She finds herself in a bar. Polished wooden tables and comfortable-looking chairs litter the room, plushly-upholstered booths line the walls, and at the other end of the room is a long bar, high-backed stools tucked up close to it. Her attention might be drawn from these details by the large window to the right, however, through which she can see a vast dark space littered with brilliant explosions. 

It might also be drawn by the person sitting at the bar - the only one in the room. His skin is covered by a shifting, flaring golden aura, and from his back extends a pair of enormous gold-tipped brown wings.

He turns to look at her over his shoulder, folding a wing back far enough to get a good look, and offers her a smile, "Hello!" He greets, "Welcome to Milliways. First time here?" 

"Yeah. Normally that door goes to my bedroom." Today is not really a time she's eager to get into chats with magical creatures. Half the time they want her to add something political to her plate, or want to talk about all her mom did in the war, or want to complain about all her mom didn't do.

"That's the usual way to get here, yeah," he assures her. "Alright, I'll give you the overview: Milliways is an interdimensional bar, a place where people from different worlds can meet. So long as you're inside, time won't pass in the world you came from. If you go back out and close the door, it will then lead back to your bedroom again, but you'll also lose access to Milliways unless it decides to steal a door for you again, so you might want to stay a while before you leave."

He pats the bar, "Bar here is a sentient being, she sells food and drinks from any world. The first drink is free." He lifts his own in a toast, revealing a tall clear glass, the deep blue drink inside steaming lightly. 

"Huh."

She opens her door, leaving her (wind up, since electronics get weird around magic) watch on the ground, then going up to Bar to get some confirmation, then wandering back to the door to check that her watch hasn't ticked - it hasn't.

"That's pretty powerful magic."

"Couldn't tell you how it works," he shrugs, "It's not mine, and whoever's in charge here doesn't appreciate little gods poking at their work. Magic varies between worlds, but I'd be surprised if anyone from yours could figure it out, either."

"We can barely figure out how our own magic works, so. Though it's also possible wizards just don't believe in science."

"Eh, I know more about how our magic works than most people back in my world do, and even I couldn't say I really know how it works, at the deepest levels. I think most magic systems are like that - though, if no one's done any systematic poking at yours, I could see it being worse than usual."

"Spell development's pretty slow and there's not much theory for anything, but I also haven't gotten an education in it."

"Lack the opportunity? The interest? Or is it one of those magics that only some people can do?"

"Only some people can do it, and there's politics about this."

"Ah, politics." He snorts. "Haven't had to deal with those in more than passing in a while. I don't envy the Shallow Gods their courts of followers, or anyone else who has to deal with it."

She snorts. "Your world has gods?"

"Yep! I'm one - not a Shallow God, though, a Deep God. Which mostly just means I don't get my power from worshipers. The Wanderer, God of Change, patron of freedom and travelers, at your service," he adds, awkwardly half-bowing from his bar stool, his wings knocking against its back and flaring out slightly. 

"I'm Canan Uzun. Ordinary human. At your service, I guess."

He waves at the rest of the room, "Ordinarily there's more patrons around, but it's just me at the moment. Sit down and have a drink?" He suggests, "I've been to dozens of worlds, but I never say no to hearing about a new one." 

"Sure."

She goes up and asks for a drink, whatever Bar recommends. It's surprisingly delicious.

"Not super sure where to start."

"I hate to suggest it, but how about those politics? Some people can use your magic and some people can't - I've seen or heard about that sort of thing going wrong in all sorts of interesting and terrible ways."

"Yeah. It's pretty fundamental to a lot - so our world's got muggles, humans who can't use magic, and wizards, humans who can, if you ask most wizards, plus magical creatures. Magical creatures are often sapient but are classified as beasts anyways. Being able to use magic's usually hereditary, but sometimes you get muggleborns - wizards with muggle parents - or squibs - muggles with wizard parents. A couple centuries ago the wizarding nations got together and agreed to wall themselves off from muggles, and to enforce this on magical creatures and wizarding nations not party to their treaties. It's called the Statute of Secrecy. Muggles who learn about magic for reasons other than having an immediate relative who can use magic have their memories altered, and wizards aren't allowed to use magic around muggles - this varies in how it's enforced. Sometimes the penalty on the offending wizard's pretty small. Muggles don't really have rights in wizarding law, though they have their own governments. Basically the protection for muggles is just the 'don't use magic' restriction and that most wizards suck at non-magical anything. Squibs don't really get these protections, and you get cases of magicless kids dying when their family tries to force them to use magic accidentally. Wizards refuse to use muggle technology a lot, because they don't like things muggles produce, and there's blood purists who hate muggles and muggleborns. Those're mostly isolationists, nowadays, wanting wizards to rule muggles fell out of vogue a few years before I was born."

"Wow. That does sound like a sticky problem. Children falling through the cracks, memory alteration," he shudders. He might be a god of change, but choice is important to him, as well. "And you are... a non-magical person who is aware of magic." A 'squib' or the close relative of a 'muggleborn', likely.

"What happened to turn the 'blood purists' from would-be-conquerors to isolationists?" 

"I'm a squib, yeah. And they had a pretty influential leader who roused them from the isolationists' kids who were frustrated at being limited by the Statute into a more militant crowd. Two wars later, the leader'd been pretty resoundly beaten, had nearly destroyed British wizarding society, and had dragged his most ardent followers down with him. The kids of the militants mostly went back to their grandparents' isolation, far as I can tell."

"Hm," he focuses on her for a moment, aura flaring just a touch, and then sits back, eyeing her thoughtfully. "There's a lot of change about you, but... it's shackled," he notes.

"Dunno what that means."

"I can sense people's... desire for and potential for change. Part of being a god - the Shallow Gods use it to determine who would make the best followers. You're full of desire, but your potential is limited."

"Guess that's true. Keep trying and failing to get stuff changed."

"I might be able to help - a little bit, or a lot, depending on how the cards fall. I could grant you a Boon, if you'd like - an object with a magical effect, tied to the person I grant it to. The effects are always related to change, and they're always something you will find useful in the near future."