Chapter 202: Oz
They got along quite well at first, but when they reached the middle of the river the swift current swept the raft downstream, farther and farther away from the road of yellow brick. And the water grew so deep that the long poles would not touch the bottom.
“This is bad,” said the Tin Woodman, “for if we cannot get to the land we shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of the West, and she will enchant us and make us her slaves.”
“And then I should get no brains,” said the Scarecrow.
“And I should get no courage,” said the Cowardly Lion.
“And I should get no heart,” said the Tin Woodman.
“And I should never get back to Kansas,” said Dorothy.
- L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, (1900, 2nd Era)
The air was chill, despite waking up to a sun burning up his skin. Erec’s nose was numb and dry as the cool of the morning took its throne with the season. Winter was coming in full now, and by the time the tournament reigned, this crisp air would be king. The changing temperature was unfamiliar; given his life below, he did not have to worry about the cold. However, he’d heard stories and knew this was coming.
Erec groggily raised his head to look at their campfire. It was long burned out, and now, it is nothing but a pile of ash. The mugs made of clay Dame Morgana manifested last night no longer existed—the bits of rock near his hand, though, made him suspect they’d simply returned to the earth after fulfilling their purpose.