He's as ready as he's going to be.
It's an inescapable fact now. The pull of his world and by default the door is unbearable. His remaining time here can be measured in days.
Hours.
Minutes. Who knows?
In his room, which is oddly illuminated today, he stands examining the various items he'd placed on his bed.
Sword. Dagger. Knife.
Bow [that he asked Bar for, with much discussion involved between them]. Arrows.
His father's wand.
Three sacks full of coin he'll need should he be in the position to require buying something.
The card depicting the Nine of Swords. That from Wheel.
And the gifts from Moon [the glass bird in a cage], Arianrhod [the glass ball with the wolf-spirit inside it; a reflection of a living wolf somewhere in the world], and Asar-Suti [the Ficus bengamini]. The plant will stay here, of course. It'd be hard to live life on the run and look after a fig tree at the same time. So it gets set aside, on a table. With a sun charm placed above it to provide it with light. But no heat. Safety first, even in magic.
But the other things. They will be going too. The money and the gifts into a small satchel he'll wear about his waist, spelled small so as to fit the confines.
The spare wand will be placed somewhere on him that the Death Eaters will not bother to look, as they already know where he keeps his own wand.
Now for the weapons. They will be concealled in wizard space, to make certain only he knows where they are. Wizards don't as a rule use melee weapons but no chances can be taken. This is serious.
Once everything is placed in a spot he's satisfied with that allows for easy deployment he puts on the satchel, the wand and its holster, and the weapons.
From now on he carries them everywhere, because he could be going home at any time.
There is, however, this matter of asking Asar-Suti for lessons on his next animal shape. Since time is in short supply it'll have to be done now. Not later. Later isn't coming.
He writes a note and asks the first rat he sees to deliver it to the god, with spare parchment for a reply....
Hours.
Minutes. Who knows?
In his room, which is oddly illuminated today, he stands examining the various items he'd placed on his bed.
Sword. Dagger. Knife.
Bow [that he asked Bar for, with much discussion involved between them]. Arrows.
His father's wand.
Three sacks full of coin he'll need should he be in the position to require buying something.
The card depicting the Nine of Swords. That from Wheel.
And the gifts from Moon [the glass bird in a cage], Arianrhod [the glass ball with the wolf-spirit inside it; a reflection of a living wolf somewhere in the world], and Asar-Suti [the Ficus bengamini]. The plant will stay here, of course. It'd be hard to live life on the run and look after a fig tree at the same time. So it gets set aside, on a table. With a sun charm placed above it to provide it with light. But no heat. Safety first, even in magic.
But the other things. They will be going too. The money and the gifts into a small satchel he'll wear about his waist, spelled small so as to fit the confines.
The spare wand will be placed somewhere on him that the Death Eaters will not bother to look, as they already know where he keeps his own wand.
Now for the weapons. They will be concealled in wizard space, to make certain only he knows where they are. Wizards don't as a rule use melee weapons but no chances can be taken. This is serious.
Once everything is placed in a spot he's satisfied with that allows for easy deployment he puts on the satchel, the wand and its holster, and the weapons.
From now on he carries them everywhere, because he could be going home at any time.
There is, however, this matter of asking Asar-Suti for lessons on his next animal shape. Since time is in short supply it'll have to be done now. Not later. Later isn't coming.
He writes a note and asks the first rat he sees to deliver it to the god, with spare parchment for a reply....