The Shadow of a Wing

by **Vizayas** on May 22nd, 2015, 9:21 pm

The pair - son and mother - stood in a small office lit only by candlelight.

Myzeralda, Vizayas' mother - or Myzer as Vizayas had heard her name spoken - sat across from Vizayas in the scant lighting that candlelight provided. She was sitting on a cushion, in a relaxed position with her legs splayed out and leaning back to 'sit' on her palms. Vizayas had his legs crossed, in the middle of calming himself, relaxing so that he could pay attention to the lesson she was about to impart upon him. "Vizayas, take a deep breath. It will help you relax." After a couple ticks she started drawing in the air for a deep breath with a rise of her chest, and Vizayas followed suit. Together they slowly exhaled the air with the fall of their chests.

"Your training is coming along nicely." Myzer commented.

It was true. Vizayas was practicing diligently. His limits were so much higher now, and he was glad that his effort was acknowledged. "Thank you, mother." He said in response to the compliment. He was feeling quite relaxed as well, thanks to his progress in meditation. The intense fasting he underwent for a long period with nothing but water to satiate him was a distant memory, but it was still a powerful one.

"It's time to learn your first Model." She said, popping her hands off the floor and hopping to her feet. She sauntered on over to the desk table, where there was a cylinder on the office table, obscured by a white sheet draped over it. "It was difficult to come across. I would have brought you one sooner, but the markets did not have a fair price before now." She tugged on the drape, then snapped it off like a magician with a grand flourish.

"Behold, the majestic raven!"

Vizayas observed the creature, a bird at first glance, from his position on the floor in the center of the room as it flapped its wings and squawked, creating a racket. It was standing on a wooden bench in the center of its cage, which was carved from polished wood. "I want you to study its every feature. How it moves, how it speaks. Then, we will kill it and bathe in its blood." She said, her words shifting to a dark tone towards the end.

"You can't be serious." Vizayas responded. "What's the point of covering yourself in its blood? Also, do we have to kill it? Why can't we just let it go?" He cared a lot about life, it just seemed wrong to kill something, let alone something they weren't going to eat. His mother's face convened into a wicked crescent shape, having no choice but to buckle over and trying to stifle her laughter.

"I am playing with you!" She exclaimed, laughing up a storm.

The words kind of stung, and Vizayas was the type to take learning seriously. He didn't like false information, even if it was immediately retracted. He also really didn't want to kill the bird. Vizayas was starting to find her sense of humor a bit dark, but thought nothing further of it after his mother calmed down and continued to speak. "The raven was my first Model as well." She said. "Memorize every detail of this bird. The beak and tongue, and the difference between the tail feathers, wing feathers, and chest feathers. They all have different lengths, consistencies, and movements. The talons and how they grasp the bar it stands upon. When you are ready, you can let it out of the cage to see it fly and observe - just close the window and the door so it can't get out. Become this bird, know its body as you would your own."

Her voice flipped to an octave lower, a deeper tone with an ominous hue to it. "But it has to die for you to study it's innards. The key to changing your mass efficiently involves understanding the insides of the creature you are changing into, to shift not just your outward appearance but your inner appearance as well. Ravens don't taste good, but we will honor it by consuming it in a stew if that is any consolation."

Vizayas gazed up at the ceiling in anxiety, this was making him conflicted beyond measure. It made sense that he had to study it, but there had to be a better way to understand it's biology. "Can't I just read a book or use a picture?" He asked. Myzeralda paused for a moment, as if giving the question some thought.

by **Vizayas** on May 22nd, 2015, 9:25 pm

She recanted her inner thoughts out loud. "You could, but books with the level of detail needed are rare, and expensive if not free. The library might have something, but I would doubt that there are more than a handful of books in this world with the level of detail required to replicate a bird's internal organs accurately and wholely. Medical journals and anotomical guides can be an excellent help, but they aren't a substitute for the real thing." She ended the statement with a long exhale, having forgotten to take a breath during the informal meanderings of her own thoughts.

