Chapter Text
Arthur was leaving Hazelbridge for the first time in his life. In all the time he’d lived there, he’d never once set foot outside of its borders. There was never a need to. His was a comfortable life, one filled with familiarity and well-established rhythms.
But now he had to leave.
He and Alfred were silent once they crossed the village boundary. There was nothing he wanted or needed to say, and the knight was equally quiet, leading the way with his horse. Behind them were the sounds of a village getting ready for the day. In front of them was a path wide and flat enough for a cart, lined with a simple wooden fence that soon gave way to grass and rolling green meadows. The more they walked, the more trees appeared, until eventually they entered the woods. Birds flitted about branches overhead, singing boldly as if all was well in the world. And to them, that was true. But it was not so to Arthur, and he was at a loss as to what to do about it.
Neither of them spoke until they stopped for a break at noon. The clearing showed signs of being previously used, with a rough ring of stones marking out a basic fire pit and soot marks in the dirt. A felled tree was also there, presumably as improvised seating for whoever came before. Arthur stood and watched as Alfred scouted the area. Sunlight was tethered to a sturdy tree and swiftly untacked, then brushed. Once the horse was eating, Alfred inspected the downed tree before sitting down. From a bag he brought out a roll of bread.
Alfred finally looked at him. “Are you hungry? It’s best to have a rest now before we keep going.”
Arthur took a hesitant step forward before making to sit. He took the proffered piece of maslin and bit into it. He chewed and swallowed, the familiar flavours of the Covent’s baking causing a welling of an emotion he didn’t wish to name.
The knight watched him. “How are you doing?”
Arthur tore off a chunk of bread and contemplated their surroundings. “Where are we going?”
Alfred didn’t stop watching him. “We’re headed for the next village over. It’s a day’s travel on foot. You really haven’t been out of the village ever?”
Arthur studied the bread’s dense crumb. “I’ve been out to the fields and the surrounding houses, but never past the boundary.”
Alfred frowned. “Not even neighbouring villages for errands?”
“No.” Having had enough of looking at the bread, the mage ate the piece in his hand. “The Masters always let me swap duties. They were very lenient with me.” He wondered why Alfred wouldn’t look away.
A robin bounced on the ground in front of them and Alfred tossed a breadcrumb at it. The bird flew back several paces before hopping back. It snatched the breadcrumb, then flew off a distance away to eat its prize. It cocked its head and watched Alfred. Another crumb went in its direction and this time the robin showed minimal hesitation, pecking and eating at their feet.
Alfred finally spoke up. “You know what my orders are. We’ll have to pass through several villages, check up on the knights posted there, make it look like we’re doing actual work. Eventually we’ll get to a village called Roundstone. There should be correspondence waiting for me there. If it’s not we’ll have to wait until the mail comes in. Then I’ll know what our next steps are.” Taking out a block of cheese from the bag, he used his knife to slice off a piece and gave it Arthur.
The mage took the cheese after a brief moment of hesitation. “And the Second Company won’t come after us?”
Alfred ate a piece of cheese. “There’s no guarantee, but personally I don’t think so. My orders came from the High Captain herself, so they’re as legitimate as can be. Your Masters know what to say if questioned. If the Second Company does come after us, we have a head start on them, and it’s easier to move two people than a whole group.” He grimaced. “Knowing Ryker, he’ll bring an entire contingent with him.”
“You really don’t like him.” Arthur held a hand out and waited.
The knight snorted and handed him another slice. “Understatement of the year. He’s held a grudge against me ever since I got promoted. Thinks I’m perverting the natural order by taking an officer’s post when I’m not from one of the Houses. He’s been trying to get me removed from my position ever since.”
Arthur nibbled at his food. “Inner City life sounds complicated.” He watched the robin fly away, Alfred having stopped feeding it. Finally turning to the man, he scrunched his forehead. “But if the Second Company returns to the village, won’t they find out we’ve gone? Even if you have official orders, doesn’t that seem suspicious?”
“That’s the thing though. We’re hiding in plain sight.” Alfred winked. “It’s actually expected for First Order officers to take a mage with them as an aide. As I was stationed in your village for a few months and received my new orders there, it makes sense for me to select an aide from your Covent.” Seeing the mage was done with eating, he put the cheese away and cleaned his knife. “And remember, I’m an upstart of a Sub-Captain. Of course I’m going to pick an acolyte to be my aide. No matter that the acolyte is the most talented mage in the entirety of Hazelbridge.” He smiled warmly at his companion.
Arthur looked away. His boots were starting to attract dust and dirt. It was probably time to renew the cleanliness spell. “How long will the journey to Roundstone take?”
Alfred sheathed his knife. “A week of decent walking if you don’t make any detours, at least a week and a half for us. We’ll be able to stay overnight in villages, but I think it’s best if I teach you how to make camp just in case. Depending on the conditions we might need to spend a night or two outside.”
“Oh.” The acolyte smoothed the fabric of his robe.
Alfred nodded at Arthur’s knife, lips quirked in amusement. “I already know you can defend yourself without magic, so we can skip the lesson on that. But you should be wary of bandits and outlaws. They’re not usually a problem out in the countryside, but the closer we are to towns and more trafficked roads, the more likely we’ll come across them. You should always be vigilant.”
Arthur hunched his shoulders. “You’re not making this sound pleasant at all.”
The knight’s eyebrows pulled together and his lips tugged down. “I’m sorry you had to leave.”
Arthur scowled at a nearby rock. “Apologizing doesn’t change anything. What’s done is done.” He looked everywhere except at Alfred, before settling on watching Sunlight, who was now grazing. “Don’t you need to water your horse?”
