I always thought my first time would be much more gentle, more special. You see it all the time in movies, or you read it in your favorite spicy novel from the BookTok section of Darns & Rubble. I remember the first time I saw someone go through a portal, though it was in a video game with 2D graphics back in the 90s. This was cold, hard, and frightening.

The roar of the world I was leaving behind trailed far, far away. The passing sound of another 18-wheeler, like an iron dragon roaring past, on its’ mundane way during its’ mundane day. But today that was not me.

The same searing blue light pinpricked the darkness once more. I felt like I was in the void before entering a VR game, or that moment when you first wake up but aren’t quite ready yet to open your eyes. And yet the universe was prying mine open.

The light became a small circle, first soup can size, then Brogresso soup can size, and then wide enough for me to peer through this arcane window. It seemed like a plain room, though the ground seemed to be made out of concrete or some sort of drab linoleum. Large windows were in the back intricate and stained various colors. Was I back in church?

I squinted my eyes and could make out a person, though any details were hard to discern through the arcane window. It was like I couldn’t quite blink out the blurriness of the day.

“Hel—” I sputtered a cough and pressed my fist to my chest, clearing my throat, “—Hello! What… who are you?” I called out to the figure in a voice I considered rather cool but the back of my mind picked up the hesitation in my tone.

The figure moved, apparent limbs flailed and seemed to scramble for something in the church-like room.

I glanced around me, my form still non corporeal and the only light source was the burning blue light nearly completing a sphere around me, revealing more of the room.

High, vaulted ceilings stretched up above. A large, blue glass ceiling seemed to be nestled up on high. Around me appeared to be curved walls made out of similar material to the floor, along with tall, narrow windows. The stained glass depicted many blurred humanoid shapes with a brilliant number of colors. Below me seemed to be some sort of desk, or maybe altar? I’d say a dais but that’s a bit too fancy for my neighborhood.

The figure darted back and forth before settling in front of me. The limbs flailed again but then a blinding light followed. Did this person just use an old school Polaroid camera on me? I blinked a few times but nothing had changed. The person slumped, clearly annoyed.

“You’re really going to take pics of me before helping me? Is this for your highlight reels,” the shadow figure darted to the side and leaned over something, digging around. I tried to wave my arms around to get their attention, though I still could not see them. “Social media isn’t everything, my guy! And where’s that dang ca—”

White hot pain screamed for attention at my left side. I coughed into nothing and looked down to see a blurry floor. I opened my mouth to speak again but was suddenly hit once more with the same pain. A large object came into clear view and what seemed to be a large tree branch. Or maybe one of those wooden bannisters you see at the fancy houses. Wait.

My world turned upside down and I found myself coughing once more, staring up into the dark void of a ceiling. It was suddenly much clearer. Lights dimly glowed overhead, twinkling almost. There were some of different sizes, different colors. A swift streak shot across the raven gown of diamonds and sparkles.

“Space?” I coughed again, chuckling at the thought.

Quickly, I rose to my feet. My palm pressed against the stone underneath. Linoleum was a bad guess. My eyes were met with my legs and hands. Corporeal again. Great! I quickly pressed a hand to my side and lifted my zippered hoodie to check for any damage. Beyond flush irritated skin from the unknown impact, it looked fine.

I stood up and dusted myself off a bit, then glanced around some more. The shadowed figure was out of mind for the moment as I stood in the circular room. My thoughts raced and my brain fired on all cylinders

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

This is straight up ripped right out of an RPG. Where’s the treasure chest? I glanced around until my eyes laid upon a classic, almost insultingly typical brown wooden treasure chest. The top closed shut, tempting me with its’ tasty secrets.

A throat was suddenly cleared.

“Mmmhm—” I turned and saw a rather tall person in the center of the room where the sphere, or portal had been. Long robes flowed, though they almost looked scholarly. Raven black hair, ass length of course, trailed downwards. His ears were rather long, and had metal jewelry adorning the tips.

Elf, eh? I thought with some amusement.

“Please, take a moment. You will require your bearings, hence and so forth.” A rather deep voice, warm echoes off of the walls. He gestured his hands in front of him with open palms as if he were a benevolent lord. He looked like a goth Elrond but with the Elf pomp turned way up. A tall wooden staff remained in his grip, proudly planted on the ground. The head of the staff looked familiar and the pain on my side flared a little.