Vizayas was defeated. He had no choice in the matter. "Alright. I guess there isn't any other way." He said. He would truly despise this act, but he hoped the gods would forgive him. Both for his reluctance, and his acceptance. He had a feeling in the back of his mind that Ionu would be delighted by the change. He stood, the balance of his body changing and the blood of his body resettling as he pushed off the ground and lightly disorienting him and forcing him to watch his balance in case he fell over, nerves once forgotten becoming numb in an instant. His foot felt like a stump, and he stamped it on the ground a couple of times to see if the feeling would come back. "My foot's gone numb." He said.

"It's fun when that happens." Myzeralda said. "A malady not quite the calamity. Goes away in a few ticks if you move around. I will leave you to your studies of this bird. Careful when you let it out, don't want it to peck your eyes out." She strode towards the door as Vizayas waved. "Ta-ta." She said.

"See you later, mother." Vizayas said, thoughts turning immediately back to his foot and the task at hand. He waddled around the room like a penguin, trying to get the feeling to come back in his leg. The warm sensation of his blood soon returned to him, and he breathed a deep sigh. He returned his attention to the bird, which cocked its head meekly at him as he leaned towards the cage to get a better look at it.

The bird fidgeted as Vizayas' eyes attempted to take in its every detail. From the waxy sheen of its feathers, to the pitch black eye cocked in his direction that seemed to stare directly into his soul. The beak was dark grey, a star contrast to the beauty of its black visage. There were little downy feathers along the ridge of the beak, starting from halfway towards the head. There were also some feathers along the 'chin' of the beak, the underside. Vizayas took note of his observations, grabbing an animal hide parchment used for scribbling from one side of the desk. He also took out the ink vial and popped the cork, setting it out in front of him next to the cage.

The quill was layed out on the desk, and Vizayas picked it up and began to hold the unfamiliar, yet familiar instrument in his hands. It was a feather quill, but a white one. Dipping his quill in the black solution, Vizayas brought it over the parchment and put it to the page. His hand quivered and he struggled to maintain a steady line as he began to draw a crude outline of the bird. He was terrible at art, and he knew that.

He started with the features he had already observed - the beak with a darker hue of feathers and the eye. Turning his attention to the bird again, he began to picture the length of each of its feathers, starting with the head down. He remarked about the shaggy throat feathers, almost resembling the mane of some wild cat caught in the rain and left out to dry. The quill having run dry, he dipped it in ink again and began to sketch out the neck feathers, being sure to note their ground-ward direction.

He leaned closer to the cage, inspecting the bird's head more closely. It kept turning its head to meet his gaze, making it difficult to study the smaller feathers on the back of its head from anything but a side angle. The feathers were tiny, many in number. A small forest of them. The bird let out a loud hiss when he got too close to the cage, startling him. This bird quite obviously wasn't his friend, but it gave him an idea.

He knew he had to see the bird act a bit more natural, and he now knew how to go about that. His mother had taught him another magic, Shielding. He enjoyed practicing it far more in his spare time due to the private nature the magic entailed. He was excelling at it, and he saw no better use for it than now. Perhaps conveniently, there was a kit of tools for dismembering a creature on the desk against the wall. A grim reminder of what he would soon have to do after he had gleaned all information possible from this bird while it was alive.

He grabbed a pair of what looked to be like tongs, only more narrow and surgical. A tool for removing parts with precision, it was perfect for what he had in mind. Holding it in his hand, he stuck it through the cage bars. The bird looked at it, hissing again. It took a step towards the other side of the cage, snapping at it. Vizayas moved his hand forward quickly to get the tool around some of its feathers. With a yank, even as the bird angrily pecked at the steel, he tore a tongful of feathers away. It shrieked angrily and rattled the cage as it flung itself against the bars in a fit of avian rage.

