Frost 73rd, 120
The thoughts of yesterday still hung heavily upon Nuraku’s mind. It was strange breathing beneath the water, living as an octopus. The time spent had in reality only been minutes before each student gave in. The feelings were just that bizarre, the kinematics of the body something she’d rested on. Today, she presumed they would try again.
However, she couldn’t miss a study session with her friend Aeraku. “How are your studies going?” she asked, hopping up onto the table.
Aeraku sighed. “The students are beginning to trust me more. I am no longer the pariah, at least. What of yours?”
“The Animus professor is rather eccentric, and seems kind,” replied Nuraku.
“Many of the faculty here are crotchety. Consider yourself lucky... I tried talking to our professor of linguistics, and all he wanted to do was chide me and play mind games, as if I should know already what he was teaching. I did learn a little more on these Nasal Bridges I was curious about, however.” Aeraku seemed to be frustrated. “Nardothis. I knew this place would be hostile, but not in such a derogatory way, you know?”
“I know,” replied Nuraku. “Daravinic society is difficult. But together, perhaps we can make it.”
Aeraku flipped open the book of translations to the section he was most concerned about, reading off the paper.
“Un pin. A pine,” said Aeraku, the first word spoken in a nasal accent. “Breathe partly through your nose and your mouth at the same time--just keep your mouth partly closed when you say the word.”
“Un pin?” repeated Nuraku, botching the word heavily.
“Open your mouth a little more. It’s... not terribly easy,” said Aeraku.
“Un pin.” Nuraku furrowed her brow. “This is hard.”
“Better,” said Aeraku. “Let’s try the next one. Un pan. A panel.”
“Un pan,” Nuraku carefully pronounced. “Was that good?”
“I think so,” said Aeraku. “Un pont. A bridge.”
“Un pont. A bridge,” said Nuraku.
Aeraku shrugged. “I think that’s good enough. It’s one of those things where once you know it, you’ll pick up on how other people use it through conversation.”
“That’s a good point,” said Nuraku. “A lot of this is too complicated to learn from a book.” She glanced up at the big timekeeper on the arch overlooking the study hall before looking over to Aeraku. “It’s already getting close to class time,” said Nuraku. “We’re learning more about a sea creature called an ‘Octopus’ today. It has eight arms, a beak, and no bones. It’s kinda funny lookin’,” said Nuraku. “Imprinted upon it yesterday.”
“Fun,” Aeraku shrugged. “Sea creatures are a strange breed. The ocean often disturbs me... hard to see what’s lurking between salt water.”
“Unless you’re one of those creatures from the depths!” chuckled Nuraku.
“Aye,” nodded Aeraku. “Good luck at class. Time to go torture myself before an audience that laughs at the idea of a Rathor studying magic.”
Nuraku sighed and set a paw upon Aeraku’s hand, patting him. “There there, friend, it’s only been a few days. I’m sure they’ll warm up to you.”
“I certainly hope so,” said Aeraku in a distant voice. “Hum. Well, I’ll see you then.”
“See you,” said Nuraku, hopping down from the table. I never thought he could be struggling even more than me. An Animus professor is likely kind towards me simply because being not-human or not-elf is more palatable to someone who can shift forms.
---
“Menagerie,” mumbled Nuraku to herself as she navigated the halls down to a wing of Nardothis which she was becoming quite familiar with in recent days. Before long, she was passing the upper levels of the more presentable terrariums, before crossing an arch towards the marine animal enclosures. As expected, her class was already mostly gathered, with more students pouring in as the minutes went by.
There was an awkward silence between everyone as the Animus instructor hung his head. “Well, those who aren’t making it shall miss today’s lesson,” he mumbled with a sigh, counting over everyone. “That’s most of you.”
“Today I will teach you each how to warg.” He patted the holding tank, their old friend from the day before residing within the tank, nonplussed about all the observing students. Nuraku walked up to the man as he motioned for her to come forward, hopping up onto his wrist and climbing to the shoulder, where she perched for a better view of the lesson. Nuraku remained silent, staying reserved for the lecture.
“Warging is a very special aspect of Animus that uniquely deals with other animals, as opposed to the ones within. It requires first Imprinting on that same kind of animal, and offers no finer control. It is generally used to safely scout an area with a well-trained pet, or as I will teach you to do, to understand and properly Immerse, and Synchronize yourselves to complicated creatures such as ‘Geralt’ here,” he said, gently patting the glass holding the giant octopus.
