An Owlin, a Treat, a Stall

"What am I supposed to do now" I whisper to myself. I'm trapped… no stuck in a world not my own. With creatures and beings found in places that should only be in my imagination. This is crazy. It's totally fucking bonkers. Or maybe I am. Because this is just…

"A fucking nightmare." I tell myself.

Yeah, a dream that's what this is. Just a terrible fucking dream. I'm sure I'll wake up any minute now. In some hospital with my mom and uncle Dylan hovering over me, with those concern looks on their faces. Like when I broke both my arms dirt biking that one time. That was a pretty shitty day. I bet even Mrs. Trunkers is there with a fresh batch of cookies waiting for me and everything. She'll be pissed at city hall that's for sure.

Yep, that's all this is, just a terrible fucking nightmare. Come on now me time to wake up. I slap myself to punctuate the point.

"Ouch!" Fuck that hurt!

"Oh. That…that hurt." Oh, shit that's not good is it. You can't feel pain in a dream. How many shows and anime have told you that. But then that means that… that this is… real, wouldn't it?

Oh god. OH GOD!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening. Oh god please no. I need this to be a dream. Please don't be real. Oh God!

I can feel my breath catching in my throat, quick and erratic, as if my lungs suddenly forgot how to function. The world around me blurs- voices, sights, all of it mashes together in a dizzying swirl. My chest tightens, and I can't seem to draw a full breath. Panic and fear starts to claw at my mind.

Breathe. I tell myself. Just breathe.

But the more I try to calm down, the more my breaths come in ragged, uneven gasps. My heart is pounding in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the rain, the clatter of the footsteps around me. I'm pretty certain the world starts to tilt sideways and I stumble forward, barley catching myself against the stone building I was just leaning against.

I push off of it, my hands shaking. My vision tunnels, the edges of my sight going dark as my pulse races out of control like a rocket. I need to stop… I need to get out of here. I need air, space. Anything but this crowded fucking street full of these... things?

My feet start to move on their own, stumbling my failing body down the street. I'm barely aware of where I'm going. The buildings rush past me in a blur, and considering I'm not moving very fast I take that as a bad sign. The rain is turning into mist, even as the final drops pelt my skin. I'm still gasp for breath, my mind is just racing with fear, my hands are trembling at my sides. I can feel my thumbs push so hard into my skin that I'm sure I'm bleeding now.

"Huff, huff, huff, huff." I… I need to settle down. I think I'm about to pass out. I need… I need to…

And then, out of nowhere there's a familiar scent of something warm in the air. It cuts through my building panic. I don't even think about it; I just follow the smell of… whatever it is, it's something I know something… familiar.

My feet drag me toward a small building nestled between two larger stone shops. It looks like a cozy place if I'm judging from the sign. The metallic sign that currently hangs above the wooden door, it's painted with some strange, looping cursive letters I can't read. But anyone can recognize a pig when they see it even if it's wearing what looks like a cinnamon bun as a hat.

With my vison somewhat stabilizing I grab onto the door handle and swing it open. As I swiftly enter inside, I'm immediately hit with a wave of warmth that's filled to the brim with scents of herbs and sweets. As I shove open the door, practically falling inside I realize that I'm still gasping for breath, my heart's pounding nonstop at rapid speed. But my rising panic eases slightly in the calm atmosphere inside. It's quiet in here, the noise of the bustling city muffled as the door swings shut behind me.

The shop itself is dimly lit, with low-hanging lanterns casting a soft, golden glow over the mismatched tables and plush chairs. The walls are lined with jars of dried herbs and bottles filled with liquids that shimmer in the low light. The counter top is made of a strange wood material that feels more like stone than, well wood. Half of the counter is made of glass, so patrons can see the small goodies available for purchase. There are a couple of customers, an azure colored female Tiefling is sipping from a steaming cup, and a pair of what I can only assume are dwarves sit quietly chatting in the corner barely glancing up as I stumble to the counter.

Behind the counter, an elderly woman, or at least, I think she's a woman, smiles warmly at me. Her skin is a light shade of blue, with intricate swirling patterns glowing faintly across her cheeks in shapes resembling clouds. I think? She moves with a practiced grace that speaks of experience, her fingers lightly brush over the assortment of cups and teapots laid out before her. A Genasi, maybe? That's what she looks like at least.