by **Vizayas** on May 22nd, 2015, 9:26 pm

On his retreat, many of the feathers fell to the bottom of the cage. Then he realized that he could have just picked up some of the previously shed feathers rather than torturing the poor creature. Holding the tongs outward and away from the cage with his bounty, he brought his left hand up to cover his face in shame. How could I be so cruel to torture this bird over my own sheer stupidity? Ionu, guide my perceptions and I will be forever thankful. It was a mistake, but this one hurt him deeply. His mother was starting to influence him, perhaps too well he concluded. Recomposing himself, he took a feather off the tongs with his left hand and placed the metal torture device back into the butchers box of tools.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to clear his thoughts while formulating an image within his inquisitive mind and attempting to hold it. By his will and focus, fog began to emanate from his hands. It began to slowly condense into a thin layer of djed that coated his right hand and enveloping his arm, occasionally wisping away only to be pulled back in by the demand of his mind. He knew he could 'weave' strands of djed together for a better effect, but that took much longer. His hand became surrounded by the elastic material which had wrapped itself around his arm continually, all the way up to his elbow and 'stretching' in a sense as he turned his wrist. Meanwhile, he maintained the visual image in his mind of the creature and working the information of the owner of the feather into the shield, focusing on preventing it from traversing its threshold and thus defend against any pecks or raking blows with its bony and spindly clawed toes.

The shield was miniscule, but he put enough effort into it so that it was half-decent by his judgement. It would work for what he had in mind. As his mind began to descend from the euophoria of manipulating djed, he set the feather aside and surveyed the results. His arm up to his elbow was covered in a thin layer of compressed fog, lumpy in certain areas but hopefully functional. He was quite sure it was tasked properly, he just had to see if it would work now.

His hand couldn't fully fit through the cage, so he was going to have to open it if he wanted to inspect this bird. Holding the top of the cage with one hand, he undid the latch with his shielded one. The bird stared at him blankly, as if waiting for the opportune moment to unleash its menacing power. The door slowly opened, and Vizayas slid his ensorceled right hand inside as he brought his face close to the cage door to observe. I have to get a good look at those wings... I hope I don't end up hurting it like last time.

The bird would have none of this. It turned into a monster so terrible that it could only be from the mountains surrounding Alvadas as it let out a shrieking squawk at his hand, flapping its wings as it jumped from its perch to get away. It banged against the top of the cage, raddling it and brushing Vizayas' hand with its feathers. Vizayas jolted at the sensation, fearing a bite from the bird as he let go. Next, the bird slammed towards him, forcing him to stand up as the cage tipped forward with his hand still inside it as he struggled to catch the bird with his protected fingers.

The situation was quickly beginning to devolve as the cage teetered over the edge of the desk before finally falling. With a quick snap of his wrist, he grabbed the bars of the cage from within as it hung, swaying from his arm. This was just the right angle to leave his arm pressed up against the edge of the door to the metal prison. The bird saw its chance and seized it, ramming itself into the opening and trying to force itself past Vizayas' arm, trying to grab his forearm with its legs for support only to have them slip away due to his magic.

Vizayas grabbed the cage with his other hand, and it swung backwards as he pulled his shielded hand toward himself. The bird used this as leverage, wedging itself between his arm and the cage door so that it might get yanked out, beak and a single flailing wing the only thing keeping it from escaping. Panic was beginning to overwhelm Vizayas. Then, he realized with dismay as the bird made its final last few inches through the cage that the window to the office was still open. The window, I have to get the window!

Fighting his battle with carrior terror proved to be complex and heated. Thinking fast, he pulled his arm out of the cage all the way, taking a step back and allowing it to be free to assault him if it so pleased. However, he would make sure it wouldnt escape. The cage sailed through the air as he pushed it outward and let go of it, catching the birds other wing and disabling it momentarily as it dove to the ground, free of its confines. Vizayas jumped from the floor towards the window, arm outstretched as he brought his knee up to land on it without having to stand upon it. This proved incredibly foolish as his knee hit the hard wood, jarring pain assaulting his nerves as he buckled, hand missing its mark and causing him to slump forward and toward the ground at the same time.

A loud shriek echoed behind him, and Vizayas curled his knees before springing upward and bringing his foot over the desk, rolling towards the wall as he knocked over a vial of ink and scattered just about everything else on the table with his hand stretching out to conquer this trial. At last, his fingers slid underneath the wooden panel and threw it shut, other hand fumbling with the latch to keep it locked and closed. He succeeded in cutting off the birds escape route. Then, he turned around and slid off the desk only to see the bird was nowhere in sight. His knee hurt something fierce, but he tried to ignore it best he could as his head swiveled around for the bird. Another low, drawn out squawk alerted him to the presence of the bird right next to his ear, hovering and flapping at him from behind.

