Rayan closed his eyes, being greeted by the familiar practice room when he opened them. The students were all getting up from their meditative sitting positions and brushing their clothes off. Come to think of it, he didn’t have any idea of how long the class had gone on. Probably somewhere in the range of an hour. Sitting and doing nothing for that long sounded boring.
“Remember to stay safe going home,” the teacher urged. “Three people fell victim to that ice-wielding owl a few nights ago. If you see it, do your best to flee. Trying to fight it isn’t a good idea considering its magic.”
Each student acknowledged her warning before leaving, though Celien stayed quiet as he left the room. That was a bit concerning. Rayan fluttered along behind him, arms crossed. Hopefully the kid wouldn’t try anything. It wasn’t likely, but he could always be secretly overconfident. Maybe the shy demeanor was a mask.
“Um, I live a bit far from here,” Celien began, “and I have to follow the woods path. So we might have to run from the owl. Or, fly for you.” He pushed open the doors that led out of the school and started the trek home, inhaling heavily before sighing. “I’ve heard that people don’t even hear the owl before it’s frozen them solid. A bit scary, isn’t it?”
Rayan took a moment to look at their surroundings, ignoring Celien for now. They were on a paved road that resembled a sidewalk and there was a much wider road ahead where horses and horse-drawn carriages were going past. Both sides of the road were lined with buildings. They looked pretty quaint and cozy. Rayan could appreciate the atmosphere, but it might quickly become annoying to be in a world with this level of technology.
His inspection done, he turned his attention back to Celien. “Owls’ feathers let them fly silently, but they aren’t waterproof like other birds’ feathers.”
Celien glanced back at him. “Really? That probably explains why there weren’t any attacks when it was raining,” he idly muttered.
Rayan watched the horses trot past. Now that he thought about it, he’d never been this close to horses before. They were much bigger animals than he imagined them as. Maybe he was just small, though.
“So, you’ll defend me if we encounter the owl and can’t run, right?” Celien asked quietly.
Rayan stared at him, his expression betraying the bewilderment. “You know that Water Shot spell your teacher mentioned. You could probably soak its feathers and keep it from flying.”
Celien looked down, a frown on his face. “I, erm, don’t. I never managed to cast it when we were practicing it. So you’ll protect me, right?”
Rayan sighed heavily. “I guess.”
“Hey, Mutae, can you handle this? You said you’d protect the body if it’s in danger, and this kid seems intent on forcing me to fight.”
There was no response, only a sudden sinking feeling. Rayan found himself in the blank mindscape, alone. “Huh. Guess she just took over,” he said to himself.
Meanwhile, Mutae examined the imp’s body with distaste. “What a vile creature,” she thought. “I wonder if Scale of Chameleon will work in this world.”
She exhaled slowly, recalling what had been written on the board in the classroom. The magic seemed based on manipulating the energy of the surrounding world. This made her wonder what applications the absorption ability would have. Well, it was time to test her spell out. She focused her mind on the transformative properties of chameleons, hoping to mold the imp’s form into one more suitable for her.
The first thing she noticed was that the ground was becoming farther away, or, she was getting taller. Hair brushed against her upper back and wings, lengthening rapidly. She also guessed that her facial features were changing considering the persistent itch there. Once it felt like the transformation had passed, she fluttered along behind Celien, having grown tired of walking.
Celien glanced back at her, his eyes widening in surprise. “You- you can shapeshift? That’s cool,” he mumbled.
Mutae examined her claws. “Of course I can. Most demonic creatures have some ability to change their form. Aside from that, magic seems very easy to command in this world.” Even her voice had changed to match her feminine appearance.
“Concentration is able to manipulate the energy of the environment, all of you should try to practice in your free time,” she mentally suggested. With any luck, the others would listen to her.
“Easy? I guess,” Celien said with a sigh.
