[Mkguild] Only in Metamor... (Part two of about three...)

[Kit]

I woke up with a headache in the corner on top of my piled clothes where I
had been thrown as a fox when the morning light hit my eyes. Looking at the
room around me I noticed that there was a new window in the wall that hadn’t
been there the night before and probably wouldn’t be there in an hour now
that it had served its purpose. Aside from that, I could see that the
previously white walls were now charred black in several places with various
scorch marks. I half expected to find a note of complaint hanging down from
the ceiling.

I also had no fur left on my face at all. Impossibly enough I had survived
the explosion with only that, and my body had shielded my clothes from the
blast as well. I would have expected more widespread burns at least. The
only explanation I could think of was that the majority of the force of the
explosion had been directed away from me, a theory I confirmed by looking me
at the walls around me at the degrees of scorching in different parts of the
room. I was suddenly glad I had put my pendant back on, because even though
as a fox it was only a patch of white fur on my breast, it evidently still
worked.

I shook my head and stood up on four feet. Luckily enough for me that extra
amount of magic wasn’t a constant stream so much as a one time overflow,
although without some sort of warding, the same thing would probably happen
anytime I tried becoming an adult after more than a day of being a child.
What had happened today hadn’t been all that big and I could have probably
handled the overflow on my own if I hadn’t panicked, creating a much more
powerful spell than I had to leaving me slightly weak, but that had only
been one day. Even taking the relatively small rate of buildup into
consideration, it would eventually build up to very large amounts. I
shuddered to think of the buildup I’d get if I didn’t vent the overflow
every month or so and I was glad I had discovered this early. I could
probably shove the extra into my pendant, but it would need a modification
spell every time I tried it. After about a month I’d probably end up with
the overflow anyway, even as a toddler, so it wouldn’t build up to monstrous
amounts if I forgot to vent it, but on the other hand I would have to be
prepared for unexpected surges.

In the end, whenever becoming an adult I’d probably get an explosion of
magic after which I’d be as strong as I would be normally as an adult. On
the other hand, the reverse probably wasn’t true and if I returned to my
thirteen year old self as I was now, I’d just find my magic ability suddenly
cut in half. I found the curse on myself and changed back into my younger,
more humanoid form, and sure enough, I felt a similar ripple to before as
the dam went back into place. As I stood up and put my clothes back on, I
realized that whatever spell I had just cast would probably be useful in a
tight situation, so I gathered the char from the walls into a compressed
pebble with a quick spell to study the magical residue later.

But that was a thought for another time, and for now I just wanted my fur
back and the only person I knew around here that could do that was Pascal, a
somewhat bizarre alchemist that I had had dealings with before. I shut the
bookcase behind me, and left the room taking a left at the first
intersection I found. Apparently Kyia was done messing with me today as I
quickly found the sign I sought with a beaker full of bubbling liquid
depicted on it.

With a little apprehension, I knocked on the door and heard a sudden muffled
explosion followed by the sounds of falling glass and a shout, “DRAT!” There
was a second or two of silence and then someone inside gave an audible sigh
and said, “Well you may as well come in, the experiment’s ruined anyway.” I
pushed the door open and watched as the irritable porcupine picked a few
shards of glass out of her currently latex skin. She looked up at me and
brightened visibly. “Virmir! So it worked! Ha, Vincent owes me a gold sun. I
assume you want me to put you back?”

Confused, I opened my mouth to ask what in the Midlands she was talking
about but she interrupted me, taking my question for an affirmative. “Well I
can’t, you’ll just have to wait for it to grow out. Be thankful you didn’t
end up like Michael. I always get a little laugh when I see that checkered
beaver go by.” By then she had gotten a closer look at my face. "By the
gods! What happened to your face? It's got no fur left! Let me guess,
fireball gone awry? You really should be more careful with those. Another
thing..."

"What did you do to my muffin!?" a voice exclaimed from behind me. I spun
around to see a gray fox, about my height, burst through the doorway trailed
by a dark cloak and brandishing a red confectionery.

"Virmir? But..." she trailed off confused, looking from me to the other fox
and back to me. Then she looked at the red muffin he was holding and
frowned. "I was worried that would happen," she muttered, "Would you like
another?"

The other fox, who I guessed must have been Virmir, pushed me out of the way
and advanced upon her, snarling.  "NO, blast it!" he sputtered, so enraged
he clenched his tiny fists, crushing the muffin and letting the crumbs fall
to the floor.  "Should you tamper with my food again, I'll-- I'll--"

"You'll what?"

