Ch 3: Race

"Y-y-you're… a Fairy!"

The naturally colored girl flushed a deeper shade of green. "That's rude," she snapped, tiny hands clenched. With a pout she speared a finger up at the larger man, saying, "You know full well I'm a pixie, Ive!"

By this point, Gabe's heart was hammering a mile a minute. He heard her words but like her image, his brain refused to process it. Everything from her wings to her eyes was too absurd to be true. "Oh, a p-pixie!" A nervous chuckle escaped him. "I'm sorry!" Unable to fully comprehend its existence Gabe couldn't look away from the diminutive creature. "How rude of me to confuse a Pixie with a fucking Fairy!" He cradled his head once more groaning in exasperation and disorientation.

"What's wrong with you?" the pixie demanded. Stepping closer she peered up at him with an arched eyebrow. Was it just him or was she behaving way too snobbish for her size? "You're acting strange."

"I'm acting strange?" he exclaimed, pointing as he added, "I've got pointy ears, and you got butterfly wings." His arms shot out to gesture at the world around them, shouting, "What about this is supposed to be normal?"

The pixie, undaunted by his ranting, rolled her eyes in annoyance. "It's normal for you to have pointy ears," she stated matter-of-factly. "You're an elf!"

Gabe's brain must've short-circuited again. "I'm a…what?" He thought he heard the…ugh damn it. I'm losing it…the pixie accuse him of being an…an... fuck, I can't even say it!

"Well technically you're a Wood Elf," she said with a dismissive shrug, "but that's splitting hairs."

Hands squeezed the pointed ears as if by sheer pressure they might retake their God-given shape. "Oh yeah because I give a damn about technicalities at the moment!" Gabe resisted the urge to curl up in the fetal position. Crying felt like a more viable option if the shock ever wore off. Gabe knew he was being irrational but at that moment he felt a right to be.

"Get a grip, Ive!" the pixie shouted, in frustration. With a flap of her wings, she was now at eye level. "You're not making any sense!"

With his personal space-and sanity-in violation, Gabe's temper flared to life. "I'm not making any sense? You're not making any sense!" he shouted making the pixie cover her ears and wince. With his anger came a degree of clarity. He began noticing things. For one the Pixie had been using a word he didn't recognize. "You keep saying 'Ive'." He growled, "What the hell is an 'Ive'?"

Gritting her teeth, the Pixie advanced until she was nearly in his face. "You are!" she spat impatiently.

"I am what?" he asked, still lost.

"You…are…Ive!" the pixie said. She spaced out her words as if she were speaking to a simpleton. "Ivellios Meliamne! That's you!"

Yep, this chick is crazier than I am. "No, I'm not. I'm-" he began to correct her but was immediately cut off.

"And while we're straightening things out, you poncy elf," she shot forward, her tiny nose feeling like a thorn pricking the tip of his. It was Gabe's turn to wince, but the little creature wouldn't let up. "How about thanking the pixie that saved your miserable life!"

Poncy? Wait a sec… "Saved me?" Gabe repeated, the words clicking in his head, "Wait you saved my life?" Is she the reason I'm here?

"Yes!" the pixie exclaimed, the flush going even darker, "Would it kill you to show a little more-" She paused abruptly. Her haughty expression morphed into one of confusion. "Wait…" Somehow, she managed to flutter in closer, eyes narrowing. Gabe leaned back even as the pixie floated mere inches from his iris.

Suddenly she drew back several feet, her expression becoming shocked. "You're not Ives!" she shouted before pointing an accusing finger at him, "Who are you?"

Finally, we are getting somewhere! At least they had found some common ground. That alone soothed some of his anxiety. Maybe now they could have an honest dialogue. After taking a deep steadying breath, he introduced himself. "I'm Gabriel." Gesturing to the pixie he asked, "Now, who are you?"

"I'm a pixie. Weren't you listening?" her snobbish attitude was beginning to grate on his frayed nerves. He was about to ask for her name when she posed a redundant question of her own. "So…you're really not Ivellios?"

"No, I'm Gabriel. Weren't you listening?" he retorted feeling his eye twitch in frustration. This circular questioning was getting them nowhere. "Do you know what the hell is going on?" he asked, trying to be proactive.

