Chapter 26 - The Feast I

Who’s who

Felix Sutter: Poor boy living in Sacramento, recently found out magic existed. Hard worker, knows the price of everything.

Leona Thorne: 5th year Commander of Dragon house. Long black hair, casually throws around huge amounts of magical power.

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Entry X – Of the Rising and the First Assault

A week passed. Then a scream.

One corpse, then dozens, then hundreds. The dead rose. Not in soul, but in shadow. Puppets of a death-magic unintended and unbound.

By the month’s end, every form of life that once drew breath was walking again - mockeries of flesh and sinew. Insects clawed across windows. Crows with milky eyes circled above. The deeps boiled with unliving whales.

The world became a battlefield of the dead.

And the dead hunted. Wixen. Magical beasts. Spirits. They knew no loyalty, only hunger.

Chronicles of the Sundering: A Personal Record by Mine Own Hand by Archmage Elowen Thorne, Keeper of the Black Flame, Scribe of the Meridian Vaults

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The Great Hall at Camelot was only used for special occasions. Most major holidays had the students away at home to celebrate, and so it was only used during Sorting, Graduation, and a few other major events.

A keen eye would note its shape was perfect for a large, round table to sit in the middle. The tides of history and the needs of the current day inhabitants had the table shuffled off. 

Prancing unicorns were on banners hung around the hall, and six great tables sat in rows. One for each house, and with Unicorn and Dragon house each being so small, they shared one table.

Three rows of high tables were needed to seat all the professors, and above them all was the throne. The throne of the Once and Future King, the throne where Arthur sat and passed judgment if needed.

The Crowned Sword of Camelot, the Sword of Everlasting Hope, the Greatest Sword in Creation rested in its dragon sheath across the seat of the throne. Excalibur was there, guarding a simple gold band that had been Arthur’s crown. Caliburn, shattered and reforged, leaned up against the throne, as did Rhongomynyad and Wynebywrthucher.

Sitting like a footstool was a great anvil, with words in surprisingly modern English.

Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England.

A plain wooden cup was on one of the throne’s armrests. Nobody was quite sure if it was the holy grail, or just a cup someone had absent-mindedly put down, and everyone was too afraid to touch it.

Reverence kept nearly every student from touching any of the divine artifacts on display. The few pranksters or arrogant fools who thought they could grab any of the holy relics were quickly taught otherwise.

As it was the Sorting, there were wide-ranging cheers from nearly everyone as new students quickly filed out of the Sorting chamber. If they didn’t like the first student who came out, they’d certainly cheer for the second, and every few seconds a new student came out of each door.

Felix was frankly overwhelmed by it all, and was focusing far more on the three dozen incredulous gazes focusing on him.

“H-hi?” He stammered out.

“Come on, budge over, give the poor kid a seat.” One of the boys said, shuffling over. A few more members shifted around, and a spot opened up on the bench. The boy patted it.

“Come on over, sit down, we don’t bite! Commander Thorne will get this all settled one way or another.” He said.

Nearly everyone muttered in agreement, nodding their heads.

“Thanks.” Felix said, sitting down. The girl next to him put her chin in her hand.

“Alright new kid, story time! Who are you, and what happened in there?” 

“I’m Felix Sutter.” Felix answered. “And, uh. None of the other doors opened, and I didn’t want to get expelled, so I ran for the dragon door. The Unicorn girl turned the flames off right before… holy shit I almost died.” Now that the looming prospect of crushing financial debt had vanished, Felix’s close brush with death was suddenly reframed. He started to breathe heavily.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re here, you’re safe.” The girl pounded his back.

“Definitely not Kraken material.” One of the other house members muttered from nearby, to peals of good-natured laughter.

“Mau. Christopher Mau.” The boy said, offering his hand. “You might have heard of me.” He smiled.

Felix took the offered hand, distracted from his impending panic attack.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so?” He said.

Leona swept back a moment later.

“Cadre, with me.” She said, and swept right back to the end of the great table. Four of the oldest students stood up and followed her. The five of them were wrapped up in crows and darkness a moment later.

“Brynwell, Beatrix.” The girl didn’t offer her hand. “Mau over here gets into the most insane trouble every year, and somehow gets out of it. Last year he ended up in an elaborate death trap, which isn’t that unusual.”

What. ‘Stuck in an elaborate death trap’ and ‘not that unusual’ was making Felix think Paracelsus had severely misstated how dangerous things were.

“What was unusual was the divination aspects. Every mirror and window in Camelot started to broadcast his adventure. I swear, you’ve got nine lives.” She said.

