Does anyone expect an eagle to walk just because it can stand on two legs? What about its feathers? What of its hollow bones? Why should a dragon walk over land when he can unfurl his wings and fly?
“I’d check our map to see where we’re going,” Augustin shouted, “but I worry it’ll blow away in the wind.”
“I trust you,” Braiden said, at the very least half-meaning it.
He didn’t really have much choice in the matter, did he? Dangling from the wizard’s arms, he felt very much like a kitten being carried by the scruff. Braiden finally understood why the wizard bothered to build his muscles: It was for the purpose of effortlessly hefting hapless shopkeepers like sacks of potatoes.
At least this time they didn’t shock or terrorize any birds along the way. A flock of geese flying in the opposite direction barely gave them a moment’s notice. Perhaps word had spread among the avian community about the giant two-headed bird that patrolled the skies near Weathervale.
“Over there,” Augustin said. “That seems like a fine place to stop for the afternoon.”
Again, Braiden had very little choice in the matter, but he was happy to go along with Augustin’s plans. He couldn’t complain, anyway. Augustin was already straining his body with the task of carrying an entire other human in his arms, not to mention the pressure he was placing on his spirit with the effort of maintaining a flying spell.
They landed gently on the peak of a grassy hilltop, not so high that Braiden would be afraid to take a terrible tumble, but high up enough to offer a very pretty view. Braiden placed his hands on his hips as he sipped in lungfuls of brisk air, turning in a slow circle as he surveyed their surroundings.
“If Weathervale is all the way back there,” he said, pointing the way they came, “then that must be the road that leads all the way to Whiteport.”
He placed a hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun, frowning down the long road to what was quietly considered as Weathervale’s rival. Hah. Whiteport. They thought they were so smart.
It was a port city like Weathervale, but far bigger, more strategically positioned as a center for trade, its waters teeming with merchant vessels. They liked to lord their size and their wealth over Weathervale, and the pompous fools liked to claim that they invented the lobster roll, too. Preposterous.
And wasn’t Augustin responsible for stopping a tidal wave from slamming into their city, anyway? Learning that little factoid had given Braiden a smug, if grim sense of satisfaction. If it wasn’t for someone who was actually born in Weathervale, the city of Whiteport might have been wiped completely off the map.
“And over there,” Braiden said, pointing at a strangely darker stretch of land in the distance, its sky and even its grass seemingly grayer than everywhere else. “A small village called Barrowdeep, somewhere thereabouts. I’ve heard that they’ve had to deal with the undead. Terrifying business, that.”
Augustin was already sitting in the grass, struggling to get his boots off. “Plenty to see and do in Aidun, though I admit, I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to interact with more of the undead, especially the bloodthirsty kind. Bones is plenty enough on his own.”
He finally yanked off his second boot, stretching his socked feet out in the grass, sighing in relief. Braiden smirked, wondering why Augustin was so happy to get his boots off when so little of their journey had involved actually walking.
Braiden pulled a flask of water out of his rucksack, far underestimating the very drying effect that flight had on themouth and throat. Perhaps it was something that could be remedied in future with some sort of helmet, or maybe a pair of tight-fitting glasses? He’d seen alchemists use similar protective wear.
Hmm. What if he commissioned something from a glassmaker and leather crafter, then sewed some moongrass into the hide? Would the moongrass magic take then? It was odd and exciting, receiving all these new ideas from this simple change of environment, how he was once again out of the craft shop in a place where his mind was allowed to expand and impossibly daydream.
But before he could voice the idea to Augustin, the sound of snoring hit his ears. Unbelievable. Augustin was already fast asleep, dozing off in the grass. Not that Braiden could blame him. The grass was very soft, quite nice to use as bedding. He’d have to be careful not to fall asleep himself.
Besides, Augustin deserved the break from spending so much magic on a flying spell. What if they arrived at their destination only to be immediately attacked by a raging elemental? He’d need to build his strength back up.
And Braiden deserved a little snack to go with his beverage, too. He retrieved one of several squarish cloth bundles from his rucksack, unwrapping the ends to reveal a small wooden lunchbox. He lifted the lid, mouth watering in anticipation.
Augustin’s snoring stopped, cut off by a sudden snort. He smacked his lips and opened his eyes blearily, then snuffled at the air, like a pig looking for truffles.
“Is that that horrible rock-hard cheese you’re so fond of? The kind that you can smell from another room?”
Braiden frowned. “I find it very tasty, for your information, and it travels well. It’s good to take along for journeys.”
And besides, it came as part of his rations — more like meal kits, really. Very clever, those adventuring suppliers at theNoose, putting together preselected assortments of foodstuffs that adventurers could simply pack and go, regardless of their destination.
This particular package — and Braiden’s personal favorite — offered a robust selection of nuts, salted meats, hard crackers, and yes, that one stinky rock-hard cheese he liked so much. Full of flavor, and fat, and protein, all things that Braiden’s body could use on this long journey.
“That smells horrible,” Augustin said. “Give me some.”
“Never,” Braiden barked. “You hate it so much, you’re not getting any.”
Augustin wrestled him, pinning him down long enough to take a bite of the cheese straight from his hand. Braiden couldn’t help laughing, by now accustomed to the wizard’s sporadic silliness.
It was nice, getting to know this side of him, especially knowing that the opposite side of the coin was a seasoned adventurer and folk hero who could level entire armies with his formidable magic. Probably. Maybe.
They snacked on rations for some quiet moments, savoring a meal as they stared at the sky.
