Chapter 39. The Surprised Pixies
After a period of effort, the virtual coins once again reached one thousand, earning a chance at a draw.
But Duncan didn't pay attention to that for the moment.
All his attention was caught by the magical item called the Hero Statue.
He put away the bandages from the ground, said goodbye to the two Erumpents, and carried the iron bucket toward the area where the kelpie lived.
At the same time, he opened the pack that held his items.
His gaze skimmed over the slots and settled on a small stone statuette.
The statuette depicted a man with a resolute face and a burly build.
He wore heavy armour, with several claw-like gouges over the chest as if some fierce beast had raked it.
Both hands rested on a greatsword.
The cloak behind him lifted slightly, giving him a mighty, imposing air.
[Hero Statue: A statue of the medieval dragon-slayer, Fenrir Bodmor.]
[Note 1: Fenrir Bodmor was a very unorthodox wizard. He greatly admired physical strength and devised a regimen to strengthen the body. He proved the feasibility of his training by slaughtering a fire dragon. However, it was so arduous that almost no one but him could persist, and his method has long since been lost to the tides of time.]
[Note 2: Possessing the statue of Fenrir Bodmor can dispel fear in one's heart and embolden the spirit.]
[Note 3: Call upon "Fenrir Bodmor" devoutly, and the statue will activate and fight for you (uses ×2).]
"Seems like a pretty good thing," Duncan thought silently.
An image surfaced in his mind.
He opened the case; uncountable magical creatures thundered out; a gigantic statue descended from the sky and swung its greatsword at the enemy.
He seemed to be walking further and further down the path of a summoner.
"We'll definitely give those wizards a fright then," Duncan murmured with a faint upward curl of his mouth as he arrived at the lakeside.
The kelpie was churning up the centre of the lake.
Under its urging, the clear water sometimes vaulted high, forming a wall that nearly crashed into the sky to brush the clouds, and sometimes plunged down with a roar to smash out a crater like a meteor strike.
It was squandering its strength as if overdrawing its very life, venting the pain in its heart.
Duncan hastily took out the Druid Whistle and blew it.
The pleasant tone echoed, and as the leaping water fell, Mori's eyes regained clarity.
It let out a long breath, swam along the water to Duncan's side, and said hoarsely, "Duncan, I feel awful…"
"I know," Duncan said, stroking Mori's neck and setting the iron bucket before it.
"Eat. Then have a good sleep. Perhaps by the time you wake, I'll have found a way to treat you."
Mori nodded in silence.
It buried its head in the bucket and forced the chunks of meat down.
The bitter aftertaste of the potion lingered in its mouth, refusing to fade, and its expression grew uglier by the moment.
Still, the potion worked very well.
Duncan sat on the ground and chatted with Mori for a while.
Before the Druid Whistle's magic had even worn off, Mori was overwhelmed by drowsiness and fell into a deep sleep.
"Sleep a bit more…" Duncan exhaled, said goodbye to Mori, and hurried back to the dormitory.
Neville was still sleeping sweetly, smacking his lips from time to time and grinning foolishly, as if he were having a lovely dream.
Duncan picked the duvet up from the floor where it had slipped, left a note, and set off to find Hogwarts's only expert on magical creatures—Professor Silvanus Kettleburn—to sound him out about whether there was a way to cure Mori.
He left the dormitory and went along the corridor.
A few students were lounging in the common room, leafing lazily through books on the soft sofas.
They all seemed to know Duncan.
As he passed, they greeted him warmly and shared snacks with him.
Duncan grabbed a few at random, asked where Professor Kettleburn's office was, thanked them, and took his leave.
On the third floor of the castle, Duncan jogged up the stairs, turned a corner, and stopped before a door with a brass nameplate that read "Silvanus Kettleburn," filmed over with a thin layer of dust.
"Professor Kettleburn, are you in?" Duncan knocked and called.
No one answered, but the door wasn't locked.
With Duncan's knock, it slowly shifted open a crack.
Duncan poked his head inside and immediately smelled a blend of odours—various feeds and the scents animals give off.
Although Newt kept many creatures at home, the space there was large and the feeds were stored in designated areas.
On top of that, Tina was particular about cleanliness, so their home never smelled especially bad.
"Professor Kettleburn really ought to give this place a proper clean," Duncan thought with a frown, then called out again.
"Who? Who's looking for Silvanus?" rasped a voice, tinged with puzzlement.
Several small creatures, shut in an iron cage and previously tussling with great excitement, froze at once.
Their large eyes swivelled toward the doorway.
Their whole bodies were electric blue.
They stood about eight inches tall.
They had no wings, yet they could fly.
"Cornish pixies?" Duncan's brows lifted.
Cornish pixies are small magical creatures native to Cornwall.
They are viviparous and extremely mischievous, fond of pranks, and will seize people by the ears when unguarded, hoisting them up to drop them on treetops or rooftops.
When they converse, they chatter in high-pitched voices that only they themselves truly understand.
"Excuse me, where is Professor Kettleburn?" Duncan asked the pixies in the cage.
"Upstairs!" "No, he's downstairs!"
Two pixies contradicted each other and squared up, about to roll up their sleeves for another bout.
Just then, another pixie took advantage of the distraction to creep from a corner to the bars.
Clutching the iron rods in both hands, it said, "He went to the shed in the Forest. A big fellow came and fetched him. They looked rather anxious when they left."
"Why did you tell him?"
"Traitor!"
"You should've let him try upstairs first, then come back to us!"
"No, why upstairs? We should've sent him downstairs!"
The two quarrelsome pixies turned in unison and berated the informant together.
But their united front didn't last long.
They were soon shrieking again and grappling with each other.
"Thank you," Duncan said, his head aching from the incessant chattering.
He waved quickly, closed the door, and left.
"Enough!" yelled the pixie by the bars.
"Didn't you notice? That human could understand what we were saying!"
"What's so special about that? He's just—"
One pixie retorted with scorn, but after a couple of sentences it sensed something amiss.
Together with the other pixies, its eyes went wide.
They hung in the air as if Petrified, unmoving for a long moment.
A moment later, the pixies went mad, flinging themselves around the cage and thudding against the iron with frantic wings.
"He could understand us?"
"How can a human understand what we say?"
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