Gomer crept up the winding stairs of the tower, following close behind his master -- he dare not do otherwise. The Skyward Tower of Grand Magus Malthus Erestris, Gomer's mentor, had many stairs, and it was easy to become lost upon them. If one was so foolish as to assume that negotiating these steps was as simple as walking up them to descend, and down them to descend, for example, they would almost certainly be lost upon those stairs forever.

Despite his trepidation at having to tread the impossible spiral staircase at the heart of the wizard's tower, Gomer was excited. He had always wondered where his master had learned the secrets of magic, and his master had always avoided the question. Until tonight, that is, when he had roused Gomer from a sound sleep, and told him they were off to converse with his master's master.

Malthus suddenly halted on the steps, then stepped back down. Gomer, having walked the perilous stairs with his master before, automatically copied the wizard's movements. Up a step, back down a step, up half a step and then back again, they went along the staircase, making dozens of seemingly random movements that appeared to take them nowhere.

And yet, after several minutes of this precarious dance, they somehow emerged onto the top of the tower, where Malthus Erestris' menagerie of birds slumbered in their spacious sheltered aviary.

"He's meeting us here?" Gomer asked, eagerly.

"He's always here." The old wizard replied. "But he's only customarily awake at night."

Gomer frowned, scanning the aviary. He'd been there on other occasions, and never seen anyone. Was the wizard invisible?

A few birds were in coops or cages, but the majority rested on open perches, either ensorcelled to remain in the tower, or simply inclined to do so for one reason or another. Malthus led his student over to a wooden perch stand, where a smallish white-faced owl sat, its large bright eyes half closed.

"And here we are." Malthus announced, gesturing to the owl. "Grand Magus Emeritus Agramor -- my venerable instructor."

Gomer looked from his master to the owl. It was, of course, possible for powerful wizards to turn themselves into birds or other creatures, but Gomer was quite certain he'd seen this particular owl before, when tasked to clean the aviary, and it had given no signs of being anything other than a bird. Deciding it was best to err on the side of caution, and assume his master was neither fully insane nor playing a prank on him, Gomer bowed to the owl.

"Master Agramor." he greeted the bird, respectfully.

Despite being prepared for the possibility, he was still startled with the bird replied almost instantly.

"Young Gomer!" the bird said, "I am given to understand that you're an idiot."

Malthus nodded in agreement.

Gomer blinked. "Uh..." He struggled with many of the more esoteric aspects of magic, but he'd thought his training was going fairly well.

"Uh indeed! Yes, you're clearly quite thick-headed. But don't worry, I'd be more concerned if you weren't a fool, at your age. No one's fit to be wise until they've put in a good few years as a moron." Agramor the owl opined, sagely. He cocked his head to the side. "Why are you staring, boy? Ah! I see. My disguise, is it?"

"Yes sir," Gomer admitted. "Master Malthus has taught me some about transmutation, but..."

"No worries, no worries." Agramor said, waving a wing dismissively. "I'll dismiss the spell, if it'll make things easier for you."

With a mystical gesture of his wing tips and a softly hooted invocation, Agramor dispelled the illusion surrounding him...revealing a tiny, pointed hat atop his feathery head.

"There we are. The real me." Agramor proclaimed.

"You're an owl all the time, sir?" Gomer asked, incredulously.

"He's retired." Malthus explained.

"Semi-retired." Agramor corrected, testily. "But yes."

"You retired...to being an owl?" Gomer said, hesitantly.

"Of course. How else do you retire?" Agramor said.

"To a house on the beach?" Gomer suggested. "A quiet country manor?"

Agramor snorted. "Mundane! Common merchants and craftsmen with money to spare might do that: go someplace nice, be waited on by servants, and do what they like -- they live carefree as a child."

"But you...didn't want to be carefree?"

"Of course I did!" Agramor snapped. "But children aren't nearly carefree enough: they're always worrying about who's going to play the knight and who's the dragon, having to eat vegetables, or getting sent to bed just after dusk. Who needs that sort of aggravation? Owls are much more liberated -- I sleep all day, eat the odd mouse, and that's all I have to worry about, full stop. Besides, children have a sort of native wisdom and insight, and I was damned tired of being wise and insightful all the time."

"But...aren't owls wise?" Gomer asked, confused.

"Owls are a symbol of wisdom." Malthus corrected.

"Exactly!" Agramor agreed. "The word 'wisdom' is also a symbol of wisdom, but try writing 'wisdom' out on a sheet of parchment, and then ask the parchment for advice and see how far you get."

"Ordinary owls are actually fairly dim, as birds go." Malthus added.

An awkward silence hung in the air after that, before finally being broken by the old wizard.

"Ah! Right. I brought you here for a reason," Malthus said, snapping his fingers. "Magus Agramor mentioned he had something important to tell me, and that I should bring my apprentice along."

"Oh?" Gomer said, perking up excitedly.

"Yes, yes." Agramor said impatiently. "Don't get yourself all in a tizzy, it's nothing that important."

Gomer deflated slightly. "Oh. Well, what is it, sir?"

"I've had a prophetic vision," the owl explained. "The world's going to end in a year or so." He gestured to Gomer with a wing. "Seems like you're the only one who can stop it."

Malthus nodded thoughtfully.

"What?" Gomer cried. "How is the world going to end? How can I stop it?"

Agramar shrugged. "How the hell should I know, boy? I'm just an owl! And we've been jabbering here for so long that I've used up all my 'semi' -- all I've got left is 'retired'."

The owl made another gesture with his wing, and the tiny mage's hat vanished from his head. Without another word, he took to the air, and flew off into the night.

Malthus smiled, and clapped Gomer on the shoulder.

"Well, I'm glad you two finally met. Breakfast, then?"