Chapter 76 - Journey to Dublin II (Patreon)
Content
Felix had never thought people could move as fast as the Praetorians did. One moment they were all walking along, the next Walker was halfway to the undead bison with a flaming sword held over his head, while a wall of hundreds of tiny hexagons surrounded the rest of them. The corgi blitzed the ankles of the bison, and the gem-studded turtle started to hover in the air, its head to the sky as its body acted like a small shield in front of the party. Jones held out his wand and started chanting.
“I beseech you Surtur! Spark to blaze, let heat be law, let ash be crown! Burn the skies and smite my foes! KENAZ!”
An ungodly amount of fire erupted from Jones’s wand. The tiny hexagon shields parted around the torrent of flame, and the bison went up like sun-dried wheat. Walker hit the flaming beasts a moment later, swinging the burning greatsword around like it weighed nothing.
Felix found himself clutching Sora.
“Easy there OUCH! Bloody hell, Felix, down.” Sora grimaced as she slowly pried Felix’s fingers out from where they’d dug into her side.
“Uh? Whoops, sorry.” Felix quickly let go and danced back, still staying within the hexagons.
“Stay inside.” Jones said, then headed out. The shimmering, spinning hexagons parted to let him through, then went back to dancing around the pair. The silver tortoise and corgi started to patrol around, keeping an eye on the Praetorian’s backs. The two Praetorians met up and started to tersely talk in dense jargon. He gestured to the spinning hexagons.
“What spell is that?” He asked.
Sora shook her head.
“I don’t think that’s a spell. Hey, Jones!” She called out. “Is this your soulbind?”
“Yes.” He called back, continuing to look at the fried bison. Walker started slicing the bodies up with his flaming sword, and the two of them extracted three murky cores from the depths of the bodies.
“Corrupted cores, ew.” Sora pulled a face.
Felix didn’t need a textbook to surmise being undead did something to the magical properties of a core. He’d even seen a few, here and there, clearly marked with various degrees of corruption. Clearly, they were still usable, just… worse. The two Praetorians stuck the cores into their massively-expanded bags, and hustled back over.
“You’re all worried about covens this year.” Walker growled out. “You think it’s bad now? Ha! Just wait until you’re in your fourth year and worrying about soulbindings. That one will last you forever.”
He looked melancholy for a moment, and with a swish, his flaming sword disappeared.
“I’m going to give you the advice I got at your age, utterly ignored, and regretted.” He said with a sigh. “Think about what you’re going to do with your Soulbind. Jones picked something smart. Can’t go wrong with shields. A flaming sword though? I thought it was the coolest thing ever at 17. It’s also the dumbest thing. It’s only good up close and personal in a fight. Pick something practical. Something you’ll use every day. Now, start walking, travel time only counts when we’re moving.” Walker said.
With a start, Felix started walking again, his luggage floating along behind him. He was left with some thoughts, but one dominated more than the rest.
A flaming sword WOULD be really cool…
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The rest of the trip went by without further major incident. It was perilous, but it wasn’t dangerous like the bison had been. It didn’t mean the Praetorians weren’t casting spells every ten minutes or so, but most creatures and insects seemed to take the hint. The utter lack of people was explained by the place being a liminal space between where they’d left Arcadia, and Avalon proper.
Thunderbirds soared ahead of a stormfront, and Sora followed them with rapt eyes. The chill aura of wendigos reminded Felix what it felt like to starve. Above all, the terrain kept shifting on them, like they were running across the entire country in just a few hours. Throughout it all, Sora kept running around, like she was a boundless font of energy.
Felix chatted some of the time, and was lost in thought at others. Primarily, on the topic of how dangerous Arcadia - and whatever in-between realm they were in - was, and just how effective fire seemed to be at handling all the problems.
Well, probably not all of them… but a significant number of problems did seem to be solved with flames. Mastering that field resulted in being able to handle most threats, except whatever magical nonsense could utterly ignore fire. Something to talk with Paracelsus about, for sure. He hadn’t let Felix down yet, and would be able to help him.
The mountains turned to forests, and the hairs on Felix’s neck prickled when he heard the howling of wolves. The two Praetorians relaxed and grinned, slapping each other’s backs.
“The wolves are… good?” Felix ventured.
“Heck yeah!” Jones said. “They’re the Thalorian dire wolves. We’re in the Hollow Forest now, they’ll help escort us to safety.”
