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Chapter 14 - The Prydwen III
🕑 Added 2025-10-26 13:08:59 +0000 UTCCharacters!
Erik Morsin: Heir to the Duchy of the Emerald Isle. Just wants to play his violin.
Sora Park: Erik’s loyal friend. Loves flying.
Vivian Merryweather: An expert on all things color, fashion, and of the heart. Gets seasick easily.
Maeve Morsin: Erik’s mother. Duchess of Ireland in Logres
Bjorn Morsin: Erik’s father. Regent of Ireland in Logres
The Seven Skeletons: Members of the fateful voyage, their service continues even into unlife.
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Maeve Morsin, proud-blooded and flame-eyed, stepped through the Misty Gates, returning from Camelot.
Her boots touched Dublin stone -
But the air was wrong.
Too still.
Too cold.
She smelled blood beneath the cobblestones,
And knew - though no word had been spoken -
That her house was fallen.
A magic spell of stunning and paralysis took her into the darkness.
The Saga of Bjorn, Verse 24
==========
The Gate of Mist the Morsins used was practically an ancient relic. Slabs of solid granite had withstood storm and war, the foundations far deeper than the sandy beach would suggest. Here was the infamous location where Maeve Morsin had returned to a devastated home and been viciously ambushed. Here, countless generations of Morsins and their retainers had headed to Camelot.
Here, Erik Morsin stood at the head of a small procession, dressed in his nicest daywear robes, with a white leather satchel slung over one shoulder. His outfit was nice without being over the top, the highest quality without dipping into ‘I have more money than sense’ or ‘I somehow think this is a formal ball’. Nothing anyone would take a second look at, but one that people with a discerning eye would recognize as quality. He had naturally gotten his invitation to Camelot, as had Sora. But they weren’t the only ones living in Dublin, and a half dozen other children from the city had been accepted that year, to say nothing of the years ahead of them. All told, 34 students from Dublin and the surrounding regions were heading through the Morsin’s Gate of Mist.
Naturally, Erik was expected to give a small speech.
“Wixen. I’m going to keep this short, so we can all get a good cabin aboard The Prydwen.” Erik joked. A ripple of laughs met his declaration.
“All too soon, I’m going to have to be Duke Morsin. These years at Camelot are my only chance at something vaguely normal, and I’d like to seize it. Please, when we meet in the hallways and in class, I’m Erik, not Heir Morsin. Now, with that being said, if you need me to step up for some reason, just say the word. I’m not abdicating my duties. If you need judgment, protection, or arbitration, just knock on my door between 7AM and 10PM. But if you disturb my beauty sleep, so help me.” Erik mimed shaking his fist at the sky, and a second ripple of laughter told him the joke had landed.
“Right then! As I am just a shiny-eyed tadpole, the senior adept should lead us through the gates.”
Erik stepped aside with a flourish, and let the wizard in question lead. He got a small nod for his efforts - the man had spent 7 years following others through the gates, and it would’ve brewed the tiniest hint of resentment if Erik had upstaged him. It didn’t matter one whit to Erik’s ego if he was allowed first, but it did matter to the wizard he was letting go first.
Duke and Duchess Morsin saw them off, and Erik had to admire the glamour work on his mother. Every family that was still alive was out in force, saying goodbye to their children.
Erik had done his private farewells earlier. Sora was bouncing up and down next to him, and he eyed her suspiciously.
“You haven’t taken a potion or anything?” He asked the girl. She was energetic, but this was a little over the top.
“Nope! JustAteAFewPeppermints!” She babbled out at top speed. Erik pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sora. Those were Productive Peppermints. Did you eat an entire semester’s worth of Productive Peppermints in one go?”
“Nooooo…” Sora tried to drag the word out, but couldn’t stop fidgeting. “I left a few.”
Erik reached into his enchanted satchel. It was a nice satchel. If it had just a few more features it would be one of the Morsin family artifacts, sealed away in a vault until the day it was needed. Family lore had it that one of the white harts that had given the Morsin family their vaunted noble core had also allowed their skin to be taken in death, woven into a satchel that had been passed down through generations. It was nearly indestructible, repaired itself, deflected attention, and best of all, was gigantic on the inside. One of Erik’s great-something ancestors had reportedly lived inside the satchel for months, if not years. It was further enchanted to have whatever item Erik wanted on the top, and naturally weighed like nothing was in it.
He didn’t want to flaunt his family’s wealth, but Erik was going to take some advantage of the nicer things available that made his life easier. His bag, his violin, his rings, his focus, a bunch of potions, and a few other items. Sora had gotten halfway through hearing what the bag could do before dumping her entire trunk inside. To the girl’s credit, she’d then offered to carry the bag.
