Chapter 12 - The Prydwen I

AN: I've got a lot of characters, very fast. I'm going to take a leaf out of several other author's books, and have brief one-liners about them at the start of the chapter, so your memory is refreshed.

Felix Sutter: Poor boy living in Sacramento, recently found out magic existed.
Paracelsus: The Immortal Alchemist. Teaches at Camelot. The professor that told Felix magic existed.

Entry VI – Of Avalon and the Dimensions Unbroken

Not all lay upon the loom of the mortal earth.

Avalon, that timeless isle, floats still between the veils. So too the Glimmervaults, and the Breathing Woods, and the Echoes of Vranmor. Pocket dimensions, ever tethered to no realm but their own, were untouched by the Sundering.

These spaces, born of pure intent or ancient rite, exist beyond the compass. They are bridges yet, between what was and what may still be.

I have stood upon Avalon’s shore since the Sundering. It felt as it ever had. That has been a great comfort to me upon these new and strange days.

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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Felix should’ve napped. Felix tried to nap. Felix had spent five hours tossing and turning in his bed, trying to get a bit of sleep before the most important day of his life. So far.

Damn the July heat. Damn the lack of air conditioning. Instead of sleeping, Felix sweated, both literally and metaphorically. What would it be like to meet other mages? What would the other kids be like? He was a little less bummed at not knowing anyone with how James had started selling.

The idiot had already been caught, and had been released on bail. He was already trying to sell more while out, and… Felix regretted knowing as much as he did.

They had promised not to start with that shit. 

Felix had the clothes on his back, $782.12 in a pouch, and a suitcase filled with clothes and school supplies. His mom had grabbed a nice, extra-large one that had been sitting around in the lost and found for 10 months. Felix had been able to find three of the required textbooks in the library, and very reluctantly checked them out yesterday. Six weeks of allowed borrowing time got him deep in the semester. They were going to be 20 days overdue when he got them back. At 10 cents a day, per book, he was going to have to pay a $6 fine when he got them back. He felt terrible about it, but there was no better way of getting the textbooks. Used, each one of them was over $70.

He had no idea how he’d handle the rest of the year. Maybe there was some magic that would let him copy the books? Otherwise, he could just use the magic of hard work and elbow grease, and manually copy all the textbooks.

Felix did a bit of mental categorizing on his clothing. He should avoid his looser clothing, keeping it fresh for when he outgrew his smaller clothes. Or maybe he’d use the small sewing kit, and see what he could do. Or… just magic up more. If it was possible.

Like, magic could literally turn water into gold. How every mage wasn’t obscenely wealthy, Felix would never figure out. He wanted that trick. He wanted it badly.

He’d given the small mug of solid gold to his mom, and for once, there wasn’t a huge pile of overdue bills on the table. It had also shook out a few hundred dollars for his school fund.

“You’ve got everything?” It was three minutes to midnight, and his mom was fussing over him.

“Everything I can.” Felix said.

“Pens? Paper? Books?” His mom asked.

Felix sighed. His mom tried to put a comb through his hair again.

“Mom!” Felix protested.

“This is the first day of school. You will look your best.” She scolded him.

“I’m fine mom!” He protested.

“Hmmm.” She didn’t remotely sound convinced. “Remember to eat your vegetables.”

“I will.” Felix dutifully answered.

“And change your underwear every day.”

“Mom!” Felix squeaked.

“And change your sheets every other week. I know teenage boys. Given half a chance, you’ll go the entire year without changing sheets once.”

Felix’s cheeks were burning, his blush creeping up to his hairline. A knock on the door didn’t help him at all.

“Go get the door, sweety.” His mom kissed him on the forehead and patted him on the back. Felix carefully peeked out the window before opening the door. 

“Professor! I’m so glad you knocked this time, instead of magicking the door open.” Felix grinned at Paracelsus, who looked unamused at his wisecrack.

“I did knock the last time I was here.” He pointed out. Paracelsus stepped into the trailer and wiped his feet on the mat. “Someone screamed at me and slammed the door shut in my face.”

Felix flushed again.

“Oh right. That dastardly someone. Good thing that didn’t happen this time. And that you’re wearing pants.” He wisecracked.

