I'd been sleeping better in the Cradle than I ever did on Earth. A change of pace seemed to be something that helped me rest. Spending myself at the smithy likely contributed, as well. I spent a few minutes massaging my arms before I had breakfast, and arrived at work in higher spirits than I ever had before. That was such an idea for me: wanting to go to work. Things would never be sunshine and rainbows. I was not irresponsible enough to delude myself into such ideas, but it felt nice to have a moment in which to enjoy a good thing while it lasted. The woman who had approached me yesterday wasn't present today, which was disappointing. I had hoped to make up for my inability to talk with her yesterday. How long would I wonder what she had asked me, and feel guilty about not being able to answer? It didn't surprise me that my social anxiety had followed me to this world, as well. These were the thoughts that occupied my mind while I set up for the day; the sun was just beginning to rise, and Keff hadn't arrived yet. He was a man of rather strict routines, his organization constant and particular. It was easy to replicate the arrangement of tools and the approximate temperature of the forge. The sounds of my work eventually drew the smith's presence. He emerged, met my eyes, and gave me a nod of approval. Our work began.
This was the fourth day in a row I spent at the shop, and I was really feeling it. My arms dreaded each reverberation cast by the impacting hammer. "Is there a common rest day here?"
"We rest when I decide we rest. How's your arms?"
"Sore, honestly."
"I'm surprised you lasted this long," Keff quipped. The stream of customers had been slow but steady today, and he had seen that I could handle them well while he continued to work. A calculating eye glanced back into the shop. "I can't stand running back and forth between the forge and the stock. When we're busy, you can handle the store, run me material. When we're not, you help me out here. Deal?"
"Deal," I confirmed. This was much nicer than being told to 'suck it up.' Diversifying the type of work I was doing would help my muscles develop, and allow me to use my strengths in a more helpful way than my weaknesses. An hour passed before I was able to test myself in this new role. I offered the new arrival a smile. "Good morning, welcome. What can I d-"
"Longsword," grunted the armored tower of a woman. She was just as rough around the edges as Keff was. After following me into the store, she pointed at one of the finer swords hanging on the wall and began to dig into her coin purse. "That one."
"This one?" I retrieved the indicated weapon and carefully placed it atop the sales counter. My raised brow telegraphed my surprise at the chosen weapon. It was silvered, for one, and though it appeared as if the exposed hilt should be ornate in decoration, it wasn't. Keff's utilitarian approach must have been popular with the locals; the guard's crest, crossed black blades against green fabric with a blue river bend akin to an omega, clued me in to the woman's origins.
"You got cloth in your ears?" She very rudely inquired. I felt indignation rise in my chest until I realized that I indeed had cloth in my ears. I removed my makeshift earplugs and pocketed them, thankful that both my clothing and smith's apron both featured pockets. I internally admonished myself for having such a knee-jerk emotional response.
"Sorry. Just a second." The miniscule pricing book was located beneath the desk. As I bent down, my tail decided to wander, and ended up brushing against the head of a halberd that hung from the wall. I reflexively pulled it away, cutting it in the process; I had inadvertently dragged my tail against it. "Agh," I winced, and tagged the underside of the counter with my lengthened face in the course of standing back up. Clearly, I was doing a wonderful job of keeping my composure with my first customer in earnest. "This sword is 120 gold."
"120? It was 115 last time. Keff knows me."
"It's the price Keff set... just a moment. Keff! Price reduction?"
"Betiara, again?"
"Yeah, again. The last one bent."
"That's what happens when you use your sword like a club, you oaf."
"Oh, is it?" Betiara removed her helmet to show the smith a surprisingly good-natured smile. Her straight, black hair was pulled into an orderly knot behind her head, framed by elven ears, though not as long as others I had seen. Dark grease paint adorned her cheeks that made her yellow eyes stand out in stark contrast. "The new girl's nervy."
"I'm working on it," Keff assured with a chuckle. A heap of gold was dug out, counted, and placed upon the counter. Betiara took her new sword and left without waiting for me to count the money. I felt like I had just been played, and hastily totaled the transaction. There were two extra coins.
"She either miscounted or left me a tip," I said as I presented Keff with the payment for the sword. "122 gold. What's her deal?"
