Niko landed gracefully in the forest clearing. As gracefully as someone with a cranky knee could anyways. This wasn’t his first rodeo as the kids would say.
Professor Katsaros had at least one thing going for him on this little rescue mission. Both he and the painting’s new occupant manifest as satyrs.
It was odd crossing over in the early evening like this though. Normally it took his eyes a few minutes to adjust to the night’s low light. He rarely got to see himself “painted” into this new reality. Niko long since given up on trying to undress before the changes over took him. The magic took care of everything anyways. He always liked to imagine some disembodied tailor shaking his head at him. ”A baggy lecture jacket on a satyr? Good heaves no!” The sleeves of his garment were already shrinking back.
“Come on baby, give me some hair...!” Niko rubbed his scalp. He’d started balding years ago. If he was going to grow a coat of goat fur, the least this place could do was give him some proper hair.
Instead his cheeks started to tingle. Niko felt a fine coaxing of fuzz starting to grow out on his chin and sideburns. Huh, this was new. The painting was giving him a full beard this time around.
He ran his hand along his chin for a moment to feel it fill out. Then he got the distinct sensation of his ears flickering. Niko reached up just in time to feel genuine fur grow out on the back of his ears. They grew into a point, stretched out further and further, then finally came to rest as a full pair of goat ears.
The arms of his glasses shifted to accommodate his new ears, but they otherwise stayed the same. They hadn’t shifted back fully after his visit into the painting last semester. He adjusted them subtly then felt something odd.
Niko slide his fingers further up his head. His fingers brushed up against his thinning hair before the white strands of hair fell out completely.
“Baah, hey!” He rubbed the side of his head. “That better grow back!”
Hmpf. Honestly he probably should have trimmed those lingering bits off ages ago. At least now it would look like a stylistic choice. Maybe he’d give it a try back on... back on...
Woah. Niko felt the telltale pressure in his head. He was close to sprouting horns. He took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the sensation. He tried not to focus on two black stubs bursting out of his head. He tried not to focus on the fact that part of his skull was growing out. He tried not to focus on-
“Baah that smarts!” Niko rubbed his horns in frustration. He never got used to that!
He stepped a bit further out from the tree. Deep breaths. The sensation passed just as quickly as it had arrived. Niko glanced down at himself to see the rest of his changes.
His jacket was simply gone at this point. Hmm, what would happen to his blue button up shirt? Probably a vest.
Instead of his shirt changing, Niko saw the lanyard around his neck start to glow. It wasn’t the most fashionable statement he made on a daily basis, but it was better than losing his university ID. The black nylon strap started clumping up in an unusual way. I took him a moment to realize it was shifting into a string of wooden beads.
One bead for each house in the village. Every satyr took a small notch out of their front door when they formally joined their settlement. The village elder was responsible for the well being of his flock. He kept a small reminder of each member of his herd with him wherever he went.
Niko’s plastic ID shimmered. The card shrank in size before taking on a worn silver finish. A small medallion formed at the base of the necklace. It was simple in construction and design, but was no less a signifier of Niko’s identity. This artifact has been passed down throughout generations of village elders.
Elder Katsaros gasped. He clutched the necklace around his neck as the importance of the artifact burrowed into his subconscious. The painting tried to find a place for everyone in this new realm. You didn’t simply grow fur when you appeared on the other side. You’d get painted into a specific role in this new world. Niko had always come to study this strange world and the art within. He had always manifest as some satyric scholar with a notebook tucked under his arm. Apparently his current mindset of finding a lost student had given him a paternal role.
Either that or the painting was trying to butter him up with some new status.
“Baah, I get it, you want me to stay,” Niko caught his breath. His shirt shrank underneath the necklace.
He was sure it was about to lose its sleeves when the garment up and vanished entirely. Baah! This was always the awkward part of his change. His satyr sensibilities hadn’t kicked in just yet. Niko rubbed his stomach bashfully as the magic washed over him.
He wasn’t in the best shape. He had the life of a book worm back home. Here he was getting painted with a fresh tan at least. The white hair on his chest grew in length, becoming a bit more noticeable against his darker skin.
His pant legs were shortening. Niko looked down just in time to watch his shoes vanish. Baah! His hooves were back! He gave them an experimental clop. He never quite got over the feeling of these things. They certainly beat the loafers he wore around the department.
Thick white goat fur had grown in around his ankles. Niko stared as the fur grew up his legs in time with his vanishing pants. As the material got closer towards his waist, he realized he wasn’t seeing any of the telltale flaps of a loin cloth.
“Woah, hey now, I can’t expose myself in front of my students...!” Niko stammered. “Loin cloth please...!”
He felt a tail curl out behind him. The flickering little appendage wagged in sync with his suddenly bashful mood. His pants had fully vanished at this point. Niko clutched his briefs in a desperate attempt to maintain some sense of priority.
The nylon wait band shifted into a thin draw string. The material on the underwear vanished save for a small gray flap between his legs. It barely obscured the suggestive white pouch beneath it.
Niko’s face was a deep red.
“Oh baah, I’m not sure if that’s any better,” Niko squirmed on his hooves.
The short little satyr clopped awkwardly towards the creek to get a look at himself. The hooves themselves weren’t awkward. He had long since learned how to walk on them. This was just a bit more revealing than he remembered.
“Relax Niko... You’re a satyr. Satyrs are frivolous creatures. No one will find this strange.” He ran his fingers through the fur on his legs. “Just.. think like a satyr.”
Niko took a deep long breath. He closed his eyes and started to relax.
-----
Back in the classroom, the painting shifted once more. An older white furred satyr now joined the other three. The pan flute player was simply holding onto his instrument now, the deer satyress was laid back on the grass, and the fishersatyr had taken a break from his activities. They all gathered around the elder satyr as he gestured with his hands and regaled the group some sort of story. If you looked closely enough, the white satyr’s paint was damp and freshly applied.
A small breeze passed through the empty classroom. In his haste to jump into the painting, Niko may have forgotten to close the door.