The gardens were a series of small separated spaces, used exclusively by the alchemists to grow unique and rare flora. Curved beige walls were decorated with frosted purple stained-glass windows, each carrying the motif of a yellow rising sun. There was a small opening to the underground canals, carrying water in small and thin streams across the grounds – curving around soil growing flowers and fruits.

At the center was a large tree, covered in cuttings of branches of different plants. Hyacinths on one branch, while the other grew cherries, and at the far back grew jewels – actual jewels. Rubies, emeralds, and diamonds, all refracting in saturated hues as the sunlight came in. Below the canopy and these lights was a small table and a single chair, which Theodore gestured for me to sit on.

Struggling to thank him because of how taken aback I was of it all, I would’ve nearly missed the flying books that whizzed past by me.

“Sorry!” he laughed, stumbling backwards to dodge the books. “I thought bringing some reading material would make the waiting time less boring.”

I watched as the books rose to the ceiling of the room, backed by the blue sky and sunlight.

“Some books for you to pass the time and,” he turned to pluck a mushroom cap off the tree trunk. “Refreshments, of course.”

The mushroom cap was colored evergreen, but it soon changed to orange as he dipped it into the stream – filling it with clear water. As he presented it before me, I watched as the water, too, began to change color.

“Tea, orange flavored. A favorite of many of the alchemists.” He smiled, “Go on, have a taste.”

On one hand, I did not want to get poisoned or drugged by this mushroom cap. But on the other, I knew I’d feel bad if I turned it down. However, what took hold of me completely was the magic of it all. Like something out of a child’s picture-book. For that silly little mushroom cap reminded me of a gentler time in my life.

When I was a child and life was still dark and grim, I would spend hours reading books on faraway and magical places. Of faeries, witches, princes, and princesses. All these beautiful things that I knew I’d only be able to see on the yellowed pages of my youth. Even then and even now, I could recite all fairytales I knew by heart. So to be reminded of that silly story I read of faeries and mushrooms, I couldn’t help but smile.

“What a magical place.” I said, lifting my eyes to meet his.

Theodore looked surprise, silent for a moment as he watched me carefully with his wide blue eyes.

Despite myself, I let a laugh out. I felt tears tears prick my eyes for a reason I did not know. And still don’t, truth be told.

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s just… everything here feels like something out of this fairytale I used to read when I was young. It’s surreal.”

“Do you think it’s ugly?” he asked, a cloudy and unreadable expression on his face.

I stared at him for a moment, pondering what a strange question that was. But then again, everything was strange in Sun-Glint. The overgrown buildings, the immortals, the idea of four kings, of alchemists, and of mushroom caps that served as tea bags. All strange, but served a purpose of beauty and childhood memories. Memories of a place I knew I dreamed up.

“No,” I said, earnest in my declaration. “If anything I think this world is beautiful.”

When I turned back to him, it was my turn to be surprised. Suddenly, Theodore’s face was painted in red. His cheeks aflame and his eyes got wider, staring at me slightly slack-jawed.

“Oh,” he said, “Oh, I… well thank you.”

‘Oh no,’ I thought. ‘Was ‘I think this world is beautiful’ a type of flirt?’

Before I could ask, Theodore was already tugging his white scarf down trying to cover his face. He hurried around me, heading straight for the door.

“I’m sorry, did I – ”

“No!” he laughed nervously, waving his hand as his back faced me. “I just need to get going, I – uh, I have some paperwork for my alchemists that I need to do.”

“I did not mean – ”

“His Highness, King Jude will come pick you up in less than half an hour – until then!” he laughed again, “Goodbye for now!”

“But I – ”

But before I could say more, he had shut the door. Leaving me alone with floating books, magical tea, and the sound of running water.

I sighed, rubbing my neck awkwardly. The last thing I wanted to do was flirt with Theodore.

“I should read up more on the customs here,” I sighed, mumbling to myself and looking up at the floating books. “There must be some book on the culture here.”

Reaching up, I grabbed a brown leather-back book. The covers were covered in scratches and ornate details, the title written in faded golden ink – ‘Planetarium: A Compendium of Universal Culture’. As I flipped it open, gingerly taking the yellow edged papers between my fingertips, did I fail to notice the dark figure in the corner of the room. Covered in the foliage of the gardens.