Several of the bunsen burners heating various flasks on the far side of the
room abruptly exploded, shattering even more glass as the oversized flames
engulfed them.  The porcupine flattened her ears against her skull as the
reverberating shards spayed upon the floor and her quills lay down upon her
back. "... I see."

Virmir harrumph-ed and flipped his cloak with a flourish before storming
past me and out the door.  His echoing voice lingered through the corridor.
 "Tampering with MY muffin! By the GODS, the people here are insane!”

Pascal sighed, "Well darn. There goes my gold sun..."

She then turned back to look at me. “So if you’re not Virmir, who are you?”


 I grinned and said, “Actually, you already know me,” making myself younger
and more human until I was about five and only my ears and a tail betrayed
my now apparent humanity.


 Pascal looked at me, “Actually you do look sort of familiar. Did you run an
errand for me once?” She paused looking closer. “Heh, you’re still missing
your .... eye... brows.... Kit? My goodness, it IS you! Guess you finally
got caught by the curse, and two at once no less!” she cackled heading into
the back once more.


 I sighed. It figures she would remember the eyebrows over my face, but then
again I suppose something like that would stick after four or five times. I
somehow managed to lose my eyebrows every time I came here recently. I heard
some rummaging sounds in the back and Pascal’s voice drifted over along with
a crash or two, “Now where did I put that thing? It can’t of gone far, I
just made one last – oops, oh well that’s not important anymore anyway...
aha!” She came back holding a bottle of fluid and another muffin which was
soggy and beginning to sizzle which she threw away.


 “Here. I’m guessing you want your hair back again. You’d think you’d learn
after five times, but I guess not. Come on, turn back into a fox, I can’t
grow back your fur unless you’re in a form that actually has one. Ah there
we go, now close your eyes.” I did as she said and yelped as a cold liquid
splashed across my face and I felt the by now familiar burning and itching
sensation of hair growing back in.


 I opened my eyes again and saw her shaking her head at me. “I know it hurts
but it’s your own fault. Now pay up, I want the usual.” she said, smiling
and holding up another bottle. I paled (literally), ‘the usual’ was one free
test of one of her various solutions. Last time I came here I walked away
with bright pink skin looking like I had a rather nasty case of sunburn. It
had taken a month for that particular die job to fade and I’m not sure why I
even bothered with the tradeoff. Partly it was the lesser of two evils I
suppose, but I admit I also tended to forget about the payment until she
brings it up, like just now. However, this time, my now white fur caught my
eye and I had an idea. “I don’t suppose I could interest you with a research
sample instead?” I asked, gesturing to my fur, smiling. If I played this
right, I might kill two birds with one stone...


 I left Pascal with a cheerful expression and started heading down the halls
of the keep aimlessly trying to whistle with a muzzle. Walking down the hall
once more, listening absently to the voices prattle on, I reflected on my
situation. I had new clothes that fit and a room to live in. Pascal had been
quite interested in my fur that changed colors and was trying to figure out
why. She wanted to know to duplicate in a dye for her own use on other
people’s fur, but I was pretty sure I’d be able to get a ‘cure’ for myself
from her somehow.


 Overall I seemed to be ahead on the situation, which probably meant I was
forgetting something. Or rather I knew what it was, but I didn’t really want
to deal with the issue just yet. I had spent my entire life traveling and
while there were some places I would return to frequently such as Metamor, I
would always move on before too long. But now because of the curse I
wouldn’t be able to travel anymore and that was going to hit me hard after a
while.


 “Hello?”


 My wanderlust wasn’t affecting me yet and wouldn’t for some time, but I
knew it would happen eventually, just like it always did. Hopefully I’d
figure something out by then...


 “Hello? Hello!”


 I started, snapping back to attention of the world around me. “Sorry,
what?” I asked, looking up at the person who had addressed me, a one eared
fox holding a knife and a piece of wood which was starting to look like an
otter. His voice was even, but his expression seemed to be rather annoyed.


 “I asked what you’re doing here. How did you get in?”


 “Oh, I was listening to something and not paying attention to where I was
going. Am I not supposed to be here?”


 “Not really, no. There are guards at the door for a reason and I have
trouble believing you walked past them without you OR them noticing. Your
story is also a little bogus. My one ear is just as sharp as the two of
yours and I haven’t heard anything.”


 I faltered. Oops, didn’t mean to let on to that. Now I could either try to
fob him off which would make him suspicious and hostile or tell him the
truth which would make him think I’m crazy. Looking at him and the scars
that marked him, I decided it would be a good idea not to make him hostile,
so I opted for the truth.


