Jon managed quite well at not being overwhelmed. He only had to keep his eyes on the pages below and not everyone staring. Easy.
Ocean Point: On the Medieval Origins of a Modern Kingdom
A Review of Ocean Point’s Fey-Touched Ecosystems
The Novice's Handbook to Arcane Theory
These were the library books he’d opened first, chosen arbitrarily from the curated piles at his table. They were fascinating. Detailed accounts of a legitimate fantasy world, with the sort of depth and intensity you could rarely find in fictional writing. And, a good portion of it mirrored the Lake Point he knew. Major dates lined up, important figures had close-enough names, and the infrastructure had developed with a near-identical logic.
Only two major differences. The magic and his family.
Magic is a resource to be respected, not squandered. In its capacity to shape the very reality around us, it demands tribute from the caster. It is a slow process, starting with changes in eye color, slight alterations to physical features…
“More tea, Princess?”
Jon pulled away from the handbook on magic, once again remembering his own place in this world. Before him, a young maid with a teapot. She was one of several who insisted on facilitating his trip to the library, the others bustling about for more books to add to his piles. They wore identical dark dresses with white trimming.
He frowned. Like Jon, their outfits were short and flowy. Summery. A stark contrast to the men’s uniforms on the guards and butlers nearby. They wore nice suits and elegant button downs, well-tailored but free from all the revealing, beach-flavored playfulness.
No one else had silvery eyes or pointed ears.
“…Princess?”
“Ah, uh, yes, more tea would be delightful,” he said, allowing Princess Jeanne’s impulses to ease out—just enough to play the character. “Pray tell, are all these guards truly necessary?”
“Why, of course Princess!” The maid cheerily poured Jon a cup before continuing. “The fairies broke from their enclosure, after all. Your safety is of the utmost importance.”
Fairies. Seriously. Could they really be that bad?
The maid noticed Jon’s skepticism and gave a smile. “You’re not in real danger, Princess. Just, well… You know how the little devils can be. How it took months to undo their last escapade’s fallout.”
“...Yes, of course,” Jon lied. “A veritable challenge, if I recall.”
“Though in all honesty, I find it unlikely they’ll even make it this far! Always caught by the second floor and all that. Nothing to fret over.”
He brought the tea to his lips, pretty eyes surveying the scene around him. Like the content of his books, the library was a thing of fantasy. A grand, rustic space with stately staircases winding above and below, each floor an interior balcony to the previous. It smelled of sage and mahogany.
Jon noted the librarians dashing about—again, the women in light, free-flowing dresses, the men in more courtly attires—then the guards nearby. On one of their shoulders, a tiny yellow silhouette. Four inches tall, feminine features, and… Dragonfly wings? It sat there for several moments, unnoticed by the guards, before announcing its presence with a loud, chime-like voice.
“Boring, boring, boring! All this room to play, and you humans choose to stand around and do nothing? Boring!”
The guard yelped as the yellow fairy floated upwards, just out of reach. A pink fairy peeked over from a high-up bookshelf. “Oh hush, Marigold. It’s not the humans’ fault they’re so drab. Maybe they like standing around and doing nothing.”
The yellow fairy, Marigold, contemplated the notion, unconcerned at the guards readying their weapons or the maids backing away. “You really think so, Primrose?”
She flashed a golden light. An instant later, the guards were statues, frozen in place and made of… Red and white peppermint?
Jon went pale. Several maids squeaked in surprise.
“Oh, relax! They’ll be back to their boring ol’ selves in a week or so. Probably,” said Marigold, before turning to the pink fairy. “They didn’t like that at all.”
Primrose shook her head. “Guess I was wrong… Ooh, the ones in black dresses are running! Change them next!”
A second burst of golden light. The maid at Jon’s table, the one with the tea pot, yelped as her clothes flew right off. Just as quickly—before she could even cover herself—her breasts and hips exploded in size, her facial features easing from cute girl next door to absolute bombshell.
“Princess, Princess, you must…” The maid slammed a dainty hand to her mouth. She did not speak the words. She sang them. Loudly, beautifully, and quite involuntarily.
The changes weren’t finished. Her hair turned a navy blue, just as her legs jerked together and shifted to a shimmering tail of the same color, tapered with a delicate, glass-like fin. She heaved against the table in a desperate attempt to stay up.
Hide, the maid-turned-mermaid mouthed.
Jon ducked under his desk, barely registering the other new mermaids dropping around him, just as stunning and vibrantly colored as the first. He held his breath.
“Ya know,” said Marigold. “I was thinking we needed more saltwater mermaids in the area. It’s too quiet without them.”
“They do have the prettiest songs,” said Primrose. “Wait, water. Mermaids need that to swim, right?”
A pink flash this time, and the mermaids were suddenly gone. Somehow, Jon held his breath even harder. How the heck was this not ‘real danger!?’ It was—
He gasped. A third fairy was under the table with him, less than a foot away. Deep purple, an adorable floral dress that blossomed at her knees, and butterfly wings that curved with patterns like some art nouveau. She was pretty in the same way Jon was pretty, with sylvan features and curves that bordered on unreasonable.
She looked every bit as disoriented as Jon.
Despite himself, he inched closer. Something about the purple fairy was just so… Wait. No. It couldn’t be.
“Athena!?” He realized. “Athena DeVries?”
A beat. The fairy gave him a stunned look, caught between her own feelings of realization and confusion. “Zoe? No, you’re… Jon!? You remember the old reality?”
