Bune returned, a towering stack of books held in one pair of hands, and a fresh sheet of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell in the other. "Just a few basics today, Avatar," the butler said as the heavy stack of books landed on the desk with a deafening thump. "I don't want to overwhelm you on your first day."
Zac rolled his eyes and took the parchment and ink. "Lecture away, Bune. I am one hundred percent not going to listen to a single word you say."
"What?" Bune sputtered, seeming to read his expression. "But you must study! It is vital for your role as a spy in the Holy City! If you are caught, you might be questioned, or worse, inquisitioned!"
Zac looked up at the desperate dragon-professor and gave him his most earnest, convincing smile. "Yeah, I'll totally listen. You got it. I'm all ears."
Bune beamed, both heads nodding in satisfaction.
The lecture began. "Now, a foundational moment in celestial-infernal relations," the Left Head began, pacing back and forth. "The First Schism. It began as a minor skirmish between the Dominus Angels and Lord Belial over the final bag of divine fertilizer meant for the Tree of Knowledge. You see, it was a very messy breakup… and they began to fight over the smallest things…"
Zac tuned him out completely. He had never used a quill before and found it surprisingly tricky to get used to. He'd drawn a lot in school (how else was he supposed to pass the time without a phone?) so he was curious to try the new medium. The ink was thick and black. He dipped the quill, trying to get the feel of it.
"…but that is why, to this day," Bune's Right Head droned on, "we will not give an inch, not even on the most trivial of territorial disputes. It is the principle of the matter!"
Zac looked down at his parchment. It was a mess. The quill kept blotting, leaving thick, uncontrolled pools of ink. But through the mess, a figure was beginning to take shape. A very blotchy, but undeniably powerful, drawing of Marchosias ripping his tunic open, throwing his head back, and howling at the moon.
'So bad-ass,' Zac thought, a satisfied smile on his face as he added a few more lines to define the Captain's impressive abs. This was a much better use of his time.
After another hour of droning history, Zac was bored out of his mind. The idea of the entire eternal war being a cosmic, never-ending messy breakup between God and Lucifer was kind of interesting, sure. But then Bune described Lucifer.
"…and he was the most beautiful of all creations," the Right Head sighed romantically. "Blond hair like spun gold, eyes like the morning star, perfectly proportional, with soft, unmarred skin and the voice of an angel…"
All Zac heard was: 'Twink.'
Zac didn't have twinkphobia… he just had a severe, incurable case of daddyphilia. The moment Lucifer was described as a hairless pretty-boy, Zac's interest in the entire war plummeted to zero. He was just about to ask if God was the sexy, bearded silver-fox in this cosmic divorce, when a clawed hand reached out and plucked the parchment from his desk.
Zac yelped, reaching out in a panic. "Hey! Those are my notes! Give them back! They're in… code! A secret human spy code! You wouldn't understand!"
He nearly fell out of his chair as Bune held the drawing at arm's length, both heads tilting as they examined the blotchy ink. Zac watched, horrified, as the dragon took in his masterful depiction of Marchosias wolfing out, complete with heroic abs and a dramatic howl.
A slow smile spread across the Left Head's face. "I did not know you were an artist, Avatar."
"It's from a movie!" Zac shouted, his face turning beet red. "A human movie! I didn't even like Zootopia! It had weird political undertones!" He stopped, registering what the dragon had just said. "Wait, artist? Me? I mean… yes. Yes, I am. A visionary."
"Oh, you have captured Goremaw's carnivorous rage quite nicely," Bune's Right Head mused, twisting the parchment this way and that, trying to make sense of the erratic, blotchy line work. "The bared teeth, the powerful chest… a striking likeness. Though I believe you've made him a bit too… lean."
Zac stared. "Goremaw? The warg? That's not… that's supposed to be-"
"A fine first attempt," the Left Head said encouragingly, handing the drawing back. "Perhaps with practice, you could be the warband's official portrait artist. A noble calling."
Zac took the parchment, looking down at his drawing of a shirtless, howling Marchosias. He had poured his heart, his soul, and his libido onto this page.
And Bune thought it was a picture of the dog.
Zac slowly flipped the drawing over, hiding the image of the misidentified Wolf Daddy. "So, God's mad because Lucifer gave his adopted kids some Adderall, and now everyone has to die forever," he summarized flatly. "Got it." He looked up at Bune, his eyes pleading. "Are the lessons over now?"
Bune chuckled, a dry, rustling sound. "God did not 'adopt,' as that would imply Adam and Eve had parents who gave them up. It is more correct to call them God's 'gooey clay babies.' Or, at least, that is what you should call Adam. I suppose Eve is a 'rib baby.'"
Zac nodded slowly. "Okay. Cool. Are we done?"
"No, silly," Bune chuckled, both heads shaking. "We haven't even begun to talk about the petty back-and-forth throughout the breakup. God and Lucifer just kept escalating. It was a mess. God even killed Lucifer's pet."
Zac's blood pressure skyrocketed. "WHAT?!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "NOT THE PET! WHAT THE FUCK, GOD?! That's the one line you don't cross! Ever!"
Bune agreed passionately, a rare moment of perfect, unified emotion between his heads. "Draco was a wonderful feral!" the Left Head lamented. "Such a treat to host. He never blew noxious gas in the castle, and he always loved having that soft scale on his belly rubbed."
The Right Head sniffed, a small puff of mournful smoke escaping its nostrils. "I knew we should have suggested a scale splice when he was molting..."
"God had Lucifer's dragon killed?" Zac whispered, the pieces falling into place with a horrifying click. "So… you're saying there are no dragons on Earth because of God?"
Bune picked up another heavy book from the stack. "Yes," he said grimly. "That is exactly what I am saying."
"But… but… but…" Zac stammered, his mind reeling with the implications. "If there were dragons… one of them totally could have kidnapped me! Taken me back to their lair! Made me their hoard-bride!"
"And they would have, too," Bune said, clenching a fist. "A dragon cannot resist a virgin. It is biological. An imperative."
"Aahh!" Zac gasped, clutching his chest as if he'd been shot. "You mean… God cock-blocked me?! He cock-blocked me from getting turned into a dragon's damsel in distress?!"
Bune looked at Zac, his four golden eyes filled with a grave and terrible understanding. "Do you see now, Avatar? Do you see why we cannot allow Heaven to win this war?"
Zac's resolve hardened. His earlier boredom, his frustration, his selfish desires… they all coalesced into a single, burning point of righteous fury. His eyes blazed with a newfound, holy (or unholy) determination.
"I get it now," he said, his voice low and full of venom. "Those bitches are going down."