Felix Megistus - Chapter Five

I emerged from beneath the mountain of relics, brushing off the dust and remnants of ancient magic. My gaze flickered to Liora, her presence a stark contrast to the chaos of his sanctum. She stood there, serene and unyielding, a symbol of everything I wanted to reject.

My eyes traced her form, detailing her appeal with a mixture of admiration and disdain. The way her hair caught the light, the confidence in her stance—it was infuriatingly deceptive. I cannot be allured by the siren twice. I cannot afford another fatal mistake.

"So, what's the big quest this time?" Liora asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

I hesitated, knowing the reaction my next words would provoke. "Chymes' Codex."

Liora's eyes widened, then narrowed with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "Are you out of your mind, Felix? Chymes' Codex? That's a myth, a legend!"

"What would Joe Smith call everything in this fairy pocket dimension," I replied, my tone defensive.

She shook her head, stepping closer. "This is beyond reckless, even for you. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're inviting?"

"I can handle it," I snapped, irritation creeping into my voice.

"Handle it?" she echoed, her voice rising. "You couldn't even handle '99 without nearly getting yourself killed!"

My face darkened. "Bring up that summer one more time and I will banish you to who-knows-where."

"THIS IS THE SAME EXACT PRELUDE FELIX!" she challenged. "You're diving headfirst into something that might not even exist, without forethought, help, or an exit strategy. You're risking everything for a ghost story- again."

"Stay out of it, Liora," I warned, dropping my voice and almost growling, "I don't need your interference."

"Interference?" she scoffed. "If interference is stopping you from killing yourself, then I'll interfere! If I can't, your godfather certainly can. Your death is certainly something I would do anything to stop, Felix."

"I don't need you to stop me," he retorted. "I need you to either help or get out of my way."

Liora's expression softened, her eyes filled with concern. "Felix, this isn't like you. You're chasing shadows, driven by madness. What happened to the man who fought with reason and strategy?"

"I ascended beyond your understanding," I replied bitterly.

She took a deep breath, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "Felix, please. This isn't just about you."

I said coldly. "I don't need your pity or your advice."

"Fine," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "But I'm not leaving. I'll stay and help, whether you like it or not."

With a shake of my head, I turned my attention to the armillary globe. I chanted, the words flowing smoothly from my lips, scrying the location of Chymes' Codex. Silence greeted me. No response.

"Great," I muttered. "Time for a trip, Liora."

"To Paris?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, still simmering with residual anger from their argument.

"Well... to Carnac first, then Paris," I replied with a begrudging tone.

Liora crossed her arms, a smirk playing at her lips. "The energy saved by using a nexus point isn't worth a six-hour journey, Felix."

I scoffed. "Then you do it."

"Fine," she said, stepping up to the armillary sphere. She placed her hands on the intricate device, focusing her energy. "Let's see... a suitable location in Paris..."

I watched her, irritation simmering just below the surface. "Idiot," I muttered. "The bridge must be outside of city limits at nearest."

Liora sighed, adjusting her focus. "Alright, alright. Forêt de Meudon should do."

We stepped onto my transport platform, the world around us warping and twisting as we sunk into the border of realities. When we emerged, I found myself in a circle of mushrooms by a serene pond in the middle of the woods.

Felix pointed to the pond. "Fetch some rocks from the lake while I mark the circle."

Liora rolled her eyes but complied, wading into the water to gather stones. I moved around the circle, inscribing runes and symbols, anchoring their presence in this new location. Once we had piled the rocks around the mushrooms, I memorized the surroundings—the pond, the big tree, and the city off northwest.

Our hike through the woods was uneventful until they encountered a couple camping. My brusque manner elicited a rude exchange, but we quickly moved on, emerging on the streets of Meudon. Myself and Liora walked to the taxi stand, of course with me taking the lead.

When a cab pulled up, I spoke to the driver in fluent French, my tone authoritative. "Le Louvre, s'il vous plaît." I slipped euros, which manifested from my inner jacket pocket, into the driver's hand.

