I follow after the Doctor as she leads
further away from the building, presumably so that we have plenty of room for take-off. “Just to be clear, you haven’t ever ridden a broom while I wasn’t looking, have you, Dear?” She asks with great concern.
“No, never. I’m sure I’ll be fine, though..” How hard could sitting on a broom for an hour possibly be? Sure, I know we’ll be going fast, but I’ll be able to close my eyes if it’s too much.
Opal sighs wearily as if she’s heard this a million tis. “Everyone thinks that their first ti flying, but take it from - underestimating broom flight is a costly mistake. I’d recomnd you let
cast a few minor spells to make it just a wee bit easier for you, sweetheart.”
“Do you use these spells on yourself when you fly, too?”
“No, but I’m quite experienced when it cos to riding...” When I raise my eyebrow at her suggestively, Opal giggles. “Pun absolutely intended.” She adds.
I feel like I can’t back out of trying to look tough now, so I stand my ground. “If you don’t need them, then neither do I.”
“There’s that stubbornness of yours. You just want to impress , don’t you?” The mature woman puts her hand on her hip, judging
harshly.
“Always. I’m starting to think I have a problem, honestly...” I shrug in the face of this wise old witch who knows
to a fault.
“At least you admit it. Well, hop on, then...” Opal rolls her eyes and mounts the broom. “I’m sure I’ll be very impressed when you piss yourself all over my expensive broom.”
“Ah. Well, on second thought...”
“Good boy,” Opal giggles as she temporarily dismounts and casts a few spells on . A spell to calm anxiety, sothing to keep my glasses firmly stuck to my face, a stomach stabilizer, and, of course, sothing to prevent
from pissing my pants. I feel fuzzy all over after getting magic’d up, which Opal assures
is totally normal. Not that I would know- I’ve never been under so many spells at the sa ti before.
Now that I’m adequately prepared for flight, I join Opal in mounting the broom and wrap my arms tightly around her waist. “Don’t be getting any funny ideas just because you’re grinding up against , Dear,” She warns in a stern, motherly tone. “It won’t end well.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I lie, ntally pushing aside the lewd novels I’ve read centered around molesting witches mid-flight. The look on Opal’s face tells
she doesn’t believe , and rightly so.
Regardless of my perverse fantasies, it’s ti to take off.
Opal tilts the wooden broom upwards ever so slightly at the sky. Wind starts fluttering around us, her magic causing us to lift several feet off the ground and float peacefully into the air. At first, this fills
with wonder and excitent, just like it would anyone else. But as we rise higher and higher, I start to see why the anxiety spell was a necessary precaution.
I... don’t like this. Not at all.
“Well?” Opal asks as we hover precariously hundreds of feet over Dewhurst, basking in the city’s ever enjoyable gray overcast.
My hands tremble as I hold on tight as I can to Opal. “You were right. I’m sorry...”
“Mmm, say it again, baby...” She teases, enjoying the sweet feeling of being proven right.
“I’m sorry, I’m a stubborn fool...”
Opal giggles out of satisfaction before saying, “Really, though. Don’t you find seeing your hotown in a way you’ve never imagined it interesting, at least?”
I force myself to take a closer look at the town below, seeing all the seedy and dirty-looking people walking up and down the disgusting streets. Thanks to the power of my eyes, I see countless drug dealers, addicts, and prostitutes all going about their seedy business. Sprinkled in with the occasional stabbing, theft, or worse, it all makes for a thoroughly depressing vista.
“It’s... so much worse from up here, honestly... I knew this town was awful, but seeing the view from above almost makes
wish we had a bomb to drop on the place.” I say, only half-joking.
With a disappointed sigh, Opal shakes her head. “Well, I promise you’ll like Dawnstead a whole lot better if nothing else. Hold on tight, Dear. I’m going to take off for real this ti which ans we’ll be going pretty fast. Let’s get-” She stops midsentence and looks around the town.
“Did you feel that?” She asks.
“I’m sorry, I’m just anxious, and I didn’t an to-”
“No, not you... I could’ve sworn I just felt a large surge of mana usage.”
“Maybe? I don’t know how far away I can sense that from. Let’s get going before weAGHHHHHH!” Opal doesn’t wait for
to finish speaking. She clicks her heels together and leans down over her broom, sending us forward at hurtling speed.
“We’re being followed,” Opal points out. “Let’s see if they can keep with ...”
“WHAT?” Her words are a jumbled, incomprehensible ss to
on account of the intense wind pressure.
