The Tengu was a whole two feet in height, maybe, holding the tray of food above his head. His crow face could smile with the black fleshy corners of his beak and a laugh echoed from his bulging feathered throat as he greeted them. The entirety of his body was the silky quills with scaled skin for his skinny arms and legs. Jonah stared at him, amazed by the tiny person, especially that he wasn’t a puppet of some kind. The transformation of Aiko was so sudden and his time seeing the tiger so brief. Diana took the tray from Coal casually, setting it on the nightstand, she smiled at Jonah’s hanging jaw.

“Monty said you wished to see me, marvel at me. Is that right, Traveler?” Coal asked, flexing his arms, half feather, half talon. With a hop, his wings fluttered and he landed on the bed, continuing his flexing show. There was a bright red tunic on him, held together with white cords, and a puffy pair of shorts for bottoms. “Ha!” He spread his wings out, far wider than he was tall. A lone feather flew out and swirled to the bed. Coal swooped it up and handed it to Jonah. “Here Traveler, a memento for you.”

Jonah held the feather in his fingers, twirling it.

“Imagine your highness, coming from a place without such amazing people as you or I!” he said, bowing to the princess with a leveling of his wings.

“He is a human, just like me, good sir,” Diana said, laughing with a hand in front of her face.

“You might be the same species, but surely there are no princesses as beautiful as she in your world, Traveler,” Coal said, both talons directed at her.

Diana rolled her eyes at the flattery. “You don’t have to answer that, Jonah,” she said.

“No, there’s not,” he said suddenly. “There aren’t any princesses that look like her.”

“Hm, hm, are there none, are there many? Do you come from a world of princesses and still none compare?” Coal asked, stroking his bottom bill.

Jonah paused in thought, this answer required a lot more than a moment. All the mystery and wonder settled into him. It started to boil in the cauldron of his body into something horribly rancid. This world allowed all these fantastical creations brought to walking and talking life. His planet had millions of ideas, worlds filled with intricate constructions. The native and the ordinary had so much variety as well. That frightening edge had never left him, that every new corner had a knife as well as hope. He should be happy now, but all he could think of was how many metaphorical knives of worry and fear he had still sticking in his back.

So what could he say trying to describe a world had wounded him so much? “I come from a world of eight billion plus people, parts of it always at war,” he said, sighing. “There’s no magic, no gods, and no one gets along. Apparently we’re killing it or something too. I don’t know, just everything was bad all the time and I hated being there.” He grimaced, noticing the shocked expressions. “Sorry, I’m being too negative, that’s my problem.”

Coal snapped his beak shut, hissing air through his fluted nostrils. “How unfortunate, Traveler, we are glad to have you here,” he said, giving him a rallying fist, but the placid response showed him it hadn't worked.

Jonah was so embarrassed. He was better off not saying anything at all.

“Good sir, Jonah is in a lot of pain, and he’s just risen from a long stasis into a whole new planet,” Diana said, offering a hand to the Tengu.

The crow man leaped off the bed with the princess’s assistance, they walked to the door, hand in talon. “I understand, he has gone through so much. I do hope you can heal whatever ails him. We all saw the state he was in before. I’m sure that getting up and breathing the sea air will have him right as rain in mere seconds. I love to feel the breeze on my feathers. You should see me out there, circling my nest again and again. I keep a good pace with the Ship as well.”

“I’m sure you do. I’ve heard much about the speed of Tengu,” Diana said cheerfully.

“I must be the fastest flier around!” Coal declared.

“Ah, I will be out on the main deck tomorrow morning, I should like to see that,” she said firmly. She held the door open for him.

“An aerial show for the princess of the Magi, it would be a grand pleasure,” he said, flapping his wings. “Do bring Jonah, I would love to brighten his spirits with my aptitude!”

“I will try, his muscles are recovering though, but we will try,” she assured him. He called one last farewell to Jonah and left.

Jonah spun the feather in his fingers. Why him? He didn’t deserve this. Billions of people should be in front of him. Someone smarter or stronger. Anyone besides him.

Diana sat on the bed in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“I think I remember more about the world you came from,” she said plainly. Her face was calm, eyes gentle in their focus on him.

“Huh?”

“Yes, I do. The Witch believes you are from the world of the Machinist. One of our legendary Heroes. Oh, bother, there’s so much to tell you. I wish there were a spell so my throat doesn’t go dry.” She smirked. “Your mention of its state reminded me of what little is written about the Machinist’s. It’s said he came from a world recovering from the largest war it had since the last one. I always wondered about that. We have had good sized conflicts, but nothing like the Order war before or since. Our Kingdoms are so spread out, no large force could easily get to one another before the creation of airships and decent sized boats.” She gestured to the whole room. “The Machinist wrote, ‘I am glad to be gone from the World War two’s stain, and my country, who caused it.”

“What the hell? This Hero guy was a German in World War two?” he asked, reeling. “How long ago was this?”

“I don’t know his actual origins, only that quote. Took me a while to pluck it from my mind.” She tapped her forehead, as if straining at the effort. “He helped us win the Order war some two hundred years ago. He’s supposed to be still alive, through his magic,” she explained. “Those magically inclined are able to live quite longer than those without. Some of the beings on this ship fought in Order war, our very own World War, hopefully our only.”

