Cassandra Pendragon

We followed a meandering path, past blacksmiths and butchers, carpenters and bakers, steadily moving away from the harbour. The “Gilded Dream” wasn’t as close to the cliffs as Richard’s tavern and the further away we got, the more sturdy and well kept the buildings appeared, but the throng of humans didn’t lessen. We had to dodge couriers and workers, families and beggars, all of the, staring after us, either with curiosity or lust, while wooden shacks and windswept houses slowly turned into clean homes of greyish granite and the overflowing gutter vanished underneath stone slabs, which even managed to suppress the offensive smell. Partly, at least.

Reia was captivated by the sights, as the traders and merchants, who kept to a less nocturnal schedule, opened their shops for the day, the intriguing smell of spices merging with the colourful sights of expensive cloths and shining weapons. Ahri had taken it upon herself to answer every question the kid came up with and the two of them were mostly rushing from one side of the road to the other, chatting and giggling like schoolgirls on an outing, but they never left my sight.

In the meantime, I focused on my connection to Viyara, the dragoness had reestablished the link when I had visited her earlier. Unfortunately, the lazy lizard was deeply asleep and it took me several minutes of constant, mental screaming to get her to open her eyes. I didn’t know what she and Aurelia had been up to, but she was sleeping the sleep of the just and wasn’t at all amused at my early intrusion. Grinning, I pointed out what conclusions one might arrive at, considering her behaviour. Surprisingly, that didn’t endear me to her any further and she almost severed the link.

I still managed to persuade her to look for Pete. He had mentioned that he knew Madame Sinis, even considered her a friend, in a way, and since we were headed for her establishment, his presence might come in handy. Grumpily, she promised to find and escort him, assuring me that she’d be there within the hour. Which left us with quite a bit of time on our hands. Time we could use, to indulge Reia’s curiosity. I, of course, wasn’t enamoured with the marvellous sights. If it had been up to me, I would have stoically waited somewhere hidden, out of the way…

A two storey building, with occupied cages behind barred windows, caught my attention. I thought of the winged snake, I was still carrying around in my stamp. Not even Mephisto had know what species it belonged to and maybe, just maybe, the owner of an exotic pet shop might be able to tell me, what I was dealing with. But that wasn’t all of it. My skin was tingling and I just felt like paying the small menagerie a visit. Maybe I had seen something strange, without realising.

While the others were investigating a smithy, two doors further down the road, I entered the dimly lit place. As soon as I opened the creaking door, a cacophony of noises, crowing, scratching, rustling and hissing, assaulted my ears and the earthy smell of wet fur and animal food wafted around my nose. There wasn’t much to see, though. The cages on display were hidden behind heavy, dark red curtains and not a single beast was visible. An oaken counter blocked the way deeper into the shop, its surface marred by uncounted accidents with fang and claw. In the back, I could just about make out a staircase that led to the basement and upper floors, its steps worn and old. A chandelier, sporting a handful of flickering candles, was the only source of light, the wavering flames emphasising the abandoned atmosphere.

“Hello,” I called out, my voice barely able to surpass the ruckus, coming from behind the curtains and the basement. “Is anybody here?”

“Just a mo’,” a gnarly, deep voice responded. “I’ll be with you in a second. Oh my, it’s not often I get customers this early in the day.” Before the last word had trailed off, the stairs creaked ominously and a sturdy leather boot appeared. A second later, an old human, about my size but with shoulders as wide as mountains and a considerable belly slowly made his way downstairs. He didn’t have much hair left and judging from the white, cataract filled eyes, he was blind as a mole. Apparently, it didn’t bother him, though. He nimbly took the stairs, two at a time, and before I had been able to fully take in his unusual appearance, he was wearing a wide, flowing, brown robe and a feathered, purple fedora, he already extended his hand, ready to welcome me.

When we shook, his voluminous lips spread in an honest smile, showing off an impressive amount of missing teeth. “Welcome, stranger, to “Zuma’s”, that’s me, by the way, “Menagerie”. What can I do for you? Are you interested in the fine specimen of our local populations or should it be something more exotic?”