He grabbed the Productive Peppermints out of the bag, and stared at Sora.
“Park.” He said. The girl snapped to attention.
“Yes bossman?” She sheepishly ventured.
“There are two left.”
“Yes bossman.”
“You utter broombrain. We can’t miss The Prydwen… ugh, well, let’s make the best of it and pray you don’t need actual medical intervention before we get there.”
“Yes bossman!” Sora impulsively hugged Erik, then dashed after the rest of the young wixen going through the Gates of Mist.
“This is going to be a long year.” Erik grumbled… but he was smiling the whole time.
He wouldn’t have his friends any other way.
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Erik and Sora quickly boarded The Prydwen, happily lost in the crowd. Not the first, not the last, just another witch and wizard in the mix. Certainly not a member of the most hated family in Logres, no. The only unusual thing was how little luggage they seemed to be carrying, but it wasn’t that uncommon. Quite a few wixen were from Avalon in the first place, and didn’t need to bring their luggage all the way to the Port of Dreams just to bring it back ‘home’ again. A number of others simply brought solid Aureli with them, intending to buy everything they needed in Corwin. Some lugged trunks and trunks of supplies behind them, cursing and sweating the whole way.
People from all walks of life came to Camelot. There was a far higher percentage of the nobility attending, as was their Avalon-given right, but it wasn’t just for them. Students who were rich, students who were poor. Students who were nobility, students whose parents worked for the Bureau of Arcane Taxation. Camelot was open to all who received an invitation.
“Let’s stay up on the deck?” Erik proposed.
“Yeah!” Sora was practically vibrating. Erik reluctantly conceded that it couldn’t all be because of her Peppermint mishap.
A handful of other students stayed on deck, while everyone else submerged to the peace or politics of their cabin. A time to catch up with friends, make new ones, or escape from family. Erik looked around, briefly trying to figure out if he could identify the seven skeletons of The Prydwen, and wondered how many of them were from the original crew.
The ship certainly wasn’t the first Prydwen, although it shared the same name.
Sora wasn’t subtle about reaching into his satchel. Erik lifted a single eyebrow - a relatively recent trick of his that he was inordinately proud of.
“Can I help you?” He asked.
“Trying to get my Hurricane out.” Sora answered, trying to reach deeper and deeper into the bag. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s locked to me.” Erik responded. Sora took her hand - and the rest of her arm - out of the satchel. “Here.”
He thought about it, reached into his bag, and felt his violin case brush against his fingers. The magic of the bag knew what Erik really wanted to take out, but now wasn’t the time. With a bit more focus and mental discipline, Erik was able to shift his thoughts, and the handle of Sora’s broom slapped into his hand. He hauled it out of his bag, and handed it to his friend.
“I’m not going to get you if you get lost in-between.” Erik said.
“Yes you will!” Sora said as she soared off, sloth-rolling under some of the rigging.
Ugh. She knew him too well. Erik caught Soras hat, which had failed to stay on the witch's head.
With the trumpeting of a horn, blown by a being with no lips nor lungs, The Prydwen lurched into motion. The seven skeletons ran all over the place, pulling on lines and spinning wheels. Erik wasn’t quite sure if the skeletons were doing anything, or if the magic of the ship would make it work.
Either way, they were off!
Erik took a few minutes to relax and enjoy the sights. The sails filled with wind, the banners snapping in the breeze. The spray of water and the breeze in his hair. He was warm, awake, well-fed, and healthy. His violin was next to him, and his friend was whooping in the air. The gentle rocking of the ship, and the chittering of dolphins.
The great crushing weight he’d felt ever since he was aware of his responsibilities lifted a modest amount. He still felt it, but he wasn’t being judged for every move. He wasn’t surrounded by people examining and studying him.
The pressure was still there, and he looked up at Sora with a small degree of envy. Oh, to be as free as she was.
Then reality reminded him of how not free Sora was in so many ways, and his shoulders slumped. He was broken out of his thoughts by the sounds of another student sprinting past him. The first thing he saw was indigo. All the dark blues, like she was wrapped up by the ocean. The only other color on her was her blonde hair, clearly charmed into curly waves. A pair of butterfly clips held her hair back, revealing a pair of earrings that sparkled as they revealed the depths of the ocean. A choker was in the same color, and her robes were indigo. Her socks, shoes, and bracelet were all coordinated together in various shades, creating a nice effect. Eyeliner was in glittering blue, and her nails were painted like waves. Tiny imperfections made it clear that the girl had applied it all herself, it wasn’t the result of magic. He turned to the colorful witch.
