Minor Adjustments

Character sheet · by **Celeste Arumen** on August 29th, 2013, 4:44 pm

62nd Day of Summer, 513 AV

It was a fine day, thus far.

Celeste bounded alongside her Master, powerful limbs working to propel her onward, claws wedging into the dusty earth. She’d mastered a larger form just days earlier and the feeling of pride was immense. Her heart swelled with each stride as they patrolled the length and breadth the Prairie, nothing on the distant horizon. It was about a bell or so in however, that they stopped.

”Alright!” She said, sniffing around the dehydrated soil. ”This should do well enough.” The woman had chosen the shape of a snowy white wolf, one of Celeste’s personal favorites. She blinked, sitting back on her haunches. ”Do for what?” However, the question didn’t seem to connect. Instead, the wolf did more sniffing until she too, sat back to finally address her young prodigy.

”The other day, I taught you how to become bigger and how to morph on the fly. I see you’ve been practicing, too. Which is great!” The wolf narrowed her eyes to emulate a smile. ”Now, today, we’re going in the opposite direction. I’m going to teach you how to get smaller!”

Celeste shook her ears, slightly. ”Smaller?” She echoed. ”Like a cat?” Her voice sounded hopeful.

”Sure,” her Master replied, ”if that’s what you want. But first, let’s just work with what you know. Shift back to your normal size, first. Try to really stretch while you do it. Get that djed nice and limber!” Almost immediately, she sought to comply. Looking within, she admired the radiant weave of her djed, already separated into two independent bundles. Each thread was a direct gate to her very construction, ready to be pulled hither and yon, shaped and reshaped in whatever way she’d like. The elasticity was apparent and this pleased her. It was a testament to her hard work.

With careful hands, she reached out and to pulled at the strands, first identifying those of her limbs and spine. She drew them fast, tightening the tiny crackling fibers, pulling them in. Her spine cracked and popped, sending little shrieks of euphoria through her brain as if she were stretching over and over again. Likewise, each leg gave a little click as the bone moved inward upon it self.

”Tail, sweetie.” Riyana’s voice penetrated the dark curtain of her concentration. ”Don’t forget your tail!”

”Ah,” she replied softly, doing the same for her very last appendage. When she opened her eyes, she looked a bit sheepish. ”I don’t know why I can never remember it…” Riyana gave an echoing laugh. ”Because silly, you don’t have one normally. If you want to practice, morph yourself a tail and walk around with it.”

Celeste looked back in horror.

”I didn’t think so! Now, let’s get started.”

With ease, the Warden mimicked Celeste’s dog model to perfection. The morph was quick and fluid, each transition running into the next. It was truly a skill to be admired. ”I’m going to walk you through it. This is trickier, so be prepared. Subtracting djed is always harder than adding it.” Celeste nodded vigorously.

”Instead of pulling your djed outward, tighten it from within. It’s the same as you returning to your smaller form; visualize your djed becoming smaller in whatever way you choose.” Riyana flashed her a wolfish grin, but Celeste on the other hand, frowned. ”Wait – what do you mean? If I tighten my djed, wouldn’t it be the opposite of keeping it loose?”

”An interesting distinction!” Riyana exclaimed. ”Pretty sharp, cutie pie. Think of it this way; everyone perceives djed uniquely. The actual word ‘djed’ means ‘backbone’ in the ancient tongue. You tend to think of it as many threads in a big human carpet, right?” The young girl nodded, rapt. ”Well, some other Morphers think of it like clay. It makes concepts like smaller and larger a bit easier to deal with. In your case, it helps to remember that those threads are elastic. Stretchy! Even when you pull them tight, once released they still become looser, more flexible. Make sense?”

She nodded.

”So give it a try! You probably won’t get too much smaller the first time, but if you keep practicing each day, it will help. You can do it while running, too – that’ll keep you busy.” Riyana winked.

With a deep breath, she turned internal eyes toward the task at hand. Slowly and systematically, she worked to condense each strand, pulling the bundles tight in equal measure: first her ears, then her snout and spine, each transformation resulting in the same euphoria as earlier. There was something so insidious about morphing – the change brought as much physical gratification as it did mental. That, combined with Sweet Whispers, was enough to unman the novice wizard. But then again, Celeste had a good deal of practice to the contrary.