"Not exactly sure…" she answered. The pixie seemed to be only half-listening. It was fluttering back in forth in what Gabe assumed was the equivalent of pacing. He wanted to ask her more questions, but every time he started, she waved him off. So, Gabe contented himself to let her sort out the situation. If she truly was the reason Gabe was there instead of at the pearly gates than maybe she had a solution.

Finally, she paused, finger tapping her chin. Turning she looked down at his expectant face. "Well first off," she said, slowly, "…you died."

That was the big reveal!? "No shit I died," he snapped his temper growing once again. If there was one thing, he didn't need reminding of it was that! "Kinda to be expected when an asshole stabs you in the liver." The image of his hand and clothes stained crimson filled his mind. It matched the puddle glistening on the hot asphalt. Echoes of the pain and slow fading of the light made him shiver and he had to tear his mind away by sheer force of will.

The pixie looked down at him in confusion. "Stabbed?" she chuckled, "No, you got thrown from your horse and broke your neck." The pixie gently thumped a palm on the side of her head.

The fuck! His hand instinctively came up to rub his neck. "I…what?"

"I'm pretty sure you cracked your skull too," she added with a shrug and reassuring smile.

And now we are lost all over again. "The hell?" he exclaimed running fingers along his scalp, "My neck and head are just fine!"

"Of course, they are," she remarked, beaming proudly, "I healed you, dummy."

Gabe could not help but scoff. "Yeah right." From a broken neck and skull fracture? Even with modern medicine immediately available his chances of surviving such injuries were slim. This pixie expected Gabe to believe she managed to mend a broken skull and a severed spine in the middle of a forest by herself? I was born during the day, but not yesterday sweetheart! "Even if you did, that doesn't make any sense," Gabe did his best to ignore the irony in his words. Instead, he explained his reasoning, "I was stabbed. I distinctly remember being stabbed."

The pixie rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. "Yes. You, Gabriel, were stabbed and died," she spoke slowly as if conversing with a child or infirm. For a tiny woman, she could lay the condescension on thick. "Ivellios was thrown from a horse and died." She was pacing/fluttering once more. "Somehow when I healed him, you showed up in his body." Pausing she drew uncomfortably close again. "How did you end up here instead of Ive?" she asked her tone dripping with allegation and inquisitiveness.

Gabe resisted the urge to push her away. Instead, he scooted backward saying, "That's what I'd like to know." As much as he desired some personal space, he did not want to touch the creature. Alienating his only "ally" by violating unknown taboos, was not an option.

The pixie looked at him, her mind working through the situation. "Hmm…Let's see…" Closing her eye she lifted her hands in his direction. "Detect Thought."

"Do what-HEY!" A circle of green symbols lit up around the pixie's hands. Next thing Gabriel knew he felt an odd pressure within his skull. Just as quickly as it began it stopped. "What the holy fuck was that?" he demanded, clutching his head.

"Relax," she said waving off his glare, "It was basic Druidcraft." Tapping her chin again here eye flicked back and forth as if she were reading something on the air. "Hmm…well you're not lying. At least, you believe you are who you think you are."

Her explanation left much to be desired, never mind her excessive use of pronouns. "Well, duh!" he retorts still rubbing his head. "Why wouldn't I-SHIT!" Suddenly two more concentric rings of symbols formed in front of the pixies outstretched hands. Each was a different shade of green from the first.

"Detect Evil!" she called out, "Dispel Magic!" Just like the first Gabe felt pressure within his skull. It was not painful just unexpected and annoying.

"Would you stop that! It's clearly not working," he demanded feeling a combination of sinus pressure and fatigue. "All you're doing is making me see spots."

"The fact the spells aren't working is telling," she said pointedly. She sounded proud but oddly dissatisfied. "Means you're not some malevolent spirit or demon possessing Ive. Neither is Ive under some curse or enchantment. Least not that I can tell."

