...warning, some swearing ahead
Fitz looked down at an odd angular block coming out of the ground. It was too far down to tell if it was just a rock, but just looking at it made him feel...angry. “Snek, go check it out. “. Snek folded his wings and plunged 1200 feet down like a bolt. Just before hitting the ground, he leveled out and flared his wings, coming to a gentle slithering landing.
A few minutes later Snek and Fitz were flying south again, the dark block stuffed in a bag of holding. The aura of anger couldn’t invade Fitz’s mood from in there. “Darkness fucks leaving all their shit behind, bastards knew they were going out and they tried leaving traps and corruption anyways. If only those dumbass villagers didn’t play with every damn piece of...” Wait. Fitz gave himself a shake. The anger was a quick contagion, a few seconds of close contact and he was cursing up a storm.
“Snek, take us to the shop, I’m going to meditate.” Calm seeped back into Fitz. When his eyes finally opened again, his broom of flying was hovering just above the containment box he built for the Darkness’s left behind magical artifacts. Snek held the lid open. As Fitz dumped the anger block in, he felt, just for a moment, that the hundreds of dangerous items peaking out of the shadows of the box might be enough to counterbalance the mistakes he had made in the Feywild. A dull pain grew behind his eyes. “No. I shall never go back.”
The lid slammed shut with nobody to care, because Fitz and Snek were already back in the air.
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