When she finished and looked to Riyana, her eyes were concerned.

”Good. You’re a bit smaller. Maybe an inch or so… In some places.” Celeste blinked. ”What do you..”

Gods. She’d made herself lopsided! In that moment, Riyana let out a barking laugh that echoed across the Testing Grounds and from there, couldn’t help but simply dissolve into full on hysterics.

”It’s not funny,” she said, cheeks burning beneath the fur.

”I’m sorry sweetheart,” she gasped, still laughing. ”Practice is all you need. Just practice.”

Character sheet · by **Celeste Arumen** on November 1st, 2013, 12:28 am

64th Day of Summer, 513 AV

So practice she did. Before she would try it running however, she needed to master it while still. Celeste sat alone at the border of the Prairie, having run a few different patrols before declaring it temporarily safe. She sat against the desolate earth, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Turning to peer at the separate halves of her soul was easy; now she could readily identify each individual part by name and attempt to alter it. Celeste no longer struggled with guesswork, continuous trial and error. But now, after having mastered this form she had to dig deeper, push further and that required her to try again and again.

Determined, she did as before, but this time instead of attempting to impose a uniform standard, she addressed each part of her as it came. She shortened her spine less so than her legs and yet her snout and ears in equal measure. Again, she forgot her tail until she realized that it brushed the ground. It was such an errant appendage sometimes and yet, so necessary. Her bones tightened with an alien pressure, crackling as they had days passed and she shivered against the feeling. This time, she thought to herself, she’d get it right.

In all honesty, she didn’t feel much smaller. Perhaps an inch or two, as Riyana had said. Everything seemed to be in order, though as far as proportion went. There were likely a few things off-key, but those details would have to wait. For now, she’d see how far she could go.

It was time to plot, then. First, to set a goal: perhaps overall, to be a foot smaller? She’d do it in baby steps, morph back and then see if she couldn’t do it again without overexerting herself. Celeste desperately wanted to please her mentor, the woman who kept her as family. Riyana had treated her so well, the least she could possibly do, would be to try her best.

So she looked inside for strength and tried again.

This time the tightening nearly hurt. As the threads shrank and grew small, an alien pressure compacted her bones, clicking replaced by what felt like the surface of a giant weight. It took a good deal of effort to keep the threads taut too, and with each adjustment she felt tired. She applied the same formula again until each was satisfactorily brief. This time, the difference was acute. Had she achieved her goal? The model was at least one head shorter.

And then there was the temptation to go further. What if she could become two feet tall, maybe smaller? But what about her organs and what dwelt within? Could they abide such a size or would she begin to cause herself physical harm? It was uncharted territory and she felt herself quickly becoming drained.

”I can’t,” she said. Not because it was beyond her capability, but because it was wrong. Again and again, mages were faced with a choice. It would do no good to overgive now, especially amongst a Citadel full of those who would harm her. So instead she very gently let go of the hold on her compact form, allowing the strands to loosen back the way they once were made. Not the dog form, either. Celeste knew perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy this time around. Practice, Riyana had said. So practice she would, in a way that would avoid causing injury.

It was better this way.

Character sheet · by **Celeste Arumen** on November 2nd, 2013, 3:06 pm

78th Day of Summer, 513 AV

Down and back again. Small, then large. Celeste repeated the process as many times as she could without straining. She would push an inch or so, then allow her djed to regroup. The next time she sank into transformation, she’d go even further. The more she tampered with the elasticity of her djed, the easier it was to alter, like Riyana’s analogy with clay. But she knew that she wouldn’t always have the convenience of stress driving her onward, not like the first time. This wouldn’t come easy – this was simply, work.

And some days, Celeste didn’t feel like even getting off her cot. Her bones ached from growing taller and in conjunction with all the alteration, it felt much like wiggling a loose tooth. Everything was sore, at times and all her studying of Nader-canoch made her head feel like it was jammed with wool. Worst of all, she barely even saw her mentor. Riyana helped when she could and was pleased with her success, but couldn’t always be there to support her.