“Hi-” Erik barely got out before the girl made it to the banister.
“Hurk!” She noisily puked off the side of the ship. One of the skeletons shook his head at her.
She looked like she could be a second or even third year, but if that was the case she’d probably know how to handle seasickness by now. Either way, time to make friends! Or at least help a stranger out.
Erik reached into his bag as he walked over, carefully angling himself so the wind wouldn’t blow puke onto him. His fingers brushed past his violin, and he grabbed one of the endless goodies he thought someone would like. The Morsin heir waited for the latest round of vomiting to be over, and quickly stepped up next to the girl.
“Seasickness stone?” He asked, offering the enchanted pebble. She stared blankly at him for a moment, before going green and puking over the side. Again.
“Y-yes.” She barely stammered out, and Erik shoved the stone into her hand. Her face immediately cleared up.
“Oh Hera, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much, I’ll make sure I get this back to you by the end of the trip.” She awkwardly laughed, clearly embarrassed.
Erik waved her off.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a gift from me to you. No stress, no obligation, just a freely given present. I love your makeup and look! It’s fantastic. Dressed for the trip?”
She clearly worked hard on her appearance, above and beyond what was needed. Meant she enjoyed it, meant she’d like compliments. Everyone liked talking about themselves.
Was it a manipulative way to make friends and win influence, or was it simply knowing how to talk with people? More questions Erik had wrestled with. Being thoughtful was easy.
“Why thank you!” The girl dimpled prettily. “To answer your question, no! Every day of the week is a different color. Saturdays are indigo! And I’m such a mess! I’m so sorry. Merryweather. Vivian Merryweather. I’m pretty sure you just saved my life, I don’t think I would’ve made it seven hours.”
Erik flashed grin #2 - the charming, ‘let’s be friends’ one. Damn his lessons for teaching him so well.
“I’m Erik! It’s nice to meet you.” He said. Merryweather, Merryweather… Erik didn’t quite have the entire list of noble families memorized, but he was able to consistently score djinn on his practice tests. With that said, Merryweather didn’t even ring a faint bell.
Excellent! No delicate maneuvering, no awkward nonsense, just the raw ability to make friends.
Vivian half-lidded her eyes.
“Just Erik, hmmm?” She teased.
“Yeah, brand new first year.” He said. “You?”
“Same here! Oh, maybe we’ll be in the same house. I’m personally aiming for Phoenix.” She said.
“Really?” Erik asked. “Same here! No better house for making friends.”
Vivian sighed.
“Speaking of friends… mine’s probably going to end up in Thunderbird, and I’m super torn if I should follow her there or not.”
Erik shrugged.
“You’ll still be friends either way, yeah? Not like the house dictates everything.”
“True… speaking of, I should go find her. She’s probably worried about me, after seeing me sprint off and everything. See you around… just Erik.”
Erik managed to keep a straight face as the girl sauntered off. She’d clearly been reading Teen Witch magazine, but had no experience putting it into practice. The butterfly clip in her hair reinforced the idea, but the whole thing ended up looking adorable-funny. Like a kid putting on her mom’s clothes. Erik was spoken for either way, which he suspected was going to be a source of great frustration in the future.
There was a shout, a snapping of rope, and a student went half-flying across the deck before crashing into one of the railings.
At this rate I should train to be a healer. Erik thought to himself, then hurried over. There was a bit of a crowd, and Erik didn’t feel the need to shove his way forward. He did find out the boy’s name was Martin. Odric Martin, and he considered himself ‘clumsy’. Given how he’d managed to trip, hit a rope, and got launched into the side of the ship, breaking his nose and losing two teeth three minutes into the trip, Erik wasn’t the slightest bit surprised.
Sora zoomed down and hovered next to Erik.
“Making friends?” She asked.
“Hope so!” Erik said.
“Write down the stuff! The thing!” Sora said.
Erik refrained from groaning.
“Ah, by Odin’s eye. You’re right.” He pulled out a small notebook and quill. Self-inking, correcting, and a half-dozen other enchantments made it the easiest thing to use.
Vivian Merryweather. Gets violently seasick. Fashion/gossip magazine girl?
Odric Martin. Clumsy. The one on the top deck of the ship. He wrote down.
It was a neat trick to remembering people. Their name, and a fun fact about them.
“I assume you’re not going to?” Erik’s question was practically rhetorical. Sora scoffed.
“Heck no. I’m going to figure out who the good fliers are by who joins me up here, learn all their names, and I’ll be set.”
