#what a lovely surprise to come back to after posting this
this is a very important question, do we think douxie writes in all caps?
training was going a little rough today.
jim was still getting used to being human. which was weird considering that’s what he started off as. nevertheless, his senses of balance and strength were off now that he wasn’t made of stone anymore.
claire knocked him off his feet as she swept his leg with her staff. the stone floor of the castle was cold and hard against his back. jim took her hand as he got back up. after he brushed himself off, he placed his hand on the back of claire’s shoulders,
“that was so awesome, you took me out in 20 seconds flat!” he coughed, feeling some pain as his muscles shook, “but,, uh, can we take a break, cariño?”
claire nodded and they headed to the bench.
the bench creaked eerily as the centuries old wood accommodated the weight of the teenagers. an ancient tapestry hung on the wall behind the bench, depicting a glorious victory by king arthur and the round table knights.
claire leaned back against the fabric on the wall as she chugged her water bottle. it’s been a while since they took a break, doomsday on the horizon and all making them anxious to get in as much training as possible.
as jim reached down under the bench for his own water bottle, his hand brushed against something with paper texture. deciding to grab it and pull it out, jim discovered that it was a glass bottle with a post-it note stuck onto it.
claire leaned into jim’s side to see what the note said. in big, script-like capital letters the note read:
AFTER TRAINING POTION
DO NOT DRINK MORE THAN A SIP
(P.S. YES THAT MEANS YOU STEVE)
(P. P. S. I MEAN IT OVERDOSE EFFECTS ARE VERY PAINFUL DON’T DO IT)
jim chuckled, “looks like wizard dad has left us a present.”
he turned the potion bottle around to get a good look at the golden liquid shimmering within it as it swirled. jim uncorked the bottle and smelled. it was a pleasant scent, sort of reminded him of the way trollmarket smelled on a trollish holiday. he trusted douxie, so he took a swig.
instantly, the pain in jim’s aching muscles subsided. huh. magic.
he passed the flask over to claire like a pirate sharing his last bit of rum with the crewmate beside him. one sip and she was back to being her radiant self, the fatigue slipping away from her bones.
“ooh. nice! it’s tastes like mazapán.”
“really? i thought it tasted like aebleskiver.”
“hmmm. well we can’t take another sip to see who’s wrong.”
jim laughed, “let’s just agree that it tastes good.”
claire stretched out her now good-as-new muscles, “mmm makes you feel good too. let’s remember to thank douxie next time we see him,”
“of course,”
they left the bottle on top of the bench, where the next lucky kids would find it. hopefully steve would heed the warning. if he even reads it before drinking. you can only hope.