“Whoops, silly ! I forgot a spell,” She laughs, tapping my ear with her wand, allowing
to hear things normally once again. The witch then repeats herself, and I look back to check and see if she’s right. Dewhurst has beco a distant blip in the horizon, and just as she feared, approaching fast behind us is a small squadron of Mages.
“How many are there?”
“Seven... six are riding brooms, and the one behind them is... oh, it’s him.”
“Him?”
“One of the Duke of Dewhurst’s higher-ups, an Elf who calls himself the Crystal Sage. I think he controls the drug trade of the city...” I see the Elf flying in formation behind his n, sitting atop a cushy pillow on an illustrious magic carpet. Between his legs is a massive, golden Kissuaran hookah bellowing sparkling, multi-colored smoke straight into his awaiting mouth. As the bald, strung-out Elf exhales each massive inhalation, it spirals out behind him, creating a bizarre, drug-fueled exhaust.
The older witch raises an eyebrow as she takes in the sight for herself. “You don’t say? So this elf is the reason the mana crystal situation in Dewhurst is so terrible...?”
“Probably? I’m just confused on how they knew I’d be leaving town...”
“This drugged-up elf might be stronger than I gave him credit for. He likely tracked my magical signature when we took off despite the steps I took to mask it... still, this situation is nothing I can’t handle. Let’s see if I can’t shake them first before we give them the fight they’re looking for.”
Opal speeds up, causing
to scream for dear life as we barrel ahead at a breakneck pace. For several minutes this ride continues, every second of it inspiring a terror in
that I’ve never felt. In my ntal misery, I even find myself uttering a prayer to Luxy, asking for forgiveness. I’m grateful that she’s still not responding, as I don’t think I could handle her teasing right now...
I take another look back and see the Sage and his entourage not only keeping up but readying an attack aid directly at us both. “Opal, they’re going to try and shoot us out of the sky...!”
“Hmm. Staffs or wands?”
“Wands,” She considers this information for a mont in silence before speaking.
“Darling, I just had a wonderful idea. How would you like to learn how to fly a broom? You'll be able to steer it as long as I'm pumping mana into it.” Opal turns to face , revealing the battle-hungry look in her eyes. I’ve never seen such violence and cruelty in that warm, purple glare before. “I’ll deal with our uninvited guests.”
Out of concern, I ask her, “Are you sure?” since Opal isn’t very keen on hurting people. Seeing her react like this is sothing deeply unsettling to .
Without the slightest bit of sarcasm, Opal says, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill them... the fall will.” I stare at her for a minute in disbelief before she laughs it off. “That was a deadpan joke, my love. I’ll just get them off of our back with so magic... besides, It’s thanks to that asshole that I have to go to the effort of mining my own damn mana crystals whenever I start running low!”
Personally, I wouldn’t mind if the Crystal Sage really does fall to his death thanks to Opal. One fewer of the Duke of Dewhurst’s crilords running around would only make the Guild’s job more manageable, and unlike with Pimpington, I don’t see much value in keeping him alive for interrogation purposes- the Elf is clearly not all there.
Another look backward, and I can see an array of magical arrows shooting out of the henchmage’s wands. These streams of concentrated energy tear through the sky and hurtle towards as they whistle like persistent pipes. I’m awful glad my mind is currently fortified against anxiety because I’m still crippled by fear, even with that spell helping
out. “Opal, magic missiles!”
“Right. My magic is still flowing into the broom, so all you need to do is angle it which way you want it to go. I’ll leave this part to you, Dear!” Opal, against all known laws of gravity that I’m aware of, stands up tall on the broom and jumps past my head, landing elegantly on the bristles as if she weighed nothing. She points her wand in front of
and summons two floating mirrors that allow
to look back and see the threat behind us.
Opal cracks her neck and strips herself of her coat, revealing her sweater as a snug-fitting tank top with a very low-cut back. Her expensive blue coat falls down below, the wind carrying it away to parts unknown, never to be seen again. “It’s been a very long ti since I’ve been in a magical duel... it might be hard to hold myself back.” She says, her voice becoming less motherly and more threatening. “That said, I can’t go all-out... it’d be inconvenient for
if I made such a large showing of my mana signature.”
“Right. I’ll do my best...” After taking a deep breath to cope with the fact that any of this is actually fucking happening, I swerve us to the left, evading the oncoming missiles as I summon my arcane tech pistol in my right hand. No better place to learn how to use damn thing than out in the field, right?
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