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PJFD 28
🕑 Added 2025-10-25 21:32:06 +0000 UTCThe Train of Magicka
“Can you imagine how much of a pain it would be not to travel first class? I mean, come on, people would totally lose it,” said Percy as he stretched and pointed at Grover’s legs, who had just taken off his fake feet.
“How rude,” grumbled Grover with a frown. But, to be fair, he knew Percy was right. Traveling like this was uncomfortable; they had to stay alert in case someone looked at them or overheard things they shouldn’t. And to make matters worse, if any of them fell asleep, the others had to keep one eye open to make sure Grover didn’t lose his prosthetic feet.
They owed this long trip to Percy—or rather, to Percy’s money. That morning, however, they’d had a rather “pleasant” conversation, if one could call it that, with a small poodle that had befriended Grover.
The dog had even offered to help them get some money for their trip as repayment for rescuing him; apparently, he had run away from a family he despised. Fortunately for the poodle, he didn’t have to—Percy and the others had enough to cover the costs, and the little dog got to enjoy his freedom a bit longer before someone, inevitably, found him and sent him back home.
Still, something caught Annabeth’s and Grover’s attention when they woke up: Percy’s eyes. They had always been that deep sea-green color, but now they seemed to glow slightly, as if lit from within. For a moment, it almost made him look smarter. Well… until he opened his mouth.
Once they boarded the train, they found a private compartment just for themselves. They also bought some food for Grover and a bit of fruit for the two of them. According to Annabeth, it wasn’t healthy to live solely on dried meat.
Although, to be honest, it seemed more like she didn’t want to get used to its taste. After all, if she did, regular food would forever feel like garbage in comparison. Thinking about it… I guess that made sense. Well, for her.
The compartment door was locked, so they could relax as they traveled. Still, their destination was far away; even by train, it would take nearly two days to reach, and barely half a day had passed. Percy sat quietly, a goofy smile on his face and a strange book in his hands.
Annabeth watched him curiously before finally asking,
“What are you reading? Don’t tell me you found something forbidden, right?” she said, her tone carrying a hint of disgust.
“What? No!” Percy replied immediately, realizing what she meant. “It’s a magic book,” he added defensively.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow.
“Magic?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
“Hehe… but that’s not the important part,” Percy said with a slightly smug grin. “Maybe I finally beat my dyslexia and can read perfectly now.” He lifted the yellow book and pointed at the first page, where the title read clearly: Healing. Beginner.
Annabeth looked at him for a few seconds, then glanced down at the book.
“I can read it too,” she said at last, a touch of surprise in her voice. Normally, reading gave her some trouble, but this time the words stayed still—perfectly clear, not jumping around like they usually did.
“Huh?” Percy looked at the text again, frowning before muttering,
“Tsk… I thought that potion had reprogrammed my brain, but it looks like the book itself is special.” He said it with a trace of annoyance, though the satisfaction in his expression was obvious.
“Where did you get that book?” Annabeth asked quickly. It was the first time she’d seen something like it. Not only could she understand the language, but she could read it fluently, as if she’d known it all her life. It was different from Greek letters or runes, which she grasped through intuition. This felt… real.
“My master gave it to me,” Percy said, finally putting an end to his antics as he returned to reading.
The books Miraak had given him were about ten in total: half contained healing spells, and the other half were about protection—meant to harden the skin and reduce incoming damage. Percy understood the message: his master was worried about him. The thought made him smile, a mix between amusement and warmth. He knew that if Miraak heard that thought, he’d probably get another smack on the head.
Even so, Percy felt a comforting warmth in his chest. It was nice to know his teacher cared enough to keep him alive.
“Your master?” Annabeth asked, her gaze falling on the yellow-covered book in Percy’s hand. Its surface bore a large rune that shimmered faintly, almost as if it were breathing.
“Yeah. This one seems to be a healing spell. It’s pretty easy to understand,” Percy said, lifting his hand and following the steps in the book. A soft golden light began to form on his palm, spreading gently through his body before fading away.
“Oh… that feels nice,” he murmured in awe, testing it for the first time.
Grover, who had been watching from his seat, opened his eyes wide in shock and mild panic.
“Oh, Mother Nature! That was natural magic! Holy healing! Ancient magic! I don’t know what it was, but it had enormous natural power!” he exclaimed, hurrying toward Percy.
Percy glanced at him, slightly uncomfortable, and leaned back as the satyr’s face came dangerously close to his.
“You’re way too close,” he said, pushing Grover’s face away with his hand.
“You don’t get it! That was different from manipulating the Mist. It came from your body,” Grover said seriously.