“To Warg is to feel what the animal feels. You will feel its pain, the way it moves, how it operates its body. It is a connection to the nerve tissue, a deliverance for those such as us with very different minds. When anatomy is so different, it is often a necessary step for proper understanding. Draw from the experience of the animal in operating its own body,” said the professor. “Now, each of you should stare at this creature. Having already Imprinted, you should feel a connection as your aether wells up with intent. Imagine yourself as Geralt. More than that, imagine your mind moving forwards into Geralt. Become Geralt.”
Nuraku crawled over to the man’s other shoulder to get a little closer, peering down at the octopus. “Alright,” she said softly. “I’ll give this a try.”
Shutting her eyes, Nuraku breathed in and out, then opened them, trying to feel for some kind of connection. As the professor said, she began to feel an implicit, responsive sensation between her and the creature. As she drove her thoughts forward, she felt herself drifting. A sharp gasp left her lips--it felt like drowning, that feeling when you’re about to fall asleep.
“Please, have a seat. If you feel yourself nodding off, let the feeling take you. Do not panic,” said the instructor. Nuraku wasn’t the only one to breathe sharply. A few of the other students were struggling similarly.
Rebounding quickly, Nuraku picked up on the connection and drove her thoughts forward, slowly falling slack upon the instructor’s shoulder. The man picked her up and set her down on the floor as she started to slip in her unconscious state, her mind elsewhere.
Like a murky haze growing clearer, Nuraku found herself trapped in the body of something bizarre and alien. As it breathed, so did she. As it moved, so did she. They were one. The more she paid attention to this strange experience, the more she got a feeling for how the creature felt.
Before long, the creature hugged itself, pressing against the glass with fear as a dull sound echoed through the water, an eye glancing up at the ceiling, which was being removed. A large, looming hand descended and grasped a tentacle. Fury lit up in the animal, enough to match its fear, though it only wrapped its many independently moving arms around the grabbing limb.
Pulled from the water, Nuraku felt the dryness of the cool, college air upon ‘her’ skin. It was strange to her how each arm moved independently of the other, as if having a mind of its own. The octopus did not ‘think’ in the same manner as the mortal races, as if it had an undulating mass of minds at its tentacle-tips.
Dragged out of the tank and tossed into the larger aquarium, Nuraku felt tension as the octopus hit the water with a splash. Then, it opened up its curtain of limbs and threw its weight around in the water, eventually drawing all of the tentacles inward at once to squeeze the water, propelling it forward. It felt exhilarating to sense the rush of water moving over its body, every jetting motion giving her sense for how the octopus moved as it canvased the coral floor for nooks and hide-y-holes and dens to hide in.
Finding a rocky overhang, the creature darted beneath it, snuggling in against the underside of a mossy rock and pulling itself forward by its many clutching suckers latching to the surface. Shifting to lay in wait, it began peering out of the murky opening as substrated swirled around, its many limbs bundling up along its own body.
It was about that time Nuraku pulled back with her mind, drawing out of the connection. She found herself rousing along the floor, shuddering. “That was... so weird,” she mumbled as she got to her feet and walked around the room. A few of the other students had woken up right away, and the rest were just beginning to awaken. “It really helps to understand the animal, yeah,” said Nuraku up to her professor.
“It does. I’m doubtful I could swim in that manner if not for the total immersion and added information fed to my mind by warging. It should allow you to better use the tentacles independently, as well,” said the professor, looking down upon her before addressing the class.
“Tomorrow shall be a very fun exercise, indeed. There is one more animal you will be imprinting on tomorrow. The last and final for the season. Please do not miss the lesson,” said the professor. “I know many of you were bewildered and appalled by the octopus, but you must appreciate all creatures beneath Ulen’s gaze. Those who have missed today’s lesson may never be able to experience things as you have... it really is a shame.”
Nuraku nodded. The man taught very quick, brief, practical lessons. She also understood how some of the more haughty students who may have descended from nobility may have been avoiding the subject out of disgust. “Then I shall see you tomorrow,” said Nuraku. “Au revoir.”
“Au revoir, Nuraku,” said the professor.
