Warning: Scales Not included

No snout or whiskers existed in his vision. Jorseph laid on his back and squinted. The book sat heavy on his chest. He raised a hand toward the bulb. It wasn’t his hand. It couldn’t be. It had too many fingers, was too slender, too smooth, too drained of color, and missing the dark curved claws.

The other four hands were completely missing.

He waved his hands in front of his face. The lower hands didn’t rise on his command. He felt his sides, nothing, just smoothness, no joints, no plates, no musculature for his multiple arms. Someone had chopped his arms off! He rolled on his side.

The spellbook slid off of his stomach.

If someone had chopped his arms, wouldn’t it be bloody and painful?

Forehead slapped against the cracked cement floor. The chipping stone felt cool against his skin. Eyes stared close to the floor into the details of the cracks without following the firm purple snout poking out of his hoodie. Palms rubbed at his face, still smooth, but now so soft as well. The whiskers were missing. He was so proud of how they’d thickened lately. Now he couldn’t so much as find a nub.

The room looked bigger as it spun around him. Sneakers slid off his feet. He rolled to look back to socks wiggling as he checked his toes. The claws wouldn’t come out no matter how much he strained.

His tail no longer existed. The long glorious tail that always tagged along behind him like every dragon’s companion was a no show. He put a hand on his back as he sat up on his knees. Fingers slid down into the back of his pants only to feel smooth and slightly damp skin without a single scale. He had to hold his pants up as he stood.

The ruby of the spellbook glared at him. The crescent moon glowed.

Draconic eyes glared back as he growled at it, “What did you do to me?”

The spellbook remained silently closed. Jorseph pressed a finger against his forehead. It slid up into violet hair that had replaced his mane. He grabbed both the book and the leather satchel, then he made a dash for the library. Though he had to dash back and grab his sneakers too. The items held clutched to his chest as he panted in a sprint to the bathroom.

The spellbook was set atop the toilet tank. The satchel hit the floor. Sneakers landed on top of it.

Hands slapped down on the old ceramic sink as he looked at the fourteen-year-old human boy in the mirror. He had violet hair, glowing reptilian eyes, and pointy ears. His teeth were white and sharp with long incisors. Jorseph touched the mirror with trembling fingers. His hand snapped back as if the glass tried to bite him.

“W-what am I?”

A shadow of swirling symbols grew from the glowing crescent moon on the cover of the spell book. It formed the miniature silhouette of lanky high school girl with long straight hair. Arms pushed out, inky fingers stretched. The symbols swirled to consolidate the figurine.

Arms went akimbo as it leaned toward Jorseph observingly, “You’re not the imp. You look normal to me. Help me get out of here. I have to save Zen and go home.”

Jorseph slowly turned his neck to center the figure in his vision. Palm swatted down over it. A squeak followed as he slapped the cover. Wisps of symbols rose like smoke. When he lifted his hand, it was gone.

A voice came from the book, “I thought you crushed me!”

Jorseph narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, “You put a curse on me, you stupid book! Remove it right now before I call my mom. She won’t care if you’re magic. She’ll have you incinerated for this!”

“A curse? I did no such thing!” The form of the girl took shape and slowly grew from the moon, “I’ve been locked in this prison for years with nothing to do! I can’t do anything. I miss my family. I miss my friends! I didn’t curse anyone. I just want to find my best friend and go home.”

“Are you a princess?” Jorseph blushed at the question he blurted out. His heart raced at the thought of a trapped princess.

The aura of words dissipated violently, then returned to human shape, “No, I’m just a normal girl. But I don’t deserve to be treated like this. Please help me.”

His blush faded into a frown, “Well, if you’re not a princess, then I’m not helping you.”

The aura of words dissipated violently again before returning to human shape, “Maybe I am a princess and just can’t say.”

Jorseph pointed to the book, “If you’re a princess, prove it. You turned me into this small strange scaleless creature with only two arms. Now, turn me back to normal and I’ll do what I can to help you.”

Silence. Then some more silence. A few moments passed as Jorseph awkwardly adjusted his clothes, “Well?”

“Sorry, I don’t remember turning you into anything. I was lost in myself and very angry. When the light came back on, I sort of just exploded at the first thing I saw. I don’t even remember what you originally looked like.”

“I’m a purple dragon!” Hands slapped down at the sides of the book. He didn’t even have claws to grip at the cover. He shook it above the toilet tank. The floating symbols Lilly used to approximate her form retreated back into the shining crescent moon.

Jorseph continued to shake her, “Do you even realize what you’ve done to me? I’ll become a laughing stock! They might even put me in prison. I’m a soft flesh bag ugly mammal thing that can be ripped apart by a single claw. This isn’t funny! Change me back!”

The spellbook obtained a red aura, “No. This serves you right. How does it feel to lose something important? You haven’t lost nearly enough. I’d curse you more if I could.”

Jorseph held the book. His trembling hands slid over the leather binding. A hot tension boiled from the cover as if it were made of flesh. A sensation of memories seared into his heart. He set the book back on the toilet tank. He closed the lid of the seat so he could sit himself.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know you were a dragon too. I wasn’t the one who did this to you though. Grabby might know more. I’ll ask him for help.”

“That’s a terrible idea. Grabby is that big eyeball, isn’t he? He’s the one who did this to me. There’s no way anyone ever could trust him. When I get my hands on him-”

The aura of symbols swirled violently around the cluster of symbols as heat pulsing from the book’s cover increased.

Jorseph sweat. The flesh on his hands, no longer heat resistant, crackled. He pulled back as a bright red aura like a glowing oven heated the ceramic of the toilet tank. The bathroom became fiery hot.

Hands waved in the drying air. Jorseph coughed, “Calm down! Please, this isn’t helping. You’ll set the bathroom on fire. I’m sorry, I’m just a kid. I don’t know anything! Please stop! I doubt a book will survive a fire!”

The heat flared more intensely.

“Maybe I’d rather go out this way than have my mind fade away in this staticky prison. Have you considered that?”

Jorseph backed against the rear wall. The book floated above a red-hot ceramic toilet tank from which water bubbled violently inside. Steam hissed from the lid. Jorseph slid to the floor and bawled as the flip phone he pulled from his pocket cracked, “It burns! Lilly, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The form snapped to attention, “How did you?” A gasp floated in the dry burning air. The book opened slightly as the aura vanished.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. This is no good. I’m- I’m out of control. I won’t bother you anymore. None of this is your problem. I’m so sorry.”

The room cooled with an arctic wind. The book clattered back down against the tank lid. The silhouette of symbols retreated back through crescent moon, which stopped glowing.

Jorseph wiped his eyes as he stared at the now cracking toilet as it leaked water all over the tile floor, “Wait. What about my scales?”