Author Topic: Transformation  (Read 730 times)


  • Young Wyrm
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« on: January 06, 2013, 01:20:41 PM »
Sometime before the time that many humans call Thanksgiving...

Chryrie had been deeply involved in her research.  She was determined to find a specific artifact in her homeland.  Something that would make her closer to Valheru.  

The Valheru were the ancient race of Dragon Lords.  They were powerful and brought down many other races, destroying all in their path until the Chaos War.  The moredhel and eledhel were created by the Valheru as slaves to serve them.  Once the Valheru were banished from Midkemia by the new gods, the moredhel race in general were driven with a need to find the items of power that had been left behind by their former masters.  

Chryrie, although she was only half moredhel, was only marginally different.  She just wanted power.  The only problem was, the more power she gained, the more corrupt and wicked she became.  Each new step fed the desires of her moredhel half, and it always wanted more.

Her brow was pinched together with concentration when she was suddenly no longer in her lab.  She was surrounded by blackness.   Chryrie blinked several times to make sure she was seeing, or not seeing, things correctly.   The floor beneath her felt hard, but made no noise when she took a step. She lifted a hand and summoned light to her fingertips, but it couldn't permeate the darkness beyond a few feet.  Her other hand lifted to repeat the light summoning as she turned to try and see all around her.   It had the same effect, even when both hands were lit up.  She had no idea where she was, and absolutely no idea how she got here.

Her mind was a whirlwind of thought.  She felt no power surge that normally comes with a teleportation spell.  She didn't feel off in the way that normally comes with lost time.  No, she had been in one place, then the next second she was in another.  But now where was this?

Her thin hands lifted and clapped over her head, sending out a ring of light from her like a shock-wave.  While she could see the light as it expanded out further and further, finally fading out a great distance away, what it revealed was disheartening.   She wasn't in a room or some expanse of platform.   She was simply nowhere.  

"This is ridiculous,"  Chryrie snorted derisively and moved her hands to create a portal.

Except a portal wouldn't form.

Her brow furrowed as she tried again.  Nothing.  So she tried a teleportation spell.  Again nothing.  She was trapped!  She even pulled one of her beads from her hair and stepped on it to trigger that teleportation.  Nothing.   She thought perhaps to abandon the construct body and return that way, but there was a problem.  Her expression became a mix of incredulous and worry as she put fingers to her neck.   She had a pulse.  She had forcibly been placed back in her real body at the same instant she was brought here.  There was no magic that she knew of that could do that to her.

So she looked upward and started to call to the only one she knew who might be able to help her.    "Khir-"

"ENOUGH!" A voice rumbled from the blackness.  The power of it made her drop instantly to her knees with a gasp.  It wasn't just loud.  The voice itself carried such weight that she felt her mind reeling.

"Chryrie Tyraesae Onyafal,"  The voice intoned, using her fully moredhel given name.  It made her flinch, but she was still defiant as she snarled before the voice could continue, even as she struggled to return to her feet.

"That's not my name!"

"SILENCE!"  The voice boomed, sending her back to the ground with her hands over her elongated ears.  "We will call you what we wish to call you.  Back to your feet, mortal child.  You who constantly seeks to be one of us."

Chryrie took several breaths as she returned to her feet.   Her kaleidoscope eyes tried to pierce the darkness to find the source of the voice, but still found nothing.  Meanwhile the voice continued on.

"We know what you're seeking.  We know why you want it. And we know who's attention you're trying to get by doing this.  You will fail.  But to amuse ourselves, we have decided to help you out.  But you will not join us completely.  You are not ready."

"What do you mean?"  Chryrie dared to ask.  She braced herself for the knee-buckling boom she was certain would happen, but it never did.   The voice sounded nearly amused instead.

"A demi-god isn't quite as powerful as we are.  But it'll make you all that the Valheru were, and then some. Use it wisely."

Chryrie opened her mouth to ask another question.  She wanted to know what the cost was.  There was always a cost.   But she never got the chance to ask.  

A blinding light suddenly overtook her.  Along with that light came pain. Mind numbing pain that left her unable to think or do anything... but scream.  She screamed from the agonizing pain until everything went black again as she fell unconscious.


  • Young Wyrm
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Re: Transformation
« Reply #1 on: January 06, 2013, 01:47:26 PM »
There was something cold and hard beneath her cheek as she began to wake up.  Marble.   It was the marble tiles of the flooring in Dark Lake Manor.

Her eyelids began to flutter as consciousness and awareness crept back into her mind.  She noticed the feeling of something flaking off her face with the movement.

It only took seconds for her to become fully aware again as she recalled what had happened to her.  She sat up with a gasp and looked around.

She was in her home again.  In the library.  But there was that strange sensation again.  She looked down at herself and then stared at what she saw.

Her skin was blackened.  She lifted a hand up to look at it.  Her very flesh had been reduced to ashes.  Her hand flexed, causing the black surface to crack, and then it started to flake away, revealing new flesh beneath it.  But it wasn't the same.  There was a subtle sparkle to it.  Not the kind of sparkle that came with it being coated with the dust that fell from her wings.

Her wings!   They were gone!  She reached behind her and felt at her back.  They had been burned away.  But as she thought about them, she felt them suddenly explode from her back.  She hesitated, afraid of what she would see, but she looked over her shoulder to look at one wing.  It was no longer lavender, but a webbing of black and green.  Her eyes closed and she turned her head away from the sight as the wings disappeared into her back again.

Even her hair had burned away, leaving a pile of trinkets on the floor next to her.   But as she ran her hand over her head, new black tresses burst from her scalp and continued down until was once again dragging the floor behind her.  

She finally looked up again and got to her feet.  It was only then that she saw her servants watching her.  The elementals fussed among themselves as they worried over their Mistress.  

"I think I need a bath,"  Chryrie said without any real emotion.  She was still processing everything.  Her mind was a beehive of activity.  Pockets of awareness that she had never experienced before were starting to reveal themselves.  She could feel a new kind of energy coursing it's way through her.   It was like liquid fire.  It was both frightening and delicious feeling all at the same time.

Her servants nearly exploded out of the room to do her bidding.  By the time she reached her personal rooms, a warm bath had already been drawn.  Her clothing had been burned away, but the gifts that she kept in her braid survived.  Even the feathers.  She found this strange, but didn't question it yet as she carefully placed them on her dresser.  She glanced at herself in the mirror before turning to head to the bath.  However, something made her stop and do a double-take.

Her eyes.

They were still swirling with the kaleidoscope effect they've always had.  There was just something new within the swirling colors.  Tiny glowing runes were moving with the colors, like flecks of dust.  

She took a deep breath that she realized she no longer needed.  Then with a shake of her head she turned from the mirror and went to wash away the ashes of what had once been her mortal shell.