Chris preened.

“I do have a black cat core, and it’s probably a noblecore.” He bragged. “I’m descended from the Blackwoods. Nine lives is entirely possible. What do you have?” He asked Felix.

“Err. I don’t know?” He said. “Are you nobility or something?”

Chris waved that question off.

“Nah. My great-great-something ancestor was, but you know how it is. Too many kids, only one seat, half of them get a bag of gold, a firm handshake, and told ‘good luck’. One of my ancestors got the bag of gold and the good luck handshake, and here I am, just a normal pleb with a slightly lucky core. Speaking of lucky cores! Any other wildly lucky coincidences?” Chris asked. 

“I mean, he looks like he came from the mundane world without any idea of what magic is.” Beatrix evaluated with a critical eye.

Chris whistled.

“Yeah. From unknown to Camelot? That’s a huge stroke of luck. Not getting burnt alive? I’ll call that two. One more, and I’ll think you’ve got a luck-based core, like me!” Chris said.

At that moment an elderly man stood up from the middle of the top table. His plate was the only one with food on it, just simple bread. His salt and pepper beard was neatly trimmed, and he radiated a stern presence.

“Welcome one and all! Welcome to the new students, who are here for the first time, where everything is fresh and different. Welcome to the old students, who are here for the last time. Before we begin the feast, I would like to offer a small prayer.”

He picked up his wine cup, and his voice took on a far deeper tone, effortlessly carrying through the Great Hall.

“We thank Dagda, and his gift of wisdom. We thank Rhiannon, for her gift of prophecy and sovereignty. We thank Freyja, and her gift of love and beauty. We thank Isis, for her gift of healing. We thank Hecate, for her gift of witchcraft. Above all, we thank these gods, one and all, for their gift of magic to us. The thread of wonder spun through all things, the silent song humming beneath the skin of the world. The power which awakens, transforms, and reveals. Without your grace, we would be blind in a world of light. Without your touch, we would be deaf in a world of sound. It is through your blessing that we see the unseen, know the unknowable, and shape that which was once unshaped.

To you, we offer bread from our table, salt from our hands, and wine from our cups.

Watch over us, O great ones. Guide our hands, our heart, and our craft. May your names be ever on our lips, and your magic ever in our bones.”

Felix was frozen. The air thrummed with energy, and was so thick he couldn’t move. The entire moment felt like it was crystalized, with the attention of the whole world on the headmaster.

He poured the wine out, and not a drop hit the table. It spread out throughout the Great Hall, a thousand tiny drops spread out among the students. Then, one by one, the drops started to slowly disappear. The headmaster then picked up his loaf of bread and shredded it. The crumbs flew around the room in a vortex, then vanished into nothing. Salt was shaken out, and shared the same fate as the rest of the offerings.

Felix’s hair was in a halo around him, like a strong wave of static electricity had passed over him. He wasn’t the only one subjected to such a fate. He got a glimpse of one of the students getting up and leaving already, and was a little surprised to recognize Hazel openly bailing on the feast before it had even begun.

He hoped she wouldn’t go hungry, the feeling was terrible.

“And now, let the feast begin!” Headmaster Thalorien gestured, and the tables were filled with food. A number Felix recognized and half expected. Salads, green beans, roasts, bread, butter, and more. It was comforting, in a way, to see so many staples. Lettuce was around $1.50 a head. Dressing was pennies, if done properly. Tomatoes were $0.99 a pound. 

The bigger surprise was the number of Indian dishes. Curries, chicken tikka masala, bowls of rice, samosas and more!

Felix suddenly realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and that his in-boat snack had been in his luggage. He attacked the food with the fervor of a starving man, heaping rice, green beans, and tandoori chicken on his plate to start.

He had a million questions about what had just happened - fucking gods!? - but food was a more pressing concern.

“Whoa, slow down, it’s not going anywhere.” Chris said, grabbing a pinch of salt and throwing it over one shoulder. The action was repeated by almost everyone at the table. Less than a penny per throw.

“It came from nothing, it might vanish to nothing.” Felix muttered around a mouthful of food. He spotted Leona walking up to the high table, and having a word with one of the professors. He imagined he was the topic of conversation, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“It’s likely we’ll only have some of this food this year though.” Beatrix was examining the paneer like it was going to bite her.

Felix chewed, swallowed, then asked his question. “Why’s that?” He took another big mouthful while he let Beatrix talk.

