Suddenly making a nerdy college girl into a sexy, nearly three-hundred year-old Kitsune made me realize just how far this book could change things. It wasn’t just able to change the here and now, it could change the past, too. That was some potent stuff. The kind of power would have had even the protagonists of the dozens of young adult fantasy novels I’d read feeling uneasy.
But I knew who I was. I knew I wouldn’t abuse this power. And sure, Brenda was a lot older now, maybe Natalie was, too, but I hadn’t done anything to hurt them. While I don’t know a lot about them, I’d say I probably improved their lives. Not everyone gets to say they can shapeshift, or do magic. I hadn’t even given myself power like that. On the off chance that they don’t like it, I Would just write down that they were both human again, and nobody’d be the wiser.
I told myself that I’d undo everything but the first change I’d made either right before bed, or in the morning before class, and then bury the book so that nobody else could ever be tempted to misuse it. Until then, what was the harm in indulging a few fantasies?
And speaking of fantasies, maybe I could spice up this old building, too.
I got out my pen, and started to write, once again leaving space between critical words to undo this later.
“The Gilbert Center is West River University’s name for a great, three-story, hollowed-out tree, large enough to comfortably hold over a hundred students, with side rooms that are bigger than should be possible if measured from outside. It was planted by fairies before the founding of the college, who used it as a home before they vanished over a hundred years ago, (though with a promise to return, someday). Enchantments on the center keep it at a comfortable temperature all year long, and crystals inside it glow brightly to keep it well lit. It is well-furnished, and is generally used by some of the campus’s geekier students, and (once-thought) mythical creatures, as a meeting spot.”
I paused, and then thought of one more fun little idea, to let me spread the fun around better.
“Another enchantment on the center causes students to be more open about their secret fantasies if asked, if said fantasies wouldn’t hurt them or others. This enchantment also makes students who enter the building less likely to judge others for their fantasies, and unwilling to spread other people’s fantasies around unless the other person is okay with that. This enchantment isn’t known by most people.”
I watched as the page glowed, and then the whole building followed. Drab white tile and walls changed to earthy brown wood, solid and sturdy, while the ceiling lights shifted into crystals that emitted a yellow glow, bright enough to read by. Little mushrooms and leaves decorated the walls, and carvings of fairies, and other magical creatures, playing or practicing magic etched themselves into the woodwork here and there. Doors and windows became rounder, and furniture within shifted into wood regardless of its original materials, often looking as if it had grown straight from the tree itself, with chairs and sofas sporting soft flowery cushions. I saw a set of spiral stairs forming in the corner of the main room, and new memories of this place popped into my head, recalling the lush greenery visible from outside, looking over the Campus’s main courtyard through the third-story windows, studying or chatting with other students in the side-rooms.
I loved this. But there was still one thing missing: an actual fairy or two.
I turned my eyes to the card game players.
“Richard Abner and Gary Jensen are a pair of young fairies attending West River University, and the first fairies seen by humans in years, residing in the Gilbert Center. They’re mischievous friends who enjoy competing with each other, both in human games, and in fairy prank wars, which sometimes have transformative results on those caught in the middle. They also consider me a friend, understand what kinds of pranks I do, and do not want to experience, and are careful not to prank me, my friends, or my family, in ways that I wouldn’t like unless their magic altered me to like it.”
You always had to be very precise when talking to fairies.
The page glowed once again, and the two boys were bathed in its light. They both dropped their cards, their bodies slowly but steadily becoming smaller and smaller, the table rising higher and higher above them. Their shoes and socks vanished, while their shirts and pants took a green, leafy tint, before splitting into plant skirts, their belts becoming blades of grass tied in a knot in the front. From their backs, four shiny dragonfly wings stretched out from each of their backs, with which they flew back to the top of the table, where their cards were already shrinking to match their new size. Little insect antennae sprouted up from their hair as well, while their ears got longer and pointier.
As the change ended, Gary let out a cry of “I won,” while Richard let out a groan.
Gary grinned and crossed his arms. “That means I decide which prank we go for next.”
“Can I at least pick who it’s done to?” Richard pleaded.
“Hey, we agreed before the game, the winner takes all. Now pack up your cards, and let’s go!”
Yeah one quickly grabbed their cards, slipping them into little satchels, before flying out of the building, the doors automatically opening for them.
I watched as they went, then looked back to my new snake-man servant, and to the last remaining student here, the guy with the sketchpad. What to do, I thought to myself. Follow the pranksters, and see what they’re up to? Take advantage of that new enchantment to ask the sketchpad guy what he’d like, and give it to him? Ask Flynn what sort of things he fantasizes about, for a little inspiration? Or take this to another part of the campus altogether?