Jonah rubbed his head, too much to consider, but he felt a drive to go on. There was a surge of power in his limbs, the mechanical parts, at the mention of this person. One from his own world with powers enough to live an ungodly amount of years.

“They say you have ability like the Machinist,” Diana said in a low voice.

“What?” he asked, sitting up.

Her eyes examined his posture. “Those limbs, according to Stephan, the man that made them, have no internal fuel source. They are run by you alone, your magic…” She pursed her lips as he froze in place. “No, come here, take my hand.” She stood from the bed, beckoning him.

He reached out, but his organic parts stung with pain, the mechanics far too heavy to support. He stumbled backwards, Diana caught him with crossed wrists, lifting him up to lean forward with his legs over the side of the bed. He wheezed at the sudden exertion.

“My mistake, you seemed to be moving effortlessly before,” she said, patting his back. “I apologize, you’ve had so little time to recover. That was bloody stupid.”

“Yeah, a little more time, more than a day,” he said, breathing heavily.

“Of course, take all the time you need, Jonah,” she said. “Stephan told me that normally people with this surgery don’t move for days afterwards. They are stiff as bodies in a coffin…” She audibly winced at that statement, collecting herself. “I’m not sure, but that might explain the man’s hesitance to see you. I would think his bedfellow would alert him you were moving so unexpectedly well. Some priorities she has.”

“Am I moving out of will alone?” Jonah asked, gazing up at her.

“I believed you were,” she said. “You were awfully stiff speaking to Coal. In trying to learn more from me, you were coming closer to where I sat. Am I a better motivator than a small crow man?”

“Yes,” he said. How could he blurt out things like this? Probably because that’s what he was doing, flinging out statements. Part of him didn’t care any more. It would have been too much effort to spill out the overwhelming pain to some stranger or coworker. He had skimmed the surface with people for so long. He had let loose his guts in moments to Kalyah and through Aiko’s ears to Diana. She knew, both his and her own.

She grinned at his fast reply. “Good, we will train slow and steady with you. Now you must help me to practice my own magic,” she said. “It is only fair.”

He sat up, able to move again, setting his hands on his legs. He didn’t want to push it. “Sure, anything I can do for you, I will.” He grinned.

“Alright, this school I must master to capture Blodwyn,” she said, fetching something from the couch. She set the wooden tiara on her head, pushing her hair back with it.

He watched her eagerly.

“Don’t judge, I am not practiced in his field,” she said, truly self conscious.

“I haven't seen much magic, I can’t judge. It’s all amazing. I won’t say anything negative, I promise,” he said excitedly.

“I will try to make this a good first impression,” she said. Closing her eyes, puffs of cottony mists formed and solidified around the tiara, taking its shape. It held as she moved her head about lightly. She looked up, unable to really see it. “Behold, the Crown of Clouds.”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” he laughed. “What does it do?”

“It is the starting point of an entire school of magic for Druids. Giving them access to all that floats in the ether. Dreams, thoughts, and formed items made from what lingers in the minds of man. And I… can barely hold it still without it trying to break apart.” She growled as the Crown started to flicker.

“Try something, um, anything. Make a hand or dog… some kind of cloud shape,” he encouraged, his hands raising in response to his unconscious command. He did his best to ignore them, the self conscious thoughts, to push them out of his mind. The muscles started to ache, then some energy surging back into him. What was it that made them fine one moment and heavy the next? The sap she had given him was meant to dull it, he shouldn’t be hurting. It wasn’t surgery pain, it was the limbs feeling unnatural, all of the sudden.

“Funny you should say that,” Diana said with a mirthless laugh. “The most common shape is a hand. Any long range spell meant to move objects is a hand. All differing in size. A simple, bloody hand, and I can make it, I swear I can.” A cotton ball of mist started to bloom and shrink before her eyes as she stared into the open air.

“You got this, Mage Hand, yeah, the simplest spell there is, everyone can learn it,” he said. He knew this, all he did was try to escape. Dungeons and Dragons was living in another world, he never questioned if his character could do what he told them to do. He was in control. He had loved it so much before his mother passed. She had encouraged him to keep doing it. The keys would fly out of her hands the minute he said he wanted to go to a session. “Go get them, baby, kill those Orcs.” He lived in a world where an Orc was a five star chef or something, he wasn’t sure, he had to see. He couldn’t help unless he moved. “You got it!” he urged.

Diana turned her head up as he stood beside her. “Gods, I didn’t realize you were so tall in that bed,” she said, the Crown dissipating.

He wavered and she caught him. “I can do it, they move, for now,” he said. “I’m just gonna fall over now from being in a two week coma.”

“You silly man, I was going to lift your food bowl to you,” she said, smiling. “That was meant to be my practice.”

“Yeah, that oatmeal is probably cold,” he chuckled as she set him down. Was she that strong or was he that light now?

“You’re lucky that I am far better at the Elemental school,” she said. Snapping her fingers, her hand radiated with an orange glow over the bowl she held. The oatmeal steamed up as she handed it to him.

“Well, I was able to stand,” he said as she shook the spell out of her hand.

“Equally impressive, I’d say. Yours was far more foolhardy though,” she said.

He dug into the warm gruel, weak but too hungry to really stop. There was no way he was being fed again today. He wasn’t going to live like his body was a coffin when he was able to stand. He’d spent enough time trapped, too long.