“Unicorn house won the point contest last year.” She explained, having decided to stick to more English dishes. “Part of the reward is the decoration. We’ll spend the entire year getting reminded they won. Another part is the menu. They got together, and decided this year would have an Indian cuisine aspect, and here we are.”

“Yeah, it’s not a meaningless contest.” Chris explained. “Okay, maybe for the 8th years, but they’re generally too busy with their Crucible exams to care.”

“How did they win?” Felix asked. “There’s what, twenty of them in total, and the houses have over a hundred? How does that work, they each scored five times as many points?”

Beatrix wobbled her hand.

“Lots of different things. The biggest aspect, which Commander Thorne mentioned during her speech, is we care. Everyone here are the people who actually work hard, and want to see their efforts get rewarded. How many kids do you know that just drift through their work? They do what’s needed, and that’s it? They don’t bother studying lots, they put one stab at their homework and don’t bother editing their essays, and are allergic to the idea of going the extra mile?”

Felix thought about James taking the ‘easy way out’ and grimaced.

“Yeah, I can think of a few.” He said.

“Exactly.” Beatrix said. “We care. We put in the work, we put in the effort, and we end up crushing the other houses as a result. The contest is really ‘how many high performing students do you have?’, and since Unicorn and Dragon pull in most of them, the remaining high performers are dragged down by all the troublemakers and delinquents who get negative points.”

“We’re the swots!” Chris mimed a salute to the other students, only to get kicked under the table.

“We are not.” Beatrix firmly retorted.

“I feel like I shouldn’t ask, because I’m Team Dragon now and all that, but… how did Unicorn win last year if we’ve got more people?” Felix asked.

“Commander Thorne was off on international adventures, winning the Grimoire Games and losing us dozens of points as she pissed off the professors who went with her.” Chris happily explained. “We usually win, but we never get complacent about it.”

“I’m a little confused about her. I thought I saw her coming from the fifth years? Is she an eighth year?”

“We reward competency and ability.” Beatrix answered. “Generally, an eighth year is Commander, but she managed to prove she was best for the job.”

Chris held up his cup in a mock-toast.

“All hail her dark majesty, Princess Leona Thorne, Champion of Morrigan, rider of dragons, owner of the black cauldron, and wielder of magiks most darke and - shit, she’s right behind me, isn’t she?”

Felix and Beatrix just nodded.

“Mau. If you’ve got that much energy to yap, I think it’ll be far better spent on a sparring field tomorrow morning. Bright and early, let’s say 4AM? Should be enough sleep. Work off some of that summer rust before physical activity begins.”

Chris groaned his assent.

“Yes, Commander Thorne.” He said.

“Sutter, if I may have a word with you?” Leona said. 

“Mmmmfph?” Felix asked around a mouthful of food.

“In private?” Leona’s tone made it clear this wasn’t a request.

Felix grabbed a chicken leg to go, just in case, and followed Leona to the end of the table.

“Right. I got the story already. The chamber doors weren’t opening for you?” She asked.

“No, er, no ma’am.” He said awkwardly, not sure how to address the woman.

“No need for formalities unless you decide to.” Leona said dismissively. “Right, I’ve talked with the professors and checked the rulebook. You can get a second shot at a Sorting if you’d like. I know there’s a kid sick in the infirmary right now who’s going to be Sorted later. Now, with that said, I talked with cadre, and you’re welcome in Dragon house. You did take the trial head on, you did technically pass it, and you’ve passed through the door. The insignia’s on your shirt, the castle recognizes you as a Dragon. Youngest one in, oh, sixty years or so. I believe we’re the best house in Camelot, and given half a chance, I believe you’ll thrive here. It’s going to be hard work, more than your peers, but that’s how you’ll rise to the occasion. Are you in?” Leona asked.

Felix thought about it.

Was it really brains that was getting him out? He didn’t feel smart. It was an education that would help him out.

What was Dragon’s thing again? Ah right, discipline and hard work. Felix had spent the entire summer in the library, slowly and diligently working his way through textbooks. He wasn’t smart, he didn’t pick things up immediately. He just kept grinding at them. Maybe that was more Hydra house than Kirin house… but who was to say any door would open for him again?

Most of the people he’d met were in Thunderbird, and it was one of the last houses he thought he’d be in. Why not make friends here?

No, he’d picked already. Under massive duress, but there was a little warm ember at being the first Dragon in his year. Su Song hadn’t even gotten into Unicorn house! He was the first of the ‘special’ houses. 

“I think I’ll stay, er, Commander Thorne.” Felix said. She grinned at him.

“Let me be the first to say - Welcome to Dragon house!”