He led them toward an alley, at the end of which a line of trees stood. A faint path cut through them though, which the boy might’ve been familiar with. Mutae hoped that he was, at least. Walking blind through the woods wasn’t something she was particularly keen on doing, especially with an owl that liked to attack people flying around. And if what Rayan had said was true, she wouldn’t even hear it coming. Thinking of Rayan, she wondered how he controlled the body so adeptly. It felt like a marionette with a few cut strings to her. Perhaps it had something to do with how recently he had died.
Tense, silent minutes passed as the pair trekked through the trees. Mutae could tell that Celien was watching for the owl at every chance he could get, his attention split between the trail and the sky. Even the former dragoness was casting wary glances over her shoulder. It would attack from behind, right? That’s what a more “stealthy” creature would do.
“If you would indulge me, what were your teacher’s lessons on the Water Shot spell? Even some knowledge would be very helpful right now,” Mutae requested, her voice calm despite the situation.
Celien turned his head to look back at her. “Erm, she talked a lot about how nearly everything contains water in some form. That it’s the ‘veins which carry life’. Also, that it can have the gentleness of a rainy puddle or the strength of a rushing current,” he explained. “It’s hard to understand her most of the time.”
Mutae hummed quietly in response. She supposed that casting a spell like Water Shot might be similar to breathing fire. Instead of flaring rage and destructive intent, she would have to turn her thoughts to a much more even, steady wrath. Perhaps what a river would feel as it carves a canyon. She inhaled heavily and then released her breath in a sigh. Practice seemed to be in order while she still had the time.
She raised her right hand to the side, pointing her clawed index finger at a tree’s trunk. As surely as dark clouds bringing a storm, a gout of water erupted from the air inches away from the end of her claw. It followed the trajectory of her finger, steam following the shot. As it impacted the trunk, a sizable splash followed.
“Hm, scalding water. It might be rather punishing for a wielder of ice,” she muttered to herself.
Mutae repeatedly practiced the spell as they walked with no sign of the owl. The shots became progressively larger and more forceful. While they couldn’t be compared to the flaming breath she wielded in her former life, she figured that they would do a respectable amount of damage. Maybe they would be enough to take the owl down.
Suddenly broken out of her thoughts by an unfamiliar prickling feeling on the back of her neck, she spun to identify the cause. Rushing at her was a ball of ice. She raised both of her hands, meeting it with a boiling Water Shot. The ice melted and then vaporized in an instant, the resulting cloud obscuring Mutae’s vision.
She then about-faced, flying ahead of Celien and grabbing his hand to pull him along. “Quickly now, it might attack again at any moment.”
Celien ran (mostly stumbled) along behind her, his shock having left him temporarily speechless. When he regained enough of his wits, he spoke in a nervous tone, “We- we’re close to my house. Erm, we should be fine once we get there. Dad’ll protect us.”
Mutae followed his “left there”s and “right here”s to navigate the maze of trees. They suddenly thinned out as the pair arrived at an overgrown house in the middle of a clearing. Instead of pausing to examine the scenery, she flew right to the door with Celien still in tow. Surprisingly, the frightened boy swiftly fished out a keyring from his pocket and unlocked the door.
Once the door was shut behind them, they felt rather safe again. Celien panted with the exertion of having to sprint home as he trudged over to a circular table surrounded by chairs. He pulled one out and promptly collapsed on it, still breathing heavily.
The kitchen was small, with a counter dominated by scattered tools and utensils. A covered pot was simmering over a lit stove made of stone, a blue rune glowing in the air above it. Judging by the smell, it was probably some sort of meat and vegetable stew or soup.
“I- thank you. You protected me like you said you would,” he muttered as soon as he had caught his breath.
Mutae smiled. “It was a trivial matter. As your familiar, it is my duty to make sure no harm befalls you,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Just then, she noticed creaking from another room. A tall and tired-looking man walked in afterward, his hand over his mouth as he yawned.
“Oh, you’re home. How was the walk, Celien?” he asked. Afterward, he noticed Mutae. “Huh, you got a familiar now, too. I told you that you hadn’t lost your touch.”