"Captain of the guard. Goes through swords like I go through new hires." He pocketed all but one of the gold coins, which he tossed to me. Off my guard, it hit my dress and fell to the floor among the coal dust. I pocketed the coin after dusting it off; this was kind of both parties, as unpleasant as they could be on the surface at times.
"You have friends in high places," I remarked, thinking of Sekvi and the fact that they and Keff had previously been involved in some capacity.
"Good things come in small packages." We shared a hearty laugh as I set to boiling a rag to wrap around my tail. It hadn't bled much, as the wound wasn't very deep, but I was very wary of infection. The warmth was soothing for the little time it would last in the cool air of either Spring or Autumn. I would have to be careful with this new addition to myself. With my concerns eased, I returned to my duties at the forge. The day wore on from there, uneventful and quiet, until I summoned the nerve to ask a question that had been burning a hole in me.
"Keff, why did you help me, of all people? We couldn't even talk to each other."
"I thought I told you not to worry about it." I didn't know what to say in response. Asserting that I wasn't one to follow orders blindly felt like the wrong dialog option. "Do I need a reason? You were scared of your own shadow."
"I guess you'd be surprised at how few people would see that. Earth isn't really like this."
"No I wouldn't." I believed him. Those eyes had absolutely seen things. "Sorry, Keff. I didn't mean it like that."
"I know." I believed those words, too. The rest of the work day went by without many words. My focus went into improving my presentational stability when dealing with customers and the two axe heads I managed to finish. They looked better now that I was getting the hang of making harder strikes; periodically resting my arms was already paying dividends. The usual one gold, two silver was my pay for the day. Keff pointed out that my technique was improving, and that I learned quickly after all. He told me to keep it up as he shooed me off to Sekvi's tower. The colors that rose above the mountains during sunset reminded me of the colors I had seen in my scales: yellow and pink. It filled me with a small sense of wonder. Did the sky know something I didn't? The thought struck me as silly until I remembered everything I had been through this week; for all I knew, the sky could know something after all. What remained silly was the idea that the sky would be looking at me when there were an untold amount of others in the world. Still, it was an enjoyable coincidence. I found that the procedure for entering Sekvi's tower was identical to that of yesterday. Atop the stairs, I noticed that the interior of the tower had been rearranaged. It was more orderly than it was before, and a new area had been established between the irresponsible combination kitchen and alchemy lab and the library. A chalkboard stood before a small desk and chair with at least a dozen books piled atop. I hoped Sekvi rembembered that I wouldn't be able to read those books yet.
It was then that I heard the renewed dragging of chalk against the back side of the chalkboard. "Madison! I'm almost ready for you. My schedule is cleared, so is the floor; I'm just drawing a few things up. Make yourself at school." Sekvi was apparently reluctant to waste time, much like their former partner. That suited me well. I sat down, unsure of what to expect as I made myself comfortable in the chair. It was a task in that it had a solid back; my mixed back of an injured tail required some creative positioning. The seconds passed in silence while I waited. This eventually became too nerve-wracking for me to withstand any longer. "So, how are you doing?"
"I am positively abuzz with curiosity." This measured, yet earnest response didn't interrupt the sounds of chalk on slate. A different sound, one of erasure, followed. I surmised the wizard must have written the word they were speaking instead of the one they had intended to write. I often found myself doing the same thing when typing on my computer. "You see, I am not only a student of magic, but one of history, and I've assembled an according theory." Sekvi emerged from behind the chalkboard to lean their shoulder against it with a smirk. "I believe what you've told me. However, it seems, mm, unlikely that you've migrated intentionally or otherwise from an entirely different multiverse to this one. That would mean that you may have come from a plane within this multiverse, possibly one that hasn't yet been discovered. Tell me, what did you call your planet?"
"Earth." I was unsure of what to think of the proposed theory, so I reserved any judgments until I had a more detailed picture of what was being presented to me.
"Earth. There is an elemental plane of earth! But we'll get to that later in your tutelage; I'm getting off track." Sekvi straightened their posture and flipped the board to reveal a prepared diagram in two parts. "You're likely feeling overwhelmed right now. You'll need to accustom yourself to that feeling, as magic is often overwhelming. The more fortified intellectual will will prevail!"
