Frost 75th, 120
Sitting upon the table in the study hall, the pair of afflicted Rathor shared a long, bored stare. “I’m exhausted,” muttered Nuraku.
“Me too,” said the white-furred dog named Aeraku, slouching on the palm of his hand and scribbling lazily across a piece of parchment with a pen, wasting the ink. “Maybe it is perhaps the cycle of the moon robbing us of our sleep.”
“I’ve never used my magic so often, while having to learn things. Do these students ever get breaks?” Nuraku asked.
“Your itinerary has you slated for a two day break tomorrow. There will be no classes during that time. It is the same for me,” he sighed. “It cannot come sooner.”
“I am so glad to have you along, Aeraku,” mumbled Nuraku. “I cannot wait for this day to end.”
“Aye,” said Aeraku. “Shall we get today’s lesson over with? It’s quick, and simple.”
Nuraku nodded. “What are we covering?”
“The guttural ‘R’, or air,” said Aeraku. “It’s a noise you make in the back of your throat with a little dangly thing called the uvula. Most rathor don’t have one, so I had to think of an alternative, to make a similar noise.” Inhaling, he tilted his head. “Rrghue. Rue.”
“It’s a growled ‘R’?” questioned Nuraku.
“Not... quite. I still need to practice. The sound needs to vibrate in the top of your throat, but without those growled inflections. With a very subtle growl, perhaps we could both accomplish it,” said Aeraku.
“Rrrghue,” growled Nuraku.
“Rrrghu,” repeated Aeraku.
The pair repeated it to each other, trying to soften their growls. In time, they had a more subtle sound. “Hopefully this will suffice,” said Aeraku. “Rue.”
“Rue,” replied Nuraku. “I will await your opinion on the professor’s ear,” she told him. A quick glance up at the clock showed not too much time left before the next lecture. “Before I go--what should we do over the weekend?” she asked.
“Me? I’m going to sleep in. I am mortally tired, and my poor diet lends itself to a lack of energy,” said Nuraku. “And you?”
Nuraku tilted her head. “I might go hunting. Or flying. I haven’t seen the outside sky much in recent days, and it feels strange.”
“Mmh. That sounds lovely,” murmured Aeraku with a dance of the fingers to shoo her off. “Begone with you--your class is starting soon, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, au revoir” said Nuraku with a smile on those small weasel-lips. Tilting off the table, she dropped to the floor with a soft thud, landing on all fours and scurrying off.
“Au revoir” called Aeraku after her with a tired smile, picking up all of their studying materials and shuffling off to class.
---
Nuraku arrived at the menagerie, second-to-last. Every single student seemed to make it there on time, and at the request of a student several pillows had been set around in a semi-circle by the instructor this time. “This is more... homely,” mumbled Nuraku, claiming an entire pillow for herself as many of the other students had--a front row seat had been saved for her, given her small size.
The professor stretched his arms out wide. “Welcome, welcome. Today is my favorite lesson of the year, as always. It’s to do with electric eels. The fishermen call them heartstoppers for a reason.” Pulling closer a large gallon-sized jar to his side, the professor pulled on a pair of rubber-looking gloves as the students stared. He began to unscrew the lid, setting it aside and reaching in.
There was a splash as the creature inside splashed, its slimy, slender body flopping around in his grip. The little beast hissed, gasping for air as the professor drew it up and showed everyone. “These eels are some of the weakest known animals with emissions, or sections of anatomy that are too complex to normally integrate. It is important that you Imprint upon this animal, as our lessons in the coming days will be focused around harnessing this creature’s rather interesting ability.”
Smirking, the professor dropped the creature down into the jar, and the eel started pushing against his hand with its underside, as if strutting against him with a puffed-out chest. “The organs that deliver the shock are located generally in the underside. Today, you will be Imprinting, then Warging, then Molding into the eel.” Screwing the jar shut, he held it in his lap, folding his arms over it as the eel breathed with frustration.
The students each focused on the eel, Nuraku included. Her eyes peered over it, considering the animal. It’s like a snake, in a way. Seizing on the sense she garnered from it, Nuraku slowly formed the creature’s being within her mind, Imprinting a template as time went on. Before long, the professor looked over the stirring students. “Has everyone finished?”
A distant “yes” emerged from the crowd, followed by a series of agreements and nods from each of the students. Nuraku herself nodded repeatedly, ready to continue.
“This is very important,” began the instructor. “An eel can strike itself with that same energy. A Necromancer is on standby to assist you should your heart stop from such a shock. When you Warg, get a sense for how the eel orients its body to avoid coiling and thus shocking itself. Now Warg.” He held out the jar for the class, and each of them followed his instruction, staring with intent and reaching out to the newly imprinted animal.
Nuraku concentrated, finding the point of inception for her mind, and her conscious drifted forward into the mind of the animal. Soon she began to feel and see as it did, getting a sense for its still, trapped body in those tight confines. There was a dull thud as the lid unscrewed, and she could feel the animal’s panic as a big rubber glove descended and lifted it out once more, the eel wriggling, detonating hot spikes of tingling muscle along its anterior region to no avail.
The big, gloved hand dropped the eel into a larger tank, letting go. Fingers poked and prodded, getting its attention, infuriating it until the eel arched its body and swam chest-first at the instructor’s hand. Nuraku felt how the eel’s tail undulated and slithered rapidly through the water, creating propulsion, trying to rub its shocking organs against the enemy it now detested.
The area lit up with little light flashes, crackling noises filling the water as electricity discharged harmlessly into the rubber work glove. Before long, the hand released, fingers waving to indicate it was okay for the class to cease their trance.
Pulling her mind free from the connection, Nuraku found herself rousing up from a light nap, sitting back up with the experience still playing across her mind. She held her tongue while the other students made their remarks, and the professor commanded the attention of the class with a rising hand. “You will now one at a time Mold, and then discharge your electricity,” he said to the class. “This is important for the next lesson.”
Bringing everyone up the metal catwalk to the upper lip of the aquarium where there was a shallow pool for processing creatures, he motioned one by one for the students to disrobe, the class turning away to give them some modicum of privacy while they turned, slithered into the water, discharged their electric organ, and then slithered back up the ramp to begin Molding back into their usual body.
When it came time for Nuraku, she considered Embodying, but decided to conserve her aether. Hopping down the ramp, she paused at the edge of the water, then sighed, relaxing and beginning to don the guise of the electric eel she’d Imprinted on. Slowly, from moment to moment, her body began to shift, her fur receding to a slimy skin, her nose smoothing over to form a blunted snout, her body becoming narrow and finned. Slithering then into the water, she turned around and straightened herself out, before pushing forward and rising towards the surface with a flick of her tail sloshing her forward.
Belly-up, she flexed the organs on her chest and she felt the water tingle all around her as crackling noises reverberated through the shallow tank. Slithering back around, she rose against her own wake and swam up to the ramp, sliding out and beginning to transition back into her usual Ermine-Peacock chimera, those colorful tail feathers fanning out and shaking as she hopped up and joined the group, waiting for the rest of the class to finish their task.
When everyone was finished, the instructor brought Nuraku and the rest back down to the floor level. Many of the students looked weary, as if they were on the edge of Mageblight. The instructor clasped his hands together, looking over each of them with a studying gaze. “The next class shall take place in three days. Please take the opportunity to rest, and do not use your magic. We will be covering senior-level techniques that perhaps not all of you will be capable of demonstrating, but should learn about none-the-less for learning in your own leisure,” said the burly mage. “You are dismissed.”
Turning tail, Nuraku kept her head low. She was still feeling the mechanical, stuffy nature of this place she so disliked, but at least she was learning things.
