Breakfast was gone in a flash. At first, he savored the sweet blackberry and honey jam - even going so far as to dip his fingers and lick them clean. But as he sampled the rest of the platter, a ravenous hunger overtook Stephen's body. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that hungry in his entire life. Before he knew it, every plate was polished and Stephen was overcome with the loss of such an amazing breakfast.

Isabelle said he was meant to meet the Court Mage after he ate, so Stephen stacked the plates back onto the tray and stretched. An odor snuck into his nose. Stephen sniffed his shirt cautiously.

“Yup,” Stephen said definitively, “This one’s a goner.”

Stephen checked out the wardrobe once more, feeling the heavy material of each shirt before deciding on a loose evergreen tunic. He found a pair of black trousers in the dresser and a pair of what Stephen assumed were underwear. They looked more like shorts, but Stephen guessed nobody would even notice if he was wrong.

Stephen took a look at himself in the mirror before he left. He was practically swimming in his clothes. He turned side-to-side, surprised at how easy it was to move. They swept around his body, catching a surprising amount of air. Stephen guessed they would keep him cool, even in summer. Stephen grinned as he watched his tunic billow every time he spun around.

The back of his neck prickled, Stephen glanced over to the door. It was propped open, just slightly, and a sparkling pair of silvery eyes blinked at him. The door shut before Stephen could reach it. When Stephen opened it, nobody was there.

Stephen was suddenly very aware of how silly he probably looked, his face flushed. Whoever saw him now held very sensitive information, Stephen thought. Best to pretend it never happened. There wouldn’t be cameras in this world, Stephen was sure of it; at least, he hoped.

Stephen’s eyes darted from one side of the hall to the other as he made his way to the library to meet the Court Mage. Isabelle told him it was on the second floor and to the right. It occurred to Stephen that the castle wasn’t all that big. It was comprised of three wings and two floors, but it probably wasn’t any larger than his apartment building.

Some king, Stephen thought to himself as he climbed the stairs. Though, there was no denying the king was rich. Every dozen feet or so, there was another enormous painting of a landscape, or a battle, or the king himself. Stephen thought it was odd, however, that the battles comprised of real soldiers, not those hollow magical knights. Perhaps they were just the castle guards.

As Stephen approached the library, he heard a gasping cry,

“Help, somebody, help me!”

Stephen rushed towards the sound, turned the corner, and found himself in a small library. A bookshelf was tipped over, pinning a young man who was probably in his mid-twenties. His face was almost blue, the bookshelf was resting on his chest, the corner jabbing into the soft spot beneath his ribs.

Stephen crouched down and grabbed the bookshelf and grunted with effort, planting his feet as he tried to lift it enough for the man to scoot out from underneath.

“Ah,” The man breathed as the edge of the shelf was lifted a couple of inches, “Much better, I can catch my breath before I have another go.”

“Another go?” Stephen asked, confused.

“Why yes, it’s quite exciting to see the colors dance around in your vision.”

“You’re telling me you did this on purpose.”

“Of course not! It was just… a happy accident, you could say,” The young man’s face was regaining its color as Stephen considered just dropping the bookshelf.

The young man’s face turned inquisitive, “It does hurt, when it presses into my diaphragm, perhaps a towel or blanket would help.”

The young man turned to Stephen expectantly. Stephen’s head was spinning, trying to understand the situation. Was this man asking him to find something to make this more comfortable?

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to help you torture yourself like this. Can you just tell me where I can find the Court Mage?”

“Of course, of course,” The young man looked a little irritated, “But only if you help me.”

Stephen hefted the bookshelf more, “There you go.”

“No no no!”

Reluctantly, Stephen set the bookshelf back down on the young man, found a folded blanket hanging on an armchair by a fireplace, lifted the bookshelf again, and then set the blanket over the young man’s chest.

“Here you go,” Stephen said as he lowered the bookshelf yet again. The young man once more strained to breathe as a pained smile stretched across his face.

“Oh yes, that’s much more comfortable. It’s like a large creature’s stepping on me!”

An uncomfortable shiver ran down Stephen’s spine, “Could you tell me where the Court Mage is now?”

With a pleased moan, the young man’s eyes opened wide. Lifting a shaky arm, the man's fingers spread apart. The books surrounding him rose into the air and spun in place.

“You’ve found him, my pupil!”