Celien fidgeted, staring at the floor anxiously. “Erm, we got attacked by the owl, but my familiar kept it from hurting me. Summoning it was probably a fluke, though,” he mumbled.
“Aw. If it was a fluke, your familiar probably wouldn’t have protected you.” Celien’s father walked over to the stove, picking a ladle up from the counter and taking the lid off of the pot to give the contents a quick stir. “Remember, a familiar’s obedience is equal to the skill of its master.”
Celien sighed heavily, slumping in his chair.
His father gathered some of the stew in the ladle, tasting it and nodding in approval. “Alright, dinner’s ready. Make sure to eat a lot, you did well today.” He took two wooden bowls out of a cabinet, filled one with stew, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and walked back out of the room to return to whatever he had been doing before.
Celien watched him go, getting up from the chair. He went over to the stove, filling the second bowl with a small amount of stew. Afterward, he looked over at Mutae. “Um, you can have some if you want,” he offered.
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Mutae looked from him to the big pot of stew. What an enticing offer! With little hesitation, she fluttered over to the stove. “Thank you very much. It smells delicious, I must compliment your father’s cooking.”
She took the ladle from him, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and serving herself a healthy helping of stew. She stuck a spoon in it, then turned around to set it on the table. Pulling the chair out, she tucked her wings against her back to sit down.
Celien sat down next to her, poking and prodding at his stew with the spoon. “Um, do you like potatoes? Dad puts them in stew all the time, but I don’t really like eating them. Can I put them in your bowl?” he quietly requested.
Mutae had already begun eating, looking over at Celien when he spoke. Her mouth full, she opted to nod instead of responding verbally.
Celien smiled lightly. “Thanks.” Over the next few minutes, he diligently hunted down the pieces of potato and dropped them into Mutae’s bowl. Only after he was done did he start eating.
The rest of the dinner was quiet; Celien said nothing else and Mutae respected the silence. Once she finished eating, she realized that she felt oddly tired. This was probably because of how long she had been in control. She let the imp’s body return to its original appearance, knowing that Rayan wouldn’t be too keen on looking like a girl. Maybe she’d be able to teach him Scale of Chameleon.
“Rayan, are you paying attention?” she asked mentally.
After a few seconds, he responded with a “yeah”.
“I will return control of the body to you now. It is unlikely that it will be in any danger soon.”
With Mutae returning to the mindscape for some well-needed rest, Rayan assumed control again. He immediately glanced around at his surroundings, examining the house. It was pretty cozy, but it was a place that he wouldn’t want to spend too much time in.
Celien finished his stew, looking over. “Oh, you went back. Do you like changing form a lot?”
Rayan adjusted his clothes, staring down at a small rip in the fabric over his chest. Did Mutae..? He huffed in frustration, looking back up to reply, “Sometimes, I guess.”
“Well, I’m gonna sleep. You can stay in my room if you want,” Celien offered as he got up. He picked up both of their dishes and set them in a basin. “Or explore the house. My dad usually doesn’t let me in the basement, so you should stay away from there.”
Celien walked toward a staircase leading up, ascending the steps. Out of boredom, Rayan followed him. There was a short hallway with two doors parallel to each other. Celien opened the one on the left, going inside. His bedroom was untidy to say the least, with books and papers scattered throughout. At least the window was open.
“Erm, do you think the owl will try to attack from the window?” Even before Rayan had a chance to answer, Celien walked over to the window and closed it. “Better safe than sorry,” he muttered.
Rayan nodded in agreement. “I’ll just hang out downstairs, I think.” He didn’t exactly want to be creepy and watch Celien as he slept or anything. So, Rayan left the room and went down the stairs to sit at the dinner table again.
He pulled a chair out and sat down, resting his head on his arms. The position was a bit uncomfortable, but he didn’t mind much. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to wander.
“Hey Mutae, did you change how the body looked?” he questioned.
“I did. Would you like me to teach you how?”
“Yeah, that’d be nice. I’d rather not be stuck looking like a child.”