"Druidcraft? Possession? Enchantment?" Holy, crap. She just used magic! It felt like the ground had shifted beneath him and he had no control over how he would fall. Magic…is…real? Gabe's brain fumbled over the sudden realization. Suddenly the pixie's ability to fix his body in the middle of the wilderness was a lot more plausible. This chick is being too damn casual about this shit! Meaning magic was quite common here. "Where the hell am I?" In an attempt to ground himself, Gabe looked down. Inadvertently that brought his historically inaccurate garb into focus. "When the hell am I?"

"Torel, on the continent of Faerun," the pixie stated in no uncertain terms, "And it is the 11th day of Chis, 1481 DaleReckoning." The question had been rhetorical, but his companion seemed more than happy to chime in, no matter how much it sent his delicate psyche into a spiral.

God, that didn't help at all! Gabe cradled his head once more, groaning. "You know we're both speaking English," he couldn't help but glare up at the pixie in annoyance, "And yet I still have no idea what the hell you're saying."

"English?"

"Yeah, English," he said with growing frustration, "Or…common." He flung his hands up again, "Whatever the fuck you call it, here."

"I know what common is!" she shouted back, placing her hands on her hips. "We haven't been speaking common. We've," she gestured between the pair of them, "been speaking Sylvan. You know, the 'Fey Language'?"

Gabe was beginning to feel his migraine returning. Of course, we have, because I wasn't confused enough already! Gritting his teeth, he looked up at the floating pixie. "How…can I be speaking a language and…not realize I'm speaking it?"

The pixie shrugged. "Maybe in your mind, it sounds like this…English language." That made a little bit of sense, but not enough to keep Gabe from rubbing his eyes in frustration. He was going to have to start accepting things at face value. Constantly questioning and rejecting what was right in front of him would drive him insane or catatonic. Think; improvise, overcome, adapt.

"So, Mr. Spirit," the pixie continued floating aback down to stand before him. "if you're not from here, what realm do you hail from?" Somehow her standing like a human being helped Gabe's mind to relax.

The question was also one he had an answer to which helped soothe his anxiety. A solvable problem, even a small one could do wonders for self-esteem. "Place called Earth. Missouri, born and raised." He curbed the reflex to check his cellphone, realizing it wasn't in his pocket. Thinking back, he recalled the date on his calendar. "It was-is-whatever…April 10th, 2019 A.D."

Her reaction was nearly opposite to his earlier one. "Oooo…so not only from a different realm but another time?" the pixie said excitedly, "Fascinating!" Her words resonated within him. Instead of panicking at his situation, he began looking at it objectively. Gabe had read that according to Albert Einstein time travel was theoretically possible. Unfortunately, Gabe doubted this was a case of time displacement.

"Glad you think so." A 'realm' was a nice way to describe it. Could be another word for parallel or alternate dimension. A dimensional shift seemed more likely than time travel at any rate. "You're awfully calm about all this."

The pixie shrugged and gestured in Gabe's direction saying, "Traveling with Ivellios, there's not a lot I haven't seen."

"So, you've seen…" Gabe gestured to himself, indicating his ears, "This before?" he couldn't help but feel a kernel of hope.

Catching his meaning, the pixie looked a little embarrassed. "Well…no." Gabe's heart sank. She shuffled her bare feet looking like a shamed child rather than a miniature adult. "I mean we've encountered 'spiritual possession' but nothing like this."

"That's helpful," he groaned. The weight of his new reality was beginning to sink in. So now I'm a human inhabiting an elf's body, in a strange world where magic is a thing. Oh, and the only person I know is Pixie with an attitude and no concept of personal boundaries. Gabe was starting to feel another migraine coming on. The anxiety was even causing his stomach to cramp. Amongst the myriad of other questions, there was one more he felt he could get an answer to.

"So, how did you heal me?" he asked, absentmindedly touch his side. He thought back to movies and video games he played in the past. "A healing potion?"

"Don't be daft," the pixie scoffed, adding in a matter-of-fact tone, "Those are expensive." With a flap of her wings, she floated in the air. A rain of tiny granules wafted on the air, catching the sunlight. They made the same soft crystalline tinkling sound he'd heard earlier. "I used pixie dust."

"Of course, you did," Gabe sighed. Because anything else would've been crazy. There's that migraine.