It was one such day that they were doing patrols, when Riyana stopped.

”What’s wrong?” Celeste asked immediately. The Warden, currently in the shape of a brightly colored leopard, stopped to look back at her pupil. ”Celie,” she said gently, stalking back over to her prodigy. ”I think it is time that you worked on something else.” The girl blinked. ”Huh?”

”I mean, you’re running like you’re recently been awakened from the dead. If you can’t keep alert, you can’t do your job.” Now that hurt. Riyana had a way of making you feel guilty, in a very pragmatic sort of way. ”I know you’ve been pushing really hard with your studies and I’m glad.” She brushed against Celeste’s shoulder. ”Maybe you should start work on a new model.”

A new model. ”But I’ve never learned how to be anything but a dog before.” She frowned. ”That’s right,” Riyana said quickly after. ”The anatomy of a dog is something you already know. But the skilled Morpher knows many different anatomies and further, how to study and memorize them in an efficient way.” She gestured out suddenly to the lands around them.

”There are creatures here that you can learn from. They have features that you can make your own, but only if you learn how to do it. I think it is time I taught you how – how to make a study and then how to replicate that study once it’s complete.” Celeste nodded, albeit wearily. She wanted to learn quickly and perhaps the repetition was slowing her, in the end.

”Okay,” she replied.

They traveled back to the Citadel in order to collect the materials necessary: two sheets of parchment, a quill, some ink and some clothes. Riyana would be the subject and Celeste would watch and record. They then walked up the Riyana’s “lab” which in reality was more akin to a bedroom than a lab.

”So,” Riyana began brightly. ”You mentioned something about a cat, huh?” The young prodigy nodded, eyes wild. ”I figure since you’ve done pretty well with the shrinking, we can teach you a feline shape that isn’t too small. How about this?”

The woman took a step forward and in just a chime, her body shuddered down into the shape of a lynx. It was a beautiful shade of russet and brown, dappled with little spots and tufted ears. ”This shape will be useful because it is only just a size or two smaller than your original mass. It’s also very effective along the lines of stealth, provided you don’t get caught with your pants down.” She winked and of course, Celeste laughed.

”So this is what you’ll do. I’m going to do a lot of stalking around the room while you memorize my form. Draw a little diagram and then record the measurements. Stuff like the length of my tail and ears, the shape of my snout, everything. Write down every little detail. It’s all important. As for the internal aspects, things are relatively the same as being a dog, just smaller. Everything should be in relation to one another. Make sense?”

Celeste nodded. ”Now, there’ll be times in the future where the creatures you study will be different, so different that you’ll have to really know them before you try to learn their model. You’ll have to do this and more. There are books that describe what things look like on the inside. And once you get a better handle on the ancient tongue, you use them.” That was helpful, too. Not everything was created equal. It didn’t take a genius to understand that.

”Now! Let’s get started!”

’Lynx Model,’ Celeste wrote in her cramped lettering. ’Measurements and proportions.’

Character sheet · by **Celeste Arumen** on November 2nd, 2013, 5:00 pm

The actual drawing was a very loose representation of the animal – Celeste didn’t have much talent in the realm of artistry – but it worked well enough for what it was designed. She estimated it at maybe seventy or so pounds, it being only slightly smaller than her other form.

’Tufted ears, bobbed tail, webbed and furred toes for colder climates. Rounded paws. Thick fur.’ She made note that her fur was different, too; the consistency was softer, fuller than the bristled shag of her dog model. She studied each and every detail – thin feline pupils, lantern eyes, sensory whiskers, facial shape, spine length and tail. Before long she had each recorded best she could.

”Once you think you’ve got it all, try to emulate my shape.” Riyana sat down, stumpy little tail swaying back and forth. Celeste scratched in a few more details, then stared down at the sheaf of parchment between her hands. This would be the first time she really left her comfort zone. After a second or more she finally exhaled, stood and removed her robe. ”Okay. I think I’m ready,” she said.

