel, how old are you?"

It took a few moments to do the math, but she finally got a handle on it. "I'm eleven years old!" she replied, grinning proudly as she held out ten fingers. "I was born on September 6th, 1914, right during the first battle of the Great War. Because I'm the Great War's reaper, even though I was too little to really do anything to help."

James had to admit, all the talk about wars was very confusing. He hadn't heard of any of those wars. The only wars he knew of were the goblin wars, and that had been going on as long as he could remember. But as soon as age came up, that seemed like something he could participate in.

"I'm seven!" he added enthusiastically. "My birthday is November 27!"

"I'm twelve!" Engel declared proudly, discovering that he was the eldest of those who had stated their ages so far.

Damascus brightened as the thoughts of death left him and the others were throwing out ages.

"Hey! I'm eleven too, Schadel!" He beamed. "Except... I don't have a birthday. At least, I don't think I do."

It hadn't occured to Boris that Damascus wouldn't want to be defended in such a way, or that he had never needed defending in the first place. Maybe it would have occured to him, if he'd just taken a moment to think.

Boris shrank back from Damascus and James' admonishments, and let other conversations play out. Hopefully they'd forget. They wouldn't. But he could stand back, and pretend.

There it was, that familiar jab of guilt, the one he recognized, but never knew what to do with.

He knew he felt guilty, but what exactly was it for?
Did he really feel bad about hurting Edward, or was it only because he had been called out on it?

No, of course he cared about Edward! Edward was a brother. Of course he cared. And he'd apologise, when he worked up the courage. Later. He'd try.

I'm eight, he replied, in his head. It wasn't time to rejoin the conversation just yet.

Edward looked over at Engel. "I'm also twelve," he said, holding William tightly in one hand. He knew exactly what this realization meant: the two of them were the oldest ones there, and therefore needed to decide which one of them was the absolute oldest.

(Boris still hadn't replied, but he looked like he was younger than them.)

Schadel, meanwhile, had lit up the moment Damascus said how old he was, then frowned moments later when he said he didn't have a birthday. She crossed her arms. After several moments of being deep in thought, she eagerly suggested, "Then let's make today your birthday, Damascus!"

Damascus smiled brightly, his eyes shining. He wasn't sure exactly what a Birthday signified, but was estatic to have one.

"Wonderful! Yes!" He clapped once, and then thought for a moment. "What numbers go with today, then? I want to remember them."

"I was born in December of 1847," Engel declared, looking straight at Edward. One of the two of them had to be older - but which one?

Schadel thought for a moment.

"I think it's....hmmm....I think it's March 20th!" she informed Damascus, grinning from ear to ear as she waited for him to reply.

Meanwhile, Edward was about to answer with his own birthday, only to stop when the year finally registered - his jaw immediately dropped, and he stared at Engel with increasingly wide eyes. "You were born in 1847?" he asked. Then Schadel's original comment registered, and he wildly spun around to stare at her. "You were born in 1914?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh!"

"But you can't be that little if you were!" he protested. "I was born in 1922, and I'm supposed to be older than you!"

He crossed his arms, William still held tight in one hand, and thought over the math. "Since it's 1934, then Schadel should be 20, and Engel should be...87!?"

"I'm not 87!" Engel protested. "I'm 12! But that does make me the oldest one - right?"