Lightning flashed, momentarily banishing the shadows that skulked around the edges of the ritual chamber. Thunder cracked a second later, the reverberating boom crashing against the thick stone walls. Dust rained down from the wooden rafters high overhead, whirling in tiny tornadoes of wind that slipped through the tiny gaps in the tall arched windows. The cascade of dust whipped joyously around the tall circular room, paused briefly at the top of an exceptionally high arc, then spun down directly into the face of the rooms only occupant, an old man on his hands and knees. He sneezed.

“Son of a Pox addled Donkeys Wife!” The old man yelled up at the roof. The roof, for its part, took no notice. “Don’t you understand what I’m doing here?” The old man turned back to the large chalk symbol in front of him. “Can’t get a moments peace. Where was I?” The old man muttered to himself. His eyes cast back and forth over the complex diagram, searching for flaws.

The diagram on the floor was a circle, fully three feet across and inset with a thirteen pointed star. Each point was several inches short of the circle, and was a slightly different length. A small circle was drawn near each of the star points, and inside each circle was a different arcane symbol. In the center of the whole thing stood a large iron cage. The old man scratched his wild white beard as he continued to stare at the symbols. “Need to keep the dust off it.” He mumbled. “Reginald needs to get up there and clean…no..is that symbol…yes? This would be a lot easier” he turned towards the ceiling “if someone stopped dropping dust on my head!” He yelled. The roof remained impassive.

He turned back to his work, tracing his wrinkled and chalk stained fingers in the air over the lines. “Draw once but check twice.” He said to himself. “Or, better, check thirteen times.” His finger completed it’s final circuit around the symbol. The old man pushed himself back up on his knees, brushing his hands off on his blood red robe. Wait. Red? He thought. He looked down at the robe. It was a beautiful garment, rich and red with delicate golden arcane symbols emblazoned on the hem and an inky black silk lining. He jumped to his feet, nearly tripping himself on the floor length robe in his haste.

“REGINALD!” He screamed angrily. “GET IN HERE!”

He breathed heavily, seething with bubbling rage. It took two full minutes before the small metal latch on the oversized wooden door clicked, and the door began to creep open. The old man crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. After a moment the diminutive creature known as Reginald slipped though the crack in the door and entered the room.

Reginald was a small, brown scaled creature with two arms, two legs, and a thin serpentine tail. He only had one reptile-like head, which the old man was grateful for. Reginald prattled enough with just one head. If he has been of the two headed variety it would be unbearable. The old man shuddered at the thought.

“Yessss, massster?” Reginald hissed, his long forked tongue sliding out between his long wickedly sharp teeth. The teeth would probably be fearsome and intimidating if they were canines instead of his front teeth. It made him look ridiculous instead.

The old man shuddered. "How many times must I tell you to stop that infernal hissing!" He snapped. "Now. Why am I wearing this robe Reginald?” He demanded with an imperious tone.

Reginald considered the question before responding carefully. “You wanted your bessst garmentsss to meet the princessss, massster.”

“Yes, well, why did you let me put them on early!” The old man demanded angrily. “Now they’re covered in chalk dust!”

Reginald blinked at the old man. “Ssssorry massster?” He asked.

“Sorry doesn’t get chalk dust out of a silk robe!” The old man raged.

“Would you like me to wassssh it massster?”

“I can’t meet the princess in a normal robe, you fool! It would take far too long to wash!”

Reginald considered the issue carefully for several seconds. “What would you like me to do massster?”

“Nothing!” The old man yelled, waving his arms. “There’s obviously nothing to be done!”

“Then.... why did you call me, massster?” Reginald asked with confusion.

“TO YELL AT YOU YOU INBRED BUFFOON!” The old man screamed at Reginald. “Now Get out of my face and don’t ever let this happen again!”

Reginald considered pointing out that, realistically, he had follow the masters orders exactly as they were given. It certainly wasn’t his fault that the master hadn’t thought things through. However, since Reginald had more intelligence than a common garden slug he also understood the better course of action. Namely, leaving as soon as possible.

Reginald slipped silently out the door, leaving the old man to mutter at his chalk drawings again.

Once he had calmed down, the old man walked over to a shelf against the curved wall of the room and picked up a small earthen jar. The word “Fayree Dust” was scrawled on the front in nearly illegible letters. He shuffled back over to the diagram. A wicked smile split the old man’s face as he pulled the top off the pot and grabbed a pinch of fairy dust between two still chalky fingers. He flung the dust over the circle.

A stray air current blew it directly back into his face. He covered his face with both hands as he sneezed. The pot of fairy dust, having been flung forward in the confusion, soared over the diagram. Enough fairy dust to power fifteen similar rituals flew out in all directions. The bulk of the pot’s payload landed directly in the circle, which began to glow an intense blue.

The old man was still shaking his head to clear it when he noticed the blue light. He froze. “Um….”