Alfred let out a barely audible sigh before standing up, dusting off his clothes. “Yeah, there’s a stream near here. The path we’re on follows it for a ways, so we won’t be short on water. If you’re feeling rested we can go now.”
Standing up without saying a word, Arthur made sure his belongings were secure. He adjusted his hood, watching Alfred check over his packs and equipment before tacking Sunlight back up. In no time at all, they were back on the road.
They arrived at their first village just as the sun was setting. It was small, similar enough in size to Hazelbridge that Arthur thought for a moment they’d somehow returned. But this village didn’t have a Covent nor any First Order knights. Only when Alfred mentioned its name did Arthur realize that it was one of the villages the Covent serviced.
“Willowbrook?” Arthur looked at the surrounding farmland curiously. “So this is what it looks like.”
Alfred patted Sunlight as they approached the gate. “Yup. We can stay the night with the village chief, then we’ll set out tomorrow morning.”
The Chief, a jolly man named Craig, recognized Alfred and gladly let them into his home. He squinted at Arthur. “Your robes tell me you’re one of the Covent’s acolytes, young man, but I don’t recall ever meeting you.”
Arthur dipped his head. “I’m Arthur, one of the scribes. It’s the first time I’ve come to Willowbrook, but I’ve heard a lot from the other mages.”
Craig’s expression cleared. “Ah, so you’re Arthur! Yes, the other mages have mentioned you in passing. I hear you’re an expert with the pen, is that right?”
The mage smiled politely if stiffly. “It’s part of the job. Personally, I think many of our senior scribes are quite talented.”
The Chief chortled and clapped him hard on the back, nearly sending the acolyte flying. “Ah, you’re a modest one, aren’t you? Welcome, welcome. My home is your home, boys!” He shook Alfred’s shoulder heartily. “I’m sure you know this already, but you’re in good hands here with Sir Alfred. He’s always been a great help whenever he visits!”
Alfred laughed warmly. “That’s what knights do. Thanks for housing us, Chief Craig. We’ll be back on the road tomorrow morning, so we won’t be underfoot for too long.”
The older man clasped the knight’s shoulder. “Sir Alfred,” here he nodded at Arthur, “and you, Arthur, are welcome to stay as long as you want. Let me know if you need anything, hm? Willowbrook would be happy to help you.”
Supper was a very filling affair where the Chief’s wife, a woman as jolly as her husband, insisted on giving them second servings. Once that was done and everything was cleared, blankets were laid out by the hearth and linen rags and pitchers of water provided. With the day servants gone home and the household retired to bed upstairs, it was just Arthur and Alfred in the main hall. Their faces and hands were washed and teeth were brushed. Turned away from each other for modesty, they stripped down and scrubbed off the day’s dirt and grime.
Once clean and dressed, Arthur took to the task of combing his hair. Across the banked hearth, Alfred was in his linens, carefully folding his gambeson into a makeshift pillow. Arthur pulled the comb through his unruly hair. He’d accepted a long time ago that his hair couldn’t be tamed, neither through manual means nor magical. It was what it was, and he was to live with it. Alfred though, had hair that was smooth and seemed easy to manage. Not a strand was out of place, unless one took into account the cowlick that stood not defiantly, but jauntily. Arthur made another pass through his hair before putting the comb away.
Done with his gambeson, Alfred too combed his hair. Arthur noted with a quickly squashed bit of envy that the knight’s attempt was much smoother and quicker than his own. In the minimal light provided by the banked hearth, Alfred’s hair reflected the embers, glowing darkly amber. Scrunching his nose at himself, Arthur placed his belt and knife next to his satchel and sat on the rush floor.
Alfred’s eyes, dark pools in the night, watched him in the flickering light. He sat cross-legged, arranging the provided blanket around his legs. “Tomorrow,” he began, voice quiet in consideration of their hosts, “we’ll get to one of the villages served by the Third Company. It’s less distance than what we walked today, so I’ll be able to start inspections in the evening. I won’t be done until the morning after, though. You’ll be accompanying me the whole time. You won’t need to do much. You have your tablet with you?” At the mage’s nod, he continued. “All you need to do is make some notes. I’ll let you know if anything specific needs to be written down.”
“Will we be staying with the First Order then?” Arthur’s fingers felt along the weave of the woolen blanket. He dithered for a moment, then mimicked Alfred’s earlier action, folding his cloak into a rectangle.
The other man watched his motions with unconcealed amusement. “Yeah. We’ll have beds and pillows and privacy.” Outright grinning when the mage poked doubtfully at his folded cloak, Alfred’s voice shook with mirth. “You okay there? Why don’t we trade? My gambeson for your cloak. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
Arthur scowled at the barely visible dining table. “No thank you. I’m doing just fine.”
“No really, your neck will thank you tomorrow.” Alfred grinned so wide his teeth reflected in the dark. “I’m used to roughing it but you probably haven’t slept without a nice pillow in who knows how long.” He made a grabbing motion. “Come on, don’t be shy.”
With a sigh that was maybe a bit too loud and long to be polite for the hour, Arthur made the exchange. Now that it was in his hands, the gambeson was obviously much thicker, the layered quilting giving it structure. Folded up, it was not unlike a pillow. He glowered at Alfred’s smug face. The best way to test a pillow out was to use it, and so he lay down, covered himself with the blanket, and got comfortable.
