Frost 1st, 520
One pine cone dropped as another rolled, the mossy, root-spanning wilds holding several truths deeply woven into the earth: life was teeming. The elements were always stirring, and the lower elevations here, while brisk, had none of the ice Nuraku had become accustomed to in recent days.
Vesta had been shacked up in a small village in Daravin, and Nuraku had spent much of her time tracking down the old crone for advice on her condition. Panic, she realized, had been her downfall. Vesta was truly trying to help, in her own vile ways. She was not the enemy, though at the same time, Nuraku believed Vesta was not someone she wanted to travel with any longer--the woman’s webs were wild and sticky, and she did not want to get caught up in them.
The house indicated to her by an Ash Elf as the temporary residence of a Rathor witch was something she circled over, unsteady wings glimpsing the territory for tell-tale signs of Vesta’s presence: namely, she knew the lady liked her silks, and sure enough, the windows were billowing with the same familiar sheets she’d seen at her hidden apartment back in Lower Nivenhain.
Swooping low to the ground, Nuraku beat her wings to stick the landing until the dirt touched her feet, and she hopped a few feet across the lawn behind a bush before curling inward and beginning a shift to her usual, more palatable white ermine self.
Some minutes later, a white little mustelid bounded over to the windowsill, hopping up and using those little feet to pull herself the extra bit of distance upward with the momentum, her minuscule weight making this a breeze. Clattering on the ledge, she nearly fell, but she managed to slink her hind end up and over before dipping her nose through the silks and into the apartment proper. She saw a pillow by the floor, so she aimed her nose at it and hopped down with a soft thud.
“Alphonse,” came a familiar voice. “So you return? For what reason?” Vesta wondered aloud. A claw raked beneath chin in thought, her eyes peeling. “Ahhh, it must be--no, it definitely is--you still seem to be stuck in the form you presently take.”
Sitting back in the same pillow she landed on, Alphonse tried to keep herself calm as the woman’s succinct voice played like a harp on her ears. She sighed, puffing out her little chest. “Yes, but I have since changed my name to reflect the change. I am Nuraku now,” she admitted. “Can you help?”
Vesta’s lips popped, and the lady eventually shrugged. “Mmmh, no,” she uttered most casually.
Nuraku’s heart dropped, and a sense of bitterness began pooling through her guts until rage started sparking deep inside. This wasn’t fair. None of this. “You did this to me,” she told Vesta.
“You did this to yourself,” said Vesta, before sipping some tea and setting the cup down with a dull clack against a glass table. “I made you fully aware of the risk with every Rune. Do not think yourself a special prattling brat who would not suffer a single complication of so many gifts of magic. As I have suffered through my own trials, so must you, though yours does seem to necessitate a different approach.”
Nuraku’s head dipped, quelling her anger. Her fear of weakness. “So... I am to solve this myself?” she muttered.
“Yes,” said Vesta. “I have every confidence in your ability to succeed here.”
“Do you know what’s going on with me, at least? I can turn, I can Imprint, I can do everything except feel what I once was. All I have left is my voice.” It stung deep to learn that even Vesta had no cure for this, but she knew she had to press on and learn if she were to one day regain her stature.
“Dear, you progressed so quickly that the mutations nearly all mages receive for attaining their power were especially acute on yourself,” said the old crone. “I have no doubt that this change has warped or obliterated the information of your self--you see, a normal Animus mage cannot Imprint while transformed, and yet you can. A blessing, for you will be able to use your wiles to Imprint and stalk beasts that would flee from lesser mages and their trudging feet. A curse, for you will struggle in society forevermore.”
“...Forevermore?” mumbled Alphonse. It was hard not to focus on the grim, especially the threat of it being eternal.
“Perhaps. Or maybe you will Ascend like some of the mage lords of Daravin, and learn to weave and muddle your own Mutations--a rumor, but perhaps your best hope?” said Vesta. “You will be stuck this way for years, even if you make it your life’s sole focus.”
Alphonse had never heard of an ‘Ascension’ before. She looked at the woman with a puzzled expression. “Mages ...turn into something? They become gods, for real? All the blathering about mage lords here is true?”
Vesta inhaled and deeply sighed. “No, not gods, but truly powerful in their own right. Their power reaches a sort of apex, and they change into something unlike what they once were. The implications on the soul are far reaching. I’m unsure if they even have a soul any longer... but I know so little of their lot. Stand clear of such people, Alphonse-”
“-Nuraku,” corrected the ermine calmly.