Slowly, she closed her eyes. The shine of her djed was radiant as always, active and surging with life. Deftly she sorted the physical from the mental, each shining strand shifting with ease until she had them in two separate stacks, easily distinguished from one another. That was the easy part. However, what came next would be distinctly different from anything she ever tried.

Grams would always say, if a task looks daunting, just start from the beginning. Take everything step by step, the first of which being altering each strand. Celeste evaluated the length of her spine and attempted to make each vertebrae thicker, shortening the bone while pulling it outward, reinforcing the internal matter with phantom hands. Meanwhile, she fell into the comfortable position of a quadraped, pulling her knees backwards with a snap. The overall sensation was a deep, dull ache of pressure, djed complying readily to each command, molding outward as she saw fit.

Next, focused on forming the paws, fingers skeletal and sharp rather than round and full. Were there four on the front and five on the back or was it the other way around? Celeste sighed. It wouldn’t do to pause in the middle of a transformation.

She plowed on, trying to shape the composition of her snout outward, making it broad and flat as opposed to the long, sharp nose of a canine. The strands of silken djed complied again, this time eagerly. She shaped them as round and flat, waving lines, contrasted with the sharp and linear lines of the dog. The cartilage itched as it shifted into place and she wiggled her new nose in irritation.

Finally, she attached the tail, making sure it was in line with the base of her spine, matching the thickness yet reducing the length. It was short and curved down, not at all like the tail of her other form that curved like a cutlass toward the sky. Once everything seemed adequately positioned, she then focused on growing fur.

On the fringes of the weave hid the skeins of her human hair, uniquely situated by type and length; the hair upon her head was far different than say, the hair of her arms and legs. Celeste first unified the energy, pulling certain strands short while keeping others long until she had hair all over her body. Her pores tickled and pinched, urging her to scratch at the irritated skin. But she couldn’t break her concentration.

Finally, she tried to replicate the soft, velvety fur of the lynx. The color was solid rather than the beautiful dappling of Riyana’s coat, but the details would take time. This was a whole new game to play. Celeste stretched languidly and wheeled to face her teacher, who observed her gravely in turn.

”How’d I do?” She asked.

”Well, first of all, your eyes are still human eyes.” Whoops. Celeste reached within to adjust the complex weave of her eyes, unraveling and reshaping it to the reflective orbs of a cat – or at least, how she saw them to be.

”Now?” Celeste looked hopeful. ”Better?”

Her mentor sighed. ”You look… Well, here.” Just as seamlessly as she’d shifted into the lynx, she moved right back out of it. In a chime, the Warden stood in her human seeming, rifling through a nearby chest before producing a mirror. ”Look at yourself,” she said, holding it up for the girl to see.

Her heart sank. She looked like her diagram, alright – too precisely. She was a caricature of a cat rather than a real one. Everything was as she’d thought it to be, but not how it was in reality. How did she ever even get the first model right? A sense of despair began to plague her.

”Oh don’t look like that,” her mentor said with a smile. ”No one does well on the first try. You did better than most, I’ll give you that, but you don’t seem to have a strong grasp of actual anatomy. Tell me; how did you get to where you are with your current model?”

The girl stopped to really consider it. She’d never been asked that before. ”Daisy was my friend,” she began. ”I spent most of my time trying to copy her, because I thought I might be able to talk with her if I could. Of course, just because you look like an animal doesn’t mean you are one. But I tried and tried, using a mirror until I knew I looked just like her.”

”So it was just a matter of trial and error, right?”

Celeste sniffed. ”I guess you’re right.” The Warden beamed. ”Of course I am! You’re going to be great. You just have to keep trying, is all, until you get it right. The first step is altering every little thing until you nail it. Now, you have the basic shape right, but you don’t seem to know anything about the structure of the paws or any of the other faculties, for that matter. Remember, the most important things are the sensory organs. Do those improperly and you get none of the benefit of being an animal.”

Character sheet · by **Celeste Arumen** on November 3rd, 2013, 8:31 pm

”So first, you need throw away everything you think you know about cats. Absolutely everything. Cats starve faster than dogs, for one, but need less water. Their claws retract, where dogs wear theirs out all the time. Another thing – cats have fewer teeth. You still have about forty some teeth from what I can see, where cats actually have about thirty.” Celeste scrambled to make note of what Riyana was saying.

