Ian blinked.
"What?" Of all the things he'd been expecting, that...made sense, actually. It would explain the sudden and inexplicable change in his surroundings, the oddness of the air and the height of the sun in the sky... it had been just after noon when they'd departed, and now it seemed more evening time, with the sun low in the west. A couple more hours of daylight, at best. "I... I see," Ian said, struggling to come up with a coherent train of thought.
"Oh. You took that quite well," Ophelia remarked, glancing towards Marisa with a tinge of worry. Marisa's smirk only grew deeper. "He's in shock. Give him a second to realize just how badly you've screwed him over," she stage-whispered in delight. Ophelia dipped her head in defeat.
"Okay. Let me start from the beginning. Marisa and I are witches, as I already said. Magic exists, and its roots are in Otherworld, the realm where we currently reside. Otherworld is connected to Aboveworld, what you know as Earth, through a number of passageways in caves, alleyways, forests...it is the other half of the physical world, one that most normal people know nothing about. "
"Except that I do, now," Ian pointed out, dread creeping down his spine.
"Indeed. I am getting to that. The people who live in Otherworld know much of Aboveworld. They know of their wars, their hatred, the danger they could pose if they were ever to know of us and our existence. To the people of Otherworld, you are a nightmare. A bedtime story to frighten children. Most of the denizens of this realm cannot pass for human. Goblins, orcs, merpeople, driders, fae folk and more. We witches are lucky in that way. We can pass, and interact with Aboveworld, even integrate with it. It is a rare privilege, trust me. Sometimes, there are things in Aboveworld that we cannot get in Otherworld. Things of great importance, or simply things that the people here dearly desire, like access to your internet, or certain kinds of animals. We cannot simply transmute these things from objects originating in Otherworld, so we have to acquire them by other means,
"That's where we come in. We are a special breed of witches. Gatherers. We find people who need things in Otherworld, and we find a way to get them from Aboveworld."
"And I'm a thing from Aboveworld," Ian mumbled in numb realization.
Marisa cackled. "Of course you are. You're one of our most requested items. Or...at least, a part of you is. The other part is useless. A human body with a great life, a premium education, and a whole future ahead of you. The only thing we don't need is... well, you."
Ian gaped, terror thrilling through his veins. They were going to kill him!
Ophelia waved her hands. "No, no, we are *not* going to kill you! Absolutely not! That is entirely inhumane. Other Gatherers might not care about what happens to the souls of the humans they use in the exchange, but we do. Or... I do."
Marisa rolled her eyes. "You're too soft, Ophie. Why do you even participate in this business if you have this many qualms about it."
"Because, I *care* about our people. You only care about hurting Aboveworlders."
Marisa wrinkled her nose and then shrugged. "That's fair. But only because its so much fun to see them squirm."
"You're hopeless, cousin. Anyway, Ian, my family has a process. We run this business fairly. We might have a backlog of requests and a shortage of available bodies from Aboveworld, but we will not throw away your soul, I promise. We'll do our best to ensure that you have some quality of life in your new body."
"New...body?" Ian mumbled, barely aware of anything but the pounding in his ears.
"Yes. There are dozens of people in Otherworld looking to escape their lives. Whether that's because things have gone poorly for them in their own lives or because they simply want to experience the joys and wonders of Aboveworld for themselves. Well, you will see. Come along, Ian. You have potentials to meet," Ophelia said, extending a hand towards Ian. Ian stared at her hand for a long while. She'd betrayed him, completely and utterly, and now she was telling him his body wouldn't even belong to him in a few hours? What...what was this? Who even was she? Not the Ophelia he knew and had grown to care about. He wanted to turn and run, but a strange compulsion in his mind urged him to take her hand. He tried to resist, but the compulsion only grew more insistent, until he was once again hand-in-hand with Ophelia.
They continued down the alleyway, emerging in a bustling town center. True to her word, there were all sorts of strange creatures clambering and flitting about. Short, squat goblins that barely came up to his thigh. Tall, proud centuars clopping through the streets in tunics and little else. Tiny fairies zooming about on their gossamer-thin wings. It was like something out of a fairy tale... if the fairy tale was grim enough to include black market organ dealers. Because that was essentially what Ophelia and Marisa were. Only, the organ was his entire body, sans his soul.
