Chapter 5 - Question and Answers

Entry III – Of the Sundering and the Mercy of Arches

By hand and heart and spell beyond ken, Merlin wrought the Great Sundering. The weave of all things he unmade and rewove, casting the mundane unto one world, and our kind unto another.

Two worlds, alike in place and shape, yet parted as soul from body. No wixen could henceforth be burned by mundane ignorance - for they would no longer see us.

Thus did the world divide, not in wrath, but in necessity. The Old World remained the dominion of mundanes, ever blind to the arcane; the New, our sanctuary, a realm forged from echo and will, for those of magical blood.

Yet Merlin, ever the heart of wisdom, knew our hearts as well. He knew there were threads too sacred to sever. Sons and daughters of two realms, lovers caught ‘twixt fire and flame, friendships formed in childhood - these, he sought not to undo.

And so he shaped the Arches - runes of passage, bound in starlight and sorrow. Through them, kin might meet, if but briefly, and memory be preserved across the rift.

‘Twas not exile, but mercy.

Arcadia, a new land. Sanctuary for all.

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 tried to carefully consider his questions and order them. He wanted to immediately blurt out all the questions he had about money. Textbooks were so fucking expensive!! He didn’t have the numbers off hand, having never needed them, but he knew they started at hundreds of dollars and went up from there.

Special textbooks marked with ‘are magical’? They had to cost more. So, so much more.

But it’d be super rude for his first question to be about money, not when he had already asked and had so many more. Felix blurted out the first question he thought of that didn’t relate to money.

“Is this the normal way people are introduced to the magic world?” He asked.

“By virtually every measure, no.” Paracelsus answered. “In nearly every case, an interested or known family member is either doing the introduction, or participates. We couldn’t locate any magical relatives of yours, but the art of divination often comes with failures. Even then, it is rare for a new member of our society to not be present in the Kingdom of Logres in Arcadia. Most of the time, we would have this conversation surrounded by magic. We’d see the shops and the streets.” He got a far-away look in his eyes as he spoke.

“Unfortunately, the Empire of the Sun controls the area we would appear in Arcadia, and they would not look kindly on our intrusion. It is better than in prior years, where we wouldn’t have been able to contact you at all. There were about two centuries of students in the western half of the New World that we simply had to hope they could figure out how to accept the letter and arrive at Camelot on their own. Bless the noonies and their technology, airplanes have made this meeting possible. I wonder what they’ll come up with in the next hundred years?”

Felix had all sorts of questions about how old Paracelsus was and if wixen lived longer than normal people, but mention of family had derailed most of his thoughts. The topic of Felix’s dad had been a sore spot for as long as Felix had been aware he should have a dad, and didn’t. His mom’s reaction had always been ‘I don’t know’. She had never married, not even had boyfriends over. It was just her and Felix against the world.

“Could we find my father with divination?” Felix eagerly asked, leaning forward on the table.

“Possibly. Divination is one of the core classes you’ll be taking, you should ask your professor how to best get it done.”

The familiar disappointment was tinged by a rare ember of hope, and Felix gently cradled it. He had no idea what he’d do if he ever found the man - his daydreams alternated between hugging the man and punching him for abandoning him and his mom. He remembered Paracelsus’s chastisement about taking notes, and while he didn’t think he’d forget something so monumental, he wrote it down anyway.

Divination to find dad - possible.

The notion basically did a hard reset on Felix’s thought process, knocking most of his questions out of his head.

“How much does all of this cost? What’s the money like?” Felix asked. He hesitated, but it wasn’t like them being poor was a secret or anything, not with the man sitting in their trailer and seeing how they lived. “Is there anything on the list that’s… more optional?”

Paracelsus pursed his lips at the question, but Felix refused to be cowed. Money was tight.

“I would need to consult the exchange rates for the current local currency, but 10 denarii is worth approximately 9 pounds sterling. It is 50 denarii to an aurelli. A cheap wand is going to cost at least three aurelli, but I wouldn’t buy one less than six. A mediocre wand is around ten aurelli. None of the other supplies should cost more than two aurelli. Regular books are one to four aurelli each, the magical books are beginner and thus start at six.”

Every word punched at Felix. The last word was like a groin shot, and wanted to have Felix curl up in a whimpering ball. He dutifully took notes on the exchange rate, already mentally cursing. Was a dollar worth more than a pound or less… and which way would make the books cheaper?

“Six… total?” Felix failed to keep the begging note out of his voice.

“Each.” Paracelsus said, and Felix closed his eyes.

A pound was roughly a dollar, right? Fifty dollars to an aurelli? Good enough estimate for now. $150 for a wand, $100 for the general supplies, 7 normal books at $350, 3 magical books at $300 each was another $900, $1500 total. 

Fuuuuck. That was almost what they made per month. And Felix had just lost his job.

That didn’t include bringing all the comforts of home, but that was almost irrelevant. Felix could use ratty shoes or even go barefoot if he outgrew them. Clothes - oh shit, there was a uniform. That was going to cost more! Otherwise, he could wear the same set of clothes until they could run for pope.

Because they’d be so holey.

It was the classic problem. The opportunity could get them out of the hole they found themselves in, but they didn’t have any money to take advantage of it!

Wait - Felix might’ve misinterpreted something. Paracelsus had said ‘None of the other supplies should cost more than two aurelli’, but that wasn’t total. The boy wanted to bang his head on the table. It was just impossible. 

Felix found himself staring at the miniature golden chair and almost slapped himself.

RIGHT. Gold! Solid gold, right there! All he had to do was convert it into cash, buy the supplies, and they’d be set. 

Assuming the whole evening hadn’t been a massive fever dream. Felix discreetly pinched his thigh as hard as he could, and had never been so happy to feel a sharp jolt of pain through his body. 

