Sky in the Abyss

by **Evarista** on December 1st, 2017, 7:14 am

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77th of Autumn, 517 A.V.

The dark and damp chamber impressed her as the most quiet peaceful place in the temple. The patches of mould on the walls and the thin streams of water trickling from the ceiling showed that this spacious circular room was fairly deep underwater. In the center was a full basin. The thin illumination of the sole torch near the only narrow entrance made the water look like tar. The walls and ceiling all around her were covered by eerie engravings of clearly magical design.

In front of the basin was a square altar, criss-crossed by gashes left by many blades; some cuts clearly fresher than others. On the altar laid a massive marine creature of a sort she vaguely recognized. Its was a shapeless mass of flesh, consisting of countless arms tangled together into some kind of grotesque flower bud. A single large, glassy eye stared at her from an opening between the messy tendrils. Even though dead, this monster intimidated Evarista merely by virtue of its appearance, and harmonized well with the nameless chamber that came to be its final resting place.

This remote room was one of the temple's many mysterious crevices, of the sort known by few and seldom visited, and its true purpose was not for a layman to guess. She only knew its purpose for tonight, which was to host an unusual lesson.

The periodic vibrations of the floor told her that her student was approaching, soon before the echo of his footsteps reached her ears.

From the narrow passage emerged a large figure clad in Ebonstryfe surcoat. At his belt was a long dagger, fastened at a somewhat awkwardly angle. He was probably told to leave his weapon behind, but was obviously uncomfortable walking around entirely unarmed. His dark skin, mess of thick curly hair and pronounced facial features made Evarista think he was an Akalak at first, but his aura was unambiguously human, hinting that he was somewhere in his early thirties. His relaxed posture radiated confidence, but once again, his aura betrayed a faint uneasiness; the uneven ripples running across it didn't match his well-practised firmness of countenance.

After a pause and a mildly wondersome survey of his surroundings, the soldier finally turned to met her gaze. Evarista remained still, arms hanging simply by her sides, and waited for him to approach. Another pause ensued as the pair stared each other down. Apparently done sizing her up, the man straightened his wide shoulders and left the doorway, taking only a few long steps to cross the distance to the center of the room, where his unimposing teacher awaited him.

"Nice place you've got here. Name's Maar," he greeted her with a low baritone. He seemed to be mildly amused by the situation.

by **Evarista** on February 21st, 2018, 10:21 am

As far as Evarista was told, this man was not a novice. She saw that as an excuse to dispense with verbal instruction. With all of it. From her skirt pocket she extracted a sizeable octagonal copper talisman on a matching copper chain. On the talisman were engraved countless tiny glyphs, together intended to make the wearer an open channel to directed djed movement. Originally devised as a torture implement, this has become a product of Ebonstryfe's peculiar pedagogical tradition of "dumping the baby into the ocean and seeing how it swims". Tonight, that was not going to be a metaphor. Whether her student was briefed on what was coming, she didn't know, and didn't care. She merely enjoyed the disturbingly practical teaching methods this tool afforded her.

Without further ceremony, she wordlessly thrust the talisman to Maar, signalling him to put it on. He received the unfamiliar item, a puzzled frown appearing on his face while his eyes darted between it and her. He probably at least expected an introduction, but quickly understood that there would be none, and adjusted to the flow instantly. Her oddly rude demeanor irritated him, but he said nothing. There were matters at hand far more deserving of his attention. Glancing at the talisman with slight suspicion one last time, he swung the chain over his head.

A wet chewing sound reached his ears, and something large moved in the corner of his vision. As he turned towards the movement, his hand darted towards his dagger instinctively. The massive carcass on the altar wriggled as if the dead flesh had suddenly come alive. In the weakly flickering light of the single torch, the writhing mass was stirred by countless long, slender shapes that his eyes traced back his teacher's face... or where her face once was.

Maar felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His mind understood what was happening in front of him, as he was also a morpher, but some instinct roiling even deeper than rational thought revolted against what he was seeing. He was suddenly overcome by a spontaneous reflex to fight or flee, as his intuition told him there was no place for any other reaction. It took all of his considerable willpower to remain still. His ill-omened bells in his heart rang the tune of warning, that what he saw could not be conversed or consorted with.

The uncanny upheaval in him lasted merely a moment. His current morphing knowledge, and the knowledge of every morpher he knew, entailed the mimicry of wolves, bears, eagles and other creatures in such spirit. What happened in front of him was something entirely different. Something he wanted no part of. His former amusement was wiped off entirely, and replaced only with tension.