Ian felt ice cold as he watched the mystical creatures vie for a glance at the stranger among them. A few of the younger ones ran in fear, or else hid behind the legs of their parents as he passed them by. Were humans really that scary to these people? These people who had easy access to magic and a whole world of strange, arcane sensations at their fingertips? He supposed they weren't all that strange and new to them. No, here, he was the alien.
Ophelia and Marisa marched him down a few more streets, past a growing crowd of dozens and dozens of races of mystical beings, including what appeared to be a number of elves, tall and elegant with pointed ears and golden skin. He wondered idly if Tolkien had ever stumbled into Otherworld in his lifetime, if the reality had inspired his fantasy. It didn't seem likely, but you never knew.
Eventually, they came to a stout, well-appointed building about three stories tall. It was made from ornate marble carved into flowing, organic patterns that seemed to emulate the ebb and flow of a waterfall, crashing down from the very top. Large letters made to emulate the texture of river rocks stood above the wooden double doors of the entrance, spelling out "LaVelle's Exchange." Ian shivered. He felt as if he were marching off to his execution. Maybe he was. Even if they did put him in whatever leftover body they had, he'd never have his own life. He'd never see Nick or Martin or his father or mother ever again.
They marched on through. The lobby was filled with people of all shapes, sizes and descriptions. From the smallest gnome right on up to the tallest orc, they were all waiting in line to get things from Aboveworld. But the hungry look in their eyes told him everything he needed to know. Compared to a human life, all these gadgets and knick-knacks were nothing. He was their ultimate prize.
"Oh god," he whispered. Marisa leaned in, "Your god holds no weight here. Here, we sit at the foundation. And your body will go to good use, don't worry. You might even enjoy one of our client's leftovers. Come on, we're a floor down." With a firm hand on his shoulder, she and Ophelia guided him down a set of steps and into a far less opulent part of the building. This seemed like a place where people lived. Somewhere between a dorm and a hotel. Pleasant enough to stay in while you were waiting for a new body and a new life.
"Okay, we're gonna shop you around a bit. Show you off to a few clients, see what they think. If any of them connect with you, that's a good sign and you'll probably do the exchange with them. Alright, lets start off with door number one. She just got in recently. Doesn't have a lot of money, but she is desperate, and we do consider that here in the exchange," Marisa exposited.
Ophelia flashed Ian one more guilty glance before knocking on the door. "Umleena, it's us! We've got a potential!" The door swung open immediately, to reveal...a well-furnished room? Oh, no, wait a moment, she was actually a goblin. Maybe three feet tall, if that. Long, dark green hair done up in a bun, 12-inch long ears that looked like daggers, and big, yellow eyes. She was pretty for a goblin, he supposed. Maybe around his age, although these things were hard to tell. And...she was pregnant. Massively, hugely pregnant. Her belly was swollen beneath the simple grey maternity dress she wore beneath her brown leather vest.
"Oh, god."
The goblin...Umleena, Ophelia had called her, blinked hopefully up at him. "Humie gonna be my new body? Humie looks good. Mmm, real good. Muscles and tallness, yess...that gonna be nice!"
"Umleena, before we get too carried away, why don't you tell him your story?"
The goblin girl blinked. "What the point?" At Ophelia's urging stare, she relented. "Okay, okay. My name Umleena. I goblin, you can see, Humie. Standard for goblin different than humie. Goblin no treat us girl well. Many try to change this. My clan not one of them. They force me into broodmother role. Soon as give birth, they take me back to clan and force me to spend rest of my life producing more clan members. Not a bad life for some, hear birth pleasurable, but I want make my own way. Want to explore, see aboveworld. You my only chance," she admitted.
Ian was aghast. "And you want me to choose this?" He asked Ophelia. Marisa chuckled darkly. "Your opinion doesn't really factor into this, 'Bovie. It's up to Umleena." She turned to the goblin woman, who was practically sparkling with excitement. "You sure you want this one? He's young, he's well educated...only trouble is, he's a he. Is that a dealbreaker?"
Ian crossed his fingers and prayed to everything that she would say no, that his maleness would be enough to turn her away. He couldn't imagine a worse fate than this. Trapped in some fantasy world forever, unable to return to humanity and the world without scaring everyone away or getting killed. And then, being some broodmother whose only purpose in life was to pop out baby after baby for the sake of some clan he didn't even know? Please...anything but this. There had to be some better options in the hallway.
Umleena opened up her mouth and said,