The sight of the tiny, caged fairy haunted Leo. He couldn't shake the image of its desperate, dimming light. All his new business plans, all the excitement of discovering a new world, were soured by that one act of casual cruelty.
He was a businessman, yes. But he wasn't heartless. And more than that, he now possessed a power that meant he didn't have to just stand by. He could do something.
He formulated a plan, simple and risky. He went to his garage and took two pristine, glass-stoppered bottles of Clarity. One for the trade, one for a backup... or a distraction. He had no idea what silver was worth, but he knew the value of his water.
Tucking the bottles carefully into a small, nondescript canvas bag, he took a deep breath, and opened the door to his master bathroom once more. The chaotic sounds and smells of the Plaza of Wonders flooded in.
He stepped through, emerging from what, on this side, looked like the doorway to a dusty, abandoned storeroom. He kept one hand near the shimmering frame of his escape route, just in case.
The wiry merchant was still there, shouting his wares. "Living light! A real pixie! Keeps the gloom from your room! Three silver pieces!"
Leo approached the stall, his modern clothes drawing a few curious stares, but most people were too absorbed in their own business to care. He stood before the merchant, his eyes fixed on the sad little cage.
The merchant's eyes lit up. "Ah, a potential customer! A man of taste, I see! You won't find another like her this side of the Dragon's Tooth mountains!"
Leo pointed at the cage. "I want her."
"Excellent choice, my good sir! A fine eye for quality! That'll be three silver pieces," the merchant said, rubbing his grubby hands together.
Leo shook his head slowly. "I don't have silver," he said, his voice low and steady. He had to sell this performance. "I pay with other things."
The merchant's smile faltered. "No coin, no pixie. I don't do trade for old rags, stranger."
Leo reached into his bag and slowly pulled out one of the bottles of Clarity. The sunlight caught the clear glass and the absolutely pure water within, making it sparkle like a cut diamond. He placed it on the rough wooden stall. It looked utterly alien and supremely valuable amongst the vendor's other junk.
"I am a mage," Leo said, channeling every fantasy novel he'd ever read. He lowered his voice to what he hoped was a mysterious and powerful tone. "I deal in potions, not trinkets."
The merchant eyed the bottle skeptically. "A potion, you say? Smells like water. Looks like water."
"It is a potion of... vitality," Leo improvised, his mind racing. "One sip will wash away a day's weariness. A full bottle can mend aching bones and restore a youthful vigor."
To demonstrate, Leo unstoppered his second bottle, poured a tiny splash into the cap, and drank it himself with a flourish. He tried to look as magisterial as possible. The merchant still looked unconvinced.
A big, brawny man in a blacksmith's apron, drawn by the commotion, swaggered over. "What's all this, then? A potion? Let me see that." Before the merchant could stop him, the blacksmith snatched the bottle from the stall, uncorked it, and took a deep, skeptical swig.
He froze. His eyes widened. He rolled his massive shoulders. "By the forge..." he breathed, his voice filled with astonishment. "My damned smithy-shoulder... the ache is... gone." He looked at Leo with newfound awe, then back at the merchant. "Give the mage what he wants, you fool! This is the real thing!"
The merchant's demeanor changed instantly from skepticism to greasy excitement. A healing potion! Those were worth a fortune! Way more than three silver. He had to have it.
"Ahem. Well," the merchant sputtered. "A fine potion indeed! A masterful creation! Worth at least... ten silvers!"
Leo held his ground. "The price was three silvers," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. He pointed at the cage. "That, for this." He pointed at the bottle. "A fair exchange. Take it, or I shall take my business elsewhere." He made a show of reaching for the bottle.
"No, no! Wait!" the merchant squeaked, terrified of losing the miracle potion. "Done! A deal! It's a deal!"
With trembling hands, the merchant unhooked the small iron cage and shoved it toward Leo. Leo, in turn, slid the bottle of Clarity across the stall.
The moment his fingers closed around the cage's handle, Leo didn't wait. He didn't want to answer any more questions. He took one step back, concentrated on his safe, suburban home, and activated his escape route.
The air behind him tore open into a glowing rectangle of beige tile and floral shower curtain.
From the merchant's perspective, one moment the strange mage was there, and the next he had stepped backward into a hole made of pure light and vanished. The blacksmith's jaw hit the cobblestones. They both stared at the empty space, then at the bottle of miracle water, then back at the empty space.
The merchant shuddered, a deep, primal fear gripping him. "Thank the gods I didn't try to cheat him," he whispered, clutching the bottle of Clarity like a holy relic. He took a small, reverent sip, feeling a day's worth of fatigue from shouting wash away. Delicious. And profitable.
Leo tumbled back into his bathroom, the cage held tight in his hands. He slammed the portal shut and leaned against the door, his heart hammering. He looked down at the tiny, terrified creature in the cage.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "You're safe now." He had the perfect place for a tiny, magical creature to live. "The elves won't mind, right?" he thought, already heading for the garage. It was time for a trip to the Sanctum.