“Woe betide anything hostile that tries to get to Avalon by land.” Walker commented. “The wolves will tear them apart. By sea and underground have their own issue, but the forest’s safe enough.”
“Oh, don’t tell them that.” Jones said. “They’ll get entirely the wrong idea. The forest is not safe for students to idly wander through. The minotaurs and harpies might be nice, but they also know nobody will look too closely if a student simply vanishes near their territory.”
“The sentient mice colony.” Walker said.
Jones snorted and rolled his eyes.
“That’s a myth. They don’t exist.” He said.
“They do!” Walker said. “I swear, there’s a magic that’ll make anyone hearing about them disbelieve they exist! I’ve met them!”
“Walker, you told me you were drunk as a skunk when you met them.” Jones said.
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t make it any less true!” Walker said. The two red-cloaked Praetorians suddenly remembered there were two students with them.
Felix eyed Walker doubtfully. He didn’t know much about magic, but a sentient mouse colony? That could influence people just by hearing about them? That couldn’t possibly be real. Or… maybe it was?
Both Sora and Jones seemed to disbelieve Walker though, and it had Felix doubting. Were they right and Walker had just been drunk? Or was there actually magic at work?
But if there was magic making them disbelieve, why wasn’t he automatically disbelieving it as well? Unless, of course, magic was making him go through this particular thought process, and resulting in him ‘logically’ disbelieving it…
Either way, an entire civilization of mice seemed unlikely, but Felix would be willing to change his mind if he ever met them. At the same time, Sora’s fanatical approach to mind magic classes and building her mental defenses made a lot more sense. How could Felix be sure he was Felix, if a mage could be subtly changing his thoughts and mind?
The whole thing was a giant mind-fuck, pun intended.
Felix was so busy ruminating that he barely noticed entering Avalon proper, nor the trip up to Camelot. He only snapped out of everything once he was at the bridge. Syr Gorram, the troll, lazily waved them across.
“Morning.” The troll yawned, still audible through his metal shell. “Back already?” He asked.
“Morning Gorram.” Jones smiled and waved, never pausing.
Felix had felt a number of warm tingles when he returned back to his ratty trailer back home in Sacramento. To his surprise, he was feeling them again. Only a few months, and the place had already wormed its way into his heart.
“Race you to the dining hall!” Sora shouted, before sprinting down the corridors.
Felix rolled his eyes. The girl couldn’t sit still to save her life, or properly plan.
He happily walked along the stone hallways, aware of how empty the place was. With virtually every student gone for the holidays, along with most of the staff, the place was like a graveyard. The expected sounds of laughter and spells were completely absent, replaced instead by a foreboding silence.
Everyone in Dragon house had headed home, and Felix was alone as he significantly unburdened his bags, before heading down to the dining hall. Sora had already demolished a large plate of eggs and sausages before he sat down, and was making her way through a stack of pancakes.
Seven hours of walking would make anyone hungry.
“What, did you get lost or something?” She asked as Felix sat down. “I thought you’d been here long enough to know where the dining hall was. If you need help, just ask me next time.” She stuffed her face with more pancakes, maple syrup dripping down her chin.
Felix just rolled his eyes.
“Broombrain.” He said, affectionately bumping her with his hip.
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The four of them spent nearly an entire day at Camelot, resting, taking a break from their trip, adjusting to the new timezone again - right after adjusting to California’s, Felix suspected this was going to be the story of his life - and left for Dublin bright and early the next morning.
Why Sora couldn’t have just stuck around in Camelot and joined them now, instead of going to Sacramento first, Felix could only guess at. Most likely a thin excuse to visit the noonie world.
The trip to Dublin was just as magical as the trip to Avalon, but with wildly different flora and fauna. Will-o-wisps danced off in the distance, things that were not horses brayed and pranced, and one unfortunate zombie had gotten stuck by a tree falling over.
Felix’s overall impression was green, and he could see why the place was ‘The Emerald Isle’. The swamps were green. The hills were green. The moss, shamrocks, and trees were all green. Green - and wet.
Fire was, once again, the answer to all their problems, and the Praetorians moved through the terrain like deadly land sharks. Felix wasn’t too surprised - this was supposed to be their home field - and the trip felt much shorter this time round, with no sudden major terrain shifts, like there had been traversing the United States.
Feeling short or not, seven hours of walking was seven hours of walking, and he was ready to be done by the time a device in Walker’s pocket buzzed.