”Should I be writing this down?” Her mentor just laughed.

”Let’s try making these adjustments one step at a time. Feel it in your body first, then we can go back over it later so you won’t forget.” The Warden bared her perfect set of teeth as an illustration. Looking within, the young girl searched for the composition of her teeth. The djed was slightly different in that fashion, royal purple and gold shimmering menacingly with a broad and predatory slant. She attempted to emulate what she saw - the shorter, thicker teeth with wider jaws - jaws for piercing rather than crushing.

”Good!” Riyana seemed pleased. ”I think I understand now. You learn everything by sight. I should have known. You were primarily self-taught, after all.” That was something the woman had known before, though how to approach it was a different matter altogether. Celeste was a street urchin, not some highborn Zeltivan mage. It would be difficult to explain the theory without the visual to accompany it.

”I get it. So here is what we’ll do. How about we keep it up this way: me showing you the differences, then explaining why – and you mimicking me best you can? That way, you can feel the adjustments and know them intuitively.” Now, that was something she could work with. ”Okay,” Celeste said quickly, bearing her brand new teeth in reply.

So that was the way it went. First, Riyana demonstrated the differences in musculature. Cats were meant to ambush and spring, not to run long distance in the way of the dog. Celeste’s muscles felt peculiar during the shift, rolling beneath the skin. It was almost akin to a cramp but not quite, like the beginnings of one before the pain truly took hold.

Next, it was the manner of her eyes. Cats had a reflective surface beneath their retina that sent light back through their eyes. Celeste could see in the dark if she truly understood. Before long, she quickly she realized how little she knew of the true nature of the world. Things influenced other things just as readily as action and consequence. Even the composition of an animal influenced just what they could do or were even capable of. It seemed like common sense and perhaps she had always known it, somewhere. But Celeste was primarily intuitive so this was an entirely new revelation. It was a formula on how to perceive the world, so she’d understand things more easily.

”Finally, you have to learn how to color yourself. That’s the easy part,” her mentor said with a laugh. Her coat shifted through a multitude of different patterns and shades all together - beautiful black dappling to thick, full and gray. ”There are many lynx in the world – none here of course – but among the glaciers of Taldera they look different than say, the mountains of Kalea.”

Celeste was truly beginning to understand.

”None here,” the girl echoed. ”There really aren’t many animals here, other than failbeasts, right?” She sounded sad. The Warden nodded. ”You won’t find much to study other than that. But failbeasts aren’t always failed because they’re inadequate.” It seemed there was something else on the woman’s mind. She sat back and licked absently at her ruff. ”What do you mean?”

”Sometimes the maggot-heads make things too well.” It seemed she didn’t feel compelled to say much else. ”Sometimes, they make things so well that those things would destroy the whole island, if they could. That’s our true purpose.” She sighed and it was the sound of resignation. ”Those deadies could deal with the problems we deal with just as easily. The truth is, they put us out here because they want us to die. The Nuit make things beyond them sometimes. If we defeat those things, then they get to live. If we die, they get to laugh at our destruction. In the end, we can never succeed so long as we play by the rules we’ve been given.”

Celeste understood it all in that moment. Every last detail of their situation.

”Did they goad you into dishonoring yourself? Make you do what you did, or set you up to do it, because they knew you were talented enough to succeed where others couldn’t?”

Riyana froze. It was the key to an ancient, rusted-over lock. ”Maybe. That’s a tale for another time, though. All I can say is: don’t do that. I chose you because you’re smarter than you look. Just remember that looking is part of the whole thing.”

They underestimated her, then. It all made sense. Celeste had been chosen to do something remarkable, something Riyana could not do. She had been chosen to reclaim the Citadel, to perhaps incorporate humanity into an otherwise cold and hostile world. And it would cost her, in a way for Riyana, it had not. If she were to win with the Nuit, she’d have to play by their rules as well as her own. And it would make her almost one of them, but not quite. That part of her that remained human – it was the most important. It would be her redemption. It had to be protected at all costs.

”You alright?” The silence was palpable. She’d fallen into deep thought.

