Chapter 8 The Magicycle
Drake snored loudly, sprawled out on the floor of his workshop with one hand clutching an empty bottle and the other resting on a pile of enchanted gears. Around him, tools, scraps of metal, and glowing runes littered the floor like the aftermath of a chaotic storm.
His head lolled to the side, and the dreams came.
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Drake was standing in the middle of the strangest village he had ever seen. The sky was blue—too blue—and the air smelled suspiciously clean, like it had never known the tang of magic crystals or the burning of enchanted forges. The buildings were plain, made of some smooth, uniform stone, and there wasn’t a single rune or magical glow in sight.
“What in the…” Drake muttered, scratching his head.
Suddenly, a group of children zipped past him, laughing and shouting. His jaw dropped. They weren’t running—they were sitting on peculiar contraptions with two wheels, pedaling furiously as the machines rolled effortlessly beneath them.
Drake blinked, his inventor’s mind racing. “Oi!” he shouted, waving his arms. “Hold on a minute! What are those things?”
The children slowed, glancing at him with wide, suspicious eyes. One of them, a freckle-faced boy, tilted his head. “What’s what?”
“Those!” Drake pointed dramatically at the strange contraptions. “Those rolling… whatchamacallits! Are they cursed? Are they enchanted?”
The children exchanged confused looks before bursting into laughter.
“They’re bikes, mister!” one girl said, spinning in a circle on hers.
“Bikes?” Drake repeated, tasting the word. “Bikes… short for... bipedal constructs?”
“No,” the freckled boy said, shaking his head. “Just bikes.”
Drake frowned. “And you’re telling me they move without magic? No enchantments? No runes?”
“Yeah,” the boy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You just pedal.”
Drake squinted at him. “Pedal? Is that some kind of spell?”
“It’s actually called a bicycle,” the taller boy added proudly. He tapped one pedal and said, “Bi,” then pointed to the other, “because there’s two.” Next, he motioned a circle in the air with his hand. “And cycle, you know, because the pedals move in a circle.” To demonstrate, he turned the pedals with exaggerated motions, showing the smooth rotation that propelled the bike forward.
Drake blinked, processing the explanation. “Two… circles… moving together?” He scratched his head, his expression a mixture of awe and utter confusion. “That’s… absurdly simple. And it works?!?”
Yeah… the taller boy simply replied
Drake’s jaw dropped. “By the gods… you mean to tell me you’ve harnessed raw physical energy to power this device?!”
The freckled boy scratched his head. “I guess? You’re kinda weird.”
Drake ignored the insult, his mind spinning. “No mana crystals, no stabilizing charms, no elemental bindings…” He grabbed the taller boy’s bike, inspecting it closely. “What kind of sorcery is this?!”
“It’s not sorcery!” the taller boy protested, trying to wrestle his bike back. “It’s just a bike! Everyone has one!”
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Drake released the bike, stumbling back in awe. “Everyone? Even the king?”
The freckled boy snorted. “Kings don’t ride bikes, mister. They have cars.”
Drake’s face contorted in confusion. “Cars? What in the Nine Realms is a car?”
“Uh… it’s like a big bike,” the girl explained, “but with an engine and four wheels.”
Drake stared at her like she’d just invented gravity. “A big bike with four wheels? Impossible.”
“Not really,” the taller boy said, rolling his eyes. “You’re kinda dumb, huh?”
“I am not dumb!” Drake snapped, crossing his arms. “I am an inventor. A genius!”
“Uh-huh,” the freckled boy said, smirking. “Sure you are.”
Drake opened his mouth to argue, but the scene around him began to blur. The children’s laughter echoed in his ears, mingling with the hum of unseen energy.
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Drake woke with a start, his head pounding and his mouth dry.
The workshop was still a mess, and the faint smell of magic crystals lingered in the air. But in the center of the room, bathed in the light of a flickering rune lamp, was… something.
Drake stumbled to his feet, his memories hazy but his excitement growing. Two wheels, a wooden frame, pedals—was this the thing from his dream?
“I… I made it?” he whispered, running a hand over the contraption.
The runes etched into the frame pulsed faintly, like they were alive. The core in the center glowed with an otherworldly blue light, casting shadows across the workshop.
Drake grinned. “Oh, this is genius.”
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By the time the sun rose, Drake had dragged the contraption outside. He rolled it into the village square, where the early risers were already setting up shop.
The villagers paused, their eyes widening as they took in the bizarre creation.
“What in the seven hells is that?” asked Fergus, the blacksmith, wiping his hands on his apron.
Drake puffed out his chest. “This, my dear Fergus, is a revolutionary mode of transportation. I call it… the Magicycle!”
Fergus snorted. “Looks like a cart that forgot its horse.”
“It doesn’t need a horse!” Drake declared, climbing onto the seat. “It moves with pedals and magic. Observe!”
The villagers gathered as Drake tapped the glowing core. The runes flared to life, and the contraption shuddered beneath him.
Drake pushed down on the pedals, and the Magicycle lurched forward. The crowd gasped as it began to move, faster and smoother with each rotation of the pedals.
“By the gods, it works!” someone shouted.
“It’s floating! No—it’s rolling!”
Drake leaned into the handlebars, his laughter echoing through the square. “Behold, the future of travel!”
But as he sped around the fountain, a stray dog darted into his path.
“Move, mutt!” Drake shouted, yanking the handlebars.
The Magicycle veered sharply, and—
CRASH.
Drake tumbled off, landing in a pile of hay as the contraption skidded to a halt. The crowd erupted into laughter, and Fergus doubled over, clutching his sides.
“Future of travel, eh?” the blacksmith roared. “More like the future of making a fool of yourself!”
Drake groaned, brushing hay off his tunic. “Alright, maybe it needs a few tweaks.”
“A few?” Fergus said, smirking. “Try a complete overhaul.”
Drake ignored him, dragging the Magicycle upright. He tapped the core again, inspecting the runes.
“It just needs stabilizers,” he muttered. “And maybe some brakes…”
“You made it without brakes?” Fergus asked, incredulous.
“I was drunk!” Drake snapped, earning another round of laughter from the villagers.
Despite the mishap, Drake couldn’t shake the feeling that he was onto something. He had seen a vision of a world where children rode bikes without magic, where invention trumped enchantment. And now, he had created something that could bring that vision to life.
“Mark my words,” Drake said, standing tall. “This Magicycle is going to change the world.”
The villagers chuckled, but there was a spark of curiosity in their eyes. Even Fergus, who teased him mercilessly, couldn’t hide his intrigue.
As Drake pushed the Magicycle back into his workshop, he grinned.
He wasn’t just an inventor. He was a dreamer. And sometimes, dreams were all you needed.