 “Well... you wouldn’t. I’m the only one who can hear the voices. They like
to speak to me. And before you say anything, I’m NOT crazy!”


 The fox stared at me, eyebrow raised and single ear cocked. “You say you
hear voices and you’re not crazy.” he said flatly. “Well go on, I’m
listening.”


 “Well they talk about things that have happened, and for some reason I’m
the only one who can hear them. They tend to latch on the things or people
or places and when they see me, I mean not see, they don’t have eyes, but
see in the way they do, which is to say-”


 He sighed and cut me off. “Just move on.”


 I blushed, looking down. Well... sort of. Being like I was, it translated
into me shrinking slightly backward, my ears laying back, my tail tucking
between my legs, and my blasted fur shading towards red. “Right, well they
tell me about things that happened. They don’t always make sense and most
don’t remember things for long unless it’s big and sometimes there’s
pictures but they’re sorta fuzzy and see through so-”


 “Enough, I think I get it.” he said, cutting me off again for which I was
thankful. I didn’t normally ramble like this, but then again, I wasn’t
normally a kid, and thinking back I had done this when I was a kid the first
time too when confronted with intimidating people. I broke my thoughts by
looking back up, and I saw him look at me thoughtfully. “So what were the
voices saying?”


 I sighed in relief. Finally a question I could answer without feeling
embarrassed! “A few were talking about a really big fight. There was a party
and then there wasn’t, and there was a betrayal and then LOTS of fighting,
but they were driven back and defeated!” I said, getting a little into the
flow of it. “There’s also another one that says what I think is the punch
line of a joke. But all it would say was those words and laugh.”


 The fox nodded, starting to whittle the piece of wood he held once more.
“The first would be the Winter Assault. Our Yule Party was interrupted by
the battle. And the second... well tell me the punch line and maybe I know
which joke it was.”


 I nodded, trying to remember what exactly that voice had said. “Umm... I’m
not entirely sure, but I think it said... bean dip?” There was a snap as his
knife shot through the neck of the otter and his ear and one of his eyebrows
twitched.


 “Who told you about that?” he asked. His tone was even flatter than before,
but his eyes spoke of murder. I gulped as I suddenly remembered the other
voice shushing the first and saying <Not near Misha!>. Misha, who I guessed
was this one eared fox, was apparently the butt of this joke and knew the
punch line all too well.


 “The voices did!” said a voice near us. We both blinked in surprise and
looked over at the metal fox who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “He can
hear them too!” it said, wagging its tail.


 Misha tilted his head and scratched it. “Madog? You know what he’s talking
about?” I blinked again, looking from one to the other. I had heard about
Misha and his ‘pet’ Madog, but had never met either before today.


 Madog nodded, tongue lolling. “The voices that say more than they know and
know more than they say.”


 Misha laughed. “Kind of like you then?” Indeed now that he pointed it out,
Madog did sound quite a bit like the voices, juvenile tone and everything.


 Madog nodded again, then abruptly pounced on me and licked my face, somehow
getting slobber all over it, despite being made completely of metal. He, for
‘it’ seemed to be rude and Madog did not seem like a ‘she’, then looked up
and said, “Don’t worry, he’s safe.” before disappearing even more abruptly
than he had pounced on me. I could still feel him vaguely as a shape in the
air leaving the room, but if I didn’t know it was him I might have never
noticed it.


 Misha stared after him a moment before looking back at me and saying in a
much more pleasant tone. “Well I don’t always understand him, but it seems
he trusts and believes you, so I will too. Besides, I’m not sure anyone as
nervous seeming as you would dare make up a story that unbelievable if it
wasn’t true. I guess I won’t have to kill anyone after all, but please don’t
ask around about it or bring that up again.” He held out his hand and said
grinning, “I’m Misha, leader of the long scouts, which are generally better
than the rest. Certainly better than the guards that let you get in here.”


 I took his hand. “Kit Calico, random traveling mage whose traveling days
seem to be over,” I said, looking down at my altered form. Misha nodded
understandingly.


 “That’s an old story, we get quite a few of those, people who aren’t
careful or lucky and overstay their grace period. Which were you?”


 “Unlucky.” I said, grimacing. “Teleport spell gone awry. I didn’t even know
where I was until just before the curse hit me.”


 Misha raised an eyebrow. “You mean you were in range of the curse for a
week and none of the patrols found you? That sounds a little more than just
unlucky to me.”


