Tazrae was not a delicate sleeper. She was one of those exuberant deep sleepers who claimed the entire bed despite her words declaring he could have all the covers and she wouldn’t mind. She muttered and mused in her sleep, reflecting her internal dreams with external noises. The woman would have been mortified to know these things, but in her short life, only her great oaf of a dog who gave no such care of things and her Ixam who slept like a rock had noticed this fact.
When Alric joined her, there was no shyness to her slumber, nor did he seem to disturb her rest with his presence. Predictably, she did gravitate towards him and wrap herself around him as if the room they shared was far cooler than it was. And there was some truth to that, for the desert nights could be bitterly cold once the sun set. Though they had the fire to offset the drastic change and shutters drawn for the privacy of their late evening studies.
Taz slept with her face buried in the crook of his neck, unashamedly used his shoulder as a pillow, and drank in his scent like he was an anchor in some storm only known to her. He smelled amazingly pleasant to Tazrae’s sleeping form and reminded her of almonds and the hint of woodsmoke which was probably due to Sunberth. There was an underlying musky spice she couldn’t name that was all his own.
Weirdly, she loved the smell of fire and musk. Alric was coming to mean a lot to her and the more time she spent with him the less boundaries she attributed to their relationship. She would have been pleased to know he smelled fruit and flowers on her and an earthy tone beneath. For her one of her many secrets she’d yet to reveal to him – and to herself in many ways - was how much she loved the wilds, especially the jungle, and had come to see herself as part of that world far more than she belonged to any stone city humanity claimed.
But as was her way, Taz slept deep and fast, sprawled unashamedly in her relaxation and got enough sleep with not as many bells passing as many people needed. She woke slowly, a lazy smile spreading across her face when she recognized where and who she was with, and slowly slid from beneath the covers. She padded to the bathroom, used the privy, washed up, and frowned at the wreck of her hair in the mirror. She spent a few chimes brushing it punishingly until she had it tamed in a braid down the center of her head and on down the line of her spine. Then she stirred the fire, put the kettle on, and pulled out the bear claws she’d threatened Alric with the night before. They were made of two types of dough, folded and cut open and splayed out… the insides filled with cinnamon and sugar.
This was comfortable, here with him, and it had the utter feeling of security she would have never attributed to a city. She resisted the temptation to watch him sleep, knowing he wouldn’t like the vulnerability and how much younger he seemed to her lost in his sleep. Taz made up a cup of tea without bothering to dress and padded to the fire to open the Encyclopedia of Magic to the personal magic section.
She fanned the pages, falling on a random page and noticing a sketch of a man smiling with a snake’s fangs. She blinked a double-take, read the heading, and mused at its meaning. “Morphing….” It was some sort of transformation magic. This magic hadn't made her list with its brief description in the main list of personal magics. But she was fascinated the deeper she read.
She quickly read the overview and saw that it was a magic people could learn through study and meditation. Taking a sip of tea, she quietly read about how Morphing was some of the most ancient magic known to man and how it was known thusly by cave paintings of mages transforming into animals that were thousands of years old. Taz wondered how they knew how old such things were and how they could tell they were mages and not just Kelvics.
Feeling skeptical, she read on noting the encyclopedia said Morphing was older than magic and that it had been greatly refined from its early stages as a technique used to enhance fighting hand to hand. The reading material spoke of the mage's djed being used to change the mage’s physical structure. Such changes were undone after a period of time wherein the mage didn’t keep fueling the alteration or his attention was destroyed by distraction.
The magic was painless though it could be accompanied by sensations that were tactile. The book described how the changes weren’t instantaneous, but that they took a great deal of time and focus. Taz read about its limits as well, how it was organic and did not lend itself to changing flesh to metal or that total mass had to be preserved… especially in lower levels. Masters though, could transform into beasts of great size, changing the mass. It was dangerous, the book said, and yet as she read about the magic, it began to call to her in a way Taz didn’t rightly understand.
So, she drank her tea and thought about what she’d change on her body and how. A normal woman might have considered how to alter her form to make herself more attractive, such as pulling mass from her stomach to augment her chest. But such thoughts didn’t cross her mind. Tazrae instead looked at her nails and thought of how useful they could be as weapons in a pinch against enemies that caught her unarmed. So, she lifted her left hand, laid it over her right, and studied her well-groomed nails intently.
She thought of Bree and how her claws looked, thick and sharp, well able to rend flesh from bone. Taz had no such nails. Hers were thin and only extended slightly off her nail bed, trimmed neatly into squares that were functional in her working life. She imagined djed altering her nails and curiously tapped her well, drawing just a bit of power forward and letting it crawl from her center like a serpent up across her heart and out onto her limb. She felt the djed flow through her left arm and out into the tips of her fingers.
Tazrae could hear it sing in her blood, in her bone, and formed the sharp clear picture of Bree’s sapphire blue claws. Her nail bed darkened, deepening with the color of a darkening sky. They changed colors easily enough as Tazrae’s strong will imposed itself on the tips of her fingers. Taz simply didn’t believe she couldn’t do it and kept studying her fingers, willing the material of her nails to change. And slowly, like maple not wanting to ooze out of a maple tree on a cold winter day… they did.
Slowly her nails elongated, drawing raw material from her arm itself. The nails extended, thickened, and gleamed with an iridescent blue that was the exact same shade as Bree’s claws were. Taz watched, half fascinated and half a bit in incredulity, as they thickened, thickened again, and then doubled once more until she had long pointed and wicked claws instead of nails. Once she was done changing the nails, she kept concentrating on them, using her normal right hand to explore her now-clawed left hand and experiment with the weapons. There were moments she lost her concentration and the magic started to fail, but the moment Taz got a feel for the failing starting to come upon them, she was able to turn her attention back to the claws.
Playing with the sapphire-tipped digits would be how Alric found her. It would also lead to her explaining to him all she read in the encyclopedia about morphing and curiously awaiting his reaction.
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