Another journal

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The jump was incredibly easy. Dry-Eyes and Emily were joined by the hare from the scrying labs, who wanted to show off his findings with Emily’s camera. He had no worries about getting to see the king.

“All monarchs know the importance of keeping on the good side of scientific institutions. We’re the ones who invent weapons.”

Emily carried his travelling satchel for him. Once he’d found out that her backpack could hold a probably infinite volume he’d gone a little overboard. At least, Emily thought, it didn’t feel like she was carrying half a lab.

The three walked through a very boring looking door in the catacombs of the monastery onto a field dotted with trees and wildflowers. In the comfortable distance was a castle.

It seemed to be about early morning, so they set off, planning to reach the castle by mid-evening. Every so often the women would stop, Dry-Eyes circling Emily’s head, to wait for the hare to catch up. His bounds would draw him ahead of their travelling pace, but he couldn’t keep up the speed for long. Emily offered to carry him but he sniffed, offended.

“That would be terribly undignified. How would it look if I came up to the castle carried in the arms of some mundane human?” Emily argued that she was technically Folk and they finally found a compromise. She’d carry him until they were close and he’d finish the rest on his own four feet.

There was no door that Emily could see. The hare didn’t seem daunted. He spoke at the wall.

“Don’t play with me. I’m here representing the University of the Gardens and I have an important scientific discovery for the king.”

The blank stones faded to reveal a troll guard leaning casually in the archway of a door. “Sure, haas, but who’s the dame?”

Emily blinked, momentarily unsettled by the troll’s choice of pronoun. “Um, hello. I’m a chosen one here to petition the king?” The guard kept staring at her. Emily started to shift uneasily, then shook her head and narrowed her eyes at the hulking figure. “I am a lawful chosen one on a quest, part of which is to ask something of the king. You’re a guard who has yet to prove the necessity of my telling you more.” She crossed her arms and made the face she used right before threatening the kids with ‘counting to three.’ They locked eyes longer than Emily thought she could. Finally the guard sighed, levelling itself off the wall.

“Fine, enter.”

He tried to stop Dry-Eyes, but she buzzed past, muttering, “Get real.”

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.