Give it a rest, love

“So, tell me. You says these wind powers or whatever can make me fly, yeah?”

“That’s right.”

“So why on gods green feckin’ Earth are we travellin’ 200 bloody miles on foot?”

“You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you?” Court sighed dramatically, as if it wasn’t a completely reasonable question. “Most wind users can fly for 20 seconds at most while unladen. Because of your natural power you might be able to push it to a minute, but by the end of that minute you’d be panting like a dog. Not to mention the elephant in the room.”

“What room? We’re outdoors.”

“That’s your question? What room? Not ‘what elephant?’”

“If I had to ask ‘what elephant’ it wouldn’t be the elephant in the room, would it?”

I suppose it was pretty obvious in hindsight. Court wasn’t a wind user. In other words, only I could fly. I had supposed it would be possible for me to carry her, considering she was still thin as a bloody twig, but considering she specified “unladen” I guess that assumption was wrong. I feel falsely advertised to. Give me fire or some shit, wind sucks.

Well, it’s not like I minded a good walk, to be fair. Help me burn some of the fat I had just put on with that massive bloody meal the old innkeep lad gave me. Need me lungs in good condition if I’m gonna be yelling “come on England!” all the way through to the finals this year.

Of course, that’s not actually gonna happen, but if there’s one thing we English are good at it’s pretending we have hope.

With that in mind, on we plodded, into the steadily setting sun. Or, perpendicular to the steadily setting sun, since we was moving north. Don’t roll off the tongue quite so well, does it? “Let’s ride off tangential to the sunset.” Makes you sound like a right wanker. Should have had whichever element goes west instead.

…alright, I’m officially bored of walking.

“Oi, Court, this whole ‘trial’ thing, it’s gonna test me on how good I am with this wind magic shite, yeah?”

“Yes, it’s a test that only you have the innate power to complete.”

“Well considering I ain’t so much as used a mild feckin’ breeze, shouldn’t I actually train a bit before we go off to the most important test of me life or whatever?”

“Of course, you’re gonna have to train. That should be obvious.”

“Then what are we wasting time for? We’s just ‘avin’ a merry ol’ stroll, why not actually train in the meantime?”

“Are you an idiot? I said not two minutes ago that overusing magic will wear you out. Do you want this journey to take twice as long?”

“That whole monologue only skipped two minutes of walking?! Bloody hell, I get bored quickly.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be a very long journey.” Chill out with the dramatic sighs, love. At this rate the audience is gonna think the author just doesn’t know any other ways of expressing emotion. “It’s been a long day and I need to rest just as much as you need to train, so we’ll set up camp soon. You’re new to magic, so you’re gonna burn through energy quickly. You do it right before bed, you’ll be conked out in no time. Do it while we’re still walking, you’ll be face down on the gravel before you can say ‘I should have listened to Court when I had the chance.’ Understand me?”

“Glad to hear you’ve accepted your new name with gusto. Good on you, love.”

“I should have stayed a slave.” Seriously, love, pack it in with the sighs or this is gonna be a long year. “It’s been a long day and the sun’s already starting to set. Let’s just set up camp and turn in for the night.”

“When the hell did we buy food and camping shite?”

“In the chapter transition, obviously.”

“A chapter gap can skip an entire shopping trip but my whole rant didn’t even jump two minutes?! Load of bollocks!”

“Are you gonna stand around complaining, or are you gonna set up the tent? You might not have noticed but I’m not exactly the picture of strength and physical ability right now.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get to it already,” I grumbled, stepping off to the side of the road with Court and dropping the bag of camping gear. One good meal and a decent drink and she’s already out-snarking me. Maybe I should have swapped with Darcy when I had the chance, I reckon that Jimmy lad gives less backtalk.

Then again, I guess it’s more entertaining this way.

Court sat down on the side of the road while I fumbled around with the shite in the bag. The “tent” was really just some long sticks and a glorified tarp, which I suppose is all I can expect from a country that’s even less technologically advanced than Wales. There was also some shite called Infinite Firewood that can apparently burn forever unless put out, which sounds grand, but what we don’t have is a way to light the feckin’ thing.

A magic item that means we don’t have to collect tinder for a fire, but not one to light a fire. This world must be filled with pillocks.

“I’ll have a wander into the trees, find summat to start a fire with. You gonna sit tight there for now?” I said, chucking down the firewood that wasn’t on feckin’ fire.