Here Arthur realized his foolishness. The gambeson was owned by Alfred and worn by Alfred, therefore it was logical that it smelled like Alfred. It was wood smoke and thyme and rosemary and something that was unmistakably Alfred. The acolyte scowled up at the ceiling before turning away from the hearth, thankful that it was so dark it’d be impossible to see the redness of his face. Across the hearth, he heard a quiet chuckle before Alfred too settled down for the night. The rushes were just the right amount of firm, the blanket and hearth were warm, and the makeshift pillow was just right. Exhaustion swept upon him and Arthur buried his face in that familiar scent and knew nothing more.
“There’s no Third Order Covent at this village?” Arthur looked down to check his boots. They were clean, free of any dirt. He’d spelled them earlier that morning while waiting for Alfred and Sunlight to tack up. Sunlight had huffed and tossed his head at the knight. Last night was the best sleep he’d had in a long time. Traveling from place to place was more tiring than he expected, mentally and physically. Now, Alfred was back in his gambeson, laces tight and neat. Arthur realized he was staring and quickly looked away, thankful that Alfred was walking in front so he wouldn’t notice.
The other man kicked a loose rock out of the path. “Not the one we’re going to, no. Just the First Order.”
Arthur hummed and adjusted his satchel. His legs were sore but he somehow felt lighter today, like something had lifted. Briefly he wondered if it was the distance from Hazelbridge that was causing it, but dismissed it as silly. He still missed his village and knew that being any distance away wasn’t going to make him feel any differently. “Not even a mage or two?”
Alfred gauged the position of the sun as he walked. “Maybe? When I passed through last time they had a visiting mage from a neighbouring Covent. I’m not sure if there’ll be one today.” He craned his head back to make a face at Arthur. “What, are you getting tired of us non-magical folk already?”
The mage rolled his eyes. “I just think it’s odd for there to not be any mages at all.”
“But Willowbrook doesn’t have a Covent either.” Alfred reached up to scratch Sunlight’s ear.
Arthur mulled it over. “But we service them. We regularly send a mage out to provide any services they might need.”
Alfred looked at him with a quirk in his lips. “And the village we’re going to is the same. It’s serviced by a neighbouring Covent. It’s like Hazelbridge, but instead of a Covent it has a First Order outpost. That’s all.”
Arthur pulled his hood up to block out the sun’s glare and furrowed his brows. “I know that, it’s just… I don’t know. Forget it.” He huffed and looked away, forcing himself to not stomp in agitation.
The knight stopped walking completely and turned to him. “Are you worried that they won’t be used to seeing an unfamiliar mage? Remember, they’ve seen mages before so it’s not a big deal. And if anything happens, I’m the ranking officer. I’ll pull rank for you, Arthur.” He winked cheekily.
Indignation ran through Arthur. “I hope that wasn’t what you’ve been doing for the past three months.”
Alfred widened his eyes. “No, of course not! I got along really well with the guys in Hazelbridge. You know I wouldn’t do that, right?”
Arthur sighed and shooed him forward. “Fine, fine. I believe you. Keep walking, I don’t want to be out in the wilderness any more than I need to be.”
Alfred smile brightly and saluted jauntily. “Yes sir!”
They arrived at the village just before evening. The gate was manned by a knight and one of the village guard. Noticing Alfred’s First Order sword, the knight saluted. “Name and rank, and for your companion.”
Alfred returned the salute. “Third Sub-Captain Alfred of the Third Company, with Acolyte Arthur of Hazelbridge.”
The knight straightened in surprise. “Sub-Captain! Welcome to Clearwater. To what do we owe the honour?”
Alfred gestured for him the stand down. “No need to be so formal. We’re here for an inspection as ordered by the High Captain. But don’t worry, it’ll be quick. We just need to check in at the Garrison.”
The knight dipped his head. “Yes sir. If you keep following the main road you’ll see it.” He nodded at his partner and they stepped aside, allowing Alfred and Arthur through.
Once they were in, Arthur shook his head. “If this is how you were greeted at the gate, I don’t understand how no one back home found out you were a ranking officer.”
Alfred chuckled. “I was very, very insistent that they drop formalities. The thought of an entire village calling me Sub-Captain day in and day out was not appealing to me.”
“Still,” Arthur crossed his arms. “You’d think one of the knights would’ve let it slip. Three whole months. I can’t believe it.”
Alfred made a long drawn-out sound. “Well, I might’ve also told the guys I was lying low for a bit, so that was probably why? They’re very loyal, let me tell you.”
Arthur sent him a look. “For a knight, you’re quite devious.”
The knight sent him a sly grin. “Sometimes you need to bend the truth a little.”
Arthur shook his head at him and sighed.
Located at the edge of Clearwater, the Garrison was a set of small buildings with the First Order’s emblem painted onto the doors and outer walls. There was a courtyard in front that doubled as a training field, enclosed with a fence and bordered by the barracks on one side. The Commander of the Garrison was waiting for them, having already been notified by a runner of their approach.
The knight saluted sharply. “Sub-Captain! Welcome to Clearwater. Commander Samuel at your service.”
Alfred returned the gesture. “At ease, Commander. As I’m sure you’ve been told, we’re here on orders of the High-Captain.” He pulled a letter from his pouch and handed it to the Commander. “In writing.” Waving off the Commander’s look of alarm, Alfred smiled reassuringly. “No need to panic. It’s just a quick inspection and then my aide and I will be gone by tomorrow.”
The Commander nodded, still a bit frazzled. “Yes, sir. Of course. We’ll get rooms set up for you both. When will the inspection start?”
Alfred listened to the Garrison bell announce the evening hour. He smiled and looked at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. “I’m thinking after supper.” He paused. “Oh, I’d appreciate it if you put our rooms next to each other. It wouldn’t do to have my aide too far from me.”
Samuel saluted again. “Yes, sir. It’ll be done.”
