Cecil had laughed inwardly the first time he got caught in that spell. He couldn't talk. It made no difference whatsoever. A nod to a fellow soldier was more than enough communication to coordinate the attack. The silence spell was the last mistake the enemy mage ever made.
When he had been promoted to commander he had been more wary, but the threat was still barely worth noting.
He had heard from Rosa that being under the spell was incredibly uncomfortable (like being too high up and gasping for air, a constriction of a nonexistent limb) but her attempts to explain were hindered by the fact that Cecil could absolutely not relate. He could relate with the feelings of helplessness, and so threw himself in the way of the spell whenever possible.
It had been a strange sensation when he had first found the magic inside himself, a tingling of the extremities and an awareness of dancing colors just beyond his range of vision. He'd quickly gotten used to it, and largely ignored it, preferring to rely on the more familiar weight of his sword.
It came as a surprise when, battling one of the many denizens haunting Baron's waterways, Cecil blocked a spell aimed at one of the twins and very suddenly had the distinct feeling that something was very, very wrong.
His arms still worked as they should, and he easily ended the offending spell caster, but this only emphasized the unexplained sinking feeling of drowning in a thick fog that he could neither feel nor smell nor see. He touched his arms and face for injuries, mind desperately racing to identify a problem, any problem, but finding none.
Turning, wide-eyed, he called to the others, asking if they knew what was going on, if they knew what spell he'd been hit with-
-and no sound came out of his mouth. Ah. Though the uneasiness remained, the resulting surge of relief almost made the paladin want to laugh out loud. Not that he could. He reached for his bag to find some echo herbs, but before he could Porom was next to him offering a vial and smiling kindly.
He drank, making a mental note to apologize to Rosa, and glanced back at his companions. Tellah and Yang watched him curiously. Palom was howling, laughing so hard he could barely stay upright.
"The look on his face! Just couldn't figure out what was going on! S'like he'd never been silenced before!"
"He hasn't!" Porom's aim spoke of a lifetime of practice and replaced the guffaws with cries of indignation. "Please don't worry Sir Cecil. It's much easier once you know what to expect."
"I certainly hope so," Cecil mumbled, looking at the ground, hiding reddened cheeks with his hair.
"It is nothing to be ashamed of." Yang's mouth curved in the slightest of smiles as he looked at the paladin. "One can never know how one will react in such a new situation."
Tellah nodded, hints of a smile evident around his eyes as well. "You are in an unusual position. Few gain magic so late, after having no experience with it through most of their lives."
"Thanks…I think," Cecil replied, peering down the dark passage of the ancient waterways. "We should get moving, and hope for no more unexpected delays."
"Oh, the big black buckethead isn't going anywhere." Palom grinned up at the paladin, who found himself more than a little unsettled by the five-year-old's expression. "By the way, have you ever been, say, a toad?"
"Yes," Cecil replied, a little more quickly and vehemently than necessary, moving to resume their trek towards the castle.