Chapter One:

Elliot Markham had always considered himself a man of science-an engineering major at Greystone University, known equally for his broad shoulders and precise differential equations. He wore his hair so short that people often joked it was afraid of his biceps. At twenty-two, he was already well into his final year, with a class schedule full of thermodynamics, machine design, and one very suspiciously easy humanities elective called “Mythical Lore and Mischief.”

It was in that class, during a particularly odd lecture involving hexes and the migratory patterns of gremlins, that Elliot had his brush with the impossible. The professor had excused herself briefly, and in that brief interlude, a dusty, cackling imp popped out of a decorative urn by the window, did three flips in the air, and declared that Elliot had “a face of agreeable geometry” and would be granted a “gift of infinite nonsense.” Then, with a flash of chartreuse smoke and an audible boing, the imp disappeared.

Ever since, Elliot had felt...different. Not ill. Not enlightened. Just...capable. He somehow knew he could now swap any trait-physical, mental, or otherwise-with any person, merely by thinking about it. He hadn’t tested it yet. Because that would be unscientific. Or maybe just slightly irresponsible.

But today was different.

He strode across the campus quad in his cargo shorts and Greystone Engineering tee, eyes scanning faces like a hawk watching a talent show. Tall, short, loud, limping, laughing-every trait suddenly glowed with potential. But he was waiting for the perfect one to test. The first swap needed to be simple. Harmless. Reversible. Scientific.

And then he saw her.

She was sitting under the big copper beech tree, reading a book, her long, golden blond hair tied neatly into a swirling bun that shimmered in the dappled light. Elliot slowed his pace. That hair was a masterpiece. Elegant. Shiny. Not something you'd find in Engineering Hall.

Perfect.

Hair was just hair. He could swap it, test the magic, then swap it back. It was like a software loop with a rollback. Nothing permanent.

He focused. Just a thought. Swap our hair.

A tingle ran over his scalp. A breeze fluttered by. He felt heavier somehow-and cooler around the neck.

And then-nothing felt wrong.

In fact, everything felt normal. His long blond hair, tied effortlessly into a high, stylish bun, felt just like it always had. He reached up instinctively to adjust it, knowing without hesitation how to wrap it back into place, how to brush it, condition it, even how to avoid split ends. His fingers paused mid-motion.

Wait.

Hadn’t he just had...?

He frowned. No, that wasn’t right. He had always had long hair. He liked tying it up when the weather got warm. Sometimes he wore braids. Wasn't that his style since middle school?

He glanced across the quad again and saw the woman still reading under the tree. She had very short hair now-cropped close, stylish but almost masculine. She seemed utterly at peace with it, flicking a page and tucking a lock behind her ear, as if she’d had that haircut forever.

Which, of course, she had. Right?

Elliot squinted at her. Something about her felt...swappable. Like she might be the one to try his first magical trait trade with. Maybe hair? No. That didn’t seem quite right. It had seemed like a good idea a moment ago, but now? Meh. Too simple. Too predictable. Besides, his hair looked amazing.

So the search continued.

He stretched, his bun bouncing slightly with the motion, and moved on toward the campus café, his newfound golden locks glinting in the sun like an Instagram influencer’s dream. The first subject of his magical experiment was out there somewhere.

He just had to think bigger.

And maybe...bring a scrunchie.

Chapter Two:

The sun sparkled off the Science Building’s windows like nature was having a glitter attack, and Elliot-buff, brainy, and now blissfully bunless-strolled across the plaza with purpose. Or at least the illusion of it. In truth, he was still hunting for his first real magical swap. Something exciting. Something memorable. Something more significant than a head of long blond hair that he definitely remembered always having.

As he passed the curved glass wall of the physics lab, he caught his reflection. The sun caught his golden locks just right, and for a moment, Elliot was struck by the majesty of it all.

His bun had gotten a little fuzzy after his walk, so he reached up and untied it. With a casual flip, his hair cascaded down in shimmering waves, catching the breeze and practically humming with radiant energy.

“...Dang,” he muttered, pausing to admire the way the light seemed to create a halo. “I look like the fourth member of a mythological boy band.”

He reached into his knapsack, rummaging among notebooks and a half-eaten protein bar. No brush.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “Where’s my-”

Then he stopped mid-rummage, his eyes drawn to a flash of color passing just ahead of him.

A woman walked briskly by, chatting on her phone, a bright sky-blue handbag bouncing at her side. It had a rounded bottom, a brass clasp that looked like it belonged on a secret treasure chest, and the kind of high-quality stitching that whispered designer to anyone who knew their accessories.

Elliot’s eyes widened slightly. It was perfect. He could fit his comb, brush, scrunchies, travel-sized detangler, emergency conditioner packets-everything-in that thing. Way better than the black nylon knapsack he currently used, which had exactly one side pocket and an unfortunate yogurt incident in its recent past.

But...a purse?

He scratched his head, golden waves fluttering down like some sort of shampoo commercial gone rogue. Wouldn’t that look weird? He was, after all, a towering, muscle-bound engineering dude. Purses didn’t fit guys like him. Right?

He glanced at the woman again. The bag gleamed. He imagined walking across campus, his bun neatly in place, that beautiful purse swinging confidently from his shoulder. He chewed his lip. Maybe if he-

And then-

Poof.

The thought vanished.

Not the idea. The hesitation.

Elliot blinked and found himself fishing through his very own designer sky-blue handbag with a brass clasp, muttering to himself about how he really needed to organize the hairbrush and detangler into separate pouches. He pulled out a rose gold detangling brush with little rounded tips (soft on the scalp!) and a compact mirror he had engraved last semester. With his initials.

He smiled to himself as he brushed his hair with gentle, practiced strokes. The purse hung at his side, resting comfortably against his cargo shorts, completely at home. He vaguely remembered getting it on sale-no, wait, almost on sale. Two hundred dollars was steep, but honestly? So worth it.

He adjusted the strap of his bag and sighed contentedly. His hair fell in perfect curtains around his face, and his purse matched his shoes. He was ready for whatever the magical day had in store.

Except...

He still hadn’t actually tested his power. Not yet. He needed a test that was unmistakable. Something with a result he couldn’t rationalize away. Not hair. Not a purse. Something undeniably, unmistakably...different.

Elliot spun slowly in place, eyes scanning the campus with the majestic sweep of someone who believed the world was full of swappable wonders.

The first real swap was out there somewhere.