It was only two days after the victory. The defeat had been complete. The lucky ones not lying here among the dead had fled rather than properly retreated.

Last night, the three healers had roamed the battlefield, searching for survivors or, more often, simply collecting wooden signatures to send home or back to Kwal later. This morning they continued their work. Their hopes for real healing were not high: After a day, people either woke up from their concussions and were alive enough to attract attention, even if it was just faint moaning. Or dead. Apart from the carrion birds, it was the silence of the latter.

"Hey, look, a new centaur!"

Apprentice Freya raced to Joan, the most antisocial healer in the camp and thus happy to be here away from many patients in the tents.

"Still looking for the right mount?" the senior healer teased his youngest apprentice.

She shot him an angry look.

"Sorry, Freya, relax. There are worse things than caring for centaurs."

They were standing next to the centaur, the latest addition to Kwal's army. Created by forbidden soul magic, according to the clerics. And not very stable, many of them died soon. But this one was strange indeed.

"It doesn't look like a centaur."

"Clearly a she." Joan snorted. "Stange taur, no hooves even. And not wounded. Please, she looks like she never ever stood once on her thingies."

"I think these would be paws." The senior healer reached out to lift one but quickly withdrew. "Ew, weird, it, she sucks mana like crazy." He touched her again, this time prepared. It was hard to get any feedback, most of his mana was just lost. "Strange, as if she arrived without any mana."

"No mana? Aren't they magically created?"

He wondered about that as well. "Without mana, a stale soul should be able to travel on, according to the clerics. Anyway, it is good practice for you. Freya, check it too."

Apprentices Freya probed the taur. It took her several tries. "There seems to be a soul. But, sorry, I am bad with souls."

He chuckled. "I hope so, you are training as a healer, not as a cleric. So, apart from the soul, what does the healer say?"

Freya tried again. "She is alive, no wounds, normal breathing. More like sleeping. But a severe lack of mana."

He stretched his mana carefully and probed further. Indeed, she was healthy and her soul was somehow also dormant, but at the same time the liveliest soul he had ever experienced. But souls were not the domain of healers, either their patient had a living soul or their souls had travelled onwards. "I think she does not need to be called. The soul seems even more healthy than her body. Perhaps they have transplanted another living soul into her so that she can survive without mana."

"Those bastards!" Joan tried to probe as well. "Indeed, I think I can sense an animal too."

"You would too if she were a centaur, we need a cleric to be sure."

"Maybe good she is not awake. She would be even an outsider under centaurs."

"Really Freya? The cripples back in the tents, the ones who will survive without legs or arms? They will have to beg for mercy from our broken coffers." Joan was blunt as ever. "She looks specially tailored. Much more elegant than those crude centaurs. She would survive longer than a week."

"And we saved everyone we could." They needed to move on. "There may be still humans lying around who we can save. So what do we do with her?"

But Joan answered first. "She has clearly been grafted with magic, but she has been drained of mana. Let's give her mana. Maybe mana will wake her up."

"We could also try to call her by meaningless names, different every time. Just to annoy the sleeping soul."

He looked at Freya. "Annoy the soul?" Sometimes she surprised him. He chuckled. "Ok, let's try it."

* * *

"Wrgxfcx"

Again, another of these awful noises, denying me my rest. Half awoke, bloated, like a balloon, skin stretching over my body.

"Cwarthgexrficex!"

This time the noise was too annoying. So I opened my eyes: Sturdy old leather boots standing on a muddy meadow. Ancient, smelly boots. Not what you would expect to see in a hospital. And I was supposed to be in a hospital, right? The usual place after being pushed off a train platform at rush hour.

But no hospital here. The leather boots belonged to a woman who was wearing some sort of rough, dark dress, a tunic came to my mind and looked rather wild with her blond matted hair. Next to her were two others, also dressed in the same dark, rough clothes, not looking like nurses either. They looked more like Valkyries. Maybe this was heaven. Then they were just 800 years out of fashion, a blink in the eye of eternity. So, I had died and this was heaven. Obviously, the church had got it wrong.

