The balls of magic within the Tavern guests were shaped and folded again and again. Until not a single surface was smooth. The ball could barely maintain its new shape. The magic wants to unravel but conflicting forces stop the others from moving.

  —---

  Following the path to where the map shows,

  A building with a book that enticingly glows,

  Along the way new magic is seen,

  Like a person turning invisible except for his spleen,

  While he was in no real danger,

  Every second things got even stranger,

  Dodging winged cookies shaped like little swords,

  Until they’re dismissed by the Academys wards,

  Stepping around a wide puddle of cats,

  Trying to pay him to step in with various hats,

  With obstacle after obstacle it took him an hour,

  Until he got to the majestic Library tower,

  Tall and thin like a colossal gothic spire,

  Into the clouds it went and even higher,

  Ornately carved doors tall enough for a giant to walk,

  A constant gentle murmur of people having a quiet talk,

  Open and inviting for all to get a look,

  And pick something to learn from a book,

  Our Hero stepped inside ready to learn about,

  The dimensional laws he wants to flout,

  To get home and back to what he knows,

  The mission solid in his mind, upon his face it shows,

  With conviction and purpose he looks around,

  Until the front desk his eyes had found,

  Standing there looking all proper and neat,

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Was a man there just waiting there to greet,

  Newcomers who knew not how to proceed,

  If their search between the floating shelves was to succeed,

  He shows our Hero to a blank book in which he can write,

  Which will make target books glow within his sight,

  Next the shelves up in the sky,

  Just step on one of the discs that fly,

  Focus on the tome that you need,

  The instructions from your mind it will heed,

  Above the second floor the knowledge is bound,

  Stealing it will release the Seeker Hound.

  So our Hero writes the words portal and home,

  Magic sparkles fly from the page and settle on a single tome,

  Disappointingly it is just a couple of pages,

  About the dangers that portals are to mages,

  And that more information is kept by a professor,

  Who job is to be it's keeper and suppresser,

  With nothing to do but remember their name,

  He wanders as all the shelves look the same,

  Picking up random tomes, on topics obscure,

  Our Heroes lack of understanding makes them a bore,

  Hours pass before the Dean sends the request,

  For our hero to appear at his behest,

  Upon accepting the message for him to come,

  The air around him began to twist and hum,

  Then his vision of the library melts like wax,

  The harps tune helping to stay calm and relax,

  Leaving behind an office with class and elegance,

  Furnished by a person who loved to run and prance,

  Posters of dancers lined the walls,

  Majestic leaps and choreographed falls,

  Throughout the room music was heard,

  A haunting refrain that was quite absurd,

  The most surprising thing that he saw,

  Was the person that came flying in through the door.

  —---

  With his prey lost and his allies distracted,

  It was time for a different plan to be enacted,

  So he asked the people around,

  That if in passing they had found,

  A guy with a harp on his sword,

  Making music of its own accord.