Aengus was still eyeing him like he had grown a third head, but stopped and closed his eyes and listened. Alfred barely breathed, and the music was swirling around them like the outer tendrils of a spiral galaxy… And then something clicked. Alfred snatched the amulet from his blazer pocket, and pulled it over his neck.
“Agh!” Alfred cried, closing his eyes quickly as the light was blinding. He scrambled to grab the amulet and tug it back off over his head. Hell, what was that? He opened his eyes again, and blinked when he couldn’t see anything from the imprint of the past light on his eyes. “Damn!” He hated this! He was more damn blind than usual! Blind as a fucking bat! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!
Hmm? A groggy mumble echoed in Alfred’s brain. What’s all this fuss about then?
That almost made Alfred swear again as he blinked furiously to get rid of the afterimage. He really didn’t want Adain’s snide commentary at the moment. Why did the dragon have to wake up now?
“I told you not to wear that thing.” Aengus’s voice was chiding, something Alfred really didn’t appreciate. He took a deep breath and used the butt of his heels to rub his eyes. He felt the motion of the small dragon behind him rustling and turning. Ugh. Damn, he was awake. Though he did have to admit, if something weird (again, more weird than this place should be) was happening, Adain would be useful to have around.
Get me out of this thing! Adain called forcefully. Is something wrong? There’s magic everywhere!
“What do you mean, magic everywhere?” Aengus said, voice closer and tone resembling a cross between suspicious and worried now. The music was still playing, high and reedy.
Why didn’t I notice it earlier? Adain fretted as Alfred slipped the straps from his shoulders, and felt for, and then unzipped the pocket that contained Adain. I can feel it! Adain burst from the sack at the first opportunity, wings colliding with Alfred’s nose. Alfred gasped in pain as it began to bleed, blood running hot and fast down his face, and brought his right hand up to staunch the flow. He pulled his hand away for a moment, sight beginning to recover a little, and the first thing he saw was red blood on his hand. Alfred looked up, and Adain was high above their heads, flapping around in circles.
Alfred assumed the dragon could take care of himself for the moment, and dug around with his left hand inside his pack for his first aid kit. Why, why did he need this so soon? And from friendly fire too… The rip of sterile paper, wetness between his fingers, a wince as the alcohol swap touched gently on his nose. Nations healed fast, but infections sucked. Alfred grabbed his nose firmly in his left hand, and then firmly yanked his nose back into position. Oh, oh that hurt, it always did. He quickly ran fingers down his nose to make sure it was straight as Adain and Aengus debated about the nature of what was going on. Never good to heal incorrectly. Alright, the surface wound and the cartilage misalignment on the inside was all straightened out. The swab took care of the dried blood on his face. He was a-okay! Alfred grinned to himself. He wasn’t sure, but this music made him lose his tiredness and exhaustion, made him feel alive, put an itch into his shoes to move! His listened for a moment.
“Of course there’s magic, you birdbrain! This is Underhill!”
But there’s a lot! It’s, it’s not bad, but there’s way more than usual!
“And when was the last time you were down ‘ere? Back when Albia and Caledonia tried to rescue their brothers? How do you know how much magic is normal?”
By the eternal flame and Mother Universe, I’m made of magic, you numbskull! Don’t you remember the last time you didn’t trust me?
“That’s completely different, that was when – ”
At that, Alfred made a decision. Adain had said it wasn’t bad after all. “Alright, I’m going to find the source of this music. Come with me if you want.” And with that Alfred took off into the brush, following the tune on the breeze.
Music? Music? Adain said a little shrilly. What music?!
Crowe 7c/?
“Agh!” Alfred cried, closing his eyes quickly as the light was blinding. He scrambled to grab the amulet and tug it back off over his head. Hell, what was that? He opened his eyes again, and blinked when he couldn’t see anything from the imprint of the past light on his eyes. “Damn!” He hated this! He was more damn blind than usual! Blind as a fucking bat! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!
Hmm? A groggy mumble echoed in Alfred’s brain. What’s all this fuss about then?
That almost made Alfred swear again as he blinked furiously to get rid of the afterimage. He really didn’t want Adain’s snide commentary at the moment. Why did the dragon have to wake up now?
“I told you not to wear that thing.” Aengus’s voice was chiding, something Alfred really didn’t appreciate. He took a deep breath and used the butt of his heels to rub his eyes. He felt the motion of the small dragon behind him rustling and turning. Ugh. Damn, he was awake. Though he did have to admit, if something weird (again, more weird than this place should be) was happening, Adain would be useful to have around.
Get me out of this thing! Adain called forcefully. Is something wrong? There’s magic everywhere!
“What do you mean, magic everywhere?” Aengus said, voice closer and tone resembling a cross between suspicious and worried now. The music was still playing, high and reedy.
Why didn’t I notice it earlier? Adain fretted as Alfred slipped the straps from his shoulders, and felt for, and then unzipped the pocket that contained Adain. I can feel it! Adain burst from the sack at the first opportunity, wings colliding with Alfred’s nose. Alfred gasped in pain as it began to bleed, blood running hot and fast down his face, and brought his right hand up to staunch the flow. He pulled his hand away for a moment, sight beginning to recover a little, and the first thing he saw was red blood on his hand. Alfred looked up, and Adain was high above their heads, flapping around in circles.
Alfred assumed the dragon could take care of himself for the moment, and dug around with his left hand inside his pack for his first aid kit. Why, why did he need this so soon? And from friendly fire too… The rip of sterile paper, wetness between his fingers, a wince as the alcohol swap touched gently on his nose. Nations healed fast, but infections sucked. Alfred grabbed his nose firmly in his left hand, and then firmly yanked his nose back into position. Oh, oh that hurt, it always did. He quickly ran fingers down his nose to make sure it was straight as Adain and Aengus debated about the nature of what was going on. Never good to heal incorrectly. Alright, the surface wound and the cartilage misalignment on the inside was all straightened out. The swab took care of the dried blood on his face. He was a-okay! Alfred grinned to himself. He wasn’t sure, but this music made him lose his tiredness and exhaustion, made him feel alive, put an itch into his shoes to move! His listened for a moment.
“Of course there’s magic, you birdbrain! This is Underhill!”
But there’s a lot! It’s, it’s not bad, but there’s way more than usual!
“And when was the last time you were down ‘ere? Back when Albia and Caledonia tried to rescue their brothers? How do you know how much magic is normal?”
By the eternal flame and Mother Universe, I’m made of magic, you numbskull! Don’t you remember the last time you didn’t trust me?
“That’s completely different, that was when – ”
At that, Alfred made a decision. Adain had said it wasn’t bad after all. “Alright, I’m going to find the source of this music. Come with me if you want.” And with that Alfred took off into the brush, following the tune on the breeze.
Music? Music? Adain said a little shrilly. What music?!