The faceless figure raised its hands towards him, almost making him recoil. The hands began gesturing something, each movement uncannily sluggish, as though they moved through thick jelly rather than air. The pale limbs seemed to turn at impossible angles, bending where joints should not be, but surely that was an illusion brought on by the dimness of the flickering fire, and his wound-up state. He soon understood that he was being told to undress. Not a far-fetched premise for an exercise in morphing, but the chill that crept down his spine was accompanied by an ominous premonition. It would likely not be an exercise of the sort he was used to.

As Maar unfastened the latches on his tabard with rigid fingers, he wondered why he was ordered here, as if looking for an excuse to leave. To run away from his place and never come back, perhaps even accepting the harsh punishment of his superiors. The punishment was a part of his world, but this was not. He felt that he was about to enter a different world where he did not want to be. But... no more such thoughts. Rhysol willed it, and Rhysol's will was law. Armed with that resolve, he was ready to endure whatever unnameable devilry was in store for him tonight.

by **Evarista** on February 21st, 2018, 10:23 am

Through Evarista's mind flowed a torrent of impressions, drained from the aura of the monstrous carcass on the altar. The many feelers she extended towards it were imbued with all of her senses, human and not so human, together able to delve deeper into the material and the immaterial than a mortal mind was ever meant to. She saw elastic fabric much unlike her own, vessels filled with dead blue blood, and a strangely spacious neural network lying dark and abandoned like a lost catacomb.

Without dislodging her focus, she reached blindly towards the heartbeat standing slightly to the side. When her cold fingertips touched his skin, she continued pressing, feeling her fingers sink into his flesh as if it were clay. The heartbeat jumped in distress, but didn't recoil, allowing her to begin her grisly craft. The copper talisman made him a mirror, his body beginning to twist in the same manner as her own. Firm flesh turned grey and slippery, expanding and undulating with shapeless force, as if the new form was released from the prison of the old. A nauseating stench of rotten fish filled the air, followed by grotesque slapping sounds as something peeled halfway off the bone and fell onto the floor, squirming desperately as if to escape.

Suddenly, she felt him begin to pull away from her reflexively, his violent breathing and heartbeat revealing that he was no longer in control of himself.

"N-no... No! No!"

Reason, duty and determination seemed to have left Maar entirely. Evaporated like smoke, leaving him like a lost child in the woods. No, he was not a child. In his eventful service, he has turned into many fearsome beasts and slain many men and fiends without pause or regret. He knew how to face the most terrifying opponent in battle, but he knew not how to face the nameless atrocity being forced onto his very being in this cursed deep chapel.

"Let go, you pe-gllp...!"

His shriek of protest diffused into nothing as his vocal chords melted into his increasingly soft throat. He struggled desperately to get away from her, but many strong appendages pulled him back time after time with patient firmness.

Evarista had no eyes, but she could smell his panic behind any other feeling in the room. Detached indifference slowly gave way to a perverse elation that seemed to warm the room around her. The more strange mucous skin was exposed to the air, the more the new bright neurons invigorated her, sensations pulsing faster and faster through them. The new flesh seemed to gradually awaken to its own intelligence, moving independently of her mind; orienting itself curiously as it was thrust into its new dimensions. No, it was not merely an illusion. Those inhumanly vast nervous caverns, dead and dark in the thing on the altar, felt like rapidly repopulating cities with many minds as life was poured into them. She was slowly washed over by a wave of transcendent bliss.

The struggling man she held was undergoing the same metamorphosis, and gave her the most amusing reaction. When his breathing and heartbeat began to even, she understood that he was gradually reining himself in. Maar seemed to realize that he was supposed to concentrate on the changes and maintain them, rather than resist them. It was far more an exercise to overcome his revulsion for the alien than to overcome his skill limitations. A discipline of the ego more than a discipline of djed.

His mental aura finally showed her an even pulse of focus. He was ready.

by **Evarista** on February 21st, 2018, 10:24 am

Embracing him firmly with many slithering arms, Evarista nudged her student to move with her. With a soft splash, the cold water of the basin closed around them; wrapping them both in the silky comfort of their aquatic home, where they longed to be after the harsh air.