I stifled a nervous chuckle, “Uh, hey. Where, uh… where am I?” I cocked my head to the side and smirked, still quite nervous and eyes darting for the nearest blaringly red exit sign. “Did you have to hit me?” I winced a little but straightened my back just as quick.

The elf stared for a moment. Then another moment. The pause was far too long for a normal reply to be formed. He looked as if he were waiting for something, or trying to confirm something in that brain of his. Both hands fell to his side and he walked off the dais and towards a wooden desk. Quickly he leaned the staff against the corner of the desk.

I blinked my eyes a few times until the blurriness finally faded all together. “You, uh… still didn’t answer me.” The elf had cracked open a comically large tome and rapidly flipped through the pages. I slowly, cautiously stepped towards them, “What’cha got there? Did it not work?”

“No! It didn’t!” The elf barked towards the wall, not turning to face me.

I didn’t think he’d reply so casually. Hrmm… I wracked my brain with how to best approach this.

“That sucks. I’m sorry, man. How about you point me towards the exit?”

I glanced around until I saw a door at the other end of the room. There were no other doors I could see. My head tilted upwards, looking at that ever-changing cosmos above. The LEDs in this place are amazing. Or is that OLED? What does OLED even mean? I shook my head, shaking the reverie, and made for the door. No need to wait for an answer.

From behind came a sigh. Then a snap from those long elf fingers.

I glanced at the center of the room from where I made my entrance. Now all I saw was the Siamese cat, suspended in the air for a moment, alongside a white cup. My coffee! After a moment, both the cat and coffee landed on the ground. Thankfully, one of them were able to land safely on their feet.

The cup of coffee attempted the landing but bounced off of the top edge of the dais and towards the elf, toppling over and spilling its’ spiced - cold at this point - guts across the floor and onto the hem of his robes. He audibly gasped and bounced backwards, landing on his heel and holding an outstretched palm towards the expanding puddle. He paused a moment and I froze in my stride towards the door.

“Stop there,” he commanded whilst still looking at the puddle, but I knew it was an order for me. The elf continued, “you’re in the Arcane Academy of Freeport. This would be my office—My tower,” he quickly corrected. The elf lowered his palm, satisfied that the coffee would not animate and attack him. He inhaled deeply, “Is that… was that cinnamon and coffee beans?” He tilted his head, a finger to his chin.

“PSL season, Mister. I can get ya one as thanks for helping me out of that bind but I really should be going.” I steeled myself, focusing, “I think I may have interrupted a casting or something. Arcane Academy wasn’t on my GPS and I am not sure where Freeport is. I live in Lyndale. It’s a shithole but the food ain’t bad.”

The elf snorted, stifling a chuckle. “Your mouth words amuse me but I am afraid you are no longer in Lyndale. This is Freeport. I’m also not part of a theatre troupe. My name is Cillean Finalen. I brought you here,” he gestured an outstretched hand to the Siamese cat which was now lovingly rubbing its’ musk all over the elf’s hemline which no doubt, smelled fiercely of pumpkin spice. “This is Kino, my familiar. He ensured your safe arrival here.”

He looked at me, practically staring. Like someone who had some horrible news to give, “You are not quite who I was looking for but you will do. We’ve a position at the Academy that is in need of filling. Do you have any experience with undead? Perhaps fiends? We’ve a problem with another nation as well. I can fill you in once you have regained your bearings—”

Bruh.

My mind swam and the room narrowed, darkness closing around. Thank goodness. The portal was returning to take me home. Cillean’s words echoed in my mind until they lost all meaning as he began to sound like one of the parents from that boomer cartoon with the kids and the dirty kid and the football.

“S-Sorry, elf guy… your mouth words are escapin’ me,” my eyes squinted, desperately trying to parse my surroundings. I found myself staring towards the makeshift cosmos. I could feel my consciousness slipping, the sounds of boot on stone could be heard swiftly approaching. I really hope they don’t call an ambulance. I can’t afford that.

Darkness took me once more, and then silence.