"I'll do my best." This was quite a lot for me to take in; what was I supposed to say here? I hadn't stopped to think about whether I cared about magic, or if I even believed in such things. My lack of preparation hit me like a ton of bricks when I realized that I had already been shown two examples of it. It felt silly to disregard these examples when one of them now allowed me to speak with people. "Where do we start?"
"The basics! First, we begin with the the sources of magic: arcane, divine, esoterica and primal. You'll be casting magic or affecting magical effects from one or more of these sources. Questions?"
"Yes, um..." I felt it best to set any preconceived notions I had aside, apart from one. Assuming any of these sources of magic wouldn't help me learn very well. "Can you explain these to me?"
"Absolutely. Arcane magic is what I cast, and what I believe you had cast during your dream... if it was a dream. That's another conversation entirely. Anyway, arcane magic originates from the Weave. The strings you saw are what comprise this Weave, and these strings are threads of possibility that tie all of existence together. By casting arcane magic, you manipulate these vehicles of possibility, and in that becoming the driver."
"Okay... and you think that's what I did when I plucked the string I found?"
"At the risk of derailing my lesson plan again, yes. I don't know how, I don't know why, but you were somehow able to access the physical-metaphysical space of the Weave and act upon them. That, or they acted upon you. These are all details I aim to discern in my study of you. On the topic at hand, divine casting is next. The Cradle features many divine forces, gods and goddesses, in other words, that vie for various domains and powers. Some individuals can contact these individuals and gain magical abilities specifically through contact or contract with such forces. Do you venerate any systems of religious beliefs, by any chance?"
"No." I could almost feel the weight of water in robes I unwillingly wore in my childhood, the same weight in my ears and eyes. Religion and I didn't get along very well.
"Then you're likely not a divine caster." Sekvi had a hesitant tone in their voice; they must have been put off by the flatness of my response. They seemed like the type to self-correct, so I decided not to interfere with their intellectual trajectory. This decision was the right one. "Moving on, we reach esoterica. This is the collective term for all non-standard magic, usually utilized by niche groups. You don't strike me as such an individual, especially if you're not religiously involved."
"I don't think I am," I replied in a gentler inflection. I felt the need to fidget, and scratched the back of my right hand.
"That leaves primal magic. Primal magic originates from forces of life and the collective... presence of this planet, the natural world. I believe that if you're not an arcane caster, you'll likely fall into this category. Do you feel any particular tie to nature?"
"Well," I began, hoping my report would be relevant to this discovery process. "Social interactions can be difficult for me, so sometimes I go to the park or the Susquehanna River and just... sit there and think. It calms me down when I feel too anxious, trapped in a box around too many people. Does that count?"
"It may, I suppose." Sekvi eyed me with patient eyes while they tapped their chin. "In any case, I'll keep that in mind. I hope it helps to know that I'm the same way, I simply have a lot of practice. My duties often include consult or diplomacy... but enough about me, it's time to cover the schools of magic. Abjuration, Chronurgy, Conjuration, Divination, which is my specialty, Enchantment, Evocation, Graviturgy, Illusion, Necromancy, and Transmutation. The names are self-explanatory, unless you need clarification."
"I guess I could use some clarification on Evocation and Chronurgy. English vocabulary in school covered the suffix 'chron,' which can either mean light or time, depending on how it's spelled. Evocation seems kind of close to Conjuration by the name."
"They are! In this instance, Chronurgy refers to the manipulation and study of time. Divination approaches it, in detecting information to come, but Chronurgy is far more hands-on. It's not something I'm willing to touch, as fiddling with such things is, ah, irrelevant to our lesson here. Evocation involves evoking elemental magic for primarily practical casting. It differs from Conjuration by the fact that an evoker summons elemental forces instead of objects or creatures. Evocation borrows raw forms in the shape of their choosing, and Conjuration borrows already extant shapes from other locations or concepts. By the way, I've provided some paper and a pen for you in case you feel like taking notes."
"Oh, alright. Just a second, then." Sekvi definitely wanted to take a look at my English lettering. Humility would be the name of this exercise; my handwriting wasn't the best. I notated the sources and schools of magic alongside a shorthand explanation of each so that I wouldn't forget these crucial building blocks. "What if I can't use magic after all? Is that a possibility?"