They were shown to their rooms. Arthur stood inside his, unsure as to what he was supposed to be doing. Because of Alfred, they were given officers’ quarters instead of being put up in the regular guest rooms. The furnishings reflected that status. The chest was made of carved oak. The table and stool were equally embellished. The bedstead was stacked with two mattresses, each stuffed with wool, and the blanket was fine wool. He was about to examine the bed more when a knock came at the door. Alfred was on the other side.
“Hey.” Alfred smiled at him. “Mind if I come in?”
Arthur stepped back to give him room. “Is it suppertime already?”
The knight was not wearing his sword. He glanced around briefly before focusing his warm gaze on Arthur. “It is. I told the Commander we’ll go down when we’re ready, so we shouldn’t be bothered until we get to the mess hall.” The corners of his lips curled. “Do you like your room? These are only available to ranking officers and their guests.”
“I thought I was your aide.” Arthur looked up at him, noting the spark of amusement in his blue eyes. “You’re telling me you could’ve had a room like this the entire time you were stationed with us and you picked a standard room? Alfred, this bed has two woolen mattresses. I’m pretty sure the pillow is feather. The bedsheet quality is better than what you had.”
Alfred shrugged nonchalantly. “I liked my room. And like I said, I’m used to roughing it, unlike someone I know.” He winked and squeezed Arthur’s elbow. Hand lingering, Alfred leaned in, voice very warm. “You slept really well last night. I’m glad my gambeson could be of service.”
Arthur spluttered and cursed his pale skin for blushing so easily. “I was tired from all the walking! Of course I’d sleep well! Did you come in here just to talk about beds or was there something else?”
The curl in Alfred’s lips deepened. “But you’re the one who was into the quality of the bed and everything, Arthur.” He laughed at the mage’s indignant noises, sliding his hand down to take his hand. “Anyway, if you’re ready, we should go down for supper. It won’t look good if the Sub-Captain is too late.” He chuckled ruefully.
The warmth of Alfred’s palm was soothing. Arthur blinked up at the man. “Are those knights going to be like this the entire time we’re here?”
Alfred sighed. “Yeah. They don’t know me so they’re going to be on their best behaviour, which means all the formalities. Sub-Captain this and Sir that.” He straightened. “They’ll all be focused on me, so they should leave you alone. Hopefully. Unless you want to talk to them.” At Arthur’s hesitance, he squeezed his hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want. Inspection’s after supper. I’ll try to make it quick, but we might not be done until after dark. You’re okay to put up some lights for us?”
Arthur nodded. “Of course.”
“Great.” The knight swung their hands absent-mindedly. “Either way, there isn’t much for you to do.”
Arthur found himself smiling at Alfred for no reason. “Yes, sir. Shall we head down to supper then, Sub-Captain?” He snickered at Alfred’s horrified expression.
His companion groaned. “Please, not you too.”
Surprisingly, supper wasn’t as uncomfortable as Arthur had expected. Probably because there weren’t that many people in the mess hall at the time. The Garrison was small, but only because it didn’t host any trainees. Arthur’s Covent seemed much bigger in hindsight, with its assortment of Ascended and acolyte mages. Some of the knights were out on patrol and a couple were visiting neighbouring villages.
There was no mage at the Garrison today, the Commander had replied when Alfred asked. The schedule was once a week, and a mage wouldn’t be coming in for another few days. Arthur still found it odd to be the only mage amongst knights. For most of his life he’d been surrounded by other mages and the villagers and staff associated with the Covent. The knights were always seen as part of the Covent and so he was never bothered.
Someone’s boot nudged his foot and he looked up to see Alfred watching him. Arthur realized he’d been staring into his pottage for too long, his spoon hovering uselessly just above the bowl. Hurriedly, he shoved a spoonful into his mouth. Apparently satisfied, Alfred turned back to his own pottage.
After supper, they returned to their rooms, Alfred to collect his sword and Arthur his satchel. A pitcher of water and linen had been placed in his room, and Arthur considered them briefly before making use of them. He checked his writing tools over, and satisfied with their condition, headed for Alfred’s room. The door was open, revealing the man at his table, splashing his face with water from the provided pitcher. His sword lay sheathed on the bed.
Alfred squinted at him through wet eyelashes. “Just give me a moment. I need to look presentable.”
Arthur stopped himself before he said anything potentially embarrassing. He watched as the man dried his face with a linen cloth. “Working hard there, Sub-Captain.”
Alfred cringed. “Gods, Arthur. You’d think I’d be used to all the titles by now.” He sighed gustily before looking Arthur over. “You look neat and tidy.”
“You’re not the only one who did some washing up.” Deciding the other man was taking too long, Arthur went and sat on the bed. The sword shifted with his weight, drawing his attention. The spellwork looked like it was updated just a few days before. “Who put that anti-theft spell on your sword before you transferred out?”
Alfred looked at him while combing his hair. “Oh, that? I get Matt to do all my spells back home.”
Arthur considered asking him about the hex that was hidden under the original spell, but Alfred, done with his hair, grabbed the sword and secured it to his belt. He held his arms out to the side and grinned crookedly. “Well, how do I look?”
Arthur smiled. “You look just fine.”
Alfred slapped his hand on the sword hilt. “Coming from you that’s high praise.” He extended the other hand, palm up, and winked. “Shall we?”
The smile on Arthur’s face widened of its own accord. “Very well. Lead the way then.” Taking Alfred’s hand, he let the man pull him effortlessly to his feet.