“I… honestly, I didn’t come here to buy. I was hoping you’d be willing to help me out with a rare species I’ve encountered. I’ve never seen nor heard of something similar and I just thought…”

“Sure. Do you have it with you?” I shook my head, before I remembered that he couldn’t see. I shrugged helplessly and said:

“No, I don’t. But I could try to describe it. It’s about as long as your arm, a small snake with azure scales, bright as sapphires, and three sets of feathered wings. They’re attached at regular intervals, one set just behind the head, the second one close to its middle and the last near its tail. I think it’s a really old creature, maybe even magical and if I was to make a bet, I’d say it comes from somewhere around here. Not this island, exactly, but one close by.” He scratched his head and frowned.

“Hmm… maybe… I can’t say I know what you mean, from the top of my head, but for a small fee, I could let you have a look at my bestiaries. They aren’t of much use to me, anymore, but with a little luck, you might find a description of your mythical creature.”

“How does a gold coin sound,” I immediately asked.

“Oh, that’s plenty. Come along then and do try to stay away from the curtains, I haven’t had a chance to feed the rascals yet, and they’re a bit cranky. No reason to disturb them, before they had their breakfast.” He slouched off towards the counter and rummaged around in the shadows before he produced a heavy, leather bound volume, easily twice as large as my head. The smell of old parchment and dust welled up, when he heaved it onto the counter, one of his hands still firmly placed on top of it. He motioned with the other and I forked over the promised money. I had no idea how he actually knew that I was really handing over gold, but he seemed satisfied and pushed the book towards me.

“That’s Faera’s Almanac of Creatures. The most excessive compilation of different beasts, I know of. Go ahead, just skim through. I imagine your snake will either be listed with the magical creatures or the winged ones. If you can’t find it in here, there are a couple of other works I have in my basement, but they’re much more specialised and we might have to search for a while. With a little luck, it won’t be necessary, though.”

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As I carefully flicked through the aged and yellowed pages, I asked: “who was Faera?”

He chuckled. “I’ve never met her, I might be old, but not that old. I’ve only heard rumours. She was an elf, supposedly, and spent almost all of her time, after the first sky ship had been built, flying around and studying the fauna on every island she encountered. From bears to bats, from horses to hyenas, she wrote down every little detail. Where she encountered them, what she knew of them, if they were rare or common… whatever question you might have, as long as she stumbled across your species, your bound to find your answers in here.” I was only glancing at the pages, but judging from what I saw, he was right. Page after page, column after column, the behaviour and characteristic of every animal I could think of were meticulously documented. Some entries had obviously been used more than others, the ink barely visible under fingerprints and small cracks in the parchment, the amazingly detailed pictures of the beasts blurry and smudged. I would have loved to take my time and study every creature Faera had encountered, but I couldn’t imagine my host would appreciate me standing here, for hours on end. Regretfully, I flicked through the book until I saw the first depiction of a flying beast, some kind of bird with flame red feathers and a forked tail. I slowed down considerably, afterwards, making sure I wouldn’t skip a single page.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find what I was looking for. A few times, I thought I had it, but none of them had the feathered wings I so vividly remembered, nor the crystalline, azure scales. Shrugging, I leafed through the rest of the tome, searching for the entries on magical beasts. Near the end, about 50 pages were dedicated to the variety of paranormal animals Faera had known about and I simply had to read through a few of them. Especially the creatures, indigenous to the vast forests of the Emerald Island, caught my fancy, since we were going to go there, next.

The eponymous Emerald Bear, a giant but shy predator with a sparkling, green coat, gryphons, who nested on the highest mountain tops, their claws made of mana infused bone, the death viper, a minuscule snake, whose bite was poisonous enough to kill even one of the dire wolfs, stealthy monsters, who thrived in the shadows, below the ancient trees. Somewhere down the line Zuma left to feed his beasts. From the corner of my eye, I saw him open the curtains, a bucket with fresh meat in his hand. The noises became even worse, punctuated by ravenous cries. There was a cage, filled with slithering snakes, another one contained absurdly large spiders and a third, half filled with water, colourful toads. The giant bats, not nearly large enough to be ridden, but still impressively voluminous, were the worst, though. They still fit snugly into a cupboard sized cage and judging from the silk leash they had tied around their dexterous claws, they were even allowed to fly freely from time to time, but they were still surprisingly big. I had already seen their eggs on sale in the market, but the adolescent version, Zuma kept in his shop, was far more remarkable. And smelly. I had never before been assaulted by a comparable stench. With the curtains closed, their miasma had been a part of the animal scent, that had greeted me, but now… I nearly wretched and quickly focused back on the book.

