A seasoned healer from a realm steeped in magic meets his demise, only to be reborn on a planet where the arcane arts have faded into distant memory. He leads an ordinary life, using his knowledge and skills to aid others. However, the world is abru...
"Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz." The insistent buzzing vibrated from within the pocket of my trousers, the same ones I hadn't managed to shed before my consciousness surrendered to Morpheus' embrace the night before.
"Just a little longer, please. Let me sleep. I was having such a wonderful dream. Ugh," I mumbled sleepily, yawning. "Joe, may Pazuzu haunt your dreams. Not only did you keep me up all night, but your clients are bothering me in the morning too."
The sun peeked through the blinds, painting whimsical patterns on the wall. The smell of coffee and fried bacon faintly tickled my nostrils. But all this paled in comparison to the desire to sink back into the warm cocoon of sleep.
My roommate, Jonathan McGuire, or simply Joe as we called him, was a real hurricane that burst into our measured student life at the beginning of this academic year. Having come to us on an exchange program from some American college, he turned our modest dorm room into the epicenter of parties and adventures from day one.
Tall, athletic, with tanned skin, blue eyes, and luxurious brown hair, Joe attracted girls' gazes like a magnet. He had a Hollywood smile and charisma that none of my classmates could resist. Moreover, this Casanova was the life of the party, always ready for jokes, pranks, and crazy ideas.
Yesterday, for example, we celebrated his birthday. And this rascal tried to get me drunk! Can you imagine, the naive guy thought that if I don't drink, then a couple of shots of whiskey and a mug of moonshine would knock me off my feet. He himself only sipped, smiling slyly. Oh, if he only knew that alcohol doesn't affect me, he wouldn't be so happy when I, "faint", sang "Oh, in the meadow" with him. Well, I like to joke, I just need to remember to post this video on YouTube, I think it will become a real hit among his fans.
It's never boring with McGuire, although sometimes his hyperactivity and thirst for adventure cause headaches not only for me but also for our entire course. But despite all his antics, he is a kind and sincere guy, always ready to help. And, importantly, he has an amazing ability to find wealthy clients for my small practice of manual therapy.
Where does he even find them? I wish they didn't call so early. But they can be understood: when you are tormented by pain, you will call everyone in a row. Okay, I'm getting up, time is money. And today - quite a lot of money.
I got out of bed and stretched, feeling my joints crack. A quick glance at the clock – time is running out. Today for breakfast, scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. Fast and nutritious.
Joe was already bustling in the kitchen, humming something to himself and tossing pancakes in the air.
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"Good morning, sunshine! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I smiled, starting to cook the eggs.
"Oh, dude, it was an epic night! But why did you drink so little? I tried for you, I got the best moonshine!" Joe clutched his heart theatrically, feigning offense.
