Chapter 5: A kind deed returned
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Chapter 5: A kind deed returned

 Beggar knocked on the door. It had taken some asking around, but he had managed to get to the house. The wolf-like dog was still clutched in his hands. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do, if the owner didn't take the dog back. Surely, the person who would offer a fortune for the dog would take the fur ball back? 

After all, Beggar might be unwanted, but the dog was a dog. People liked dog. He knocked again, the biting cold cutting at his injured legs. They were yet to begin to heal, and he was beginning to be worried. Was something in the water too dangerous for him? Like a toxic waste, that would damage him for life?

The door opened, and an elf exited the house. Beggar recognized this elf. This was the kind man who had given him the delicious sandwich on Christmas day!

"Hello, I have your dog right here, sir," Beggar held the dog higher, as the pouch began to wag its tail. 

"Your legs," the man gasped. He placed a hand over Beggar's shoulder, and ushered him in. "You must be treated immediately!" 

Beggar blinked. Him, getting a treatment? He didn't have the money for that. His single silver coin wouldn't be enough, he knew. 

"I don't have money for a treatment," Beggar said, and the elf shook his head. 

"Place Pavel down, and follow me. Just because you are a demon doesn't mean you don't have to think about your health," the man spoke, and Beggar placed the dog down. Pavel, nice name. He wondered if the dog would have responded to it, had he called it. The kind elf didn't so much as spare the dog a glance, as it curled up on a mat, and closed its eyes. 

"The dog is hurt," Beggar spoke. Thinking that the elf didn't know. 

"Look at yourself! You look like you have been skinned alive!" The elf snapped, and then finally spared the dog a glance. "I will treat you first, then I will see to Pavel. Foolish boy, risking your life for a dog!" 

Beggar felt a slight warmth spreading in his chest. Did the man care more about Beggar's life, than the dog's? This was new for the small demon boy. He followed the man to a sterile room, and then sat on a bed, to which the elf pointed. The elf rummaged in a nearby cupboard, and took out a green paste in a jar. 

"Elfide paste. Perfect for getting toxins out of the skins. Now, this will hurt a little, but you have to be brave," the man came to Beggar, and pulled on some clothes. Beggar gritted his teeth, as a burning sensation spread from the spot that the green paste had been placed on. Still, he trusted the elf. "Your regeneration was already trying to fix the damage, but I doubt you would have kept your legs, if you haven't come to me." 

"I would have lost my legs?" Beggar asked. If he had lost his legs, then he would have been a light target for dogs, and people who wanted to do him harm. 

"Yes, you would have lost your legs," the elf confirmed, as he spread the paste over Beggar's legs. The elf murmured an apology, when Beggar hissed after a particularly deep wound was smeared in the paste. Next, the elf took out some bandages, and began to wrap the legs of the small boy. "With your regeneration, you will be fine by tomorrow. I still want to keep you here until then. Just in case you get infected." 

"I get to stay here for the night?" Beggar asked. He sounded hopeful, even to his own ears. A warm place to stay. This was more than a dream to him. 

"Yes, you will stay. Perhaps, I should have picked you off the streets on Christmas day..." Beggar blinked at the shame that colored the elf's face. Was the man feeling bad about leaving Beggar with only a sandwich? Why? Beggar got something warm to eat, and it had been a kind deed. 

"Thank you very much, sir," Beggar bowed his head, and smiled brightly at the elf. 

"What is your name, boy?" The elf asked. Beggar smiled brighter. 

"Beggar," the boy exclaimed, and the elf sucked in a breath. 

"Your parents must have given you a name?" The elf asked, but Beggar just shook his head. 

"Never knew them. There was Beth, I called her mother once, but she was not. She called me munchkin. Everyone else calls me Beggar," Beggar clarified, and tilted his head to the sorrowful expression the elf was giving him. 

"A brave boy like you needs a name," the elf spoke, determination clear in his eyes. "How about Darius? It means gift." 

"I get a fancy name? But, don't only children with parents deserve such names?" Beggar asked, and the elf shook his head. 

"Everyone deserves a name. You most of all. Darius would suit you. My name is Andiel. If you would like, you may live with me from now on," the elf suggested, and Beggar's eyes threatened to bug out of his sockets. 

"Really? Just because I got your dog back?" Beggar asked, and Andiel just shook his head. 

"Because you remind me of myself," the elf said, and looked down at his glove covered hands. "I used to be an orphan too, once. Yet, a kind old lady took me in. She is long dead now, still, I feel like she would have rolled in her grave, if she found out I left you on the streets on that Christmas day."

"If you are to be my father, then I will be the happiest boy in the world. I can lift heavy things, clean, and..." Beggar began to list, but the man just shook his head. 

"You will do none of those things," Andiel said, as he took off his gloves. Placing a fatherly hand on the young demon's shoulder, he looked into the child's eyes. "What do you want to be, when you grow up?"

Beggar felt like this was an important question. One that he couldn't get wrong, but his life from now on would depend on the answer. 

"A bounty hunter," Beggar said, and then looked up into his new father's eyes with a big smile. "One that saves lost things!"

"A hero, then," Andiel said, and hugged his new son. 

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