Loki, as jubilant as ever with his little theater of transformations and challenges, clapped his hands. A violet flash crackled above their heads, dissipating the last remnants of the previous game. The boys of the winning team, including Matthias, still buzzing with adrenaline, remained grouped together, eager. Matthias, in particular, felt a growing addiction to these trials: the mix of competition, physical transformation, and mystical rewards was exhilarating.
Loki, beaming, declared:
— "Very well! Let’s see who among you not only has reactive muscles but also nerves of steel. Next game: Blind Man’s Buff. A classic, but always delightful."
He conjured a long, silky black blindfold between his fingers.
— "For those who don’t know the rules, here’s how it works: one player, eyes blindfolded, is designated as the seeker. The other players must avoid being caught. No cheating: no excessive shoving, no wild running... It’s not a sprint, it’s a dance of evasion. The last player not captured wins."
He turned to the group.
— "Of course, the more the merrier. So..."
With a fluid gesture, he invited five more young men to join, pointing them out in a burst of light. All dressed in the same tuxedos as the existing players, they seemed a bit surprised to be summoned in this way but quickly fell into line. The number of participants thus grew to ten.
— "And for the seeker..."
He waved his hand, and a young girl appeared in the center of the circle. She wore a simple summer dress and flat sandals. Clearly uncomfortable with the boys’ formal tuxedos, she looked around uncertainly. Loki blinked, feigning indignation.
— "Oh no, no, no… You can’t start like that. Refinement calls for refinement. And I’m all for fairness."
He snapped his fingers.
A warm gust of air enveloped her immediately, and her body subtly transformed. Her hips rounded slightly, her waist tightened, her chest grew fuller in an elegant proportion, while her posture straightened, becoming more assured. A ball gown materialized around her: a deep navy-blue corset, a voluminous skirt with multiple layers of tulle, and white gloves up to her elbows. Her hair, cascading down her shoulders, was styled into a crown of braids. She blushed, staring at herself in disbelief.
Loki gave a satisfied nod.
— "There! A real seeker, worthy of the name."
Then, in a more solemn tone:
— "This time, there will also be a penalty for the losers… but we’ll talk about that later."
The music faded. Silence fell.
The girl, her eyes now blindfolded, was placed at the center of a large circle drawn on the ground by golden light. The boys took their positions around her, each at equal distance. Loki raised his hand.
— "Let the game begin."
She stretched her arms and began to move slowly, hesitating with each step. The boys, graceful and precise, moved silently, avoiding brushing against her gown. The gown, in turn, rustled softly with each movement of the seeker, adding an almost theatrical dimension to the game.
Minutes passed. She narrowly missed one boy — who held his breath as she passed within an inch. But soon, a small cry betrayed a slow movement. She leapt, grabbing the arm of one boy: caught. One down.
Loki marked an invisible point in the air and shrank the circle with a flick of his finger.
The pace quickened. The boys became more strategic: some stood still, hoping to be overlooked, while others circled around the seeker to disorient her. Matthias, for his part, fully utilized his newfound agility. He moved gracefully, fluid as a shadow, evading every approach by barely a step.
But the noose tightened.
One by one, the players were caught: sometimes by recklessness, sometimes by simple bad luck. The circle shrank, and the suspense grew. Only two boys remained: Matthias and another, tall and muscular, who seemed just as agile. The girl turned slowly, then took a step forward...
Matthias held his breath. The other player tried to retreat.
Bad choice. A swirl of tulle wrapped around his foot. He stumbled slightly. That was enough. She spun around quickly, reached out her arm… and touched him with her fingers.
— "Caught!" Loki announced cheerfully.
The golden circle of light faded. Matthias, standing alone, straightened his head. He had won again.
Loki applauded slowly, delighted.
— "Matthias… I think we’ve found our little prodigy. Bravo! And my dear, thank you for playing along."
With slow steps, the young girl returned to the crowd. Her friends gathered around her and admired her new outfit. Loki smiled to himself, then turned to the eliminated players.
— "As for you, my dear losers… I hope you have beautiful skulls."
An uneasy silence passed through the ranks.
— "Because your penalty is simple: no more hair. Bald as eggs. Perhaps with fewer strands in your eyes, you’ll avoid being caught next time!"
Another snap of his fingers, and the change was instant. The hair fell away in an instant, as if swept away by an invisible gust. Some boys raised their hands to their smooth, bald skulls.
But Loki, a perfectionist, approached a few of them.
— "Oh no, not with unsightly bumps… You must stay at the level I’ve set for you." He ran his fingers over their skulls, subtly reshaping the curves: a harmonious bulge here, a softened tan line there. Under his touch, their heads became smooth, almost aesthetic, as though polished to perfection.
— "There! Heads worthy of statues."
Then, turning to Matthias:
— "And you, dear champion, a little bonus."
He snapped his fingers, conjuring a mirror, then flicked Matthias on the forehead. A sensation of coolness slid over his head.
— "You can now choose, by thought, the length of your hair, their texture, their style. At will."
Matthias raised an eyebrow, surprised.
— "Try it out."
He focused. His hair grew in a matter of seconds, going from a short cut to long locks cascading down his shoulders. Then he thought of a military-style haircut: his hair clipped into a crew cut. Then a colorful mohawk, followed by golden dreadlocks. Finally, a giant afro. Loki laughed at each change.
— "One last one?" suggested Loki.
Matthias thought. His hair smoothed back elegantly, slicked and structured, shiny. A perfect slicked-back look.
He looked at himself in the magical mirror. With his black tuxedo, solid shoulders, and slender silhouette, this hairstyle accentuated his face with timeless elegance.
— "Perfect," Loki nodded, as he made the mirror disappear. "A touch of refinement. You gain style with each game, Matthias. But don’t get too comfortable… the next ones will be riskier."