"I personally don't believe so, not after your experience. You not only plucked a string of possibility, but you've changed your physical form at the same time. You said that you used to be human, and, well, you appear to be a dragonborn now. Unless this was some kind of strange cosmic accident, you were the one to make that happen. Besides, I find that ability and willingness are very closely entwined."
"I don't know which I'd prefer, honestly," I sardonically mused as I finished my notes. I felt a draw to continue moving forward, though I was aware of my tendency to get ahead of myself. It was something I had to keep tightly controlled so that I didn't burn myself out or make boneheaded mistakes; I could only imagine the stakes magical embarrassment would carry. Looking up at my teacher granted me a glimpse of their concerned expression before it changed into their usual enthusiasm. In query of how we could determine what kind of caster I may be, we talked for some length of time. Sekvi read from their various books that detailed the basic principles of magic and how they could be applied. They commended me for my ability to absorb and connect to the provided information in the relevant contexts. I had a mind fit for this subject, apparently. We eventually retired to their study to wind down with some tea; unlike Sekvi, I took mine decaffeinated. The cup in my hand steamed into the air, and I couldn't help but watch it. If I were able to cast magic after all, what kind would it be? I'd been assured that I wouldn't be limited to one type, and that I would simply have a specialty in one type. That suited me; I enjoyed keeping myself open-ended when possible. Trails of heat rose into the air and dissipated into nothingness like so many of my thoughts. "Have you taught someone like this before?"
"I tried to teach Keff," they explained, casually leaning to the side in their chair, haphazardly holding their cup with a single finger. "That's what taught me how important willingness is. You won't get far with magic if you aren't willing to." Appraising yellow eyes fell upon me, studying me closely. We were at stark contrasts with each other; I sat stiff and upright in my chair, filled with uncertainty, and Sekvi was ever my opposite. "Are you willing?"
"I was just wondering that," I confessed on the tail end of a sip of my tea. The peculiar yellow leaves imparted a fruity flavor to the tea that I found enjoyable. "I'm overwhelmed. Not by you, not by this, just..."
"Everything?"
"Yeah. The furthest I get is that it's all going to be colored by how long I'll be here, and I have no idea how long that might be. What if I'm here forever? What if I'm gone tomorrow, you know?"
"Why let that color your ambition?" Sekvi asked in genuine interest. I wondered if they knew something I didn't.
"Well, if I won't be here long, I probably shouldn't get too invested in magic."
"You couldn't take the lessons you learn here and apply them on Earth?"
"How? Magic doesn't exist on Earth."
"Oh." The blank stare that met my assertion told me far more than I wanted to know. There was a subtle fall to Sekvi's expression; they felt sorry for me. Their teacup gently met its paired saucer upon the desk, and they leaned forward in their chair. "This isn't just about magic. It's about your experience as a person. Have you not experienced anything here that was new to you? Noteworthy, beneficial in any way?" I was taken aback by the question and could do little more than stare at Sekvi while I contemplated my answer.
"You and Keff have been really kind to me."
"Is... that a new experience for you?"
"It's not common. Not on Earth." My answer felt far heavier than I had meant it to be. A stillness settled over the room that brought Sekvi to look past me. Their point landed, however: even if I were to wake up in my own bed tomorrow, this place would be something I'd remember for the rest of my life.
"What is it you want? Would you rather stay here, or go back to Earth?" The question drove into me like a railroad spike. I felt all the pressure within me bleed out of my breath, leaving me hollow. Empty. Still. Exposed. I didn't know. My gut had no information for me, only a nebulous mess of reluctant battle. Sekvi must have been able to see it, for they continued, "I think that answer will be far more decisive for you than expectations of time. I don't mean to call upset to the surface, but this is the cornerstone of your willingness. Are you prepared for that?"
"Pff, no," I answered emphatically. "But my time as an adult has taught me that it doesn't matter if I'm ready for something or not. I understand what you're saying; if I get wrapped up in the future and its possibilities, I won't be living right now. ...it's funny, I'm often accused of 'living in the past.'"
"Do you?"
"No. The consequences of it stick around, and that's all people see before they say that to me."