The woman smiled. Then she sat down next to me and put her surprisingly clean and youthful hand on my shoulder.

"Hello. How are you?"

It sounded like a loudspeaker, coming from everywhere. Was I on a film set? But that made absolutely no sense. Must be heaven then. Miracles belong to heaven.

"Hllo, I am Ki-ara." Ok, if I spoke slowly, I could almost pronounce most of the words. Some progress.

The other woman looked surprised, at least her eyes were wide open.

Well, let's get some more information. "Her am I?" Why the 'W' did not work? "Hll, fwl, ww. Where?"

"You are Ki-ara?"

"No, Kiara ... Kiara!"

Why couldn't I remember my surname? The more I thought about it, the more gibberish names came to mind. So I stopped.

"Ok Kiara. I am a healer. How are you?"

Healer, ok, hospital. But the healer did not move her lips, only her voice came through some hidden speakers. Maybe some opiate painkiller had given me a trip. But her question was good. I felt great. Maybe I really was stoned. "No pain." That was true. "But my skin is tight. And I am thirsty."

She gave me a big bag of water. The water was the worst-tasting liquid that I had ever drunk, stale, warm, with an aftertaste of rotten leather and death. Neither heaven nor a hospital should have water like that. I handed it back, fighting back a gag.

"Can you stand up?"

I pushed myself up on my hands. No problem, still no pain. In fact, I felt very energetic. That was good, right?

Then I looked down and chaos broke out in my head. At least five different voices were shouting at me. All of them were sure that what they were seeing was wrong, although they were complaining about different things. I closed my eyes and willed them into silence. After a while, the chaos settled down. Still willing them to silence, I opened my eyes again. Methodically I looked down along my body. And there was a lot to see, far too much. I was wearing a short, smooth yellowish shirt that I had never owned. I was fine with that. And I was looking at a woman, which should be fine but to my surprise annoyed all of the voices. But below my navel was not a hip. Instead, there was a wide shoulder like a horse and a long back with long brown fur and a white belly, and broad, strong paws in place of hooves. An oversized fluffy brown tail was moving slowly at the back of the body. The slight breeze through its fur registered in a formerly unused region of my brain. It tickled and a tiny voice snickered. That made me smile, despite this ridiculous situation.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I patted the fur on the lower back and got a reaction there as well, another empty brain region awoke, and another voice called out over the rest. Just out of the reach of my hands without bending was a well-filled saddlebag strapped to my lower body, the only other gear I wore apart from the shirt.

But the saddlebag was secondary. This was not me, never. Even more, the different features of this body alarmed other voices in my head, while at the same time, at least one was pleased. I imagined myself with a megaphone, calling for silence. With that, I got better at controlling the voices.

'Anybody has an idea how to stand?' I called out.

Two voices joined their eager 'yes' and fought for my attention. That was a good sign - I hoped. 'Stand up!' I shouted in my imaginary megaphone.

There was a tremor going through the hind leg muscles. I watched with fascination, totally disconnected from what that lower body did, even though it was orchestrated by my brain. First, my hip rotated itself parallel to the ground and by its support, my belly turned parallel to the ground too. Next, my middle shoulder went straight, not caring for the sudden loss, removing the ground from the arm I had lent on. My human torso tilted forward which was used by the powerful forelegs to propel the middle shoulder upwards. Moments later the hind legs straightened as well. I stood on four legs and slowly rightened up my human torso.

"I am standing", I snickered and then started to laugh. "I am standing."

The healer had jumped backwards on my first movement and was now looking at me like I was crazy. Or stoned, yes, please, let me be stoned.

Soon my false laughter faded. 'Left foreleg up', I commanded in my head in playful curiosity. This time no megaphone but still came a prompt reaction. 'Turn, er, paw around!' And voila, I stood on three legs with my left foreleg raised and I was looking at the inside of my left paw. The paw was huge, it had long digits and some claws were slightly protruding from them. 'Claws out!' This time a new voice jumped eagerly in front, again eagerly shouting 'yes, yes'. And long black claws extended from the paw's digits. I watched these killer tools with morbid fascination.

