Oh, she simply had to have him! His quick wit and how he switched from aristocratic parlance one second to plebeian filth the next was so quaint! Along with his elf attendant, it made for a giddy little performance. His novel toys were intriguing, but she would doubtless learn of all their inner workings in time. There was nothing a human could do that an elf could not and better.

She would play along until he revealed all his secrets, then like all humans, he would simply pass with time. His secrets and toys would then be hers; mortals knew how to bet with everything but their minuscule lives, after all. Sepha would have to thank Brother Virion for this little bit of fun. First was the bow, then came the black ball and its vision glass. And second to last, the red mind elixirs preempting the main event.

Even if decrying the title of performers, they assuredly presented themselves as such. Jon, the human man, finished his little speech directing their attentions to the final parlour trick. Sepha inwardly lamented that the day’s entertainment would shortly be over and then… the world fell out from under her feet, along with her jaw.

The unobscured interior beyond the ring disappeared. The wooden panel of the council chamber was gone, replaced by another room. She saw a wall a few feet beyond, not of wood or stone but something… else. The matte material was an unadorned white with gilded metal trimming in places. Golden light streamed in from the right side.

“What by the gods is that?!” she demanded and stood.

Jon and Luren-sun ignored her and stepped through it, into the place beyond. The council table impeded Sepha’s approach, and by the time they reached the ring, Jon replied. “Bye!” A singsong send-off and they were gone. The ring flickered back to empty, their guests nowhere to be seen.

“Search the room!” Faelyn and Nym sprung into action inspecting the area but to no avail. A minute more and the ring shifted back silently; Jon’s laughter was the first indication.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Kay see, they’re fine.”

Sepha stood before the ring, observing the couple on the other side. She strode to the back of the circular doorway and was met with a similar unadorned cream white wall. They are in a magic wall that appeared from nowhere. She touched it, a kind of textured lacquer perhaps.

“Both sides are active, but the ring here is up against the hull. You can’t go through that way, I’m afraid. Not dangerous or anything, it’s just, you know, a wall. They’re super effective!”

Sepha returned to the side they were on… in? Perhaps those elixirs were not superfluous after all; this was utter madness! Luren-sun was disparaging Jon for his frightful jest, but the disappearance did affirm his sorcery in a way that persistence might not. Her mind raced to fathom the trick. They were within the ring, but what was within was not without. They are there, but there is not here, not beyond us, not the chambers.

“Pray tell, where are you?”

“Well, we could be anywhere really, but at the moment we are in about the same place just higher up. You wanna see?” He beckoned as if they were amicable peers, leaning casually against that same white wall.

Her men forged ahead. Stepping through, they looked about with a phlegmatic disposition, assessing danger. Even their steely eyes enlarged at what they saw, turning back, they nodded, but hands never left their hilts.

Curiosity overcame caution, and she stepped through the portal, turning right toward the illumination. Wondrously bright rays blazed through polished crystal glass panels. Such light was uncharacteristic for Elgelica, usually overcast.

A man-sized circular glass window was cut into the floor. She knew of no glass blower bold or stupid enough to make such an outrageous thing. Jon walked over to stand centred on it. He jumped up and down on the transparent floor, ostensibly reading her thoughts. Sure and sturdy as stone, clear as water, no clearer. Miraculous. Peering beyond his feet and Sepha looked down upon a carpet of clouds many miles below.

“So, you know those rumours about a new ‘beast’ spotted in the skies around Elgelica? We’re probably to blame for that. Surprise!” He waved his hands in foe mockery.

The clouds parted for a moment, and Sepha’s sharp vision spotted the Elven forest below, a glint of green from the spire’s glass mural flickered briefly before the white mottled tapestry reclaimed the view. She barely noticed as her knees gave out. Many minutes later she was shaken from the mesmerising sight.

Faelyn’s concerned features obscured her view; the steadfast man had broken the spell bringing her faculties once more to the fore.

Nym, to her surprise, hid in a corner as far from any windows as possible, his back firmly planted against the peculiar structure.

Jon and Luren-sun sat nonchalantly off to the side in strangely upholstered chairs. They waited patiently looking through the windows or fiddling with this and that.

She got to her feet and shakily and edged to a seat opposing them. Losing composure as she had was a weighty misstep. Weakness was never to be shown; least of all to these louts.

“Good, you’re back.” He showed no indication of either pity or bemusement, merely giving her his attention with pure equanimity. She abhorred it because there was nothing to hate. Such aplomb, in a human no less, made her fume. He knew she could not hold her tongue for long, so he waited.

“This is a ship;” she clipped the words, “one that sails through the sky.”

“That it is! Welcome to the HAS, it’s an airship. Funnily enough, the name still applies. I’m sure the logistics of air travel is something you find enticing! Combine that with the rift that got us here, and there is no place we cannot be. My people can, and will, come and go as they please. The only remaining question is where the main thoroughfares will be.”

The ramifications were distressing, to say the least, provided this was not some fitful nightmare. Walls and armies would be nothing but ‘entertaining exhibits’ between destinations. When envisioning usage of such artefacts in warfare directly, the impotence of Elgelica terrified her. What would firebombs from this height do to the trees? Could they douse them in time?

“Our Griffon Riders could reach your ship and strike you down.” She had never ridden one herself, but Elgelica was not without air defence.

