What lay before my eyes shouldn't be here. How? I plucked the chain off the ground and brought the medallion to my eyes.

It was made from multiple metals like the British £2 coin. Multiple dial like notches lined the circular surface. Ornate arrows pointed towards various values, but all the details were only embossed in the multicoloured metallic surface. No mechanical parts could be found. Is this real?

Turning the thing over in my hand I felt its weight and warmth from my own body heat. It certainly felt real. But this was from my dream. A chill spread down my spine as I began to feel the weight of the meaning behind its presence here.

While watching one side one of the arrows shifted. Or perhaps I should call it a hand. As it reminded me of the hands on a clock, ticking away towards an event indicated along the circle. The bottom of the medallion had a solid bar, hinting at the approach of... something. My intuition screamed that it was approaching my return to that world.

A rapid beat played in my chest. Was it excitement or anxiety? Wait, deep breaths. Taking a lung full of musky air from my stuffy room wasn't the best idea. I trudged over to the window and flung it open.

A cool clear breeze entered the room and I took in one lung full after another. It refreshed my mind a little. The sounds of the city enter my ears and it centres me a little. I managed to calm down.

So, is this happening? Is this real. The solid lump of metal still in my hand says Yes. Can I hope it is? Should I? The events which I couldn't really place at any particular time played through my mind. It was alien yet filled with the promise of novelty and discovery. I felt almost childish as thoughts of exploring that spooky place itched to be realised.

I brought the medallion back into view. The hand approached ever closer to the indicated region. As long as I wear this, it should be inevitable. And if I was right it would most likely happen tonight. While I slept. I remember seeing it on the other side of the bar, but the region was a different size. What was the meaning behind that? Why are my memories so clear?

My mind wanders back through the day and I realise that I sorta already knew it was there all along. There had just never been a point at which it had appeared. I felt the weight around my neck and ignored it. I heard the subtle clang of metal as I knocked it and I ignored it. Because it had always been there. Because it was supposed to be there. Creepy. I shivered at the implication.

The only reason I noticed it when I did was that the noise came from somewhere I didn't expect. A strange wrongness filled me while it wasn't around my neck. Is this thing cursed or something? But no, I couldn't really settle on that conclusion, unless it was a deliberate curse for convenience sake. Can't say I know much about curses... yet. It most likely gave me this feeling as a sort of warning. Lose me and you won't return to the Academy. Was what I felt it was telling me.

So what do I do now? Just wait? Closing the window I considered my non options. I already knew what I was going to do, curiosity did kill the cat after all. Even if was inadvisable I found myself drawn back to that place. The only other option would be throwing this away, even then that may anger the administration of that place.

I shuck off my clothes and decided to get a cold shower. Leaving the medallion on even while I stood under the cool water. It still felt right to keep it on. This thing is never leaving me. Steeling myself for a strange relationship with my eldritch accessory a small grin spread across my face.

This was something special. My secret from the world. Or perhaps the start of a full blown hallucination.

Squeaking the shower off I dried myself and got ready for bed at long last. Yet as I collapse back into bed, I'm wide awake aren't I. My anxious heart beat away in my chest. I feel a little silly getting so wound up because of a little medallion. But it couldn't have come from anywhere else. I didn't remember having such a medallion.

Time ticked away. My breath became shallower. Anxiety slipped away. My eyes began to flutter closed as sleep seemed to be near...

I took a big breath. Filling my lungs with a gulp full of air. Stretching my limbs I noticed I wasn't laying down anymore. When did I... no wait!

With a start my blurry eyes snapped into focus. I'm back. My new slight body fidgets in place. The echoey reception hall was as dim as ever. Yet this time it wasn't so empty.

A number of still forms were outlined around the room. Some seemed out of focus, others coalesced into more solid forms before my eyes. Then they slowly filled in. I had to look away as flesh and organs slop into place through some guys transparent form. Forcing down the shudder I glanced back up. Their clothes seem to weave themselves into place and then they awaken.