Near the end, I finally found, what I had been looking for. A whole section was dedicated to creatures, Faera had never met but heard of and my feathered friend was among them. Crudely sketched and with almost no information, but there he was, blue scales and all.

Agitated, I skimmed through the text and my eyes widened. Apparently, it wasn’t an animal, after all. The paragraph read:

Of all the peculiar myths that have survived from our ancient past, none seems more absurd than the “transformatio animalis”, a ritualistic punishment, reserved for the most noble of the elvish bloodlines. Those who couldn’t be executed, for either political or personal reasons, were supposedly turned into animals, their own magic burned to fuel the transformation. It is said, they retained their spirit and their personality, but their bodies were unchangeably altered. A snake with sapphire like scales and feathered wings was the result, incapable of performing even the most mundane magic, since their powers were bound to the body itself.

Their appearance is supposedly unique, so that every elf might recognise them on sight and do with them as he pleases. Along with their transformation, they also became outlaws and some claim, that many a royal has spent his last years in a literal gilded cage, unable to do more than watch and lament his cruel existence.

In all my travels, I have never encountered even a single one of them and none I spoke to could remembered ever having heard more than legends. I am not convinced, that they truly exist, but I’ve heard the story told much too often to ignore the possibility that somewhere, somewhen, one of them might appear. Should you, dear reader, ever stumble across a similar creature, it stands to reason that you’re not, in fact, confronted with a magical beast, but an elf, who has been transformed for real or perceived crimes against our people. To my knowledge, the transformation is irreversible, the magic needed lost to the tides of time. Maybe there is proof or even a description of the ritual with our royal family, but I am not well enough connected to even ask.

I swallowed dryly and closed the heavy cover with a dull thud. Zuma immediately shuffled over from the window, the almost empty bucket still in hand, and asked:

“Have you found what you’ve been looking for?”

“I… maybe, but if I have, I’m not sure I’ll know what to do. Did you… it doesn’t matter. Thank you very much, you’ve been tremendously helpful. Here,” I produced another coin and handed it over. “A small token of my appreciation. Should you…” he waved my hand away.

“That’s not necessary. If you want to show your gratitude, you could tell me what you found.”

“I… well, there are several notes on creatures Faera hasn’t encountered but heard of. One of them looks just like the snake I’ve been talking about.”

“Come on then, don’t play coy. Which one is it?” I hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea to tell him, but in the end, I didn’t see the harm. He couldn’t possibly know that I had it with me.

“There’s a description of a punishment. The…”

“The “transformatio animalis””, he whispered. “I remember.” Really, now? Then why hadn’t he recognised the description I had given him earlier? I was fairly certain I hadn’t been too far off the mark. At least close enough for him to realise what I had been on about, provided he really remembered the paragraph.

“Don’t frown, my lady, I don’t mean to trick you. Only when you mentioned the punishment,” he explained, “did I manage to add two and two together. So… they’re real, then?” How did he know I was frowning? If I hadn’t spent so much time with Greta, I would have become even more suspicious, but blind people tended to develop almost supernatural senses. Still…

Hesitantly, I replied: “I think so. I don’t know for sure and I don’t think I’ll ever find out, unless I’m lucky enough to stumble across the same beast again, but it’s just too similar to be a coincidence. The drawn picture… it’s almost identical. I really think I’ve met one of the turned.”

“Would you tell me where? Lost and exiled elven royalty is the stuff of legends. I’d really like to know where you met one of them. It can’t have been too far away, otherwise you wouldn’t have thought it was a species, indigenous to one of the closer islands.” I bit my lip, uncertain of how to respond. The longer we talked, the more difficult it became to skirt around the truth.

“I… In flight, actually. We had been blown off course by the storm a few days ago and when the weather finally calmed down, we were lost. We sailed for days before our captain recognised a small island and was able to chart our course again. I spent a few hours on deck, enjoying the sunshine, and in the morning light, I saw something sparkle. At first, I thought it was a bird but then… I know a little magic myself and when I used a simple scrying spell, the winged snake appeared before my inner eye. I only saw it for a moment, though. I think it must have felt the magic or my presence, I don’t know for sure, but from one second to the next, it disappeared into the clouds and I couldn’t find it again.”

“Is that so? Then pray tell, why is your voice quivering? Are you lying to me?”