The healer approached me slowly, more like I was a wild animal. "Sorry," I said and quickly requested the claws in and the paw back on the ground which got a prompt execution. I quickly got better at commanding this huge alien body.

The healer woman placed her hand very softly on the fur on my lower shoulder which tickled less this time, just a nice warm feeling. She was more than a head shorter than me standing.

"My name is Freya. May I look after you?" Again, no lips moved.

"Yes, please." And more explanation would be nice, too, I thought.

Freya released her contact again and took my hand. Not only I was much taller than her but also my hand was much bigger than the healer's hands. "Can you move your claws again?"

As if the voice of the claws had listened, the claws shot out before my human part could complain that hands do not have claws.

"Great, you seem to have full control. And walking?"

Full control? Clearly not, although I was not ready to admit that I order around inner voices for control. And, they obeyed, 'walking', and the body moved. So I was in some control. The only question was who was I. Some I was doing the walking. Or should it be called a trot? I had no idea about four-legged gaits, the only thing I had ever ridden was my bicycle. But I moved smoothly, following instincts I never suspected I had.

Steering was easier, just turning and the body followed, no conscious effort needed. I moved in a wide circle around the three healers. I would have expected more bouncing like the cowboys on horseback in Western films. But my upper body did not move up and down at all, it just swayed back and forth a little. Which was good, given the lack of supportive underwear under the shirt.

With every step, I became more enchanted by the fluid elegant movement of my legs. If I had to consciously coordinate my legs, I would have fallen over, if I got any movement at all. But all I had to do was loudly think 'moving' and some part of my brain kicked into action, moving my body. Still, with the human torso, it was like riding a horse but with a lot more control. And feedback. I felt all the little stones under each of my four paws. I had to block it out, it was a sensual overflow.

"Kren thogh pit!"

I stopped and turned my head. The healer woman shouted again in the same gibberish, this time moving her mouth. With a few wider strides (wanting to move faster resulted in them) I was again next to her. That was nice, I was full of energy, I wanted to walk more, even run. If this was an opiate trip, I want to experience it to the fullest.

The healer, Freya, put her hand on my lower shoulder. Again, she spoke without her lips. "Do you see the banners? That is us, the camp of the victorious Kren Republic. We have to go there."

"Yes, I see them." The banners and even the tents were clearly visible, even more than a few miles away. This body had great eyesight too. I looked around. I had not paid attention to the surroundings except that there was grass close by. I had been too occupied by myself. "Where are we?"

"The battlefield near Kerwnough. Yes, these are dead."

I was certainly not in heaven; dead was a sure sign of that. Now I recognised the smell, or rather the stench, and tried not to heave. "Can we leave now?"

"How do we communicate? I need to touch you for mindspeak."

Ah, now I understood why she had talked gibberish sometimes. She needed tough to talk to me. The thought of riding from earlier. If I rode this body, why not together ... "You know how to ride?"

She giggled. "You are a naughty woman!" And jumped on my back.

I blushed for no particular reason. She was a lot lighter than I thought. I barely registered her weight. My lower body must be strong.

* * *

At first, I walked cautiously with Freya holding on tight under my chest. After a few steps, Freya giggled and I let go of the reins in my head, asking for more speed and two voices screamed with me with joy and energy. Soon our destination came into view behind the banners, the camp of the soldiers. When the soldiers began to point and shout and then raise their weapons, I stopped.

Freya jumped down and ran ahead, shouting back at them in their gibberish. I waited, breathing heavily but not yet out of breath. After a long exchange, Freya gestured for me to come.

Freya put her hand on my lower shoulder again as I stood next to her. "You will be guarded, sorry. I will stay with you to translate."

