You Broke the Looking Glass

Prologue - 4

"Yo, could you move out of the way? I need to go down this aisle."

"Ah, sorry! Here, go on ahead," I reply quietly, keeping to the rules of the Library.

At the mildly annoyed request of someone behind me, I shuffle close to a bookshelf and watch solemnly as they pass by, knocking past my shoulder with a gruff thanks back. I won't even bother asking them for directions out of here.

So, I've somehow become lost. Following up on a request Professor Trein gave me the other morning, I came to the NRC Library to look for any books that might help me get back to my world. Things were going well when he accompanied me inside and towards the inter-dimensional travel's section, but things went downhill fairly soon after that.

He had to leave fairly early into the trip to tend to his sweet Lucius, and due to the confusing layout of this building, I quickly became lost in the rows of books and never quite found my way to that area the professor and I were headed towards. I might have had more luck in navigating around if half the doors and sections weren't taped off by magical barriers that, you know, you need to use magic to pass through. It's a part of some security system that bars certain members of the school from accessing restricted sections without permission.

What's worse than being roped off from half the building and not finding Professor Trein's book recommendations, though, is that I've been wandering for half an hour all in an attempt to merely find the exit again. I've gone largely ignored when asking for help from the students gathered around this floor, and I'm trapped far enough in the back layers of this particular section that the check-out desk isn't even visible.

I need to get out of here soon, or all my other plans for the day will start to fall apart. I still need to clean the Great Seven statues, and I need to put together a small party for Grim to celebrate them officially becoming a student. And of course, I need to plan a back-up, sad boys party for them, in case they somehow failed to pass the headmage's test. I doubt that'll be the case, though. Grim is a very intelligent creature.

Looking around, there are a few paths I see that could take me out of here. Unfortunately, it's hard to see if there are any directional signs posted on the walls that could help direct me through the narrow aisles. Once more, the mask I wear is barring me from utilizing my sight as normal. Most of my vision is cramped, and hindered by a blurry black outline along my peripherals.

For the past week, I've been debating whether or not I should carve out the shapes of my eyes more to give me more room to see with. The only reason I don't want to is that doing so would require a decent knowledge of woodwork to smooth out the curves, and it would also mean taking some sort of sharp object to what could very well be my permanent, new face.

Not willing to let my poor vision hinder me, and not yet ready to succumb to a life living amongst the dusty bookshelves, I give myself a positive cheer under my breath and round the corner of a computer cubicle to find another way out on my own.

As I face the dim, open hallway in front of me, I come across the intriguing sight of two students, dressed in deep-ocean blue gowns and stacking small books on the crowns of their heads. The tallest of the two flourishes their hands to the air and begins a lovely waltz in a circle around the smaller student, who seems like they'd rather be anywhere else.

Even with a huge scowl on their face, I stop in my steps, finding myself drawn to the younger person's fairytale-ish appearance. I haven't seen someone who looks quite like them before. They've got short, lavender curls gracing the frame of their face, and a pair of blue eyes that are clear and bright enough to mirror every action their taller colleague makes.

Enraptured by the unusual beauty of the two students, I watch the lavender-haired one now place a new stack of books on their head. After several successful steps across the floor, their confidence sporadically wavers, and their toes turn inwards from one slight misstep.