Feeling the water pass over her mantle, Evarista detected something strange in the texture; something strange enough to give her pause. The water somehow seemed thin, seeping inside her body and smothering her from within. It was not drowning, because the gills could take the oxygen they needed, but more akin to over-drinking. She recalled this sensation from the times when she drunkenly ate an inordinate amount of salty fish and afterwards drank an inordinate amount of water. Maar seemed to react as well, curling up his many arms with alarmed confusion but otherwise unsure how to respond.

Fortunately, Evarista understood the problem of the water after tasting it. It lacked salt. She remembered the taste of water in the basin of the far south, and while the salty water would have disgusted a human palate, her aquatic forms were the opposite. The invasive thinness of fresh water soon turned from merely uncomfortable to alien and repulsive. Her flexible tissues began to bloat, as if a massive funnel was forced down her throat and let her consume a never-ending current.

The improvised response took the form of her usual go-to defence -- tiny, barely visible chitinous scales emerged on the grey skin, pushing apart the soft tissue and linking together form a protective layer. The plates themselves secreted a slimy coat, denser than the sensitive cephalic skin. While simple, the barrier seemed to stop the bloating influx of the lake water, letting through only as much water as the body released. Judging by his auristic emanations, her student had calmed down as well. Evarista could savor another victory against Nature; another blasphemous acclimation to where she did not belong.

The last obstacle to the lesson was gone. Impatient to begin the main course of tonight's instruction, the strange teacher dived towards the center of the basin, pulling her dazed student with her.

by **Evarista** on February 21st, 2018, 10:26 am

The hard floor of the basin suddenly gave way to nothing, and Evarista eagerly plunged into the darkness below. A crushing mass of water pressed against them, as if trying to stop their advance, but their flexible bodies stretched out like arrows, piercing the dense liquid without effort. Although the surroundings were pitch-black and they could see nothing, the environment changed, forcing upon them sensations that neither of them could describe. A simultaneous paradox of oppressive weight and unbridled freedom. They were no longer swimming in any bowl or basin. They were in Lake Ravok.

The erratic radiation of her student's aura spoke more than any words. He, who has been so relaxed and confident in his human form, was now struck by panic. His oxygen uptake and osmosis were normal, so his new shape was not the problem. Maybe he wasn't mentally ready for the experience, but that part of the struggle was his own, and maybe therein was the point of the lesson.

It was time for a short cruise. First breathing in the silky lake water until her mantle cavity was full, she then tightened the conveniently placed internal muscles around the reservoir, expelling the water from her siphon. The sudden jet propelled her fowards with startling speed, making the lake press against her body in resistance to her efforts. She felt one of her arms bump into some invisible, but thankfully small, lake resident that was not fast enough to get out of the way.

Her stunned companion, secured by nothing but her grip, dangled behind her while angling his body to reduce the battering pressure of oncoming water. In an attempt to mimic her movements, he opened his mantle cavity a little, spitting out a tiny jet of water that only pushed him forward a few paces. Was he too afraid? It seemed like something was distracting him.

Inhaling another mantleful, Evarista took some technical liberties to reinforce the contracting musculature with some extra tissue, before contracting the mantle again to expel another jet. The very space of the lake seemed to bend around her, trying to stop her advance and yet helplessly parting before her. It felt like freedom. It felt as though she was flying fast through a mysterious sky, away from everything old and towards something new. She had to give credit to Nature, designing such laws and bodies where power lied in simplicity. If there was anything on which she agreed with Nature, it was this. Of course, that wouldn't stop her from perverting and debasing everything natural to her own liking.

But it looked like her abominable acrobatics had to end early. Her unfortunate student was beginning to lose consciousness, his struggle to stay awake evident in his aura. His death here would probably cause paperwork, so it was best to wrap up the session and let him contemplate on his new wisdoms.

***

Evarista tied her neckerchief unhurriedly, casting a bored glance at her wet student who still coughed up water on the floor of the nameless chamber. Her gaze stopped on the battered belt that clung to his bare hips. To the belt was latched an empty scabbard, and on his leg just below was a suspiciously placed bleeding gash. When told to undress, the fool hadn't removed his weapon. It looked like that during their first jetting, the dagger got catapulted out of its sheath and left a red-lipsticked kiss of goodbye.

This man was too rooted in humanity to ever become a master. He should go back to playing with his daggers and bear claws. That would be the short and long of Evarista's report.

Straightening her hair idly, the murky-eyed aristocrat turned her back and left the chamber without looking back. Her mind was already fully engrossed in other thoughts. Thoughts of the sky in the abyss.