Draco was finding Bricriu increasingly pensive as the days went by. It was if Bricriu was searching for something, the meaning of life, something had surfaced and was taking up his thought. But then again, his fifteenth birthday was coming up, so it might just be Bricriu being dramatic about it. But still, even Vi’rean noticed something was up-one day during study hall, Vi suddenly said to Draco-“hey-have you noticed that Brick’s been staring at you a lot recently?”

“eh?” Draco had responded, being pulled out of his musings about Bricriu.

“He was staring at you, and he’s been doing that a lot recently”

“oh” said Draco, trying to conceal the wide smile he felt like having.

Okay, so maybe Vi was noticing something else. But no matter- the thing with Bricriu’s birthday is this: one can think of millions of things to get, finding any of them is something close to impossible. So Draco started out with a different approach. Search his attic. Draco’s attic was filled with boxes and trunks, just like any self-respecting old house should. No one would care what was taken, if his father even partially owned the house, the stuff was partially his anyway, and if his dad didn’t, he didn’t see anyone come up here and try to claim any of it. Three hours after he had started, he figured he had opened every box and trunk there, save for one, all of them filled with old dresses or weird candles, and a few journals and odd objects. The last trunk contained even more old dresses- its always old dresses, isn’t it?  It was never anything else, just old dresses. But then he saw one last box, lying forgotten and somewhat opened in the middle of the room. Why hadn’t he seen it before? He went over to it and peered in. It was full of books. Really old books. In the bottom of the box there was a set of around 25 books labeled “Ancient Mythology Of Europe And Asia; Complete Edition.” ‘Score’ though Draco, he had found the birthday present to end all birthday presents. Old books-Bricriu loved them; Mythology- Bricriu loved these even more. Draco picked one of the books up. Vol. 2, Celtic mythology. W00t! yes, Bricriu would be delighted.

            Draco went meandering, partly in search of Bricriu, partly to escape the wrath of his dad, who was currently getting drunk. It was Bricriu’s birthday, so he took along the Celtic mythology book to give Bricriu. Draco couldn’t seem to find Bricriu after a while, and decided to brave home and give it a rest for the day. Unfortunately, Draco’s dad was in the most violent state of drunkenness Draco had ever seen. Draco’s pet ferret lay in a puddle of blood in the corner. Draco knew he should run for it, but instead tried to sneak by his drunken dad and up to his room. He failed, and his dad immediately nailed him in the stomach and started screaming in his satanic rants. ‘Draco,” Draco thought, ‘damnit, you’re 16, punch the bastard back!’ and so Draco tried, managing to get his scrawny arm in contact with his dad before he was sent flying across the room. His dad ran to him, poising like a wolf ready to strike a helpless prey. His dad began to kick him, and managed to kick him in a most unwelcome spot and then in his back and stomach. Draco couldn’t put up with it anymore, so he made himself pass out.

            When he made it back into consciousness, he got up. Or rather, tried to. He failed on his first attempt. He had bruises up and down his body. He gingerly made it to the bathroom and took a bath. The water stung like bees on his fragile and bruised skin, making it nearly impossible to get in. He wept. He wept for his mother. He wept for himself. He wept for his love of Bricriu, wept for his ferret, he wept for everything.

            Draco figured he should walk the fight off no matter how bad the pain was. He took Bricrius’s present, in his green messenger bag he loved and always had, in case they ran into each other. They did. Draco saw Bricriu at the end of a street, and so he mustered his strength and yelled. “YO BRICK!”

“You’re a day off!” Bricriu shouted back.

“Too bad, isn’t it?” Draco said. Bricriu was around, pain wasn’t important. “Bout time you said hi to me- I thought you had forgotten me on your birthday”

“Hey- I was with Vi’rean.”

“birthday se-“ Draco had started to say, but was cut off by a fist to his shoulder. Yet another bruise. “I don’t see how you can act so sweet and innocent and still be so violent.”  Draco had managed to say, although he felt like hurling there in front of Bricriu. But he never liked to show the pain that much, so he kept smiling.

“Practice”

“You’re not making a lot of sense.”

“People tell me that a lot. So you know what? Ill answer any question you ask me with a straightforward answer to be nice.”

“Its your birthday- you get gifts.” Draco protested. The only reason for it was that, honestly, he couldn’t think of anything to ask him.

“I’m being nice. Ask, and Ill answer.”

“ No, its your birthday, so instead, ask me something and Ill answer it plainly. Then you can do the same.”

“deal. So…. what do I ask? I dunno Drac, you kinda wear your heart on your sleeve.” Ha, thought Draco, like he knew. Ok, so maybe he did, but he was an expert at hiding pain. “Hey- why do peoples call you Draco?”

Drac thought about this one. It hadn’t been by plan or anything, just one day had slipped out and it stuck. He thought of an answer to please Bricriu. “I, as you know, am a lover of all things dragon, so when I got tired of my real name, I started calling myself Draco, and people followed suit. I guess it fit me better.”

“So what was your real name?”

“One question, and one question only. So, how’s Vi’rean?”

“Breathing.”

“Tell her I said hi, aight?, oh yeah, your real birthday present…” he said pulling out the old book from his bag, and presenting it to Bricriu.

“Woah…tight. Celtic mythology…” Bricriu said with a cool smile that made Draco unsure of Bricriu’s real reaction to it. As Bricriu opened it up to a well-used page, the glow of awe spread across his face and Draco was positive he had found the right present for the guy. Bricriu’s face eased the pain that was throbbing through his body.

“You like it?”

“I love it…” Bricriu half knowingly replied. “listen to this…” and he started to read a poem about four people who are supposedly to save the world from certain doom. When he finished, Bricriu looked up from his book and said “It says there’s a similar one in Greek mythology and also in Chinese. It’s like it’s true. It might really happen.”

“Cool.’ Said Draco, somewhat paying attention. “Does it say who dies?” he said with a laughing smile.

“No. But it says there’s 27 other volumes of this book.”

“Those are in my room. I figure Ill give you two a year, one for your birthday and one for Christmas, and Ill be set for 14 years.”

“Just get me the Greek one next.”

“I’m kidding- you can have them all now, as long as I can read them.”

********

Authors note: yeah, I know the writing here is kinda bad, but bare with me, it gets better, I promise. I just have to sit down and type it. It’s originally typed on my typewriter. And those books? Pay attention to them.