Four soldiers with what looked like spears (pikes, I later learnt) walked ahead. Four more followed, with an important-looking officer at the back. (His helmet had feathers, and he was much cleaner than any of the other soldiers, who stank terribly. Well, battlefield.) I nodded and followed Freya's lead at what felt like a very slow walk.

I fought with the stench as we walked through the camp. My sense of smell had certainly improved, which was no blessing in this time and place. Between one of the tents, I thought I saw a centaur but everyone else appeared to be run-of-the-mill humans, different in size and shape as humans go.

Our destination was a slightly bigger tent in the middle of the camp. The feather helmet went ahead into the tent and soon returned with two others who had even more plumage on their helmets. "The general, and his second," Freya sent, "please bow if you can."

I did as I was told and surprised myself. I was able to bend forward until my head touched the ground thanks to the counterweight of my lower body.

That seemed to please the general, or more likely, to amuse him. Then he spoke gibberish, of course. Freya was quick to translate using her mindspeak. As expected, he welcomed me to these days of triumph ... and after a short list of his achievements, he finally got to the point. I was not a prisoner, but, yes, of course, I was one for the time being. He went that as I was the first of my kind ever seen (why had Freya not told me this before?), they would have to wait for a healer to clear me and probe my soul. And he wanted to know more about my origins.

I relied on Freya's translation, my speech gibberish to them too. I tried to recognize patterns in the sounds Freya made as she translated my ramblings, that I was human like them, but from another place, very different from here, where mechanical iron horses pulled many carriages. And that I had been hit by one of them and had just woken up here, transformed. They looked sceptical. As I would have if someone had told me that the next day, I would wake up transformed on a battlefield. And then Freya added another explanation of her own, untranslated. She gestured with both hands to make her point but her audience looked even more sceptical.

Freya put her hand back on me. She needed skin contact to translate, to mindspeak. "They believe me even less than you do. Foremost about the soul. Another healer will come and examine you. And later a cleric will examine your soul."

Soul? They were talking about souls as if they were tangible. But then, who am I to judge, walking around with the wrong number of legs? So I just waited.

Soon a soldier returned with a man in tow. He was old but broad-shouldered and tall. He also had a dark cowl, which was not in the best state, to be polite. He had a tired but gently smiling face and the same clean hands as Freya. All in all, he gave the impression of a homeless doctor. He stopped a step away from me and looked at me critically from head to tail. I returned his intense gaze. He was the tallest man around, and we were at eye level. He slowly stretched out his hand, palm up, intending to touch my human shoulder.

"I am Kiara and I do not bite," I smiled at him, but it had the opposite effect.

He frowned and hesitated.

Freya made an angry face at me. Obviously, I had upset someone important. "I'm sorry, sir." I looked down and pushed my shoulder towards his hand.

He also spoke with his mind through skin contact. Even this way, he sounded like the good uncle doctor from my childhood. "I should apologise. I am Senior Healer Parek. I had a tiring, long day. Let's get this over with."

"Of course. I am Kiara, fresh from another world."

"Yes, so I heard. Let's have a look at you. Please, just stand still. It might tickle."

This time I felt something from the old healer seeping into me. I did not like it and tried to push it back, which was futile because I had no idea how. It moved too fast anyway and still felt a bit slimy. Then it withdrew. I felt slightly molested. But that was forgiven by his good news, well, as good as the situation allowed.

"You are a healthy female. Unlike the centaurs, your soul is more than complete. No immediate need for mana." He looked at me as if this was a great achievement. Then he removed his hand and told the others of his assessment and much more. Most of them still looked at me sceptically. After another exchange between the general and the senior healer, the general made some hand gestures, and the senior healer went back to where he came from.

"Kiara, hello," I had not felt Freya put her hand on me. "I have been assigned to look after you since I can mindspeak. And as the youngest healer, I cannot help the others much. Not sure if it will help but I have cared for some centaurs before."

"Oh, what are they, I mean."

"I'll tell you more later. Please, let's leave these important people."

Oh, she was right. I bowed my head again down to the ground to the amusement of a few people and then let Freya guide me away.