Plus, that was probably the price of everything new. Felix had a few weeks to try and find as many things secondhand as possible. The biology textbook was ringing a faint bell, and maybe he could check more of the books out of the school’s library.

Or hell, just read over someone’s shoulder. It’d be on their timeline and grace, but it wouldn’t be the first time Felix had needed to shamefully bum school supplies off someone else. 

One way or another, he’d make this work. Worst case, July 18th was when the whole thing was revealed to be a cruel joke. 

The only thing more valuable than money was his life, and it led to the next question.

“Is magic safe?” Felix asked. The boy did not like how Paracelsus sighed deeply. That was a bad sign.

“Yes, and no. The wanded arts are almost entirely safe, save should you find yourself on the wrong end of a spell. However, there are a thousand and one ways you can accidentally kill yourself doing something unutterably dumb, and there is a casualty almost every year at Camelot. Notably, these casualties are almost entirely self-inflicted, and haven’t followed the good lessons we attempt to impart.”

Felix was morbidly curious. 

“Wait, who died last year and how?” He asked. Paracelsus sadly shook his head.

“A student attempted to graft octopus arms to themself. It mostly succeeded, but he forgot to account for the additional brains that each octopus has in their arms. Each one was small, but there was some cross-contamination with his own mind, and the result was unpleasant.”

Felix blinked. Trying to graft octopus arms to his own body? If he ever got the urge to do something that dumb, maybe it was right for Darwin to spring into action.

“Is that… usual?” Felix asked.

Paracelsus snorted.

“No, generally the ritual a student blows themselves up with is far dumber than that. If you simply listen to your professors and don’t decide you’ve invented a new branch of magic, or that one of the laws is simply wrong, you will be fine. Camelot boasts some of the strongest wards in the world. The last time a student died by another’s hand under active wards was over 400 years ago. I will be your ritual professor at Camelot. Any ritual you want to perform, you can simply discuss with me, and I will tell you how safe it is. Should you take that simple precaution, stay in the safe areas, and don’t dive off the cliffs into the ocean, you’ll be perfectly safe. Don’t mix a bunch of potion ingredients together and drink it because ‘it’ll be fine’.”

For a brief moment, it seemed like magic was too dangerous. Then Felix spent a few moments thinking about it. Given how regular school shootings were these days, it seemed far safer than the current school he was slated to attend.

“Is there anything I should know?” He asked.

“There’s going to be significant cultural shock.” Paracelsus immediately answered with a small nod of approval. “The norms of Logres are quite different to America. Allowances will be made from the staff as you adjust, but do not expect the other students to be quite so understanding. Now, one thing you must know. Do not tell people your last name. Knowing the full, true name of a person or being is one of the key ingredients to ritually bind them. Most wixen avoid the issue by giving their children needlessly complex middle names that are never spoken, but the same is not true in the mundane world. There are other precautions, but they are not quite as critical as not sharing your middle name.”

“Okay. And I have another question about the books. Do we need to…”

The two of them talked for almost four more hours, Felix asking questions and taking notes on the answers. Everything from the school schedule - four breaks a year, around the solstice and equinox, but generally the wixen spent more hours in school - to communication, Avalon, Arcadia, classes and more. Paracelsus explained how to get on The Prydwen when it came time to go to Camelot - and that he’d be there personally to guide Felix on his first trip.

“It is pointless to believe you will simply know how to pass through the Gates of Mist.” Paracelsus said. “Which brings me to the next point. Timing. You are in a quite unfortunate location.” He said.

Felix wrote down unfortunate spot on his notes next to the details.

“The Prydwen leaves at 10 in the morning, a perfectly reasonable time for the young men and women destined for Avalon. Time in Arcadia is mostly synchronized with the mundane realm, but all of Logres is in a single timezone. You, however, are eight hours behind. The perfectly reasonable 10 AM ship requires you to be on it at 2 in the morning.”

Felix wrote it down.

“Good excuse for me to stay up all night.” He joked. Paracelsus arched one eyebrow.

“And it will utterly ruin you for one of the most important days. You do not want to be sleep-deprived during orientation. As a young wizard attending Camelot, you will need to put your best efforts towards your education. There is less supervision - pardon me, likely less supervision-” Paracelsus corrected himself as he looked around the dingy trailer, remembering that Felix was basically on his own with his mother working. “there than you currently experience. You will need to manage your own sleep and study habits, and I will be most disappointed with you should you squander your chance at Camelot by staying up too late.”

The words and tone had Felix sitting up straight. It was a good reminder that Paracelsus was a professor, and saw kids all year.

“Yes sir, no sir.” Felix promptly rattled off. “Um. Is there a spell or potion or something that’ll help with the time difference?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Paracelsus said, then checked his watch. The watch that… had always been there.

Had it? Magic was making Felix question his sanity and his memories.

“The hour is getting quite late. Unless you have any further questions, I will see you on the 17th of July. Remember, you only need to bring your essentials, all school supplies can be purchased in Corwin.”

Felix looked down, the late hour and the sheer chaos of the day hitting him all at once. More magic? Or simply the magic of adrenaline?

“No sir, I think that’s all.” He said. Paracelsus hadn’t been asked to be called sir, but it felt… right. 

“Excellent. Then, if you don’t mind, I have a question for you.” Paracelsus asked. Felix straightened up, trying not to slump at the late hour.

“Yes?” Felix asked. Paracelsus grimaced.

“I am quite old. I make it a habit of mine to keep up with the noonies and what’s occurring in the mundane world. Airplanes, automobiles, and all those I’m quite familiar with navigating. But on this trip, I keep getting asked for a thing and I haven’t the foggiest clue what it is. Could you explain to me what an e-mail address is?”