They met Craig in the great hall. Arthur took out his wax tablet and stylus and tried to look engaged as the man started talking about how the place was run. By the time they got to the training field, he was about to crawl out of his skin with boredom. It wasn’t that Arthur didn’t find any of it interesting. He did, but it was a very detached sort of interest. Very, very detached. Trying to look like he was still paying attention, Arthur scribbled some notes down with scribal abbreviations. He tried to relate it all to copying a manuscript. It was similar, in that he had to digest material that sometimes was of no interest to him. But he was never bored with scribal work. If he was, he wouldn’t be a scribe. But this was a new level of boredom altogether. Arthur couldn’t understand why patrol scheduling and practice and equipment stores weren’t keeping his attention.
He glanced at Alfred to see the man nodding along, completely serious and absorbed. That was another thing. He was always fine with listening to the minutiae of First Order workings when Alfred was telling him about it.
Oh.
Arthur ducked his head down and stared wide eyed at his tablet. He briefly considered pulling his hood up to block his face from view, but that would only make him look suspicious. Thankfully neither Alfred nor the Commander were looking at him. Scrawling a meaningless symbol on the tablet, he tried to relax his tense shoulders.
Sneaking another glance, he was caught by the sight of Alfred’s face in profile. Forehead slightly furrowed in concentration, his focused eyes, stately blue in the dimming light, and the dark blond eyelashes that framed them. His nose was tall and his lips were neither too wide nor too thin. Alfred’s hair was burnished gold in the evening sun, sleek and smooth. And his ever present cowlick, curled in the air like it was a being unto itself.
Arthur realized he was staring at the firmness of Alfred’s jaw and neck for too long and turned back to his tablet. He made a face at himself. The boredom must really be getting to him for him to think such things. He scribbled another symbol down, trying in vain to ignore the warmth of his cheeks.
The Garrison bell rang and Arthur jolted. Officially, it was the end of the day, daylight fading into twilight. The courtyard was cast in shadow. At the edges of the courtyard a servant lit the lamps, each one a small glowing pinprick in the encroaching darkness. At the entrance, the guard rotation changed over. Another pair with glowing lamps swinging in their hands came out and turned in the direction of the village; it was the beginning of the night patrol.
There was a light touch to his elbow and Arthur turned back to see Alfred watching him. Even in the weak light he could pick out the blue of Alfred’s eyes, dark as twilight. The shape of his mouth was curled into something a touch too tender.
“Care to give us some light?” Alfred’s voice was warm and quiet, matching the curve of his lips.
Distantly, Arthur wondered what they looked like to the Commander, before dismissing the thought. He stuffed his tablet and stylus back in his satchel before cupping his hands together. A little bit of concentration, and the space in between grew brighter and brighter until a small ball of light hovered in his palms. Holding it in one hand, he ran his other hand over the glow, watching as magic diffused and sank into the ball. With a gentle push, the light expanded, floating up until it hung above their heads, casting the surrounding area in a soft pale glow.
Alfred shook his head and smiled, impressed by something so simple.
The inspection didn’t last much longer after that, ending back at the barracks. They got the full tour of the building, from the servants’ rooms all the way to the officers’ quarters, where their rooms were assigned. Arthur had to adjust his light so it shone dimmer and smaller, less intrusive indoors.
After the Commander bade them goodnight, they found themselves back in Alfred’s room. The man himself unclipped his sword and collapsed face first onto the bed with a groan. Arthur let the light float to the ceiling before sitting down on the stool. He looked at Alfred’s unmoving form before prodding him in the calf. “Are you going to stay like that?”
Alfred mumbled something incomprehensible into the blanket.
Arthur’s lips quirked up. “No magic in the world’s going to make that understandable, Alfred.”
Rolling over with a heaving sigh, Alfred squinted blearily at him. “That was exhausting. I can’t believe we have to do this for three more villages.”
“You seemed really invested though.” Arthur crossed one leg over the other. “You were concentrating really hard and nodded in all the right places. You even had in-depth discussions with the Commander.” He grinned teasingly.
Alfred grimaced. “I had to be. He was so eager about the whole thing I couldn’t do anything but go along with it. And tomorrow morning I need to get some paperwork done before we can leave.” He turned onto his side so he was facing Arthur. “What’d you write on that tablet of yours anyway? I saw you scribbling some stuff down.”
The mage looked away in embarrassment. “Nothing of any substance. I’m sorry to say I wasn’t paying much attention at all.”
Alfred made a grabbing motion with his hand. “Come on, let me see.”
Sighing, Arthur dug the tablet out and handed it over.
Alfred read over his scribbles, tablet tilted so enough light hit the writing surface. He was silent as his eyes roamed over the wax, but soon his shoulders shook and he rolled onto his stomach, laughing into the mattress.
Arthur scowled and swatted the knight’s leg. “Don’t laugh. I honestly tried my best.”
Alfred turned his face so it was free of the mattress. Snickering, he held the tablet out for Arthur to take back. “Yeah, I can see you were working really hard.” He smiled, relaxed and calm. “Don’t worry, I’m doing the final paperwork anyway, so you can doodle as much as you want.”
“Those weren’t doodles!” The mage hunched his shoulders. “As expected of someone who can’t read abbreviations.” He sniffed and tucked the tablet away. “It’s getting late. Shouldn’t we be getting ready for bed?”
Alfred turned onto his side and propped his head up with the heel of his palm. “We should.” He paused, as if waiting for Arthur to do something. Finally, he raised an eyebrow and grinned, slow and wide. “Do you not like your room? If you don’t, I definitely don’t mind sharing.”
Arthur blinked at him blankly before understanding filtered through to him. He stood so fast the stool nearly toppled over. Trying to keep his voice at a respectable volume, he pointed at the knight. “That was highly inappropriate! I like my room just fine, and I am going now. Good night. Why are you looking at me like that?!”