 I looked down and sideways, scuffing my foot on the ground. “Random chance
has a tendency of not being so random around me. They probably didn’t find
me for the same reason the guards outside didn’t notice me. It was a
pre-birth curse. Lots of really messed up things happen to me from bad luck,
but for some reason nothing ever gets hurt except my pride. I think it
steals my luck from games of chance and events like this to make me lucky
with injuries. I’ve dodged a fatal strike more than once by accidentally
tripping at just the right moment. Sometimes it extends to friends of mine
too.”


 I shrugged before concluding. “I roll snake eyes every time I touch a pair
of dice, but can escape a battlefield unscathed. Part of it’s that I’m
really good at not being hit, but even the most skilled person gets hit
sometimes without luck.”


 “Interesting...” he muttered. “So why don’t you wager that you’ll roll
snake eyes?” he asked.


 “I tried that once. I rolled double sixes.” I shook my head. “I’ve never
won a wager based on chance in my life. I’ve even had weighted dice go awry
for me.”


 Misha snorted. “And I bet that if I asked you to prove that, it wouldn’t
work just to spite you.” He shook his head. “Oh well, if you’re actually
telling the truth, which again seems reasonable because most people are
scared to lie to me, we could use you in the patrols. I’ve always found that
putting the lucky people up front is a really good idea.”


 I looked at him, head tilted as I thought that over. “Maybe. I’ll think
about it once I find a place to live. I’ve only been cursed for a few days
now and I’m still getting settled in.”


 The fox laughed, “I guess that explains your atrocious attempt at whistling
then.” I winced a little as he continued, “But if you’re looking for
somewhere to stay in town, I can probably help you out. I own a lot of
property there and I’m sure we can make an arrangement. Do you have a
business or way of making money?”


 I considered for a moment, “Sort of. I grew up with merchants so I know how
to barter well enough and they gave me a good amount of money when I left,
but mostly I’ve been living on the funds I get by selling magic trinkets I
make. It’s amazing how many people are willing to pay money for a bag that
makes things lighter, a kinder box that will always make a fire, or even
just a good luck charm.”


 Misha nodded thoughtfully. “That should work. I’ll need to get it ready,
but I should have something ready for you by the end of the week. Come to me
here on Sunday and I can take you there.”


 I grinned widely and thanked him. He just nodded, dismissing me and turned
his attention back to the piece of wood he had been carving when I came in.
As I left I heard him mutter softly, “Oh I hope Caroline doesn’t think I did
that on purpose. Now I’ll have to make another one...”


 I waved to the guards as I left, and they waved back before doing a double
take. As I turned the corner I heard the little girl ask the bear in
confusion, “Where’d he come from? I could have sworn Misha was the only one
in there.”



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


 Making my way back to my room for the evening, I was stopped by the words,
“... that Virmir...” That was the name of the other fox kit I had met at
Pascal’s! Curious, I listened closer to the conversation from around the
corner. From the feel of the air I could tell there were two, a canine of
some sort, and what seemed to be a giant wasp. The canine who had first
spoken continued on, “... telling you Kayser, he’s a demon! Those marks on
his back are unnatural and I’m going to prove it!”


 I blinked, considering the smallish fellow (although I suppose I no longer
had the right to say that) I had met earlier today. A demon? He certainly
seemed to have anger issues, but he hardly seemed demonic to me. I had met
one or two and they usually seemed more... evil. They took a delight in it
and I could feel the maliciousness off of them through the very air they
tainted. Virmir had none of that and it seemed the wasp, Kayser agreed with
me because his reply was to shoot down the canine’s assertion. “How many
times are we going to go over this Vincent? He is not a demon just because
of odd markings! Besides... how can you even prove they’re not natural?
There’s no way to do it!”


 Vincent! That was the fellow that Pascal mentioned! I listened closer as
Vincent continued his argument. “That’s where you’re wrong! I made a bet
with Pascal that she couldn’t dye his fur a different color than it is. I’m
willing to bet anything that those marks will still be there when the rest
of his fur is red or white, or whatever Pascal dyed it!”


 ‘Oh ho!’ I thought merrily, eyes twinkling. So THAT’S what this was all
about! I looked down to check my fur color and it was the same red color as
when I had walked into Pascal’s. If Pascal had mistaken me for Virmir, I was
willing to bet Vincent would too. If I wanted to get a solution to my color
problem from Pascal I needed to do her a favor and winning her this bet was
just the way to do it! Thinking back to what I had seen of Virmir this
afternoon, I assumed a similar posture and attitude.


