"Pragmatism and preparedness are virtues in the eyes of Julianos," Stratos replies loftily, taking his soon-to-be brother-in-law's teasing in good humor.
"She and Mother both. I suspect Uncle wasn't quite as staid as he pretends in his stories, though. Stratos is going to a cupboard and finding a spare knife, pulling it out of the sheath to check it before he tucks it back in and hands it to Jim. "Here. Best to be ready."
Even he and Felix were taught to carry some blade as backup. Even with their futures as battlemages spelled out from birth, their families made certain they knew how to handle a sword.
That done, however, the tribune shoulders his pack and lifts his PINpoint, reaching out to take Jim's arm. "Brace yourself, then."
Jim will find out what for in a second. There's a blast of hot, humid air, like they've jumped feet-first into a sauna. The sudden light hits them in the face, bright and dancing and green. Squinting against it as their eyes adjust, they'll find themselves standing among tree roots taller than they are, beneath a tree rising higher than any tower in Bruma. Around them is a jungle of other giants, vines and creepers cloaking their trunks, flora bursting into every patch of sunlight. Nearby a startled bird clacks out an alarm call, but it's lost in the trills and chirps and swooping calls echoing through the air above them.
"Welcome to Valenwood," Stratos says, though he sounds awed himself.
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"She and Mother both. I suspect Uncle wasn't quite as staid as he pretends in his stories, though. Stratos is going to a cupboard and finding a spare knife, pulling it out of the sheath to check it before he tucks it back in and hands it to Jim. "Here. Best to be ready."
Even he and Felix were taught to carry some blade as backup. Even with their futures as battlemages spelled out from birth, their families made certain they knew how to handle a sword.
That done, however, the tribune shoulders his pack and lifts his PINpoint, reaching out to take Jim's arm. "Brace yourself, then."
Jim will find out what for in a second. There's a blast of hot, humid air, like they've jumped feet-first into a sauna. The sudden light hits them in the face, bright and dancing and green. Squinting against it as their eyes adjust, they'll find themselves standing among tree roots taller than they are, beneath a tree rising higher than any tower in Bruma. Around them is a jungle of other giants, vines and creepers cloaking their trunks, flora bursting into every patch of sunlight. Nearby a startled bird clacks out an alarm call, but it's lost in the trills and chirps and swooping calls echoing through the air above them.
"Welcome to Valenwood," Stratos says, though he sounds awed himself.