Chuckling, Alfred shook his head. “No reason. Good night, Arthur.” The corners of his eyes were crinkled and his voice was warm.
Face positively burning, Arthur spun around and marched out the door, belatedly remembering the light he left inside. Sticking his head back in without looking at Alfred, he retrieved the light before stalking back to his room. Alfred would be fine; their rooms were fitted with lamps that were spelled to activate when it was dark enough. He extinguished his light and quickly washed up. The bed was indeed as comfortable as he expected, and it was warm and cozy. With a twitch of the finger, he extinguished the spelled lamp and buried his face into the pillow.
He didn’t fall asleep for a long time.
Arthur was hot, tired, and his body ached. They’d been through four more villages since Clearwater, three of which housed Garrisons. In the beginning he didn’t think much of traveling, but walking from morning to evening on rough roads, even with plenty of breaks, was hard on a body unaccustomed to constant travel. And there was that one night where they had to camp out in the wilderness because somehow there were no houses nearby for them to lodge with. There were things Arthur already knew, like how to take care of a horse, how to gather firewood and start a fire manually, and how to forage for food. Alfred had to teach him everything else, from scouting out a good campsite to safety. Thankfully it didn’t rain that night.
The sun was warm and there was little wind. He considered hiking up his sleeves, but he knew he’d burn if he tried it. So he was fully covered with his hood up, hiding his face from the sun. Even though his robes were light wool, it was still stuffy. In comparison, Alfred in his gambeson looked like he was in the middle of a cool spring day. Arthur adjusted his hood and tried to ignore the tightness in his legs. “Are you not hot in that gambeson?”
Alfred shrugged. “I am, but I’m used to it. We normally train with our full gear, so this isn’t the worst.” He looked over at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. “Try doing drills or full day marches in full armour in muggy weather under the full sun. Now that’s hot.”
Arthur sighed and tried to fan himself with his wide sleeves. “You make me feel like some spoiled child whenever you mention training. Very well, I’ll stop complaining.”
The knight watched his sad attempt at cooling down with amusement. “Don’t stop on my account. I want to be the first one to hear the narration of the struggles of land travel by Arthur, mage of Hazelbridge.”
“And make fun of me for it?” Arthur rolled his eyes, finally giving up on cooling down. The path they were on was dusty and poorly kept, meaning he had to work his stiff and heavy legs harder in order to not trip over himself.
Alfred smiled in sympathy at his struggle. “Do you need a break? You look like you need one. Or do you want to ride on Sunlight?”
Arthur huffed and instantly regretted it, tasting dust on his tongue. “No, I’m fine. We had a break just a while ago.”
“Well, let me know if you want a ride on Sunlight, okay? He won’t mind at all.” Alfred patted his horse’s neck before looking over at Arthur when he received no response. “Arthur? What is it?”
The mage stared at a farmhouse in the near distance, aching legs seemingly forgotten. “That house. There’s something…off.”
Alfred looked. Unfortunately for him and anyone who wasn’t someone like Arthur, all he saw was a small farmhouse, plain and simple. The field closest to the house lay fallow and the next field over was green with growing wheat. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He looked at the way Arthur’s eyes focused on something that wasn’t there, brows slightly wrinkled. “What do you see?”
Arthur tensed his shoulders. “I don’t see anything. That’s the problem. I feel like I should see something, but I don’t.”
Alfred looked between him and the house. “We’ll pass by it. Should we take a look?”
Arthur’s lips turned down. “I suppose so, since it’s on the way.”
The closer they got to the farmhouse, the more uncomfortable Arthur felt. Unconsciously, he moved closer to his companion. The house looked like any other farmhouse, but something was off, and Arthur couldn’t put his finger on it. It felt like he should be seeing magic at work, but there were no visible sigils and nothing was glowing. Arthur gripped the strap of his satchel tight.
Alfred spoke quietly. “Can you see any animals? Because I don’t. They don’t look that badly off, so they should have some poultry at least. But nothing.”
Arthur tightened his grip. “I can’t hear any birds or other animals.”
As they approached, the woman tending the house’s small garden stopped to watch them. She wasn’t thin, but looked fatigued, like she hadn’t had a good day in a long time. The woman eyed them until she noticed Alfred’s arming sword, then she dipped into a curtsy.
Alfred raised a hand in greeting and called out, voice jolly. “Good day to you there!”
The woman curtsied again. “Good day to you, sirs.”
Alfred’s posture was loose and relaxed as he slowed to a stop. “Is it true we’ll reach the village of Roundstone if we follow this road?”
“Yes sir.” The woman pointed in the direction they were heading in. “You keep going and eventually you’ll come across it. It’s about half a day’s walk, less if you ride.” She nodded at Sunlight, eyes flicking to Arthur’s robes briefly.
Arthur looked at her and the same feeling of unease came over him. Whatever was wrong with the house also extended to the woman. He turned away, focusing instead on Sunlight’s tack.
Alfred smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you. Have a good day.”
They were barely past the house when the woman’s voice called out behind them. “Wait, please!” She gestured at Arthur. “You’re a mage, aren’t you? Only mages wear robes like yours.”
Arthur nodded cautiously. “That’s right.”
The woman wrung her hands in her apron before sighing. “Please, I have a favour to ask of you. Will you spare a bit of time? I’ll fetch my husband from the field.”
The mage and knight shared a glance before following the woman. She guided them to sit on a bench in the yard before heading off toward the fields.
Alfred rubbed Sunlight’s muzzle. “Looks like you’re right. That goodwife wants your help with something.”