Something about seeing this woman hits me like a truck. After taking a small pause to take in the sights I've passed by, I come to a terrible conclusion. Oh god am I in a DnD inspired world.

Yep, that clinches it. I'm fucked!

Don't get me wrong DnD as a game is great. I love it! There are so many things to enjoy and apricate about it. The creativity and the freedom that are required to play. The types of characters you can make, the magic, the stories. There's just something about it that hits an itch in the back of my brain. I love DnD

But I don't want to live inside a world like it! That's just craziness right there. DnD is a fantasy game, where imagination takes precedents for both players and DM's. And two key words right there are fantasy and imagination.

You know how many games I've played where the entire world was in danger because of some duffos evil villain was trying to destroy it, or conquer it? Soooooooo many! And you want to know why? Because it makes for a fun story.

Who doesn't want to be a hero slaying evil and saving the world from untold death and destruction. It's awesome right. Being the hero in your own story. Hell, some players just want to be evil themselves, and guess what in DnD that's totally allowed!

And that's the problem. So many things could happen to me here. I could get turn into a plotted fucking plant for fucks sake!

Oh god I can feel my panic returning.

"Are you alright there deary?" says an old but welcoming voice.

I look up from the counter top and stare back at the old…Genasi grandma, I guess. Oh, that's going to be strange to start figuring out, isn't it?

"I'm sorry but can… can I use your bathroom please?" I ask the elderly woman. Man, I'm sweating bullets here. I can feel them forming on my temple, traveling down my face. I bet if I could look at myself, I'd be pale as a sheet.

She takes a quick look at me and gives a small smile "Of course deary. It's just to the back there, alright." I'm fairly certain that she's pitying me. Now normally I'd be kinda pissed about that, you know pride and whatnot, but considering my day today I'll take it gladly.

I don't even bother saying thank you as I basically race to the area she pointed to. I bob and weave through the mismatched tables, passing the gentle murmur of other patrons, and make my way towards it with a pace that sonic would be proud of.

As I reach the door, I fling it open and close with the desperation only madness can give you. My breathing, still erratic and wild. I turn around to find that the bathroom is surprisingly large compared to the tiny shop outside the door. The walls are lined with smooth, dark stone, lit by faintly glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling. There are mirrors above the three sinks, each posing their own. With the frames being made of a dull silver, giving the whole thing an otherworldly homeish type of vibe. There look to be about three or four toilets in total within the bathroom, and with a barley a glance I can tell they look like regular toilets, or ones I'm used to seeing.

But that's not my primary focus I immediately head over to the one of the sinks and turn on the faucets. I repeatedly splash water across my face, not caring that I'm covering my glasses with it. As I feel the cold water strike my face I take deep breaths in between the splashing's, hoping that this is enough to calm my panicked nerves.

Newsflash it's not working!

As I clean of my face, I manage to catch my reflection in the mirror and I freeze.

I tentatively reach out a hand towards the mirror that's showing my reflection. My hand shaking the whole way to it. But as I reach the mirror the reflection never changes even though what I'm seeing has to be impossible.

"W... what the fuck?" I barley scrape out. and maybe it's the panic, maybe it's the shock of what I'm seeing. But for the first time since I've arrived, I finally listen to my voice. And it's completely wrong!

"What the fuck!" I shout as I grab the mirror showing the wrong image.

"That's not… not me. I'm not a wom-."

XXX

Oh, how I do love time off. Taking some time for one's self is always need now and then. Especially when most of your day is about others.

No, no, no. Proper care for one's self and there physical and mental well-being is an essential necessity for life. Taking time off even if it's only two days is something everyone should indulge in now and then. To reinvigorate their sense of purpose. Their sense of their strengths. It's a wonderful thing.

As are hobbies.

Oh yes hobbies there such wonderful past times. Probably the best thing for anyone I say! No matter what Quintorius says you can't work all the time even if you enjoy it such as we do. No taking time for other things is what makes people… well people.