“Yeah, I know. The book says, ‘channel your internal magicka and release it gently,’” Percy replied, pointing to a line in the text.
“Magicka?” Annabeth repeated.
“It’s probably something like mana… magical energy, spiritual power, something like that. I don’t really know. My master just said that everyone has magicka,” Percy explained, then lowered his voice, muttering to himself, “Well… at least in his world.”
After all, magic in Tamriel existed for a specific reason. This world, however, had a different source—the Mist.
From what he’d understood from his master, Percy might possess something similar to magicka thanks to his divine blood. Maybe that was why he could also use powers related to water.
Annabeth watched him with a mix of interest and restraint. The topic fascinated her, but she knew that asking Percy to lend her one of his books could be… complicated. Especially since they were gifts from his master. Still, curiosity gnawed at her; more than the magic itself, what truly intrigued her was the knowledge—the structure of that language they both seemed able to read.
Percy, on the other hand, noticed her expression easily. It was as if his perception had sharpened enough to read people’s emotions just by looking at them—at least those who weren’t very good at hiding them, like Annabeth… or Grover, whose face was practically an open book. He could see a jumble of feelings swirling inside him: confusion, fear, rejection, acceptance, and finally, resignation. It was funny, really, considering Grover was the one who could usually sense other people’s emotions.
“Well, my master didn’t say anything about not showing it to others. And knowing him, he would’ve made it very clear if he didn’t want anyone to see it. So I guess it’s fine if you study the first book. Besides, it’ll help if we ever run out of nectar or ambrosia,” Percy said as he handed her the book in his hand.
Annabeth’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that—Percy was rarely this thoughtful, especially with her, given how often they argued.
“Besides, I already finished it. I need to start the next one,” he added calmly.
Annabeth looked down at the book, then back at Percy. Her voice came out softer, almost shy.
“T-thanks,” she murmured, her cheeks faintly flushed at the gesture.
Meanwhile, Percy felt Grover’s gaze fixed on him and couldn’t help but smile. He reached into his bag, rummaging through the books his master had given him.
There were ten in total: four about healing, four about defense, and two with red covers. Percy took the last two curiously and opened them. One read Calm, and the other, Fury—both belonging to the School of Illusion.
He frowned. Those weren’t really his kind of spells, and it was strange that Miraak had given them to him. But when he looked up at Annabeth and Grover, he understood. Those books weren’t meant for him. His master had given them thinking of his companions—not because he cared about them personally, but so they wouldn’t become a burden to Percy during his mission.
Percy smiled, happier than before, and handed both books to Grover.
“Here. Learn them well,” he said with a light grin.
Grover’s eyes widened with joy as he looked at the books, then at his friend, filled with genuine gratitude.
“Thanks, Percy… you’re really a great friend,” he said, his voice trembling, almost on the verge of tears.
Ever since Percy had discovered his demigod heritage and joined Camp Half-Blood, Grover had felt that their friendship from Yancy Academy had cracked a little. He’d even thought Percy had built a wall between them. But now he realized that maybe it had only been in his head.
Of course, what Grover didn’t know was that this “wall” had only fallen because Percy’s master had included his companions in his plans. Percy had figured it out quickly—maybe thanks to that potion that had made him a little sharper: if Miraak had considered either of them a threat or a potential traitor—as the prophecy warned—he never would have given them something so valuable.
And just like that, without realizing it, Annabeth and Grover had lowered their guard around Percy, feeling closer, more trusting… all thanks to a couple of books.
While his companions buried themselves in their reading, Percy turned his gaze toward the train window. The landscape rushed by, forests stretching endlessly on both sides. For a moment, he thought he saw a massive lion walking calmly among the trees, its golden mane glimmering softly beneath the sunlight filtering through the branches. The creature turned its head toward the train, observed it briefly, then continued its path in peace.
Further ahead, as the woods gave way to open plains, Percy spotted a group of centaurs running in formation. One of them, younger than the rest, noticed him and raised his hand in greeting. Percy gave a faint smile in return, watching as the young centaur ran back to what looked like his parents.
Then his expression changed. His face grew serious as he watched the scenery fade into the distance. He glanced sideways at Annabeth and Grover, both absorbed in their books.
“One less thing to worry about,” he murmured quietly. “Now I can focus on my mission.”
His voice was low, almost inaudible, but his eyes were sharp, steady. He opened another book—its first page titled Oakflesh—and began to read as the train sped along the rails. Outside, the sun dipped slowly below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange.
The day was ending—and with it, the first step toward a journey far greater than any of them could imagine.
Comments
Hannan Potashman
Thank you for the chapter