*****

Triss blinked in surprise. Seconds before, she had been driving her beat up old car to yet another job interview, and suddenly she was standing in an iron cage in a... dungeon? Tower? Yeah, tower. Some weird stone tower made with grey granite stones stacked tightly atop each other without mortar joints in between. Each stone was similarly sized and expertly laid, and Triss doubted a playing card would fit between each joint.

She had appreciated the skill that went into building with brick and stone ever since she spent two weeks working as an apprentice Mason. The job had interested her but not really suited her. Which was true of pretty much every job she'd held in the six years since her first part time job in high school.

The room was circular, with two tall wooden arched windows set on opposite sides. A distant flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room through one of them. One side of the room had a number of shelves against the wall, all built to follow the curve of the tower wall. Bottles, bags, clay pots and loose piles of assorted junk filled the shelves completely, stacked and strewn haphazardly. Past that a large table was pushed as close to the wall as it could be. It too was covered in piles of junk, with only a small square near the front kept clean, likely as a workspace. A tall, rough wooden door stood in the wall next to the table. The only other thing Triss could see was a large pile of red and black blankets mounded on the floor in front of her.

The pile of blankets moaned, and began to sit up. Triss may have been surprised under normal circumstances, but the shock of being teleported to somewhere had overfilled her surprise meter for the day. Instead, she just watched curiously as the pile unfolded itself and became a small, wizened old man.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The man had a wild white beard that stuck out in all directions, and a full head of white hair stuck straight up like it was trying to escape his head. The blankets - robes Triss realized as the man began to stand unsteadily up - were a deep red with gold symbols and a black interior that occasionally showed through the gaps in the sleeves or through the bottom. Two spindly legs, whiter than Triss had ever seen flashed briefly as the old man nearly tripped on his own robe.

At last the man made it to his feet. He swayed unsteadily for a brief moment, before turning to look directly at Triss. An evil grin spread across his face, and his dark grey eyes twinkled at her. A low, dark chuckle escaped his throat, followed by an evil laugh, then finished with a full blown villainous cackle, his head thrown back towards the ceiling. Triss expected a flash of lightning and crack of thunder to complete the scene. Instead, a bit of dust drifted down into the old man’s face, interrupting his laughter with a terrific sneeze.

“Bless you.” Triss said, automatically.

The old man froze. He stared at Triss, jaw slack, a small amount of snot running out of his nose from the sneeze. He stood straighter, faced her, and asked:

“Gajewoped jintoya asperinata?”

***

“What language are you speaking?” He asked.

“Whhhaaut” the woman replied incomprehensibly. The old man was filled with a dreadful premonition. “REGINALD!!” He turned and yelled. The woman in the cage jumped at the sudden sound. He clasped his arms behind his back and slowly circled the cage, examining the strange woman as he waited for Reginald to make his appearance. She turned in a circle to keep him in view as he strode.

She was a very strange looking woman. Young, though certainly old enough to be wed and have started spewing brats by now. He thought. Her hair was a dusty brown, shoulder length and frizzy. She wasn’t unattractive, though her nose was a hair too large to be considered truly beautiful. Her clothing though was the strangest of all. She wore a shirt with sleeves that ended halfway between her shoulder and her elbow, and instead of a proper dress she wore some form of finely woven blue pants that seemed like they might be quite valuable. Strange garb... probably not a princess, certainly not a peasant.

The click of the door latch interrupted his inspection. Reginald must have been close, to have arrived so quickly. “Ah. Reginald. Yes. Tell me.” The old man stepped closer to the lizard-like creature. “Does this look like the princess of Gastonia to you?”

Reginald stepped closer to the cage to inspect the woman. She shrank back slightly as he approached. "Ssshe doesss not ssseeem to be massster."

"Do you believe her to be from Gastonia at all?

Reginald regarded the woman carefully for a moment before shaking his head.

"Yes. Right. And if you'll recall Reginald, you were the one who tracked down the correct symbols for the nation of Gastonia, correct?"

"Yesss, massster.

"And this woman is not a princess of Gastonia, and likely not a resident of Gastonia. Possibly not even this continent. Therefore, Reginald," the old man looked directly at the creature, "the failure of this spell is ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!!" He finished with a yell that echoed around the chamber.

Reginald stared blankly at the old man. The he leaned slightly to look past the old man at the piles of fairy dust scattered across the floor. With great effort, he managed to avoid sighing or rolling his eyes as he responded. “Sssssorrry massssster.”

The old man shuddered. “Stop with that infernal hissing! Now. Help me with a spell. We need to fix whatever language this useless non-princess woman is speaking.”

****

Triss was slightly unnerved when the lizard creature first came in the room, backing up when it peered into the cage to look at her. It was short, probably only four feet tall. It wore dark grey pants and a black tunic that hung below his waist. It had brown scaly skin, a snake-like tail, and a long snout with sharp teeth sticking out at the front. Its two large round eyes sat a little farther apart than a person’s would, making the creature look like a cross eyed crocodile with an overbite. It was adorable!