Didn't really see anything I shouldn't have thankfully, unless you count the organs I glimpsed. The threads o there forming outfits obscured the form at the point they were mostly complete. Good to know I wouldn't be naked, as such, as I came into being. But seeing how the process worked filled me with a little dread. That's not natural. Not at all. Can't say I wanted anyone to see my internal anatomy either but was better than nothing.

I placed a hand on my chest to calm my beating heart, only to find an unexpected soft response. Whoa, OK, forgot I had those. My hand snapped back down to my lap. I watched as people filtered out of the hall. Some of them seemed to stop by the receptionist first however to get their hand stamped.

So, step one complete. I'm back. Looking at the back of my palm I caught the magic stamp slowly fade away into motes of light. Need a new one of them, apparently.

As always the receptionist was busy completing paper work. One hand idly grasped the stamp and delivered a hearty thwack as people came by. I could see some of them shake off the pain as they carried on their merry way. I stood and wandered to the back of the small queue waiting to be stamped.

"Em, excuse me..." A rather timid tentacle creature produced a slimy appendage from his cloak. "Which limb do I..."

Thwack. Stamp. "Next." She announced with that little hint of impatience. Your in the way, move along. I heard the unsaid words as clear as day.

That was a rather human reaction... Even though they don't share hardly any anatomy with me I seemed to be able to read their expressions and tone of voice just fine. Just like I can understand them even when no two languages seems to have been the same so far.

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He shuffled away in a rather hurried slither, cupping the tender facial tentacle she'd assaulted. His other facial tentacles seem to droop that little bit lower in disappointment. Gulp. Stepping over the trail of slime I approached the reception desk.

I reached out an arm. Bracing myself I waited for the sting of impact. Pat. Stamp. Huh? Glancing up she showed me a grin.

"Made it back I see." Showing a completely different attitude to the other students she greeted me.

Why does she treat me differently? I pondered. "Uh, yeah." I found myself playing with the soft petals of my tail. The feeling was a calming fuzzy softness that was a bit addictive. "Em, mind if I ask a couple of questions?"

"Sure, what can I help you with?" She agreed.

Students passed by me, her arm whips out stamping the ones who needed it without even looking their direction. I found myself scooting to the side so that they can get by easier. But also because I'm still not comfortable with their alien physiology. Some are still too creepy, but surprisingly many are closer to human than I expected.

"So." I count on my fingers, marking off my first question. "Ah, I never caught your name last time." I asked blushing slightly.

"You can call me Scribe." She answers, but the answer catches me off guard. Did I hear that right?

"Scribe? As in someone who copies documents?"

"Hm? That will do." She nods, but I don't get the feeling I said it right. "And what would the little misses name be?"

"Ah, em, my names Mel..." At first I think of my full name Melvin but I can't tell her that. That's most certainly a guys name. Melanie then?

"Hm? Gentle? It suits you." Thwack. She responds while giving another student a bruise.

Gentle? That's not what I said. "Ah, yeah. I also wanted to know a little more about this." I held up the medallion. Ignoring the inconsistency with names. I felt like I'll needed to mull over that later.

"Ah yes. Don't play with that too much. It will be vital in a number of ways during your time here. That's not a toy." She admonished. But I get the feeling its directed at the great many students who have misused it in the past rather than me personally. I simply nodded.

She takes the medallion and flips it over showing the clock face from before. I see that the small region at the bottom has expanded and the hand points just after the first region. The larger region is now split into three with additional markings in each. "This is your schedule. Make sure to get to class on time. You'll only be harming your own education if you miss it."

She proceeds to point out the symbols and explains my up coming free period before the general class. Everyone gets a little time to walk from class to class and sort out any errands they have. But they are larger just after admittance as they know people like to look around a little before studying becomes centre concern. Over time it will shorten until it stays at a reasonable period to move about.

