Topic: Shrunken Mischief On Wings

Fey

Date: 2009-06-07 12:26 EST
Fey realized a little belatedly that playing tricks on a mage with no great sense of humor might have been a bad idea. And it hadn't even been that bad a prank, or so he had thought. He had merely rummaged among the spell components in the man's shops and put things in the wrong places, hid his cat in the cauldron, a bad idea in hindsight, and then sat up in the rafters to watch the mischief happen.

It had all gone well at first the man had been grumbling about things being put in the wrong places but hadn't really been overly bothered by it, complaining about his apprentice and reminding himself to have a long talk with the lad.

Then came the trouble. He began to work a spell. And the first thing was a spell that brought up a fire under the previously cold cauldron. The cat, at first only getting warm from it, was soon screeching at the heat. The man quickly took the lid off and came face to face with a raging tabby. It leaped with claws extended and raked the man as it leaped for the rafters.

Balance upset, the mage tumbled. Right into the shelves of components. Shelves broke and bottles fell to the floor with crashes of breaking glass. Fey's eyes were wide from his place in the rafters. This wasn't good. And the only exit was past the man and out the door or down to the windows, which were equally in the man's sight.

Fey knew that he was in trouble. He sat there in the rafters, quiet with his grin faded to just a hint of pearly teeth.

The man took a few moments to gather himself before standing and looking around in disgust and anger. Broken bottles and jars lay on the floor, components tainted and mixed. He looked up, eyes seeking the errant cat and his eyes alighted on the errant dragon instead. His eyes narrowed. "You. You're responsible for this."

Now, Fey could have lied. He could have said that he had been up there waiting for the mage for his master and he had fallen asleep or any number of other lies that might have kept him out of trouble. But Fey was not a liar and had never learned the art of doing so. Better for some but bad for him at that moment. He didn't even consider the thought of lying.

Instead, he lowered his head and nodded, confessing in the simple gesture. "I didn't mean to cause so much trouble. I apologize."

Now for many, that might have been nearly enough when it came down to it but this mage was different. He was angry. Very angry. And, without stopping to think, he picked up one of the few unbroken bottles, poured a little bit of the powder within onto his hand, spoke arcane words and tossed it at him.

Fey's perspective suddenly shifted and he looked at himself quickly. He was all there. Wings, body, tail, everything that he could see. He couldn't even feel any difference. Then he looked up and saw the cat looking at him. When had the cat gotten that big. That was when he realized. Fey looked again and, with using other things as a gauge on size, found himself to now be the size of a small kitten.

He blinked and looked at the cat. It had crouched to pounce and without thinking, he leaped from the rafter onto butterfly wings now close to the size of a butterfly's. He managed to dodge the cat's leap in that manner and without a backwards look, he was out an open window and gone.

He flew to land on a tree branch and that was where he found himself. It took him little more than a minute to get over the shock and then he was grinning once again. This was going to be a whole new adventure.