Legends of Frost: the Battle of Ancient Magic

3. A study in Magic and Etiquette (2)

Alfie landed unceremoniously. The feel of mud giving way under his weight, the smell of rain staining the surfaces of rocks registered in his senses first. He groaned, feeling the ground rock and somersault above him. Alfie had just enough time to get to his feet, stumble onto an empty space before he lost his lunch over the muddy grass.

Professor Fig hobbled over, gently patting Alfie's back as he retched. "I do apologise... first time travellers via the portkey is always a nasty experience."

Alfie sighed heavily, lifting himself to stand upright as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "I'm hoping we won't be doing that again... Apparition is one thing but... this feels like the entire world is spinning..." Alfie wheezed.

"I promise... no use of the portkey unless absolutely necessary," Professor Fig supplied helpfully, pausing long enough to ensure that Alfie had recovered from his sickness. Professor Fig dug into his coat pocket and produced a single wrapped yellow candy for Alfie who took it with a small hint of hesitance.

"It should help with the nausea..." said Professor Fig, smiling as he moved to take Alfie's suitcase and started forward.

Alfie looked at the candy for a brief moment, unwrapped it and popped the yellow orb-shaped candy into his mouth. Immediately, he could taste the tanginess of the lemon. The sharp zest cut through the lingering discomfort, gently coaxing the queasiness away. With each delicate suck, the refreshing essence of lemon enveloped his senses, like a cool breeze on a warm summer's day, gradually soothing his troubled stomach and bringing a sense of calm.

Finally, Alfie had gathered a bit of strength to follow Professor Fig who is several paces ahead of him. Alfie broke into a light jog to catch up to Professor Fig, swooping down slightly to take his suitcase from the old man, flashing a charming smile to let Professor Fig know that he was okay.

At some point in their walk, they crossed from grass to stone pathways. They followed the path snaking up to a slight hill. When they crested that hill, Alfie could see tiled roofs, in dreary colours with blackish smoke rising from their chimneys in the distance. Alfie marvelled at the sight spotting gas lamps lighting the streets, figures crossing from pavement to pavement dressed in intricate fabrics of lace, satin, or crinoline. There were carriages pulled by majestic horses, some carriages were completely closed; save for the little windows on either side of the doors, and some carriages were completely open; Alfie could see the passengers seated within those carriages, no doubt enjoying the warm evening breeze.

The boy was so lost in his senses that he was nearly run over by a carriage heading into the city, had it not been for Professor Fig who pulled him out of the way. Alfie stumbled, leaning against the Professor's arm as he glared at the carriage flying by them.

"Best stay alert there, Alfie! We wouldn't want you getting trampled by those carriages now would we?" Professor Fig said with a light laugh as Alfie dusted off his blue tunic and began into a comfortable step beside the Professor.

"It's not me that wants to be trampled with... likely whoever drives those carriages wants to trample me!" Alfie's tone was a mixture of shock and irritance held in an offensive bark to his words which carried over into a flurry of words in a foreign language that sounded even more offensive than Alfie's tone. Professor Fig's ears piqued with mild yet concerning interest at Alfie's reaction but disregarded it as nothing more than a boy new to his surroundings.

The city was utter chaos compared to when Alfie first spotted it from a distance. The air carries a medley of scents, intertwining the delicate aroma of blooming flowers with the lively notes of street food, all amidst the backdrop of a symphony composed of cheerful chatter and the occasional rumble of passing vehicles.