The bird went forward and managed to nip at Vizayas' clothes. It was clearly angry with him. Vizayas didn't want to get bit or clawed, so he turned his hips to the side and began to swing around his shielded arm willy nilly to try and bat it out the air so he could make his escape. His hand didn't connect with anything for a moment as his up and down motions were nimbly dodged, but at last his open palm connected with something. The bird bounced out of the air towards the ground and Vizayas took it as his signal to bolt towards the door, flailing all the way with both arms like the inexperienced child he was.

He slammed into the door at full speed with his shoulder and side taking most of the force. He tried to turn the knob, but all the air left his lungs when he realized the door was locked! Gulping for breath, his mind began to take the back seat as he turned to witness a black blur sailing towards him followed by the pain of a beak munching on the flesh of his left arm. He reacted, turning to the side and batting it away again. Thinking quickly, his mind spun as he did the only thing he knew how - he began to change. Instinctually, his thoughts changed to the beak of a bird to protect his face. His jaw and nose, and indeed most of his face began to contort and contract, then expand forward to give his face an elongated look as a cool bony texture.

As this happened, Vizayas silently took a step forward with worry, not wanting to stand still while the bird recovered. He listened for its battle cry, as that seemed to announce an imminent attack on occasion, but it didn't come. He meandered quickly towards the other side of the room and saw that the box of metal tools had spilled its contents all over the floor. By this time, the beak had finished its creation, guided by a mind spread thin and coursing with adrenaline. So, the rest of his head followed suit and his vision seemed to shift slightly as his eyes changed in shape, visually guided by the features he had examined from the bird earlier.

His eyes scanned for floor in haste, looking for anything that could be used to defeat his assailant. He found himself drawn to the shine of a polished knife. Leaning over and grasping it as his transformation steadily continued, he picked it up and jumped to turn around and waved it side to side while he looked for the bird. Then, as he searched the air for the bird, he heard the sound of flapping originating from the floorboards. His eyes were immediately drawn to it.

The bird was injured, with a crumpled wing.

by **Vizayas** on May 22nd, 2015, 9:27 pm

It was standing on the floor, staring at him in his new form. The wing was frayed and bent slightly outward to the side. Vizayas' shielded hand shook as it held the knife, which in turn began to vibrate in his hand due to how tense he was. His heart beat soared, which he could feel. He began to free his mind, a sense of compassion overtaking him and helping to tear him away from his intention to defend himself. He no longer had to fight, this onslaught was over.

His hand opened, and the knife clattered to the floor and echoed throughout the room. Taking a step forward, he watched as the bird began to hop around the room, obviously in pain but not quite giving up yet. It looked at him, confused. Vizayas had the head of a raven now. He had surmised that it must have hit the ground hard and broke its wing after being flung downward by his hands flailing through the air, trying to get it away from himself.

Vizayas felt an odd respect for the bird, even though it tried to tear his eyes out like his mother had warned. Wild animals were fierce at their worst. He didn't want to get to know this side of any creature, let alone one his mother had told him to murder in cold blood in the name of knowledge. He decided he would continue his transformation, and that there was nothing he could do for the bird. His mind had glimpses of the bird's flight, so all he needed to do was visualize those wing feathers to continue on and change his entire body.

Each of the feathers was a slow process of double checking. He had since given up on taking notes, experience triumphing the effort required to memorize something once dull turned chaotic. The room was in tatters, with parchment and sharp metal tools scattered everywhere, waiting to inflict pain by being stepped on or utilized in some barbaric manner. One by one, he focused on creating those feathers by visualizing his body from within his mind, only the outside of his body as he changed it like an artist with a palette of textures and structures that each had to be individually sculpted with a purpose.

His mind wandered as he continued, thinking of how his mind took over and began to change him. Was this 'losing yourself' in a sense? His mother warned him about that. A mind was a powerful thing, but it seemed rife with the ability to manipulate his desires. It lied to him to save skin, even lead him into harming the bird. He wanted to kill it with that knife if it came any closer, and he was relieved that he didn't have to do such a thing. His mother had brought him into so much anguish, was this what the world was really like outside his home, a veil of illusion a facade for malintent?

