Completed The Face in the Mirror

[Jehu]

Jehu

Timestamp: 1st Day of Fall, 519 AV

Jehu and Buraga had completed the morning patrol before the rain, the two men making it back to the Commons as the first raindrops fell. The Chaktawe lingered in the Communal Kitchen as it rained. Nesra was there, seeking shelter from the rain as well. Jehu pulled out a bunch of ripe plantain that he had gathered on patrol, and offered to share them with Nesra if she was willing to fry some up. The girl seemed to subsist on a thread, never claiming land or establishing a home for herself outside of the free shelter offered in the Commons. She had a trade, and did her part by crafting pottery, so she wasn't without a form of income. Jehu never pried much into the girl's life, Nesra seemed reluctant to offer anything about herself. Seeing her reminded him that he wanted to show her the pottery his mother had made, that he had brought from the desert.

The rain lasted less than a bell, and having enjoyed breakfast with Nesra, and offering to show off his Chaktawe claywork sometime, Jehu set off back to his tent. He took up his spear and a couple stalks of bamboo he had gathered as well to make his own fishing spears, like he had seen Artik use. Arriving at his home, the desert man undressed. He had worn full clothing on patrol, as they had to travel into the jungle. But his shirt was now drenched, from sweat and the heavy humidity that fell after the rain. He hung his shirt and pants on a nail on one of the tent poles.

Stripped bare, Jehu tied a leather loincloth around his waist, gathered his kopis and hunting knives and carried the bamboo poles and and a handfull of supplies out to a large log he had dragged up near his fire circle, outside of the tent. Taking the first wooden stalk, he used the larger kopis blade to cleave the end of the pole, so that there were three separate grooves about four inches long. These would be separated out to be the fishing spears prongs. He worked the kopis, trying to wedge apart the shaft into the three prongs. He cut the sticks into some short lengths, and worked one down into the cuts to separate the prongs. But he pressed too hard and broke one of the prongs.

Starting over with the other pole, Jehu more carefully made the cuts and drove the pegs down to separate out the three prongs. Using a length of his thin rope, he lashed around the small pegs to ensure they stayed in place. Then he took his hunting knife and sharpened the three prongs to strong but sharp points. Setting his tools aside, Jehu hefted the light fishing spear, satisfied with his roughly crafted device. He looked forward to taking it to the river to try and snag some fish. Maybe Kamilla would want to give it a try also, though hunting and fishing were not her thing. He set his things aside to work on some chores.

Jehu took his ax and foraged through the fringe of the jungle for firewood. He gathered a good pile which he laid on a blanket, gathered at one end and tied tight with rope. Jehu pulled the rope to drag the wood back to his tent. Then he bundled up some and delivered some to his neighbor Uta. He passed Mathias as the Founder walked the path heading north back to the settlement center. He seemed in a bit of a hurry, his pack cinched up tight on his back. The two men exchanged a quick greeting and Jehu returned to finish his chores.


Having awakened before dawn to join Buraga on patrol, Jehu felt a need for a quick nap. He laid down inside his tent, stretching out on the pile of pillows that made up his bed. With the sea breeze blowing in through the open side of the tent, the Chaktawe soon fell fast asleep. When Akvin activated Mathias' curious globe, and the surge of power rippled through Skya, Jehu slumbered, unaware of the energy that had touched them all. Like the others, he had changed, even as he slept.

[Jehu]

Jehu

If Jehu napped, it was typically a short one. But not that day, not after the sphere was activated. The Chaktawe's sleep lingered for hours, but it was not restful. He was haunted by dreams so bizarre words would fail their description. Finally, after tossing and turning on the piled pillows, Jehu's consciousness touched wakefulness. At first, his eyes did not open, as he wrestled to get comfortable. He would turn one way or another, feeling as if something leathery wrapped around him, or something he was laying on. His skin felt different in a subtle but indescribable way. In the fog of waking, he wondered if he was sick, perhaps another tropical ailment like the jungle fever that plagued him through the summer.