“I made use of a spell that I call “Scale of Chameleon”. In my old world, it required one of the beast’s scales for use. Fortunately, such a catalyst is not needed in this one.”
Rayan lifted his head, a frown making an appearance on his face. “That doesn’t really help.”
“Focus on how a chameleon is able to shift its colors. Their deadliness when ambushing is unmatched due to this ability.”
Rayan rested his head on his hand, narrowing his eyes in thought. If he remembered correctly, chameleons changed their color with specialized cells. He had a feeling that the chameleons described by Mutae were a bit different from the ones he was used to. With that as well as Mutae’s previous advice in mind, he concentrated on how chameleons change color.
However, his focus was promptly interrupted. “An imp, huh? You barely look like one. More like a grey child with demonic features,” Celien’s father commented.
Rayan turned his attention to the man, sighing. “Yeah, I guess.”
Celien’s father pulled a chair out and turned it backward, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he examined Rayan. “I’m Abras, by the way. I’m a teacher at Celien’s school, so you’ll see me again tomorrow.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rayan said unenthusiastically. This was a bother.
“You wanna join me in the basement? I have lots of things that I want to learn from you,” Abras explained.
Rayan furrowed his brows. “It’s something to do. Sure.” He got up from his chair, stretching. His wings and tail followed the motion, his wings spreading and tail curling.
Abras smiled. “Excellent, let’s go.” He got up again, walking to the staircase leading down. Of course, Rayan followed. Once he was at the bottom of the stairs, Abras unlocked the door that stood there and entered the room. He took a white coat off of a hook next to the door, putting it on before walking farther in.
Rayan examined the room. Bookshelves dominated one wall, the shelves absolutely packed with books, papers, and journals. On the opposite wall, there was a desk littered with various tools and curious-looking instruments. The centerpiece of the room was a metal table. A dead creature was chained to its surface, holding a loose resemblance to a deer. Instead of fur, it was covered in iridescent scales. Sinister “antlers” laid limp on the table, lacking the rigidity of a regular deer’s. Most unsettlingly, it had a matted mane of hair atop its head.
“Pardon the deer creature. I found its corpse nearby and decided to investigate it. A strange thing it is, huh?” Abras remarked.
Rayan tore his gaze away from the creature, nodding. “Very strange.”
“Now, I have some questions I’d like to ask you.” Abras sat down at the desk, opening a journal. He picked up a quill, dipping it in a pot of ink. “So, what’s it like where you came from? Hell, the underworld, whatever.”
Rayan shrugged. “I’ve never actually been there. The first thing I saw was the room Celien summoned me in.”
Abras went “huh”, promptly writing in the journal. “That’s unusual. It would mean that you’re an imp that was created at the very moment of the summoning. It’s strange that you’re able to speak.”
Of course, Rayan knew exactly why he was able to speak. Did he care enough to say it without being asked? No.
“Perhaps Celien shared some of his knowledge with you by accident. No matter the species, newly-created beings must be taught. This can either be by traditional means or magical ones,” Abras thought aloud. “Do you have any memories that seem to be from before you were created?”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m pretty sure they aren’t what you’re looking for, though,” Rayan yawned the last word, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
Abras eyed Rayan. “That’s a strange mannerism. Do you always cover your mouth when you yawn?”
“‘If you yawn with your mouth wide open like that, you’ll catch a fly’,” Rayan nonchalantly said, shifting his weight. “Why?”
Abras chuckled, a somewhat unsettling grin spreading on his face. “You’re not from this world, are you?” He punctuated his question by pointing the end of the quill at Rayan.
Rayan raised his brow, tilting his head. “You could say tha-”
He was cut off by Abras bursting into a fit of laughter. “O-ho! Most Travelers end up as a human, but you,” he chuckled, “are an imp of all things.”
“Is that funny?” Rayan crossed his arms.
“Of course it is,” Abras replied, wiping a tear from his eye as he got a few more laughs out. “My condolences to you, whoever you were before. As long as Celien lives, you’ll rarely see this world.”
