Ethan & Jag Destroy the World

by Maz Maddox

What does a warrior do if there are no wars to fight? Maybe he needed a pet. A plated grizzly could be entertaining, or perhaps a feral goblin or a cat. All viable options.

Ethan smiled, the action causing a glow to radiate from its entire being. The flush of pink against its cheeks made its eyes bright, and Jag felt his heart thump against his chest. The human had gone from being a wormy ape to a ray of sunshine in an instant.

In the handful of hours watching movies in Ethan’s absence, Jag was able to learn a couple of things about Christmas. One, humans had a tendency to haul large trees into their homes and throw lights on them. This was never explained. Two, Santa is worshiped and given offerings of cookies in exchange for gifts. It was unclear what happens if cookies aren’t left, but there had been mention of coal. From what Jag could infer, Santa turned children into coal for misbehaving. No longer in danger of Santa’s wrath, the parents often teased the children about their possible fate. Three, people gathered around the light trees and opened gifts, which seemed to solve most of the problems they were having. Santa was truly a generous deity when his anger was sated. Four, humans were not scared of snow, and they should be.

“So, Jag,” Olivia sang. “What do you do for a living?” Jag paused mid-drink. This had not been discussed previously. He most definitely could not tell a house full of humans that he was a demon warrior whose clan had plans to conquer Earth and enslave all of humanity. It would likely not go over well.

“A demon doesn’t have room for nice in his life, Sami. I’m a Hell warrior charged with fighting for the right to rule over the human realm. What in Satan’s name would I do with nice?”

Human holidays, Jag had decided, were mostly an excuse to eat and drink and forget about life for a while. It wasn’t grand or a testament to their might or fighting abilities like the festivities back home. But it was nice. Mainly because Ethan liked them. And Jag liked Ethan.

“Are you two engaged?” The question made Ethan groan in agony. “Engaged in what?” Jag asked, growing more confused. “I take that as a no.” Olivia drummed her fingers on the table. “Having a baby?” The question nearly slapped Ethan out of his chair. “What?” Jag snapped his eyes to Ethan. “You told me you can’t get pregnant.” “Oh my God.” Ethan sank lower on the table. Jag leaned over to Ethan, his whispering skills beyond terrible. “Ethan, do human ribs retract? Because we are birthed through the torso, and I’m concerned for your narrow frame.”

Jag wasn’t used to feeling helpless. It wasn’t an emotion he liked, so much so that it made him physically cringe. Most of his problems throughout his life could be solved with killing something and calling it a day.