Arthur grimaced. “I’d rather be wrong than deal with this. Whatever’s going on here is giving off a really unpleasant feeling.”
The knight pressed their shoulders together briefly. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”
Soon enough, the woman returned with her husband. The farmer, upon seeing the two travelers, made a gesture of gratitude and bowed. “Praise the Gods! A mage and a knight! My wife and I thank you for giving us your time, kind sirs.”
Arthur dipped his head in response. Seeing that he wasn’t saying anything, Alfred spoke up. “What seems to be the matter here, master farmer?”
The farmer sighed deeply and shared a look with his wife. “It’s a long story, but simply put, soon after my dear Gertrude and I married, our household was cursed. It’s been fifteen years and we’ve been unable to have children. And you must’ve noticed the lack of animals on the farm. The same curse made it impossible for the livestock to produce. We had to sell them off and had to get by with just our crops ever since.”
The mage frowned. “Did you try having it removed? Surely I’m not the first mage you’ve come across in these fifteen years.”
Gertrude shrugged, shoulders weary. “We tried the local mages, and even some Covents further out. They all said there was a curse, but it couldn’t be broken. We were told it should fade over time, but it’s been fifteen years. William here still holds hope, but I’ve mostly given up.”
The furrow between Arthur’s eyebrows deepened. “That’s impossible. No magic has that kind of staying power.” He considered the couple. “How were you cursed?”
“We were just recently wed when a traveling mage passed by.” William wiped his forehead. “You’d think we’d remember the woman’s face, but we can’t. We can’t even remember why she cursed us in the first place. All we know is that the next morning all our pregnant livestock miscarried, and soon after that we found out we were barren.”
Arthur looked at Alfred before turning to the wife. “Do you know where the curse was placed? The two of you are affected but I don’t think it was cast on you.”
Gertrude covered her mouth. “You’re much faster than all the other ones.” She looked at her husband with wide eyes. “William, there might be hope after all.”
The farmer placed an arm around her shoulders. “I told you to keep believing.” Turning back to Arthur, William shook his head. “We have no idea, sir, nor did any of the mages we consulted. All we were told was that this property and everyone on it were affected.”
Arthur tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Will you let me take a look then? Starting with the house.”
The one room wattle and daub house was plain but well kept. The hearth was lit, upon which sat bubbling pottage. The space was sparsely furnished, with only two small tables and two chairs, all wooden. A grain ark sat against a wall. From the walls and rafters hung various vegetables and tools. Crockery adorned the shelves. All in all, it was a very normal home.
Arthur turned in place, looking at everything within view. Stepping outside again, he patted Sunlight and made a slow circle around the house. Nothing was out of place. Even the thatched roof looked to be in good condition. But that feeling remained. The mage pursed his lips and reentered the house. Alfred followed along, watching with great curiosity.
The rush flooring rustled beneath his feet and Arthur stopped in his tracks. Like most homes, this one used bundles of rushes to carpet the hard ground the house was built on. The rushes beneath his feet were on the drier side and faded to a pale gold, from last year’s harvest.
“Has anyone checked the floor?” He asked the couple.
They gawked at him blankly for a moment before their faces paled. Soon enough, the rushes and furniture were moved out of the way, and Arthur stood in the doorway and stared wide eyed at the earthen floor.
Alfred’s arm was warm against his own. “What is it?” The man’s voice was quiet.
Arthur took a deep breath. “Sigils. All over the floor. They’re barely faded. The mage that cast this must’ve been very powerful.”
The knight gripped his scabbard. “Can it be broken?”
Arthur looked away from the glowing sigils. “I can try, but no guarantees. It’s powerful magic, but if I can find even the smallest crack then there’s a chance.” He turned to address William and Gertrude. “I’ll try to see if I can do anything about this. It might take a while, so you can go back to your tasks if you want. I’ll need the door closed, so please don’t mind us.”
Once the couple was back outside and the door shut, Arthur grimaced. “I really don’t know, Alfred. I don’t make a habit of breaking curses.”
Alfred bumped their fingers together. “But you’ve learned about it, haven’t you? I have a very good source that said it’s required learning. It might not be one of the first things you guys learn, but it’s definitely in the teachings.”
Arthur gave him a look even as he brushed his fingertips against Alfred’s palm. “Are you being cheeky with me while we’re standing next to a very powerful curse?”
The knight winked. “Isn’t that the best time to be cheeky?” He gestured. “How long do you think this will take?”
Arthur begrudgingly looked at the sigils again. “Depends on how complex it is. If you’re bored you can go keep Sunlight company.”
Alfred gripped his hand firmly. “I’ll never be bored. No matter how many times I have to say it, I’ll never be bored with you.”
The mage looked away, face warm. He cleared his throat primly. “I suppose I should get started then?”
For a regular mage, there were several methods to removing a curse. The mage could try a counter spell, a cleansing ritual, or a blessing more powerful than the curse. A mage with the Sight was a different matter. Being able to See the construction of a curse, or any spell, meant the mage could, if they were skilled enough, deconstruct or alter the spell itself. Depending on the intricacy and power present in the spell, the length of time required could vary wildly. And that’s what Arthur would have to do.
He stepped further into the house, head bent as he examined each sigil. He moved from wall to wall, corner to corner, until he ended at the hearth. Arthur straightened his back once he read the final sigil. Surveying the entire floor one more time and running through all the sigils he saw confirmed the purpose of the curse. Arthur turned to Alfred. “It’s a curse against the formation of any and all new animal life. Any mage should be able to identify it, but the way it was constructed… Whoever cast this was a Seeing mage.”