The old guy and the lizard had a brief conversation she couldn’t understand. They seemed to be speaking the same language, though the lizard seemed to hiss quite a bit as it spoke. The old guy seemed to be bothered by the hissing, a look of annoyance growing on his face every time the creature spoke. Suddenly, the old man yelled at the lizard!

Triss frowned. She had spent five months working with at an animal shelter. It was one of the longest jobs she’d ever held because she absolutely loved animals. Even the old or ugly ones. Actually, if she was honest, she especially loved the old and ugly ones. So when the old man started yelling at the poor so-ugly-its-cute lizard, she gained an overwhelming urge to protect the poor little lizard person from the mean old man.

The old man and the lizard walked over the the shelf and started going over the different items. The continued to speak to one another in their strange language, the lizard hissing regularly and the old man occasionally yelling at the lizard. Triss figured they must be making a potion or doing a spell of some kind. The old man was obviously some sort of wizard, judging by the robes and the diagrams under the cage she was in. Being teleported to a new place was also a bit of a giveaway.

Triss watched the two intently. She had been a bit of a Harry Potter nerd, so she was quite interested to see what real magic was like. It seemed at first they must be making a potion, since they kept sorting through ingredients from the shelf. The old man went over the the table, rummaged around in the chaotic mess for a moment, then pulled out a large book. He lay it open on the table and flipped to a page. He yelled over his shoulder at the lizard. The lizard hissed in response. The old man spun, yelling at the lizard in fury. The lizard hissed calmly back. The old man turned again to his book, muttering angrily.

The lizard began bringing pots and jars over the old man. Wizard, actually. Triss corrected herself. The wizard pulled a small cauldron out and began dumping in ingredients in what seemed to Triss an entirely haphazard manner. He flipped a page in the book, then yelled at the lizard again. The lizard brought over some more items which were dumped unceremoniously into the cauldron. The wizard then pulled a small stick out of his robes -a wand! - and proceeded to stir the cauldron vigorously. Triss couldn't keep the grin off her face as she watched an actual wizard doing actual magic!

After stirring for a moment, the wizard pulled the wand out and tapped it on the edge of the cauldron. He waved it over the concoction and muttered something. There was a bright flash followed by a cloud of purple smoke. The wizard started coughing as the smoke blasted him straight in the face. He spun around, and his beard was now half purple and white, and his face was red as a beet. He started yelling at the lizard, who shrugged and pointed at the book on the table. The wizard growled at the book as he started to flip the page back and forth. His eyes narrowed, and then he pulled two stuck pages apart. He glanced over at the lizard, who was quite obviously pretending not to notice the wizards error.

The wizard waved his wand again and a large glob of purple goo lifted up out of the cauldron. He walked the floating glob to one of the windows, lifted a panel and flung it out into the night.

After another fifteen minutes of adding, stirring and wand waving the wizard seemed satisfied. He tapped the cauldron one final time while speaking the same sort of incantation. A thin white whisp of smoke rose out of the cauldron, swirling and spinning. The white smoke began to gather above the cauldron, spinning faster and faster, drawing the smoke like a spinning wheel gathering thread. The white thread soon stopped rising and was all drawn into growing orb. With a small popping noise it stopped spinning and floated gently in place.

Triss was absolutely fascinated by spectacle. She watched in amazement as the wizard gently prodded the orb with the tip of his wand. The smoky orb pulsed gently, then elongated and flattened into an oval shape. Two small holes opened through the smoke, a little like eye holes. The holes blinked. Triss blinked back. The wizard turned to her with wicked grin. He swung his arm swiftly, pointing the wand at her head. The smoke creature shot forward, slamming into her and wrapping her head in ice cold fog.

Triss gasped involuntarily, inhaling the smoke deep into her chest. The rest of the smoke suddenly forced its way up her nostrils and deep down into her lungs. Chills pulsed through her body and she collapsed to her knees, smashing them against the hard iron cage. The cold feeling began to gather in her chest, then rose up through her body and collecting in her head. She vaguely noticed she was screaming, the hot pain in her throat dulled as the ice cold smoke passed through her neck. An intense pain stabbed through her head like an icicle through the brain. The pain grew and grew til she felt like her head would turn to a block of ice.

The cold drew in tighter and tighter in her head until suddenly, it vanished. She was on her hands and knees, hot blood creeping through her jeans and staining the floor of the cage. Her throat was raw, her breathing ragged, her brown hair stuck to the sweat that now covered her forehead. Thoughts flew through her mind too fast to comprehend.

"Do you think it worked master?"

Triss's head snapped up. She stared at the lizard creature with wild eyes. She understood it!

The wizard moved to stand directly in front of her. He crouched down to look at her. His eyes were bright blue, cold, and hard as a glacier. He gave her a predatory smile, like a shark looking at a small wounded fish.

"Oh, I suspect it did."