Stand Against the Dark | Glowfic Constellation

Farah eventually returns carrying what looks like a large bundle of bow-string. "Hello again."

"Hi," greets Evelyn. "The bowyer went well?"

"Well enough, yes. Have you reached a decision?"

"If the offer of training still stands, I'd like to accept that and then hopefully head for Flight School. My mother probably will not follow to London."

Nod. "Yes, it does. I see that you've packed - it should be no trouble to bring most of it to my post, but you may have to leave that one, or have it sent to the post later. You will probably want a carriage and a ferry berth to get to London, rather than trying to fly yourself there, unless you pick up flying exceptionally well."

She nods. "I'm not sure I have the currency for that? I don't know what they'd take."

"Measures should work until the ferry. And you can bet there will be moneychangers at Calais, you can get shillings and pence that way."

Evelyn looks to her mother, then back at Farah.

"I think I'm ready to go, then."

"Then we should get going if we want to get to the post by nightfall."

"Do I need to carry this stuff somewhere?"

She picks up her rucksack from the group of bags.

Farah picks up a few other bags. "My wing is in the square, we'll sling them under it for the trip."

Off they go. The 'wing' doesn't look all that much like a broom - well, the general shape is there, but this is clearly something much more specialized. She slings the bags onto hooks and pulls out a map and some kind of circular tool, peering at them.

The reaction of the townspeople seeing her leave with an army Witch is half worried, half well-wishing.

Evelyn hugs her mother goodbye, briefly, and tries to put on a brave face for the rest of town.

"Hm, first lesson, pay attention. This is a compass. You might not have heard of them before. But they're absolutely essential for finding your way around when flying. The needle always points toward magnetic north. To get home from here, I have to go just slightly North of East. That's 'heading 80'. I'll explain heading later. So we turn until the needle lines up like so on the '80' line..." And she points. "And we go that way. Right, let's get you strapped in for your first flight. I bet you'll enjoy it. Sit here..."

She brings up two sets of leather straps with a sort of metal buckle at the end that latch to each other over her legs and lap. "Tell me if you're getting nervous or uncomfortable. Flying is not a game, and I don't want to push you too hard."

"– I'm going to be flying it?"

"What? No! No. Even being a passenger frightens some people."

Oh phew.

She doesn't say that aloud.

"Okay. Uh. You've – I assume you've done this lots of times before, with a passenger?"

"Yes. Passengers are what couriers carry as often as cargo, in fact." She sighs. "You know, I was already old when this war broke out. That's why I have this post - it needs a Witch in it, and here I am, not all that useful for fighting since I don't have much magic."

… Evelyn nods, lightly frowning. "I think I should be okay," she says. "With flying, I mean."

"Then let's get going."

Farah settles into the second seat, in front of Evelyn.

The 'wing gently hovers. There might be a subtle thrumming in it. Magic.

Evelyn holds on, trying to help keep herself stable despite the fastenings.

(She's going to be flying! She… is going to be flying! She is going to be in the air, so high up, held in the sky by magic. … It's somewhat frightening.)

Farah leans forward and shifts her grip on the handles at the front. They start moving forward and slightly up. It would be like riding a horse if a horse's motions were eerily smooth.

"Want me to stay low and slow, or want to go higher and get a nice view?"

"I think, for now, low and slow might be best?"