“Yes… I think I need a break from moving…” replied Court, who unsurprisingly looked pretty exhausted. Dunno how those noble wankers expected us to make it a three week’s walk with our apparent guides on the verge of bloody starving. Poor girl’s been ringing death’s doorbell for a long bloody time, by the looks of it.

I wandered off into the woods off the side of the road and started looking for sticks that could start a fire. First moment of silence I’d had since the gold tosspots dragged me here a few hours earlier. Started thinking about how bloody mental this whole situation was. Being yanked from the real world to some fantasy shtick with magic and dragons and all that other shite only happens in Alice in feckin’ wonderland, not real life. Let alone when the place you get dragged to is a complete shithole.

Don’t get me wrong, old Blighty has it’s fair share of problems, but if the house of bloody commons was handing out slaves like halloween sweets, I reckon they’d get a Guy Fawkes visit within the fortnight. This place, though? Not an ounce of respect for anything or anyone but themselves.

Christ. Never thought I’d miss Tory and Labour.

Come to think of it, Court was holding up far too well for a lass who’s just been freed from the ball and chain. That sort of thing would fuck the average person up so hard you wouldn’t expect them to even talk for a week, but she’s already returning patter like a proper Englishman. Good on the lass for holding it together, I suppose. Most would crumble under that weight.

Only took a bit more searching for me to find a pair of sticks that seemed ideal for the job. Good thing me old mum forced me to join the cub scouts as a wee lad, otherwise I’d be shite out of luck. With that all done and dusted, I turned around and made me way back to the camp.

“Oi, Court, what we cookin’ tonight? I imagine that beefs gonna spoi- oh. You alright, love?”

“...no.”

The poor girl was sat under the tent with her knees to her chest, her hands wrapped tightly around her legs, and an empty look on her face. She wasn’t crying. Just… sort of… staring off into space, a practically flat expression.

She had seemed a lot more lively since eating at the inn, so I hadn’t thought much about it, but Court’s face was gaunt and sickly. Her eyes and cheeks both looked sunken in, and her complexion was completely pale. I had noticed her walking particularly slowly since we left the city, and I had assumed her legs were just tired, but looking at her now it seemed more like there was just not enough energy left in her body to keep moving. To be frank, it was a wonder she never collapsed. Though, I had a feeling her expression wasn’t so much to do with how she was feeling physically.

“Memories started to spring back?” I asked, taking a seat next to her and mindlessly spinning one stick against the other to start a fire.

“No… not really. I don’t really remember anything from before I was taken. And for the time after that… I guess the armbands impede memory or something. It all seems blurry, like it wasn’t even real.”

“Hmm? Then whatcha mopin’ about?”

“...what?”

“Well, if you don’t remember where you was before it all, you don’t know what you’s missin’, right? And if you hardly remember the shite afterwards, what’s the point thinkin’ about it? You got a new lease on life now, aintcha? There ain’t a bloody thing worth lookin’ back on, so might as well just look ahead, yeah?”

Court looked at me quizzically, as if I’d just told her West Brom were gonna win the Champions league this year. Come on, surely I’m not being that unreasonable.

“It’s… not as simple as that. I might not remember it very well, but I still… remember it, I guess. Flashes keep coming back to my mind. Those bastards in the gold cloaks barking orders, and my body following them without question. At the time I didn’t even know what was happening, but now I’m looking back on it…” she shivered violently for a moment before continuing, “it’s… haunting me.”

“Poor girl. Sounds like you’re going through hell.”

“...yeah.”

“Better keep going then. Terrible place to stop innit?” With one last spin of the twig in me hand, the bottom one finally caught alight, and I chucked it onto the infinite firewood. “And if you think you’re gonna stumble and fall along the way, I’ll catch ya’s. Can’t be ‘avin’ ya fall apart on me now, can I?”

“...you’re a strange individual, aren’t you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, moving closer and putting my arm on her shoulder.

“What are you doing? Weren’t you gonna train while I cooked the food?”

“We got three weeks, ain’t we? Reckons you need the company right about now.”

“Haaa…” she sighed again (christ, woman, pack it in), but this time she let herself smile at the end. “Thank you, Arch,” she said, letting her head rest on my shoulder.

Give yourself a break, love. You deserve it.