Melbourne. A collection of a-stringent synapses, ley-lines,
and otherwise intersecting waves of thought and power. There were different
people everywhere, not a one was the same. It was fascinating. Even more so
than London. Morpheus was having trouble focussing, there were new things all
over the place, every nook and cranny had something different to look at. There
were cafes and eating places; you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting some
tiny shop full of fascinating goods – not that you would be swinging cats in
Bast’s presence. More than once, Alyxa had to haul him away from a window
behind which lights flickered and masses of fabric folded themselves into
masterpieces of fashion. Intoxicating humanity and its ingenuity.
-You’re like a week-old kitten, Dream King, seriously, get a
grip,- Bast hissed at him the fourth time she and Alyxa had to come back for
him.
“Sensory overload,” Alyxa said with a shrug, “we’re lucky he
wasn’t like this on the plane.”
-He was like this on the plane, you just didn’t notice.-
“That’s not the point,” Alyxa murmured, pulling Morpheus
away from a bookstore window.
Suddenly, Morpheus looked away, staring down the street. His
eyes were violently green slits as he scanned the people wandering the
pavement.
“Morpheus?” Alyxa asked, but he was moving away from them,
darting down the street.
-Fishsticks and – what’s got into him?!-
They raced after him, struggling not to lose him in the
crowds. When they finally caught up he was standing in front of the smallest
shop Alyxa had ever seen. Before either of them could ask what had drawn him
here, Morpheus opened the door and went inside without looking back.
“What on earth?”
-Well, well...look at that,- Bast mused, looking up at the
shop sign.
In gilded letters, glowing: ‘Magicks and Lore’.
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