“Yes, Nuraku,” said Vesta. “Forgive me, the name change is ...sudden.”
“So if I attain this ‘Ascension’ then I’ll get to be me again?” hummed Nuraku. “How should I go about it?”
Vesta shrugged. “Go use your Animus. Push your limits and pray, pray you don’t become a monster by the end of it. Gather Templates and travel the world for beasts to Imprint upon. If you begin to stagnate, then do something differently. That is all I can suggest. It is the path of every mage, and perhaps I was too weary or relaxed to pursue means beyond my humble needs.”
Nuraku nodded. “Where should I start, then?”
“Go out without that fiery hot-knife of yours, and hunt some animals. You’re looking for features--there are lots of creatures with horns and tusks in these woods, and animals with strange abilities in the ocean, so perhaps a boar and a fish would suit you well--you already have wings to conquer the air, and your weasel form is unlikely to stir a panic, so . . . “ Vesta tapped her chin. “Mmh, yes, go get those, and then once you have them, look for bigger animals like big cats and large herbivores to achieve higher upper bounds in mass.”
Nuraku lingered for a moment, mulling over what Vesta had said. “That seems straightforward enough. Thank you.”
Vesta shrugged. “It’s enough to scrape away some of the green, to get you to a point where you’ll rival me, but beyond achieving more abilities and pushing your body to its limits, I cannot prescribe what it takes to attain an Ascension. I’m sure the Mage Lords here would send you on fools errands should you fly into their domain.”
Nuraku started to to move towards the door. “Then I cannot waste any time--” she paused. “I’m sorry Vesta, I still have not forgiven you for your wicked ways, an’, an’ I don’t want to linger.”
Vesta just laughed, rolling the thought side to side in her mind before rising on her cane to open the door for her student. “You could hardly call yourself pure either, murderer,” she teased. “Off with you.”
That door creaked wide open, and Nuraku bowed her head on the way out, looking back to watch Vesta as she trotted along down the cobbled path. Eventually the door closed, and Nuraku was left once again alone in the world save for the strange feelings tethered to her soul, and the Elven Gods she could feel imposing upon her being.
----
Six hours later.
Having flown quite some distance spanning a vast expanse to the far north where the dry deserts had receded to a more boreal climate, Nuraku now circled above the steppes in search of prey, her mind focused on the task Vesta had advised her to perform.
A boar...
She had seen them before in a place much like this, rooting around in the earth. Always, hunters had told her to steer clear, for they were the quarry of the experienced and not the novice. However, she wasn’t here to hunt one, no, but rather to become one.
The wind nipped at her feathers, biting to the bone in this chilly climate, but still she pressed on, scanning the forest floor for animals. There were plenty of deer. Lots and lots of deer. A hunter could only dream of being able to fly--every animal of the forest had no reason to suspect a small, silent raven hovering in the winds.
Just as the sun began to set, Nuraku saw ...something. Ovular in shape, meandering between the bushes. She almost missed it, and had to circle back to confirm her suspicions, tilting into the wind and gently coasting down... and down... until she started soaring towards the tree line.
Extending her wings, she beat them hard to slow her descent, talons reaching out for a swiftly approaching branch. Her wings buckled and she had to scrabble for purchase as she missed the mark some, but with a few more frantic flaps she righted herself.
Now scanning the forest floor for the animal she had since lost track of, she spotted the boar--a female followed by a few piglets, its snorting and bestial grunts directed at the earth it was goring up with those long, thick tusks. Nuraku immediately began to Imprint upon it, reaching out with her soul to get a feel for the animal.
Lucky for her, foraging took a long time, so the boar lingered in its small clearing as she grew familiar with the information, studying the animal’s behavior and the way it moved, even peering at such minute details as the way it breathed, and the way the musculature shifted over the bones as its feet stamped forward in the earth.
After several minutes, Nuraku could feel it--she had her Template. Hints of Immersion were already there in her mind, but lacking.
Those tusks should be useful. Something defensible--Vesta sure has good ideas sometimes... Feeling a bit bored, she still remained to watch the animal, trying to immerse herself in its cares and wants. The way the sow checked back on her piglets, and how it obsessively rooted around, using its nose to find every trace scent in the mulchy, cold earth. Even the scattering of snow proved no barrier for that powerful nose, and judging by the way it gnashed its teeth at the dirt, it definitely found food this way.
Nuraku began to form a clear idea in her mind for the behavior, this Immersion, and it soon settled. Now all that was left was Synchrony... but that would be done elsewhere.