 The clothes were different, but I was pretty sure they wouldn’t notice
that. I stormed around the corner, cutting off whatever Kayser was going to
say with mutterings of muffins, red fur, and uppity alchemists. As I rounded
the next corner past them, I raised my fist in the air and shouted, “BY THE
GODS, PASCAL WILL PAY FOR THIS!”, walked out of sight, and collapsed in
silent hysterics, holding my muzzle shut so they wouldn’t hear me.


 Behind me I heard Vincent say in a rather loud whisper, “See? See? It
worked! Pascal got him! She deserves that gold sun I promised her.” I nodded
in satisfaction, recovering my composure and got up, continuing on my way. I
could still hear the end of the conversation though as Kayser stated, “He
was wearing a shirt.”


 I paused, slightly worried. Had they seen through my ruse? Virmir had been
wearing a cape. Was it a trademark thing he always had? Vincent apparently
hadn’t figured it out and he said in a rather puzzle tone, “So?”


 I could almost hear Kayser restrain himself from smacking his forehead with
his hand as he explained himself. “So... wasn’t the whole point to see if
his markings were still there?” I sighed in relief heading on my way. They
had been well and thoroughly fooled and Pascal’s research was as good as
mine.


 There was a slight pause before Vincent muttered, “Maybe if we catch him in
the bath...” I snorted. The merchants I grew up with liked to say, ‘there’s
a sucker born every minute’ and I could tell this Vincent was one of them..
Maybe I’d pull take advantage of that some day if I was bored, it’s always
useful to know these things, but today it was getting late and didn’t feel
like doing much else but go to sleep, so when I found the door leading into
my room I went in and lay down on the bed.


 I spent the next hour or two tossing and turning and just trying to get to
sleep in general, but everything just felt too open. Like hearing, my
ability to feel the currents of the air around me was not something I could
just shut off, and sometimes everything felt so open that I couldn’t sleep.
Blankets would help but would also make it hard to breathe. Otherwise I felt
that if I went to sleep, my mind would just float off somewhere and get
lost. It never happened of course, but convincing myself of that was a
different matter. It worried me though because the last time I’d had this
issue of semi-agoraphobia was.... when I was a child. I was starting to
notice a bit of a trend in the ways I thought recently and it was rather
irritating.


 The logical thing to do would be to spend the night as an adult fox so I
wouldn’t be bothered by this and bled my magic energy pools on a daily basis
to prevent overflow. However, I was hardly a logical person and known to be
very stubborn. Plus, while the overflow wouldn’t be too dramatic after only
a day, it would still be dramatic enough that I’d get a mini adrenaline rush
when I tried it, hardly a good idea when trying to go to sleep. The other
alternative was to cast the modifier energy transfer spell which I didn’t
want to do daily and it was too complicated to just work into my pendant
without messing it up. Besides, you never know when having such huge blasts
of energy on command would be useful.


 So instead of doing the logical thing, I went for the next best idea. When
I was young I had dealt with the problem by cutting myself off from
everything around me. This usually meant a cushion fort of some kind, but I
figured I could get the same effect by sleeping under the desk and draping a
blanket over the open side.


 When I tried this I was no more comfortable than before, but now it was
more because of the slightly cramped space and hard floor than information
overflow. I could actually get to sleep here but I’d be pretty sore in the
morning, which was admittedly much better than the alternative of constant
insomnia. Settling in though, I noticed something I hadn’t before. Hidden by
the desk was a rather small hole in the wall that I could feel extending
into a tunnel.


 I wasn’t likely to sleep just yet and my curiosity was aroused now. I
couldn’t fit into the tunnel as I was, so instead I shrunk, falling into to
the increasingly familiar four legged form. I entered the tunnel and towards
the back I found a ‘room’ of sorts, spacious enough for me as I was, but it
looked like it would be incredibly cramped if I were in my more human like
shape.


 It also felt surprisingly comfortable and I knew I’d be able to sleep here
easily without being uncomfortable. In fact, it rather reminded me of a .....
den. That was the breaking point. I was very flexible with change, but this
was just one thing too many for me to compromise on. I wasn’t going to let
this curse take over my life and dictate what I did. Everything else had
been still me in a way, but I was NOT going to let myself succumb to this
second curse of mine so easily. With the line finally drawn, I trotted
deliberately back up the tunnel to the desk and jumped up onto the bed where
I aged myself into adulthood and curled up. As I predicted there was a brief
rush of energy which I dispersed slowly before trying to sleep. After the
adrenaline rush, sleep was slow in coming, but I managed it eventually, and
the rest I would deal with tomorrow.


!DSPAM:4ddd3762271491080519667!
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.integral.org/archives/mkguild/attachments/20110525/5a7705f8/attachment-0001.html>