In the centre of the time piece is a numeral. It shows how many cycles I've been at the Academy. It was showing a one or at least what the translation magic informs me was a one. She informed me that the number would only be an approximation when you'd been here long enough.

Turning the coin over she displayed a similar setup except this one had ever contracting notches counting from 1 to 9. Two hands were displayed on the face and two numbers decorated the centre. However one hand looped in on itself and didn't touch the outer rim where the notches were displayed.

"This side displays your point and credit balance. The centre displays the magnitude of the score and the hand indicates the amount within that magnitude."

She points to the hand raised towards the one digit at the top. "This hand is pointing to the one digit." The pointing to the number two with a filled in circle next to it. "The two represents magnitude 2 or 100 times. In other words you have 100 points. If it was 1 you'd have 10 points. If the hand pointed to 5 instead you'd have 500 points. Understand?"

I nodded slowly. It's a logarithmic scale. "So between 1 and 2 I'd have somewhere between 100 and 200 points then?" So every turn around the circle multiplies the digit around around the edge by another 10. The number in the centre indicates how many times around you've been.

She nods before pointing at the zero next to the hollow circle and its corresponding curled up arrow. "This is your credits. And since you have non the hand can't display the value. Understood?"

"Yeah, but what can I use them for? Whats the difference between credits and points?"

She drops the medallion back into my hand. Her expression becomes thin as she explains in a clipped manner. "Points are your life line. Credits are mere pocket change. If you see a price within the Academy and it can be paid in points or credits. Always use credits." She returns to her previous mood, satisfied she's delivered the message sufficiently well. "Not even teachers would be able to bring a student back when they've reach zero points."

Waving an arm around the empty reception she continues. "You soon find out what you can spend those points on, but its mainly lessons and access to study material you'll use it on. Now be off with you. Go explore and then follow the signs well before your first lesson begins." She shoes me away.

"Ah wait, one last question..." I hedge before she turns back to her work. "Do you... do you know where the nearest mirror is?"

"Haha, you vain sprout. That way. Now shoo!" She shoos me down a corridor and I replace the medallion around my neck while I wave her a goodbye. I'm almost tempted to stick my tongue out at her, but something feels slightly wrong in that area. Need to check that out too. But also... why she treats me so different?

Shaking the doubts from my mind I follow her directions. It doesn't take long to see the reflective surface which encompasses an entire section of wall. The light along the corridor is brighter than in the reception and my heart rate picks up as I approach the mirror.

A young girl walks into view. Or perhaps a young woman? She has a petite figure, she's cute, especially the nervous glances she throws towards her own image. I can hardly relate to the image in front of me. Yet it moves entirely in sync. A strange connection with the image echos with even the slightest movement. This is me?

Yet it isn't only the familiar features that are displayed. It's the devils horns that form a crown around my head. Starting from the back they curve round hugging my skull at a fingers width distance. Not quite meeting in the middle they look almost like a small halo. But their made of pale pastel blue petals. The petals flow back down the horn and bloom at my scalp.

My hair is shoulder length and in a similar pastel pink colour. Dancing behind the lithe figure was a playful tail with matching fur and petals to my hair and horns. Except with the spiral like pattern of petals at the tip. Some bright cats eyes in the same shade as my horns fascinate with their gem like appearance. A small nose and pert pink lips complete the picture of a ephemeral beauty. Whoa.

It felt illicit. Especially if I had this body by accident. The expression of fascination melted away, replaced with a frown of concern. Am I really allowed this? What if the true owner becomes apparent.

Apart from the physiological the clothes I had been given were part of a standard set of robes every one seemed to wear. More form fitting than some of the other students but I'd lost interest in looking at myself in the mirror. A small seed of guilt was forming. And I wasn't sure whether I wanted to find out the truth or not.

Oh wait...

I reached up and grasped the end of my tongue. Giving it a tug it slides out, further and further. It only stops as it reaches about 8 inches from the confines of my mouth.

I stare.

The girl in the mirror stares back.

Well that ruins my image of her. Holy carp...