“Why’s that?” Rayan questioned.
“Familiars are usually only used in times of emergency. He’ll dismiss you when morning comes and likely not summon you unless it’s needed for a lesson,” Abras explained. “Even if you’re somehow freed, you’re likely to be killed on sight. Wild demons are treated as threats.”
“Oh, so I’ll spend most of my time in hell,” Rayan commented sarcastically. “I’ll get well-acquainted with the devil and let you know what I’ve learned for next time.”
“Aaalright, that’s all I wanted to ask. Or, all I can ask for now. I’ll have more questions in a while.” Abras waved a dismissive hand as he spoke. “Go do whatever.”
Rayan said nothing as goodbye as he turned around and left the basement. He had a lot of time, so he figured that he might as well try to improve himself. First off, that chameleon spell. It was probably a bad idea to change his appearance when he didn’t even know what he looked like, a thought that hadn’t occurred to him previously. Guess it was a good thing that Abras had interrupted him before he made himself look horrible or something.
He ascended the steps to the second floor, quietly opening Celien’s door and going in. There was a full-length mirror there, which he then approached. Looking himself over, he scowled.
Staring back at him through the mirror was a somewhat demonic child. Honestly, the face reminded him of himself when he was young.
"Maybe I should try something simple like changing my hair or eye color," he thought to himself.
“Ok-ay, like a chameleon,” he muttered quietly.
He concentrated for a while. As his mind drifted to the specifics of how chameleons and similar animals changed their color, he noticed white spreading from the roots of his hair. He watched it keep going down until it was all a snowy white. Curiously, he patted his own head. It was even starting to become curlier at the ends.
He leaned closer to the mirror, now deciding to try changing his eye color. Though he couldn’t tell exactly which color it was, a darker shade started appearing in flecks on his irises.
Stepping back, he tilted his head and examined himself. His hair looked a bit weird compared to his skin tone, so he decided to lighten it. The color became paler until it matched his hair.
"I guess this is a lot like customizing your character in a video game. That’s a more fun way to think of it."
A somewhat amused grin on his face, he continuously changed his appearance to see what he liked best. This was probably good practice, he figured.
About an hour later, or what he assumed was an hour, he had settled on an appearance. A little less childish, but still not enough to look like an adult. After all, it would look weird to have a grown-up face on a rather short body. And strangely, as much as he tried, he wasn’t able to change the shape of his horns. Maybe there was a good reason for this.
He walked over to the window, peeking out at the moon. It was rather high up in the sky, but he couldn’t tell if it was rising or setting. Either way, he still had a lot of free time. Maybe he could try to cast a different type of spell.
Turning around on his heel, Rayan dodged around the scattered papers to reach the door. He left Celien’s room and went back downstairs. There was a fireplace in a side room, which was perfect for what he was planning. He sat down in front of it, crossing his legs.
“Fireball, huh?” He leaned to the side, resting his head on his hand. “How would that have worked in my previous life?” he wondered aloud. Thinking about how something would work scientifically seemed to work. Science was the closest thing to magic that there was.
"Fire requires three things," he reminded himself, "heat, oxygen, and fuel. With the magic in this world, I might be able to create the heat and fuel."
Honestly, he sometimes wondered if fire could be considered “alive”. After all, it did all of the things that biologists generally agreed living things did. Anyway, to make a fireball in his previous life, it would probably have to be something round, covered in gasoline, lit on fire, then thrown. He sighed, gazing into the fireplace. If he could light a fire in it before the night was over, that’d be a good step. So, for the rest of the night, he attempted to cast Fireball.
Rayan didn’t have much success. A few sympathetic sparks lit up in the air between him and the fireplace, but nothing else happened. At least it was a start. Just as he noticed the sun rising, he flinched from a pulling sensation unlike any other. Celien’s voice echoed in his mind, a single word: “Dismissal”. He blacked out immediately after hearing it.