Haha, I do believe that was a joke well done me. Excellent job, I do believe that deserves a treat. After all, having a sweet tooth isn't the worst thing in the multiverse, now, is it?

"Ahh here we are. Good afternoon Dretelda! Quite the shower today wasn't it." I shout towards the old Genasi women behind the counter, dispelling my magical curtain over my head as I enter the lovely smelling shop. No need to bother the other patrons.

She turns her head towards me giving me that small smile she always seems to have on her face.

"Ah Verdam. Good to see you. That beak of yours still as sharp as ever I hope?"

"Why, when is it not my fair mistress of the Cinnamon Pig." I say with a slight theatrical bow. Oh, dear I do believe those Prismari third years are starting to affect me somewhat.

Well, there are worse things than letting your students influence you as a teacher I suppose. But can't let them now that now can I. Their heads might get even bigger.

"Hahaha! Well, that's good to hear. How's that school treating you. Any trouble makers come through?"

"Thankfully no besides the small prank here and there all's been well. From the students at least."

That draws a quizzingly look from the store matron. "From the students? Are there other troubles happening?" she asks me

"None that I'm allowed to share, but rest assured nothing beyond the capability of the faculty to handle." Best to not let roaming worries wonder. Nipping troubled thoughts in the bud is better for peace. And while I do enjoy battle, peace is something every warrior strives for. And fights to keep.

"Well, that's good." She returns with a smile, choosing to believe my words. "But speaking of troubled kids… I might have a situation involving one." She tells me with worry filling her voice.

"Oh? Really what's wrong?"

"Well, I got this 'customer' in the bathroom. And let's just say she's definitely fitting the troubled... description." She says with a finger pointing to her temple. "If you catch my drift."

After thinking for a quick second, I do indeed manage to understand her charade.

"Ahhhhh, I see. Trouble in life or just…mentally?" Trying to phrase it somewhat delicately, no need to be rude.

"Both probably. I hate to ask but you mind-?"

"Of course. Shouldn't be to much trouble. For a small fee of course." I say with a smirk. Age comes with many benefits, knowing how to make deals is only one of them. Helping is all well and good but gaining some treats for a good deed or two isn't too much trouble now, is it? I certainly don't think so.

"Sly old pigeon." She says but hands over the delicious treats all the same.

I open the small bag she hands me and take a tiny whiff of the scents inside. Ahhhhh that's it the sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar. The delicate small scent of the glaze over the buns. What is it I've always wondered it smells similar to blueberries but taste more like hazel nuts. Some exotic fruit perhaps? Then again, some mysteries are better left unsolved. Another little tidbit life has taught me over the years.

"I take offense to that you know." I say jokingly. "Now to this 'troubled'… teen I'm presuming."

"Young adult I say. About the same age as most of your students I recon." She tells me with an informative look. "She's in the bathroom. Been in there a good while to about 30 minutes I think."

"Very well. Leave this to me I know a thing or to about trouble." I tell the aged baker with a wink. And I then walk over to the bathroom with my reward well in hand.

Taking a quick pause at the door I listen for a moment to decern any information about the situation inside. Panting, rapid struggled breaths, a voice that screams tears running. Hmm one of those types first timer or desperately in over their head. Saddening but nothing I can't handle, or haven't handled before.

After a quick casting of Silence over the bathroom entrance, I open the door and shut it swiftly to look towards this so-called 'troubled' child.

Even a quick glance can tell me the troubled theory is more than likely true. While I have entered the room silently, I'm fairly certain I could've barged inside and this young lass wouldn't have noticed. Based on the sight I'm currently witnessing.

She's hovering over one of the mirrors with a look I could only describe as 'dread' plastered over her visage. And I can clearly see the tears falling from her brown eyes across her rather pale face. Or rather paler face, seems she doesn't like the outside very much. Her clothes match her expression to a tee. Holes liter the pants she's wearing and the shirt while hole free has obviously seen better days if those stains are anything to go by. And it's a miracle those boots haven't fallen off, I'm fairly certain those soles are coming off. Her black locks look as if they haven't been washed in days perhaps longer.

All in all, a mess. She definitely fits the troubled look Ms. Marain gave me. Well best let her know she's not alone anymore. Common curtesy and all that.