As we climbed into the cab, Liora attempted to start a pleasant conversation. "So, have you been to Paris before?"

My mood soured immediately. "I'm not here for sightseeing, Liora. Focus on the task."

She bit back a retort, settling into silence as the cab wound its way through the streets. The tension between them was palpable, a mixture of unspoken history and current frustrations. While Liora stared out the window, I planned the game. First the Louvre, to find Baptiste. If Baptiste has a lead, that would simplify a whole lot.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Liora couldn't hold back any longer. "You know, Felix, this whole lone wolf act is getting old."

For a long moment, I glared at her. "Wolves typically live for 16 years, actually."

"Felix!" she said, her voice rising. "Always pushing everyone away, thinking you can handle everything on your own. It's not just reckless; it's selfish."

"Selfish?" I scoffed. "I'm the one out here sacrificing my safety for others!"

"Sacrificing your safety? Don't pretend this isn't your obsession with atonement," Liora shot back. "You never let anyone in. You never let anyone help. You think you're the only one who can do anything about it."

"Because I am," I snapped. "Every time I've trusted someone..."

"Not everyone is out to betray you, Felix," she said, her tone softening slightly. "I'm not out to betray you."

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling over. "Because you already did! Everyone did. Every stone I turn reveals a knife. I'm just a few shy of the Julius Collection. Trust killed me."

Liora sighed, her expression a mix of exasperation, sympathy, and guilt. "You think you're the only one with scars? We've all been through hell, Felix. But shutting people out isn't the answer."

"I have. You haven't." I muttered, looking away. "I'm not shutting anyone out that does not deserve it."

"Then what do you call this?" she asked, gesturing between them. "You won't even let me in on what you're really after. Chymes' Codex? That's an obvious lie-"

My jaw tightened. "You do not deserve trust, and this.... it's not your concern."

"It is if it gets you killed," she said firmly. "Or worse."

"Why do you care so much?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Liora met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "Because I care about you, idiot. Even if you don't think you deserve it."

I was silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling into the air within the cab. "Care about me? That's rich."

I turned away, refusing to acknowledge Liora any longer, when the cab driver glanced at us through the rearview mirror. Sensing an opportunity to do anything else, I leaned forward.

"Excusez-moi," I began in French, forcing a smile. "Avez-vous des recommandations de restaurants à Paris? Je cherche quelque chose de typiquement français." ("Do you have any restaurant recommendations in Paris? I'm looking for something typically French.")

The cabbie's eyes lit up, glad for the distraction. "Ah, bien sûr! Vous devez essayer Le Comptoir du Relais. C'est un petit bistrot avec une cuisine incroyable." ("Ah, of course! You must try Le Comptoir du Relais. It's a small bistro with incredible cuisine.")

I nodded appreciatively. "Merci, ça a l'air parfait. Et qu'en est-il des attractions moins connues? Des endroits que les touristes ne visitent pas souvent?" ("Thank you, that sounds perfect. And what about lesser-known attractions? Places that tourists don't often visit?")

The cabbie chuckled. "Ah, si vous voulez découvrir un côté plus tranquille de Paris, je vous recommande les jardins de Bagatelle dans le Bois de Boulogne. C'est magnifique, surtout au printemps." ("Ah, if you want to discover a quieter side of Paris, I recommend the Bagatelle gardens in the Bois de Boulogne. It's magnificent, especially in spring.")

"Je vais prendre note," I said, glancing at Liora, who was watching us with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. ("I'll make a note of it,")

"Vous êtes ici pour longtemps?" the cabbie asked. ("Are you here for long?")

"Pas très longtemps," I replied. "Juste assez pour régler quelques affaires." ("Not very long. Just enough to settle some business.")

The cabbie nodded knowingly. "Paris a toujours un moyen de captiver les visiteurs. Profitez bien de votre séjour." ("Paris always has a way of captivating visitors. Enjoy your stay.")