Alfred frowned. “A Seeing mage did this? Someone this powerful would’ve been noticed by the Inner City.” Frowning harder, he muttered, almost to himself. “Fifteen years…”
“Alfred, what is it?” Arthur turned to his companion, glad to look away from the glowing curse.
The knight shook his head, still frowning. “I’m not sure. It sounded familiar, but I can’t place it.”
Arthur looked up to the rafters to give his eyes a rest. “Well, now that we know what the curse is, I can work on removing it. That’s the hard part.”
Alfred nodded. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Arthur smiled faintly at him before looking back down at the floor. Moving to the center of the room, he took in a deep breath, then opened his senses to the curse. Spells with ill intentions were never pleasant to deal with, and this was no exception. The power and the nature of the curse made Arthur’s skin crawl. The sigils themselves were hard to look at, their glow stinging his eyes, making them water. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed through the discomfort before opening them again. Visually and physically following the spell’s path, he considered each sigil by itself and in relation to its neighbours.
The change was so miniscule that he nearly dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. Arthur didn’t dare blink lest he lose sight of it. Kneeling down, he slowly extended a hand, feeling the shape of the spell. It was like a hairline fracture in a retaining wall, waiting for something to pry it apart and widen the gap. Arthur considered the spell’s language before tracing his own sigil into that crack. His own magic was a welcome and familiar sight, and he watched as the curse gave the faintest of ripples. That section done, he stood up and continued following the path. The next crack was easier to find, and knowing what he wanted the sigils to say made the work faster.
Back near the hearth again, he drew out the last sigil, and the fire blew out. The windows let in enough light, but for Arthur it felt like the world had suddenly gone dark. He eventually blinked past the spots in his vision. The floor was bare dirt again, without sigils of any sort, familiar or foreign. There was no supernatural glow. Arthur held out a hand to Alfred and let the knight pull him to his feet. “I think we’re done. The curse is broken.”
Alfred clicked his tongue, holding onto Arthur’s arms to stabilize him. “That was some show. I’ve never seen anyone perform magic like that before, and I know a lot of mages.”
Arthur hummed, leaning into the warmth. “You wanted a show, and you got one, I guess.” He unconsciously rested his head against Alfred’s shoulder. “I think I might need a ride on Sunlight after all.”
Looping an arm around his back, Alfred coaxed the mage to lean more of his weight on him. “Sunlight would be more than happy to hear that. I think you were at it for almost an hour. No wonder you’re tired.” They stood in silence before Alfred cocked his head. “Do you hear birds?”
The mage made a drowsy sound. “That’s a good sign. It means the curse really is gone. We should probably let William and Gertrude know.” Alfred’s warmth and scent surrounded him, a soothing balm upon his overtaxed senses, but Arthur knew he couldn’t just stay there all day. Pulling away was harder than he expected. The light from the windows pierced his skull and he grimaced. Waving off Alfred’s concern, he stood straight. “Well then, shall we?”
Going outside was like stepping into a completely different world. It was cloudy but the sun still filtered through and blue sky peeked through the gaps. Sunlight whuffled at them in greeting by the fence. A flock of birds flew overhead, singing away.
Gertrude looked up from doing the mending, standing when she realized it was them. “Oh, sirs! Let me get my husband.”
By the time they both came back, Arthur was much steadier on his feet.
“What news, sir?” William asked.
Arthur smoothed out his robes. “The curse is gone. You should be able to keep livestock again and try for a child if you wish. See the birds flying about? They’ve sensed the magic’s gone so they’re not scared anymore.”
Gertrude covered her mouth and shared a watery look with her husband. “Oh, thank you so much, master mage!”
William wiped at his eyes and bowed deeply. “This is most astonishing. We don’t have much, but let us repay you somehow.”
“All I need is some ale, if you can spare it.” Arthur nodded in thanks and sat heavily on the bench.
Once the ale was drunk and the rushes and furniture replaced, they were off on their way again. Arthur swayed with Sunlight’s gait and watched as fields of wheat and barley rippled in the wind. Turning from the idyllic view, he focused on the blond head in front of him. “Have you not seen a Seeing mage do magic before?”
Alfred turned to look up at him, Sunlight’s lead in in hand. “More that I’ve never seen a Seeing mage deconstruct a spell before. Because that’s what you were doing, right? Deconstructing the curse. It’s completely different from how a regular mage does it.”
Arthur patted Sunlight’s neck. “I’m impressed. You could be an honorary mage if you wanted.” He sat tall but flexible in the saddle. “I can’t really speak for other mages with the same constitution, but this is how I work. It makes sense to me.”
Alfred nodded slowly. “Mattie mentioned that once, that it’s best to cast in a way that works for you. You learn the basics but eventually you tailor it to your own preferences. Each mage ends up with their own personal style.”
Arthur tipped his head to the side. “To an extent. If you deviate too much from the basic formula then the nature of the spell would change and you’d get something completely different.” He gave Alfred a look. “Your brother must’ve taught you a lot. You could probably give a lecture on magical theory and no one would be the wiser.”
The knight laughed. “No way! I’m just repeating what Matt told me.” He poked Arthur’s leg. “You, on the other hand, are a veritable scholar.”
Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes. “Please. I’m just an acolyte.”
Alfred was quiet before looking back at him again. “I think you’re underestimating yourself too much. The way you dealt with that curse back there? That was the single most impressive thing I’ve seen in my life.” He winked. “And I’m an Inner City Sub-Captain, you know. I’ve seen all sorts of fancy things and people.”
The mage chuckled indulgently. “Alright then, Sub-Captain. I’ll take your word for it.”
Alfred smiled but the look in his eyes was something Arthur couldn’t decipher.