Finally, his eyes opened. Sunlight had faded, and long shadows stretched from the palms outside, nearly blending with the coming dusk. How long had he slept?! Rising to sit up, something fell next to him, and his head snapped in the direction of the sound. It was his wing, knocking a cup off of a low side table.

His wing!!?

Instinctively, Jehu flexed muscles that felt normal but were unfamiliar, and broad, bat-like wings stretched out from his back, knocking over anything in their path. Jehu's mouth fell open, but the horror-stricken man could not make a single sound. He jumped up, banging his wings into a tent pole until he pulled them in close to him. It was when he craned his neck to examine the strange appendages that he saw his own arm and shoulder. They were blue, deep blue. He screamed, a hand reaching to touch his colored skin. That was when he realized it was more than skin. He was covered with a coat of thin, fine fur. It was silky, and light enough he could feel his own touch on the skin beneath.

He finally found his voice and a hoarse cry sounded, followed by a stream of Tawna questions and expletives spewed from the panicked man's lips as he stumbled out into the sand. He stammered about the beach, hollering in terror as his wings flapped and he stared at his arms and legs. Sharp talons adorned his fingers and he flexed them as he glared wide-eyed at them. The episode continued for several minutes, the cursed Chaktawe alternating between wailing and holding his head in his hands and repeating "Why? Why?"

Finally, he wore himself out, and he sat on the log outside of his tent. The sun was almost gone, and though his fire was not lit, Jehu could see perfectly fine. Taking a deep breath, he began to gather his wits. "I...am...a ...Zith." He muttered to himself. He had not seen one in person, but had heard tales of them, and saw a painting of one in Riverfall. They were wretched creatures who enslaved others...and ate them.

[Jehu]

Jehu

It was a nightmare, a poison plant or venomous snake, judgement of sin, wrath of a god. Jehu tortured his brain trying to explain his condition. He had crawled back into his tent, horrified that someone would see him. Buraga would probably kill him on sight, not knowing it was him. Jehu had seen no one since the event, fearful that others might see him and ignorant of the fact that he was far from alone in his transformation.

Only after night fell did he peer out of his tent, the walls tied down tightly. The stark panic and terror had waned, leaving abject vexation and utter confusion. He had examined his body further, finding the tufts of fur at his elbows and knees. Hesitantly lifting his loincloth, Jehu was relieved to see he was still male, and roughly still himself there, though the flesh was darker. He had rent apart a blanket with his talons, beyond hope of even Kam stitching back together. The claws scraped against everything, his fingers longer than his muscle memory knew, his brain used to performing tasks with a certain length of digit. He thought they might allow him to catch fish with his bare hands. He noted a twinge of appetite, specifically for meat. He was learning about his unusual body, but he had yet to explore the wings.

With only sparse starlight through shredded clouds, the night was virtually black. Yet Jehu could see as if the moon shone. One boon he had found in his bizarre body. One did not make it a good thing. Walking out to the beach, he looked for lights that might show someone near. With none in sight, he stretched out the inky black wings. They felt natural, as far as muscles went, which was strange because they were muscles he never had before. Jehu tested them, slowly letting them wave. Swirls of air moved swiftly around the appendages, and he could feel the power in them.

Letting his new instincts have some play, Jehu did what felt right. He beat the wings faster, until the sand lifted in a cloud around him. Harder, and he felt his heels lift from the ground. The Chaktawe Zith knew then that they were not just ornamental, they could lift him. With full effort, the wings beating steadily, Jehu's feet left the ground. It wasn't hard to do, his muscles easily keeping the membranous wings flapping rapidly. Then he eased the pace, and his feet settled again onto the sand.

He took a deep breath, trying to quiet the crazy screaming in his mind so that he could 'feel' his Zithness. It told him to run and flap. And Jehu did. After only a handful of strides, he lifted from the ground into the air. His body assumed a natural position, as he rose vertically. he could see the fire and lantern lights of Syka below. Then he rose higher, where a warm flow of air moved separate from that across the beach. Jehu then stretched out his wings to slower, deeper sweeps, and they carried him out over the water.

