Nothingness. It trapped him, enfolded him in shadowy arms, siren-calling him to a slumber that might very well be eternal.

Normally, it would have frightened him, but the very embrace that chilled him so also removed any trace of fear within him.

Now there was only silence, and peace.

And the darkness loomed closer.

---------------------------------

I suppose I should get to the gist of the tale, though? And, interesting as the current plight of our hero may be, that is not this story's beginning.

In fact, it is not a beginning at all…

---------------------------------

She could have blamed the dog, she thought in retrospect.

It was his fault, after all, he was the one that knocked over the bar lamp, which caused the power cords in the ceiling to be pulled out, creating the sparks that set the ritual circle of oils and herbs on fire.

That the damned sprinkler system was activated was due to the burning ritual circle, which, she was certain, was the dog's fault.

Of course, who would have figured that the sparking power cords would have sent enough electricity through the puddled water on the floor to magnetize the Celtic runestones…

Hell, who would have known that the damn things were made of iron ore!

That her apartment was directly south of a large lake, directly west of a large forest, and directly northeast of a large power plant certainly didn't help matters any, either.

And, or course, it had to be Samhein, more commonly known these days as All Hallow's Eve.

Damn Druidic rituals, damn lay lines, damn celestial influxes, and damn modern day conveniences.

Damn pets, too.

But, then again, all that would have had absolutely no influence if, at that singular worst time, directly at the apex of her transcendental meditation, (as the ritual demanded, directly in the center of the circle and the runes,) her hentai mind had not decided to one up her.

Noooo… She just bloody had to daydream about a naked bloody elf!

It was just fortunate she didn't fancy Legolas, or she might really have been in trouble. (But she wasn't yet aware of that.)

After blacking out due to the rather unpleasant sensation of being sucked down a drain, she had woken up in an office. A rather nice office, with carvings on the wall, a good selection of vases and figurines, and a hardwood desk, stacked with papers.

Lots, and lots of papers. And in the parchment style, too. The look was even completed with a feathered quill and a bottle of ink.

All in all, a decent enough place for one to wake up in, especially considering some of the places she had woken up in previously. (The cargo area of a jumbo jet in takeoff, for instance.)

She figured that it would be easy enough for her to sneak out, as long as she left before anyone could cause a commotion.

And as the window behind the desk suggested, it was not far past sunrise. Surprising that she should be up, actually.

Especially with… She stopped dead in her pacing as her mind ran over once again the details of what had happened the night before.

It was fortunate she was still alive, actually. The powers the ritual had summoned were nothing to be trifled with. People had been possessed, or had fallen into rapture with an elemental kingdom under far less influence.

She had known the risks, and had chosen to take them. She had prepared and planned every detail exactly, but she didn't have enough sense to put the dog outside. Or at least in another room.

Maybe it was her fault, actually.

She just hoped the mutt was all right.

With a dramatic sigh, she raised her hand with the intent of massaging the bridge of her nose. She froze as her eyes registered something that should not have been.

The hand was not her own.

She gazed upon the limb in near horror as her brain mindlessly catalogued every minute difference. The fingers were longer, the skin a tone darker, the nails shorter and more thick. While still slender and strong, the muscles were more suited for deskwork than the rough play she often favored.

As her eyes drifted from the hand to the covered arm (not so different in shape or bone structure) she had enough presence of mind to look down.

In that moment of utter shock, the cynical and humorous part of her mind noted a most important and intriguing detail.

She was no longer female.

It was at that exact moment that the door to the office slammed open, and a tall, comely blonde dressed in rather archaic clothing gazed upon her male form beseechingly.

"Erestor," the blond stated firmly, "we have a problem."