"Ahem!" I shout.

Putting a bit of magic into your words is a basic but useful skill. Making sure your heard over the loud voices of students or soldiers is an invaluable skill. Quintorius can't be wrong about everything I suppose.

But I can't deny its effectiveness. After making my presence known the young lady jumps slightly into the air with a squeal of what I presume to be fright. She looks over to me in a frightened manner. Oh, dear this may be harder than I thought. I mean she's acting like she's never seen an Owlin before.

She must've taken a large dosage of whatever drug or drink made her like this. And on closer inspection she's rather malnourished, so this is more than likely either a regular problem or a finical issue. So, I believe that a more delicate touch is required.

"I apologies for stepping in unannounced, but I needed to use the sink if you don't mind." I tell her with a smile. Or my version of it, most avian like races find it difficult to smile, I don't know how Mavinda does it.

While that same frightful look remains on her pale face, she does give a quick nod of understanding.

"Ri…right, sorry." She mumbles hastily. And steps back towards one of the bathroom stall doors. Hanging on it like a crutch.

With the same smile I respond with a quick 'Thank you' and twist the nob on the sink letting the warm water run through my calloused talons.

"It's been pouring quite hard here since yesterday, hasn't it? Bad for my feathers that is." I tell to the young woman.

A confused look joins her frightened face before responding "Y-yeah it's been raining cats and dogs lately."

It's only been raining this morning. The scheduled showers this city gives through mystical means is planned. So, she either is unaware of this fact or doesn't remember it. Trouble indeed.

"Yes, quite so." My voice laced with a tint of laughter. "Tell me young miss-"

"I'm not a miss!" she shouts at me.

I can't stop the look of surprise flashing on my face. "Oh, terribly sorry, assumptions and all that. Is it mister then. Mister….?" Leaving the end of my sentence open for an answer hopefully they can remember their own name. It'll make helping them a much smoother process.

"Y-yeah it's…" they stop and another look of confusion passes over their face and a silent dread of future sleuthing and paperwork enters my mind. Before quickly vanishing when they reply. "My… my friends call me Question. Y-you can do the same I guess."

"Question? Well, that's a strange nom de guerre, isn't it?" So, she- ahem- he doesn't want to give me his real name. Hmm so he's not a complete fool to trust a stranger is he. That's good but poorly timed. A trusting person would've made this faster but oh well.

"Yeah, I guess so. It's more of an insult, but you know how it is… curious minds and all that." He tells me, wiping some sweat growing on his brow. He still looks like he's about to keel over any second.

"Hahaha. Yes, I'm rather aware of those sorts of names. Being a teacher isn't all roses and broom sticks I'm afraid." And that's an unfortunate truth of my profession, children often can come up with some cleaver insults. I mean where else would I get called a 'Arakroken koala looking reject' for giving out a deserved grade.

"Haha yeah, yeah that- that sounds rough. Sorry." He tells me with a small chuckle.

I finish washing of my talons and I cast a small flame forth from my hands to dry them off. As I caste another glance over to the young lad I see his eyes grow wide at the appearance of my small bright flame. For an elf that's a bit strange, he should be used to magic of a greater scale than this.

"Yes, it is sometimes, but I do love my job. Teaching can be a very worthwhile profession. Of that I assure you."

His eyes don't leave my flame as he barleys gives acknowledgment to my response "Yeah that's great." That's very strange, let's see if we can't use this to my advantage.

"Like what you see young man?"

"Hmm?" he finally tears his eyes away from my small fire. "Oh uhhh… sorry I'm- I'm not used to... uhhh magic and stuff."

"Really now? I find that a bit hard to believe."

Hard to believe indeed. Even a novice could sense the affinity with mana this young man has. He has the spark, the gift, the embers, the petals, the talent, whatever you call it. This child certainly has the ability to be a spellcaster. And with my trained eyes it's even easier to see his gift for the mystic arts.

Not uncommon for an elf to possess, but that look of wonder that I briefly glanced into his eyes. That's a bit odd, almost like he doesn't think he can-

"Really? Whys that?" he asks me.

"Oh well surely you can do this as well with your talent for magic?" I ask him hoping to confirm my growing suspicions.