He breathed a sigh of relief as the feeling of feathers popped up around his head. He had a bird's head, but there wasn't much in the term of feathers. He thought back to those grainy feathers covering the head, and the downy ones pushing past the beak. He also focused on opening up the nostrils in the beak, sculpting that transformation as well. Slowly, his head faded to black as it became adorned by feathers of various shapes, sizes and textures. His mind turned to his neck as he grew the feathers in downward and outward-pointing patterns, like a shaggy mane. The whole process took chimes, but he was growing happy with it.

Then, his eyes fixated themselves upon the bird from several feet away. Any rage it had was seeming to subside, and it was as mindless as ever. It wasn't trying to run away, just staring at him and locking eyes, bending its head to preen the feathers in its broken wing which looked painful. The broken wing was like a beautiful statue missing an arm. The way the spine turned gave Vizayas some ideas, taking note of the way it could bend. It had a flexible back. He bent forward and shed his shirt, raising it above his head only to have it catch on his beak. Tugging it free, it fell to the floor as the raven backed away in response.

His skin felt cool to the open air, but warm due to the mane of feathers around his chest and neck. Then, he closed his eyes and began to work on the next and more unsettling part of his visage - his spine. He felt his bones rearrange as he imagined the shape of the bird, his spine elongating and the plates shifting to allow him to take the shape and bend in a much more flexible way. Then, he puffed his chest out and began to imagine the slightly wide rib cage of a raven, the bows shifting to accomodate Pressing his newly changed bones against the floor, he brought his arms to his side as he lay prone with his face pointing towards the wall.

Gazing at the bird before him, which simply stared back as per usual, he observed its wings. They were crescent shaped, in a sense. They looked like wide, outstretched fingers. He could tell by the way the birds wing was bent that there were bones of some sort, probably affixed to little joints. He began to plan accordingly. Focusing on one arm at a time, the limb began to shift as his bones contracted, fingers lengthening as the mass went to them. Forming a wide, webbed hand he pulled his shoulder inward and merged it with his torso. As he did, the shield around his hand waned and stretched, eventually ripping apart into useless patches under the strain. Vizayas noticed Shielding seemed to do better when applied to a sort of final form.

The shape was jury rigged in a sense, but it looked realistic enough as Vizayas began to populate it with feathers, long and black ones nearly a foot and a half long near the edges due to his immense size. He hadn't grasped the concepts of changin his mass very well yet, but he was making 'strides' in that aspect. It was easier for him to focus on that last. Doing the same with the other arm, he continued to pay great attention to the feathers to make sure they were of the proper length. Then, with a heave he flipped himself on his back and sat up. He stretched the wings out, which felt awkward as he felt the breeze caress them ever so slightly.

Then, in this half-done form, Vizayas heard the door click. It creaked open as a familiar form walked in. "Having fun, honey?" She said, a wicked smile upon her face as Vizayas stared at her in a sort of meek embarassment. He stopped what he was doing as his mother picked up the raven nearby from the back of the neck and brought it over the cage, righting it with her free hand and placing it inside. "Let's get this place cleaned up."

She acted as if nothing had happened, as if nothing was her fault, and that Vizayas' terrifying experience was all a game. Vizayas turned his monstrous raven-inspired head away from her as he focused on letting the transformation go. His body began to warp, and he felt his spine shift. The beak on his face began to shrink out of view as his jaw became normal again. The warm sensation of feathers covering him in various places began to dissipate as they vanished, shrinking into his body to become what the djed dictated they originally were - skin.

His chest fell back to normal, and the peculiar bone structure in his arms began to normalize as his shoulder popped out and the remaining feathers diminished into his body. Vizayas was thankful that his body remembered his own form, it would be quite difficult trying to be so vain as to understand his appearance to a major extent. He was, in essence, his own model. He looked over his hands as the final gruesome changes reversed their hold on his bones, looking back to his mother.

He felt betrayed by her. "Don't ever lock the door without telling me again." He said in a whispered, demanding voice with the slightest hint of angered fear. She simply laughed as she picked up the cutting instruments one by one and placed them into the box.

by **Fable** on May 22nd, 2015, 10:43 pm

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