Paracelsus shot Felix a Look.

“You should take notes of unusual phenomena around yourself.” He lectured. “It could help reveal your inner core, a piece of information every wixen should have. Naturally, you will learn more in your Magic Theory and History class. Do you have everything you need?”

Felix stifled a sigh. Everyone was trying to mother him! His mom had half an excuse, but he was practically an adult! He didn’t need to be mothered.

“Come here.” Felix’s mom opened her arms and wrapped her kid in a hug. “I love you. I’ll miss you. Make friends and be happy.”

Felix wriggled out of her grip.

“Love you too.” He mumbled out, hyperaware of Paracelsus.

“Come.” He said. 

With one last hug, kiss, and nose nuzzle, Felix bounded out the door after Paracelsus.

“Buses don’t run this time of night.” Felix said. “Does magic help with walking?”

Paracelsus snorted.

“It can. There’s also the magic of a taxi, which I have arranged for us.”

“Not an uber?” Felix asked, spotting the cab in question.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Paracelsus muttered to himself. “I have no idea what an uber is, but I can guess from context. Throughout the ages, there’s always transportation for hire. From a wagon to a carriage, the name changes but the idea remains.”

Felix nodded as they got to the cab. They loaded his gear, and got in the car.

“Where to?” The cabbie asked.

“Tiscornia Park.” Paracelsus answered. The cabbie glanced in the mirror at them.

“Tiscornia Park.” He said flatly. “Not the airport? This isn’t some sketchy shit that’s going to end with me talking to the cops, is it?”

“There is a boat waiting for us.” Paracelsus patiently explained.

“You’re not really selling it on the ‘not sketchy’ part, bud.” The cabbie replied, but pressed the meter and slowly pulled out. “There’s not really a dock there.”

“If you’d like, you may stay and watch.” Paracelsus offered. “Might have an interesting story or two.”

With a muttered ‘absolutely not worth it’, the cabbie continued to drive, and soon dropped them off at Tiscornia Park, a small beach.

“$200.00” The cabbie said. Felix’s eye flickered to the meter - that was not the number there. Paracelsus didn’t look terribly amused either, but handed over ten crisp twenties.

Felix almost felt like crying. He would’ve gotten started hours earlier and just walked to Tiscornia Park for $200. The cabbie leaned out the window and stared at the two of them as they walked down to the beach.

Where water met water, where land met the sea, three days before the term started at Camelot, the Gates of Mist would form. Tiscornia Park was somewhat misnamed - it was a parking lot, a stretch of grass that gamely held on in the California heat, then a modest beach where two rivers met each other. The moon was just a sliver away from being new.

“We are missing an archway.” Paracelsus scanned the small beach, not terribly impressed.

“Can we just lean a branch against a tree or something?” Felix asked.

“Yes, but make sure it’s a properly fallen branch.” Paracelsus said. “There’s enough processed wood that just doesn’t work well with magic.”

It was hard to see on the beach. The cab’s bright headlights failed to illuminate anything properly, but were strong enough to kill their nightvision. It took a bit of stumbling around in the dark until Paracelsus pulled a flashlight out from his robes. Felix quickly found a branch as tall as he was.

“Will this work?” He asked Paracelsus.

“It will.” He said, then handed it back to Felix.

“For your first bit of magic, try leaning it up against the tree.” He said.

Felix leaned it against the tree, making an awkward triangle half as tall as he was. 

“Now what?” He asked. Paracelsus simply nodded to the branch, and Felix took a second look.

Mist was pooling and forming between the tree and the branch. Never mind the heat, never mind the utter lack of humidity, there was more mist there than the Sierra mountains.

“The Gates of Mist.” Paracelsus proudly announced. “The gateway to the Port of Dreams, where the Prydwen will take you to Avalon.”

“Whoa.” Felix said. “Do we just walk through?”

“I recommend ducking first.” Paracelsus drily answered. “But yes. Bring your luggage.”

Felix ducked down, and awkwardly moving his luggage and backpack behind him, crawled through the Gate of Mist. Paracelsus followed a moment later. There was no dignified way to get through.

A hundred yards away, a lit cigarette fell from the cabbie's mouth.