"Ha! Uhhh no I can't- I can't do anything like that." He tells me firmly. Now that's interesting. Very interesting.

"Trust me young man, I've taught many spell casters over the years. I can say for certainty that you have the ability to do this as well."

"No there's no way. I- I could never do that." He gestures to my flame with a flingy hand gesture.

This is becoming more and more strange as time passes by. Perhaps he believes he is an elf with no affinity for magic. There quite rare but not totally unheard of. But then how did-. No focus on the current problem Verdam. One issue at a time.

"Would you like to try?" I ask the troubled man. Hoping my voice properly conveys the feelings of trust I want to express. I take a small step towards him testing the limits of his borders.

But even as I approach him his eyes can barely leave the flame produced in my hand. "Yeah of course I would but- I… I can't do-"

"Nonsense! Of course, you can here." I cut off as I grab his hand into my talons and stretch it outwards so his palm is facing the ceiling. "Now feel the flow of the Weave in and around you. Focus on a memory of a flame like this. Maybe from a campfire or a candle. And when it's firmly in your mind push the Weave from within you outwards then you'll see." I instruct the boy.

"I'm telling you I-I can't…"

"Trust me! You can do this. There's nothing to fear" I tell him sincerely. "Just breathe and let what happens, happen."

He gives me a disbelieving look before focusing in on his hand. Trying to follow through on my instructions. His face scrunches in concentration and perhaps desperation but after a few seconds of silence he releases and angry sigh and turns towards me once again.

"Look see I told you I couldn't-!"

Whoosh!

And just like I predicted a brilliant flame spring forth from the boys' slender palms. It's only thanks to me holding onto them that stops the boy from falling over himself in surprise.

"Jesus!" he exclaims.

"See I told you; you could do it. Never underestimate the wisdom of an Owlin."

But the lad completely ignores my clever pun, his focus solely on the bright flame now residing within just above his palm. Ahh, I know that look. I've seen it many a time on students, professors, any one looking for answers and finding them in an unexpected way. Anyone who follows the path of magic has seen this look before. Even I had that look once upon a time.

The look of wonder.

But as quick as the flame appears it quickly vanishes returning to the Weave inside once again. Magic is often like that for first timers who haven't gotten used to channeling their power. So, I guess he was telling the truth he really is new to magic but that could only mean.

"Wow." He breaths restlessly. "I- did I just…?" he ask in disbelief.

Right that problem for later when I have some assistance for now. "Yes. Yes, you did. Congratulations young man. A whole new world is in front of you now." I tell him with no small amount of joy in my voice. Watching someone discover the limitless potential they possess is what drove me to not only learn but teach. It's a feeling I'll never get tired of no matter my age.

"… Awesome."

And with those quick heartfelt words the boys' eyes roll back into his head. I reach out with my other talon and catch him before he hits the ground. As I stand there in the bathroom dropping my Silence spell over the entrance, I feel my thoughts racing, swarming in my mind. But at the fore front of them rest this.

"Ahhhhh I do think I should charge extra for this."

XXX

Hey there guys sorry for the rather late posting of this story second chapter. I wanted this to come out days ago but school life took a harder turn and combine that with looking up information about certain topics fro future chapters fro this and my other story you get the release date you get.

Im also kinda a procrastinator so thats just another check mark for lateness. I want to post a new chapter bi-weekly or tri-weekly if possible. That gives me time to look stuff up and deal with any school or personal problems life may throw my way.

But here is the second chapter i'm pretty happy with how this turned out. I threw out a whole scene with the MC throwing up on Verdam cause it didn't feel right.

Oh right Verdam is an actual character in the setting I've chosen for the story. It's just I made up his name cause I looked for 3 days and I couldn't find out what his actual name was so I just made it up. So thats how you get Verdam Silverwing. You guys can probably figure out who he is.

Heres a hint he's a cleric.

But thats enough of that I once again want to thank you guys for stopping by and checking out this chapter of my story. I hope you enjoyed it and the next chapter we finally get the DnD setting the rest of the story will take place. Most of you have propably guess it by now but I'll keep it a secret from everyone who hasn't until next time.

So until next time Peace Out!