"Short-sighted assumptions, yes. I'm happy you're not like those individuals are. You're actually proving to be an excellent student, but if I may..." Sekvi stood from their chair, rounded it from the back, and folded their arms atop it. Their head came to roll lightly from side to side atop said arms. "...that doesn't matter here. As long as you're here, your past can only reach you as far as you let it, and I think you already know that. Keff told me you were in high spirits today; you feel the freedom from what affects you on Earth, don't you?" I reluctantly had to agree with their assessment. How did they get that information from Keff? Magic. It was magic. An uneasy noise was all I could manage in response; this truth was, as truths often were, uncomfortable. "We should get some rest. Would you like me to walk you back to the inn?"
"I... think I should focus on my thoughts, but thank you. So I didn't fail out of school on my first day?"
"Far from it. On the contrary, you've earned homework! Take stock of your willingness, and how that willingness, once you have it, could translate into a way of using magic that speaks to you. As well, I'm often busy and task-oriented, but if you ever need someone to talk to, Keff and I are willing to hear you as long as you feel you'll be heard. Okay?" Sekvi smiled as I nodded my head in quiet appreciation. "See you tomorrow, Madison."
"You, too. Oh! Uh, sorry, do you have a mirror? I need to see my face." Sekvi's eyebrows shot upward, and they rummaged through a nearby drawer until they found a mirror. I took a moment to brace myself before I held it up. My hand faltered, nearly enough to drop the mirror entirely. I was struck silent by the foreign shape I had taken. My brow was light, but retained an amount of ferocity I had inferred by touch. Vertical pupils split golden irises and caught the light with a metallic quality that matched that of my scales. I beheld the face of a dragon, and it shook me to my core. For better or worse was a mystery, but I couldn't deny that I had no issue with my new appearance. The tip of my tiny beak was almost cute, and my face was free of any spines, which spoke to me of youth and femininity. Crowning the visual, though, were my horns. All of the building pressure and upset in me had vanished to make room for what I now saw in the mirror. How had this happened, and why? What if Sekvi was right, and I'd done this to myself? If I had, then I suppose I could have made myself look much worse. I thanked Sekvi and we parted well for the night.
The walk back to the inn felt much longer than the distance suggested. A chill hung in the air as fog rolled in from the river. Luckily, I was still able to see amid the dampened light of the town. My tangled thoughts reveled in the time they were afforded to dance around my head. Storefronts, homes and gardens framed my lonely journey, but I didn't feel lonely, not entirely. Solitude was something I was reasonably used to. Aside from that fact, there were Sekvi and Keff, both of whom were invested in my integration into this world without regard for how long I would have to return that investment. I'd been given a challenge in my life: to rise to the occasion. I didn't feel very willing until I saw my new face. The mirror usually showed me someone that was unremarkable, tired, and afraid. Today I looked surprised, almost rapturous in wonder. I felt new, as if I'd started over. I held this feeling inside me as gently as I could, reluctant to part with the catharsis it provided. Once I reached the inn, I paid for my room and had my food in the dining area. I wanted people to see me while I ate. As sparse as the room was, I noticed the woman from the other day was present. I introduced myself and explained to her that I was having trouble with my ears that day, and that it had been remedied. She had only been asking me for directions, but thanked me for following up with her. It was a pleasant enough interaction even with the unsavory lie I felt compelled to use as cover.
I lay in bed, full, warm and mystified by the roiling emotion that pervaded my being. My hands traced over my face while I closed my eyes so that I could create an internal map of my new features. This felt like it would provide me security and grounding, and I was right. The scales that now covered my skin were smooth and nicely rounded. My horns, however, felt like the centerpiece of my transformation. They were so powerful in a way that I felt affirmed me without sacrificing an ounce of who I felt I was. My height was a new adjustment, however, and I had felt terribly embarrassed as they clipped the frame of the doorway earlier. I had to be over six feet tall now. I was so much taller than the other women, but no one had regarded me unfavorably since I had first arrived. If anything, I was a curiosity to the people of the town. Keff was right; dragonborn were not a common sight. It felt pretty to feel pretty. I rested quietly with that thought as I discovered that resting on my back was not easily possible with my horns; sleeping on my side was a worthy sacrifice. A giggle lifted from me as I considered the inanity of the thought. Today had been a big day, indeed. I slowly drifted off with only the light of stars to highlight my pensive slumber.