Heir of the Labyrinth

Chapter 7: The first flight

The Goblin Castle, a labyrinthine structure of twisted towers, uneven staircases, and seemingly endless corridors, stood majestic and bizarre in the heart of the Goblin Kingdom. Above it, stormy clouds brewed in the sky, swirling with mysterious energy as magic pulsed in every corner. On the highest turret, a lone figure with golden hair and mismatched eyes stood gazing at the darkening horizon. Jareth, the Goblin King, exuded power and grace as he surveyed his kingdom—but today, something unusual tugged at his thoughts. His son, Jareth Jr., was about to take his third lesson in shape-shifting.

Shape-shifting was a family talent, passed down through generations of Goblin Kings. Jareth himself could transform into an owl with the flick of his wrist, soaring gracefully through the night. But Jareth Jr.? Well, he was... still learning.

-"Father?" A voice echoed up the spiral staircase leading to the turret.

Jareth turned, his cape billowing dramatically behind him. Jareth Jr., barely a young adult in goblin years, stood awkwardly at the top of the steps, looking up at his father with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He had the same unruly hair but they were glittery dark brown, but where Jareth carried himself with eerie confidence, Jr. seemed to fumble between steps, often tangling his feet in his own cloak. His eyes, though mismatched like his father's, were wide with uncertainty.

-"Ah, there you are," Jareth said, raising an eyebrow. "Ready for your another... lesson?"

Jareth Jr. swallowed and nodded. "I think so, Father."

-"Good." Jareth clapped his hands, and instantly the stone floor of the turret rippled and changed, transforming into a soft, grassy meadow under a clear night sky. The air was filled with the sound of distant owl hoots and the rustle of nocturnal creatures. Jareth swept an arm dramatically, his voice full of gravitas. "Tonight, you will learn the art of transforming into an owl. It is more than just a party trick, my boy—it's about becoming one with the night, embracing the freedom of flight."

Jareth Jr. nodded fervently. "I know, Father. I've been practicing."

Jareth's eyes narrowed slightly. "Practicing? Without supervision?"

-"Well, I tried! Twice." Jr. fidgeted with his cloak, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

-"And?" Jareth leaned forward, curious.

"I, um, accidentally turned into a squirrel for half a day."

There was a beat of silence, then Jareth Jr. added sheepishly, -"I couldn't change back until Hoggle found me."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "A squirrel, you say?" His lips twitched, suppressing a smile. "Well, I suppose it's good to know you're not restricted to owls. A diverse shape-shifting portfolio might prove useful, someday."

Jareth Jr. scratched the back of his neck. "I, uh, also kind of... chewed through the armrest of the throne when I got nervous."

Jareth sighed, though it was a fond, patient sigh. "Ah, yes. I did wonder why my throne had bite marks. No matter. Tonight, we focus on owls." He gestured toward the sky. "Owls are creatures of wisdom, of stealth. Their feathers are cloaked in magic and shadow. Now, close your eyes and feel the essence of the owl."

Jareth Jr. closed his eyes tightly, as if trying to squeeze the magic out by force. "Okay, I'm feeling it... I think?"

Jareth gave him a long, skeptical look. "Are you, though?"

The boy scrunched his face harder, a few strands of hair flopping over his forehead. His body trembled, and for a moment, his legs morphed into awkward, feathery stubs. Then, in an instant, the rest of his body ballooned out of proportion, his head shrinking to the size of a walnut.