The sun had barely risen, but Percy was already grumbling. His usual nap schedule had been ruined again — and this time, he suspected foul play.
He rubbed his eyes, the remnants of sleep clinging stubbornly, when suddenly a tiny shadow darted past his boot.
Percy squinted. "Not again… What in the seven-star magic is that?"
From the corner of the tavern's storeroom emerged a creature no taller than a thumb: a mouse. But this was no ordinary mouse. This one wore a tiny silver crown fashioned from a bottle cap and wielded a thimble as a shield.
"Bow before Drake, Lord of Mouse!" the little warrior squeaked, brandishing his thimble shield and a thin twig spear.
Percy raised an eyebrow, utterly unamused. "A mouse? You want to fight me? You must be crazy."
Drake puffed up his chest. "I may be small, but my kingdom spans the shadows beneath your feet! And you, sir, have disturbed my nap sanctum!"
Percy yawned and stretched. "Well, Drake, you're about to lose your kingdom."
The battle was anything but ordinary.
Drake charged, using his speed and size to his advantage, climbing Percy's leg and diving between his boots. Percy flailed, trying to catch the tiny lord, but his reflexes were slowed by sleep.
"Stop tickling me!" Percy groaned as Drake's whiskers brushed his ankle.
The mouse darted up to Percy's shoulder, perched there like a furry general. "Surrender now, or face the wrath of the mouse kingdom!"
Percy smirked and conjured a tiny illusion: dozens of giant cheese wheels rolling toward the mouse lord.
Drake squeaked in terror and scurried away, but soon regrouped with his army of mice — small shadows emerging from every corner, ready to defend their lord.
"Retreat? Never!" Drake shouted.
What followed was a hilarious chase through the tavern, with Percy stumbling over chairs and knocking over mugs, and Drake commanding his troops from atop a rolling flour sack.
Eventually, Percy caught Drake under a glass jar, the tiny crown askew but the mouse still defiant.
"Okay, okay," Percy chuckled. "Truce?"
Drake twitched his nose. "Only if you promise to protect our tunnels from those blasted cats."
Percy laughed and released the mouse, who quickly vanished with a respectful nod.
From that day on, Percy always kept a small piece of cheese in his pocket — just in case his tiny lord ever called upon him again.