[Jehu]

Jehu

The feeling was surreal, part of him was awestruck. He was flying, seeing the world as he, and most people, never can. It was frightening and marvelous. Another part of Jehu found it so instinctive, allowing the ability of flight to come to him like second nature. When he felt at ease with the function of his wings, Jehu pushed his ability. Sharp turns and steep climbs, he noted the force of air as it affected the bat-like appendages. He foundered a few times, almost spiraling into the dark sea beneath, learning the hard way how warm rising air and cool down drafts affected his airworthiness.

Feeling a bit risky, Jehu climbed to a new height, then turned downward, folding his wings against is body. He plummeted like a rock. Building up speed faster than anticipated, he felt the limits of his muscles as he opened his wings to brake, the strain on them almost painful as he fluttered and wobbled just ten feet from the rolling waves. But he was learning the limits of his new horrible and wonderful wings.

The thrill of flight had masked the horror of his transformation. But as he hovered over the water, Jehu's gaze cast southward, to Treasure Point, where Kamilla's cave sat. His heart sank. What would she think? He was a monster, the symbol of a pyorrhea to most races. Jehu turned that way, gliding closer to where his friend lived. They had become close during the summer, when the grip of jungle fever had drawn them together with symptomatic attraction. But when the fever faded, his thoughts on Kam didn't. She was still beautiful and fascinating. Though, he couldn't let her see him, not like he was.

Jehu swooped near the mage's cave, unable to see her inside, and grateful for the veil of night. He wondered if that was how he would have to see her, hiding in the shadows, unable to speak to her, or even let her see him. He climbed higher, turning back towards his claim. How could he let anyone see him? Where could he go? Someone would look for him, Mathias, Buraga, he had duties, and not working was unacceptable for anyone in Syka. They would come to his tent. The jungle was too dangerous to hide in, he didn't know its perils enough yet to last long, though he felt he could hunt just as well, or even better, with his new form. He could see better, even at night, and hear better.

Descending before his tent, Jehu landed lightly in the sand, flexing his wings one more time before folding them behind him.

[Jehu]

Jehu

The maddening horror, desperation and acute vexation of his discovery had waned to curiosity and the need to learn more about his new body. Jehu walked along the beach. His feet were bared, the feel of the sand unchanged, though his steps felt somewhat different, for each toe had a claw curling from it. He looked down at his dark hand, examining the curved talon tipping each digit. They were sharp and solidly rooted in his bone and muscle. While it was difficult to form a fist, Jehu began to see the possible benefit of them. They would better his grip, able to dig into objects for firm hold. They were actually quite wicked, and the vision of eviscerating a vom or even a nandhai gave him new ideas about hunting.

A thought came to mind, and his tongue ran cautiously over his teeth. It was as he suspected. The tips felt sharper, the canines a bit longer. It only seemed right that the terrifying image of a Zith would have sharp, menacing teeth. He halted, looking down the beach and sighing. What was he to become? Would anyone beleive he was still Jehu, the same Chaktawe who had lived there for a season? He wondered how much he looked like himself.

Turning towards his tent, Jehu began to run, instinctively spreading his wings and beginning to flap them, lifting from the ground to fly just above the beach until he reached his home. Inside, he lit an oil lamp. He wanted to see his reflection, but he had no mirror. Digging through is crate, Jehu found a metal spoon. Quickly polishing it with a shirt, he knelt near the flickering lamp and lifted the back of the spoon to his face. Finding the right position, his visage came into view. It was distorted by the convex shape of the metal utensil, but Jehu could see enough. His skin was no longer coppery but a deep indigo. His eyes startled him. Though the irises were nearly black, he had whites. A grimace revealed somewhat human teeth, only sharper. But he still had the familiar features of his face, he was a macabre clone of himself.

A miserable sound bubbled in his throat and his heart sank. He was a monster. Cursed, certainly hated by the gods and bound to be hated by his friends and neighbors.

Why? WHY?

Jehu blew out the lamp, settled on his pillows and wrapped his wings around him. Maybe, just maybe, when dawn came, the nightmare would be over.

-END-