Jade: The Hybrid Mage

Chapter 10: Blooby

The carriage loomed ahead like a relic from a storybook—sleek and metallic, with intricate engravings glowing faintly in the early morning light. Its structure was unlike anything I had ever seen. No horses were tethered to it, yet it rested firmly on the ground, humming faintly with energy.

“This is your ride?” I asked, my voice betraying my disbelief.

“You’ve never seen magic engineering before?” Lydia asked, an amused glint in her eyes.

“Not like this.” My gaze traced the gleaming lines along the carriage, the faint blue aura emanating from its underside. “It moves without horses?”

Gidon snickered from behind me. “Not just moves, girl—it flies. Okay, maybe not flies, but it’s fast. Faster than anything you’ve ridden before.”

Inside, the wonder only grew. The carriage’s interior was a marvel of intricate machinery and cozy design. Gears and pipes ran along the walls, glowing softly as if alive. The seats were cushioned leather, worn but sturdy, and a centerpiece dominated the room: a mechanical contraption of brass and copper, its gears turning steadily in a mesmerizing rhythm.

“This . . . is amazing,” I whispered, my fingers brushing against the smooth surface of a nearby pipe.

“Wait till you meet Blooby,” Lydia said, grinning as she gestured toward a metallic figure seated near the corner.

At first glance, it looked like a small knight, forged from copper and brass. Standing no taller than a child, its body was an intricate latticework of gears and cogs. Its eyes glowed with a soft blue light, and its limbs hissed faintly with steam as it turned to face me.

“Blooby . . . bloob . . . is my name,” it said, its voice mechanical yet oddly gentle.

I jerked back instinctively, my heart racing.

Gidon burst into laughter. “Oh, I’ve missed this reaction! Priceless!”

“Did it just speak?” I blurted out, unable to hide my shock.

Lydia beamed with pride, leaning toward the small contraption. “Of course, he speaks. I built him to do so. My magic gives life to whatever I create—machine magic, or magic engineering, as some call it. And this little guy is my greatest invention.”

She crouched beside Blooby and opened a panel in his chest, revealing a glowing crystal nestled among the whirring mechanisms. “See this? Took me a year to forge. I condensed my energy into it daily. This crystal powers him. With it, Blooby can function for a hundred years without a recharge. Impressive, isn’t it?”

“It’s . . . incredible,” I admitted, unable to tear my eyes away from the crystal’s vibrant glow.

“You’re looking at a masterpiece,” Gidon chimed in, leaning against the wall with a grin.

I turned to Lydia. “But if your creations are this brilliant, why live like this? Why not work for the royals? I’ve heard they crave magic engineers like you.”

Lydia hesitated, her gaze shifting to Blooby before meeting mine. Her heartbeat quickened—a subtle, telling rhythm I could sense with my heightened awareness.

“You don’t have to answer,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

She smiled faintly. “It’s okay. You’re not wrong. Magic engineers are valued . . . until they’re not. The capital used me, exploited me, then cast me aside when I was no longer useful. But the boss saved me—saved all of us. And when he was punished for helping us, we went back for him.” Her voice grew softer. “We made a mess of things, but we got him out. Now we’re all fugitives, sticking together to survive.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pain. Lydia’s gaze lingered on me for a moment too long, her eyes narrowing slightly. I could feel the weight of her suspicion pressing against me, though she said nothing more.

Then she sniffed the air, her head snapping toward the center of the carriage. “Do you smell that?” she asked, her voice sharp and uneasy.

Now that she mentioned it, I caught it too—a faint, acrid scent that tingled at the back of my throat. Metallic and bitter, it was subtle but unmistakable.

“What is it?” I asked, a knot of dread forming in my stomach.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, her hand brushing against Blooby’s metal frame as though seeking reassurance. Her pupils dilated slightly, and I noticed a faint tremor in her fingers.

The acrid smell intensified, a sharp tang that seemed to cling to the air itself. My chest tightened as a strange dizziness swept over me. It was like a heavy weight pressing down on my body, numbing my limbs and fogging my mind. My breaths came shallow, each one harder to pull in than the last.

Lydia’s knees buckled, and she stumbled back into her seat.

“Lydia?” I reached for her, but she waved me off weakly.

“I . . . I can’t . . .” Her words faltered as her eyes fluttered shut.

“What’s happening?” Gidon slurred from his corner of the carriage, his usual bravado replaced by confusion. He swayed on his feet before crumpling into his seat.

Even Butcher, who had been sharpening his blade moments before, let it clatter to the floor as he slumped forward, unconscious.

“Spy,” Lydia whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. Her eyes flicked toward me, a mix of fear and accusation burning within them before her head lolled to the side.

My heart raced as panic surged through me. What was going on?

The strange smell thickened, and my limbs grew heavier. My vision blurred, and my body betrayed me. I fought to stay upright, clawing at consciousness, but it was no use. My last thought was of Naila, her voice faint and distant in my mind.

Then, darkness.

But the carriage didn’t stop.

Through the haze of unconsciousness, a faint hum persisted—a rhythmic, mechanical pulse that cut through the silence.

Blooby’s crystalline eyes glowed brighter, and his small, copper fingers adjusted knobs and levers with practiced precision. Steam hissed softly as his gears whirred into overdrive.

“Adjusting energy output,” Blooby muttered in his monotone voice, his core crystal pulsating faintly with light. “Redirecting power to maintain movement.”

The mechanical knight’s actions were deliberate, every motion calculated to keep the carriage moving. Despite the weight of his master slumped beside him, he worked tirelessly, siphoning just enough energy from his core to compensate for Lydia’s absence.

Outside, the landscape shifted as the carriage pressed onward, the strange fog trailing faintly in its wake.

Blooby’s glowing optics scanned the horizon, and though his expressionless face betrayed no emotion, his actions spoke of an unyielding resolve.

“Destination: Secure distance,” he murmured. “Continuing journey.”

The carriage rolled on into the unknown.