"Merci," I said, leaning back in the seat, feeling the tension ease slightly. I shot Liora a sidelong glance, my expression softening just a bit.

Liora smiled, a real, genuine smile. "You're right. Sometimes, it's nice to just talk."

The rest of the cab ride passed in a more relaxed silence, the argument momentarily forgotten. As the taxi approached the Louvre, I steeled my nerves. The game was on.

We arrived at the Louvre, the cab gliding to a stop with the precision only a Parisian driver could manage. I slipped the cabbie a generous tip and thanked him.

"Merci, mon ami," I said with true gratitude, before turning my attention to the iconic glass pyramid entrance.

The structure stood majestically, its reflective panels capturing the beauty of the surrounding architecture and the bustle of tourists. The dead weight, Liora, also exited the cab, sticking closely behind me.

"You look like an idiot with all those charms hanging off your jacket," she remarked, her voice filled with sarcasm.

I ignored her, my focus set on the task at hand. Each charm, each trinket, served a purpose, and I had no time to explain their significance to someone who wouldn't understand. I marched toward the museum, slipping effortlessly into the employee rooms. The familiarity of the route and the soft hum of ancient magic in the air were oddly comforting.

"Bonjour, Felis! Comment ça va?" Jacquéz, one of the security staff, called out to me with a friendly wave.

"Bonjour, Jean. Je vais bien, merci. Et toi?" I replied courteously, maintaining a polite façade as I moved past them. The security staff knew me well enough not to question my comings and goings, and I appreciated their discretion. 

"Très bien, merci!" Jean responded with a smile before turning back to his post.

I continued deeper into the museum, making my way to the entrance of the undercity of Paris. This hidden gateway, known only to a select few, led to a labyrinth of passages and caverns that sprawled beneath the city. The air grew cooler and more humid as we descended, the faint echoes of distant footsteps creating an eerie soundtrack to our journey.

"Does Baptiste still live by the Lutin's bar?" Liora's voice broke the silence, her tone surprisingly gentle.

No time to waste on humoring my personal Brutus. I continued, maintaining my pace through the winding streets. The magical overlap of the city was disorienting to outsiders, making it seem as though you were in multiple places at once while being nowhere at all—a true Schrodinger's superposition.

I glanced back a few times to see Liora deliberately placing her steps into my former ones. The enchanted pathways shifted subtly every day, on a fairly easy to memorize schedule that loops every few centuries. 

We arrived at the bar, its stools lined up on the sidewalk, a small army of short red-hat-wearing humanoids, lutins, busying themselves with various tasks. Their cheerful chatter and efficient movements created a lively atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the moonlit cave space. Pouring drinks, polishing glasses, sweeping, cleaning plates—their efficiency was remarkable.

"They're always so cute," Liora commented, a hint of warmth in her voice as she watched the things at work.

I passed by without acknowledging any hypothetical 'cuteness', my focus on the door next to the bar. I knocked five times, and a series of wards lit up and began to sizzle like a fuse. The air crackled with energy as the protective spells recognized my presence.

"Disarm," I commanded, and the sigils dissolved harmlessly, their power dissipating into the ether.

"Baptiste! It's Felix," I called out. "Open before I say to."

A gruff voice accented in French from inside responded, "Go away, Felis! Before you kill me."

I turned the knob and entered, narrowly dodging a flying vase that shattered against the wall where my head had been moments before. I stepped inside, ready for whatever came next. The room was dimly lit, filled with the scent of old books and lingering magic.

Baptiste sat in the middle of the room, his eyes blazing with fury. His once-dark hair was now streaked with gray, and his face bore the lines of many hard years.

"I beg-ed fa me leaf!" he shouted, his thick French accent more pronounced in his anger. "S'ill yu bards in here, mowchking moi plea!"

"Baptiste, who is the current owner of...," I said, raising my hands in a placating gesture. "...Chymes' Codex."

"Yua phool." He responded. "Yu vell be a kill-ed!"

I really am growing to hate the word fool.