”I’m sorry,” she apologized. This was a task all her own. Never had Celeste ever believed that an adult would ever help her. So she said nothing, even when there was evidence to the contrary.

”Here.” She focused inward on the sense of self, that which was her truest being. The merry djed of her color was a blank slate, reflecting nothing and everything, long thin lines of just pure matter, untainted by detail or complexity. It made her feel as an artist looking into the face of a truly blank slate. She could adorn it in any way she chose. Very slowly she pulled outward, linear lines for the dappling, interchanging kinks with curves, sharp angles of black and waves of loose red-brown. When her auric eyes next opened, she stared into a mirror, her Master looking back wisely.

”I couldn’t have done better,” Riyana said suddenly, tears in her eyes. ”I couldn’t have picked better if I tried.”

Celeste looked left, to where the true mirror had been. She trotted over to that bedside, teeth wrapping the handle to gently pull it to the floor. It clattered with a nerve-jangling ring, but remained whole. Cats weren’t really meant to carry things.

”Wow,” she breathed. The reflection could have very well been Riyana.

”Do you feel tired?” She wheeled to face her Mentor. The woman looked soft, filled with maternal love and a peppering of concern. ”I’m okay,” she replied, even thought she was tired. It felt good, again like wiggling a sore tooth, or picking at a scab. The exertion felt good; it urged her to keep going.

”If you feel up to it, shift out and then back. In order to master something, you’ve got to push further.” Celeste sighed. She released the form immediately. Grams had always berated her on being errant, lazy. She always told her to push further. But Celeste never had. She resisted the old woman to a fault, mouth set mulishly, eyes dead and uncomprehending. But not now. Now, she had someone who believed in her.

Her djed replied wearily. It crept back into place, almost looking for what she’d once been, as if it couldn’t quite remember anymore. Was she a girl? A boy? A dog or a cat? Even Celeste could barely remember. Normal girls spent their lives preoccupied with the shape of their nose or the curve of their hips. Celeste focused on the external – what did this lynx look like? How did Daisy run when she tore down the street? She cared not for her own looks. They were as mutable as the wind.

”Sweetie,” Riyana said softly. ”Are you sure you don’t need rest?”

She really was tired, too. The kind of tired that made you sleep for days. ”Maybe,” she hedged, suddenly sitting on the edge of the bed. ”I’m sorry,” she replied. ”I didn’t realize it until now.”

Riyana shook her head. ”I can tell. Look – those feces-for-brains Nuit won’t ever give you a break, but I will. That’s why I’m here. You’re my family. You need to respect your limits.” She looked so sweet, so caring in that instant.

But Celeste didn’t want to do that, anymore. Those same limits were driving her crazy! ”How can you even say that I’m any good when I’m so limited?!” Was it the exhaustion? Or something more? Celeste nearly cried. ”I try and try and try, but I’m never any better! How can you say I’m special? All I want is to be like you!”
But Riyana just smiled.

”Sweetheart, you will be. Once upon a time, I couldn’t even change the color of my hair. But you’re twice as young as I was and you can do so much more. By the time you’re my age, you’ll be saving the world. You just need to take every day one step at a time.” She smoothed Celeste’s tawny hair with an open palm – she’d shifted back almost instantly.

”You know, you’re still an initiate, too. You have to balance your two responsibilities. You can’t just be my apprentice; you’re also my back up. I can’t have you falling asleep out there. We could all get killed.” That made sense. Celeste didn’t want to be weak. She didn’t want to let her Master down.

”I’m not weak, am I?”

Riyana cupped her cheek with a smile. Her hair was white and her eyes were green – she looked almost like a Konti, those women from Mura. ”No sweetiepie, you’re not weak.” That was an acceptable answer. Perhaps when Riyana said it, it was something she could believe. Maybe when you really found something to fight for, you could take each battle one day at a time.

So sleepily, she lay down.

”I’ll practice some more,” she murmured. Her brain was already plunging her into those incoherent whorls of color and light that lived at the start of dreaming. Nysel was there, calling her toward his domain.

”Good night, little Celie.”

Just some minor adjustments. That was all it was.