“Broombrain.” Erik affectionately said. “Who’ll look after my back when I descend into the pit of scum and villainy that’s my fellow nobility?”
Sora looked at him critically.
“Yeah… you’d die. Alright, let me help you.”
She hopped off her broom and stuffed it back into Erik’s satchel without even a by-your-leave.
“Okay! Let’s go!”
Without waiting for Erik, she zipped over to the door, descending into the ship.
Erik didn’t bother with any of the senior years. They’d see a flopping tadpole and laugh him out of the room. Maybe if he memorized everyone in his year, he’d go to the second years… or take advantage of the time and space, and practice his violin.
The siren song of music called to him. He could be irresponsible. He could skip out on learning everyone’s name, and spend the next seven hours doing nothing but playing music. Oh the songs he could play, oh the practice he’d get in. He caught his fingers inching towards his satchel, and he dramatically grabbed his right hand with his left hand.
“After we get the first years.” He half-whispered to himself.
“What’s that?” Sora asked.
“You get to listen to my music once we’re done here.” Erik half-teased.
Sora pulled a face.
“Instead of flying, I get to listen to you torturing cats? No thank you.”
“It’s not-!” Erik protested, only to see the look on Sora’s face. “Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, you got me, you’re so funny.”
She bowed with a flourish. It wasn’t a bow in any of the etiquette books.
“Thank you, thank you. Alright, let’s go so I can go flying and you can torture cats.”
Erik’s fingers twitched. Sora chose the better part of valor and vanished into the depths of The Prydwen.
“Start on the first door?” Sora asked, her hand up and ready to knock.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the Light meeting cabin.” Erik said, moving past the door.
“Ooooh… yeah, I choose life.” Sora said, moving down. “This one?”
Erik knocked on the door.
“One moment!” A voice called out, followed by a low, painful moan. The door irised open a moment later.
The room was darkened, and a girl was sweating heavily in one of the hammocks. The platinum-blonde girl who’d answered the door was looking frazzled.
“What?” She demanded.
“I'm Erik! Your friend doesn’t look so good, can we do anything to help?” Erik asked.
“No, sorry. Please leave.” She jabbed the close rune with a little more force than needed.
“Friendly.” Sora commented. Erik shrugged.
“Who’s in the mood to make new friends when your current one’s sick?” He said.
“Yeah, you probably had something in that endless bag of wonders that could’ve helped.” Sora said.
“Can’t help people who don’t want it.” Erik agreed.
The third door had some kids playing Monsters and Magic. The core-crusted cards animated various monsters, wixen, and other ideas, like enchantments and spells, and the holographic images battled each other for supremacy, all while more cards were drawn and added to the mix with the byzantine labyrinth of rules that existed for the game. The official rulebook was over a thousand pages long, but most people just needed the golden rule.
The cards did what they said they did.
A vigorous four-way match was going on, and Erik knew enough to not look like a complete novice. He had his own deck - one that Caleb swore was good - and maybe he’d swing by later and socialize.
As it was, he got four more names.
Vaunt Lynpool - sleepy, inattentive. Mermaid deck.
William Reed - scattered all over the place. Combo spells
Nathan Corbin - loves reading cards, detail-oriented
Jace Dunmore - excellent with card tricks! Possibly cheating
Erik wished he could’ve picked more flattering descriptions, or something not relating to the game, but with only a short timeframe and the five of them deeply involved, there was much else to get from them all.
The next door was still open, which was promising.
He knocked.
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AN: We got a bunch of new characters! Most of them are secondary 'background' characters.
The two unnamed ones:
Valerie De Lys: 16th in line for the De Lys Duchy, which rules over what's roughly France in Logres.
Emily Brown: The sick girl. I had to do an INSANE amount of research for her condition... I'll do a prize of some sort for whoever can figure it out first, it's going to be a subplot mystery.
Comments
1v1 Me, No Items, Fox only, Final Destination
My money's on lycanthropy. Fantasy series + mysterious illness is always lycanthropy. Or vampirism, but vampirism gets coded as an illness far less often than lycanthropy.
matt
English Sweating sickness? For the sheer irony?
Framing Device
Huh. Maybe I’ve been reading too much romance if my first thought regarding Val & Ems is that one wasn’t sick and the other helping, but their preoccupied activity far from prying eyes was just interrupted.
Selkie
;)
Gremlin Jack
If the cards have magical tooltips that expand into detailed explanations and rulings, then yes. Otherwise, that's a filthy lie.
TeaGeek
Silly, but I laughed at the surname Lynpool (“lyn” means pool)
Zack Soucek
Reading the card explains the card