“You have griffons! That is so fucking cool! I gotta see one!” His face transformed into an ingenuous child’s, quickly replaced by calculating dispassion. This man vexed her deeply. “Tactically they are a no go though. We’re six kilometres up, the air outside is unbreathable. Even if your griffons could fly this high, which I doubt, the riders most certainly cannot. Plus, we’re not defenceless either, and we have the high ground all the way up. I get it. You’re angling for military superiority; vulnerably is not a nice feeling. You can relax, no one wants to invade you.”

“What do you want, then?”

He paused, retrieving a gold coin, flicking it a few times in the air. “Do you spend much time with games of chance, Sepha?” His dropping of titles irked her further.

“Not particularly, with enough knowledge and skill, there is no need to roll the dice.”

“And yet, here we are,” he said gazing down, unfathomable concern writ on his features. Was it for her? No, something deeper. A cavernous abyss of visions clouded those features. “Catch.” He flipped the coin toward her and Faelyn intercepted, seizing and inspecting it. Satisfied, he bowed and presented it to her.

Expecting Elgelican gold, she stared into a delicately carved, nay forged, art piece on one ounce. The craft was so fine it was better than any jewellery she had laid eyes on.

“It’s a Kruger Rand from my hometown. They don’t make ’em anymore. With the return of the gold standard and Alpha instituting worlds-wide standardisation, it’s no longer legal tender. Whatever comes of this, it is yours. Probably the most information you’ll ever learn about me, and you know why that is Ms Shalen?”

Perhaps he was a spy, his past hidden by powers beyond her ken.

“Because I am unimportant.”

That stopped her short.

“I am not Ozymandias, king of kings. I have no mighty works. I’m inconsequential, irrelevant — a grain of sand in time. I will not be forgotten coz there’s nothing to remember. I’m nobody. All that matters of me is the chance I give you. One flip of the coin.” He retrieved another gold piece and spun it in the air as he found her eyes.

A grain of sand that knew its place. Lounging above the firmament, the man spoke thus, and she had never felt more despair. “Who am I then, oh ‘wise’ sage?” The mockery was more to still her nerves than anything else.

Built-up tension broke like chalk and Jon waxed jovial once more. “You are someone. Or at least you think you are, and the world does too. But I don’t do this for you or the other someones you may soon meet. I do this for the million nobodies in your care. They deserve the chance, but you flip the coin. So do it.”

She looked down at the coin and felt her nerves strain. “I can’t because,” her voice rose rapidly in exasperation. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!”

“Wait, what? Shit. Did I just fucken monologue for like a minute and not even answer your question? Kay, you gotta stop me when I do shit like that.”

“It was a fairly good monologue, Master. Do I get a ‘Crewga Rand’ too.”

“Yeah sure, I got a shit-ton. The gold content is still good, after all.” He flipped Luren the coin, and she caught it, inspecting the gold piece and smiling.

“Somebody, for the love of the Gods, answer my damned question!” Sepha stood now, nerves and fear gone at the inanity of these two imbeciles.

“Right,” Jon pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from a pocket. It was her invitation she realised; he read from the back of it. “We would like to purchase land in Elgelica. Anywhere is fine, really. Abandoned farm lot or something of similar size, out on the periphery maybe. I d’know.

“Next, access to your libraries and/or schools. I know that can be sensitive, so I leave it to your discretion. Going to Hogwarts would be super sick tho.

“Finally, willingness to come to the table when the real pencil pushers come from my world. And man, will they love talking to you. I’m not sure if you can tell, but this negotiation crap isn’t really my strong suit.”

Yes, I can verily tell. “Let me see that parchment.” She strutted over and snatched it from his hands. Then, she returned to slump in the opposing chairs that were rather comfortable she realised. “The thickness of these strokes is gigantic, what did you use, your thumb?”

“I’ll be honest ballpoint pens don’t work well on parchment, so I used a felt tip marker.”

“Did you have to write it skew as well?” She craned her neck to the side in reading it.

“I was just taking notes, no need to be so picky.”

“Do you have any idea how valuable this letter is? A personal invite to meet a member of the Elgelican council and you scrunched it up like a used washcloth.”

“Sheesh,” he put his hands up in placation, “but, I did reuse it. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“No! No, it does not! What point is there even signing this? It could not possibly pass as a legally binding.”

“Oh, fuck no. The pens and the paperwork come later. Trust me you’ll be grateful I delayed it this much.”

“Let me enunciate this aloud, so I fathom you properly. You come with arcane tools to threaten the nature of trade and warfare, and all you want is to purchase some land, read some books, and a verbal promise?”

“Fuuuck, that was way shorter to say. I should have led with that.”

No, no, no, no, no. This was too much, or was she too inexperienced. No, he was too much. She took it all back; the centuries of her insanity would last much longer than the meagre years it would take for him to inflict it. I should be done right this instant with these buffoons. All the while, peals hysterical laughter welled up within her, and there was no stopping it. She cackled and cried till her breathing was weak and slouched her seat for support. Ludicrous tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Faelyn produced a handkerchief that she absently took.

Jon spoke this time “So we’re good then?” Showing a thumb pointing up, he glanced about even eyeing Nym for confirmation. “I’m kinda feeling like some cake. You guys want cake? I could order chocolate or strawberry. What’s your fancy?”

“I’d recommend the chocolate, Shalen-sun,” piped in Luren.

“Fine, ‘Chocklit’ it is then.” Well done, Brother Virion, perhaps our fortunes truly can shift with these two.