The outside doors of the church were large wooden affairs. Two wide slabs, crossed with metal and set into heavy white stone. Large hanging hoops served as handles to be grasped and pulled open by supplicants, and a pattern was embossed into the dark iron that contrasted against the red wood.
The edifice of the church itself was a similar split between humble and artistic. The white stone was flawless, yet undecorated, I could only guess that magic had been used in the formation and shaping of this impressive building.
The wind was still here, and for some reason that made me uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the silence. In games I would expect a place like this to be filled with uplifting music, ready to encourage the hero on their conquering journey. Here however, it was quiet, with the mutterings and murmuring of the townsfolk left behind.
The church was situated in a large courtyard, a few hundred meters from the nearest town building.The garden was small, and filled with well-tended-to flowers. No statues watched over this place, no guardian spirits, or long dead martyrs. Just a set of four beautiful mosaics, one of red, green, blue and yellow.
I put the grounds of the church out of my whirling mind, for the time being, I wasn’t simply here to sightsee.
The handles of the church were beyond the dexterity of my wings, so -however indolent it was- I used my talons to grasp the hooks and drew my leg inwards to pull open the heavy composite barriers.
The entrance of the church was a wide hall, doors on the outer boundaries leading to rooms and presumably more hallways. Light spilled in from the main chapel, yellow-white orbs and glass baubles reminding me of electric lamps, yet a tingle down my back gave me the feeling that these were the second casual use of magic I had encountered thus far.
There were people here, two members of the clergy (based on how their dress appeared) and a handful of other folks who were praying quietly.
A man and a woman, dressed in white and gold robes were quietly discussing something off to the side and near the back of the chapel. The stone walls around them seemed to draw in their voices rather than amplify them.
I felt paralysed here once again. My own anxiety keeping me from taking a step forward.
I had no plan of defence, I had no easy excuse, no backup. If I spoke here I would be letting my guard down, and yet, I was desperate for information.
So, with all of my will, I decided that a plunge would be the best option from those available to me, trust, as hard as it was to earn, requires a risk of one’s own.
My long strides carried me through the threshold, talons meeting the stone floor with a soft ‘click’.
For some reason now was the moment I wondered how I looked. I had never been vain before, in fact I didn’t care about my appearance in my old world at all, ‘men shouldn’t’ or at least that’s what I had been told.
Here though, I towered over everyone, clearly standing out from a crowd. Was I ugly, attractive? Did I fit the standards of beauty from this land, or was I of those considered cursed by their appearance. How stereotypically ‘womanly’ of me, to worry about my appearance when meeting new people. I forced myself to banish that thought, as much as I wished I had a mirror to look in.
Heads turned as I stepped into the hall, most remained at prayer, a small ‘blessing’ I supposed. Two pairs of eyes focused my way quickly and sharply. So, I met them as I approached the two members of the church staff.
“Nelson told me to ask here for some more information.”
Surprised by my sudden exclamation, the two of them looked to each other for a second. They were younger than I had thought in their mid to young twenties, my age -or at least the age of my old body-.
One of them spoke up, the woman, “Yes, thank you for stopping by.” Her voice was higher than mine, but had an enjoyable tone to it. “The church is always open to those travellers from afar. Take sanctuary here and rest from your journey if you need to.”
They had looked me up and down by now, and I had to suppress my discomfort their inquiring gazes brought me. I had never stood out like this before, I was of average height and certainly had no clearly stand out features like this body had.
She continued on, “If it is information you seek, perhaps you should start by telling us what you know.”
At this the man spoke up, his voice slightly tired. “I am Iefan, and this is Junia.” He gestured to himself and his companion as he introduced them. “Worry not of your name.” This surprised me, but he continued his explanation, “We of the church encourage travellers from your world to take a new name upon coming here, it helps to cement your situation.”
My name, gone. It would make sense. I am not who I was, to name myself again would solidify this change.
I was named -in a similar manner to the rest of my family- after a 'great hero' one who slew men in the name of God and reunited the souls of the faithless with the light of the Holy.
That act never sat well with me, for if man is to kill, it should be in the service of one's will, one's needs, not the idolatry of some greater being.
"I shall think on it." I managed to get out. "Can we start with the basics, where am I?"
The woman replied "Of course, you are currently in the town of Torono, which is part of the Sovereign Duchy of Resiland. The continent you are on has six other countries. Gian, Lorium, Terchnag, Kamogawa, Ahrasha and Tur’Naish”
The list she rattled off included some odd flourishes, but sounded strangely ‘earth like’ It was odd perhaps that they spoke English at all.
“How many of us are there?” This question was one that I had been worried about, I was looking for my friend, and yet I was worried for my place.
“We suspect that there are over ten thousand at least,” The man -Iefan- spoke. “Although it is likely that all twenty thousand have made their way to this land.”
The woman began to speak next. “This may shock you, but many who arrived have been scattered across the world.”
I closed my eyes, thinking of all the numbers. Twenty thousand, if Nelson had met over 100, that would mean that either, his range was quite large, the planet was quite small, or the distribution was curated in some way.
“Why are we here? Do you know that?”
Junia gave me a small smile, “No, sadly we have not received word from God or the spirits to inform us of why. All we can tell is that sometime after the last eclipse, magic surged the world over and we lost contact with the spirits meant to be overseeing the natural processes of the world.” She gestured to a mural that was hanging above the altar at the back of the chapel.
A subdued affair, it seemed to show an equilateral cross, its arms the same length and with a symbol behind each one. Stereotypically, there was fire, air, earth and water.
“This was about six months ago, and since, we of the church have been trying to send out expeditions around the world to find the cause.” She pointed her arm in my direction. “Monsters in all of the kingdoms have begun to become more violent and dangerous, appearing more powerful and more often, this is beginning to strain the kingdoms and put worry into the people”.
Iefan was the next to speak “You folk started appearing about four months ago, and honestly, we’ve been surprised by your abilities.”
“Can you explain what you mean?” I asked, Nelson had mentioned levels, such a game-like term, “Does it have something to do with levels and the game from our world?”
“In a way,” Iefan spoke up once again, “Levels are universal here, everyone has them. You can only get them through combat however. Most civilians level up only a dozen times in their life.”
“The last person we spoke to about this needed some more clarification so I’ll explain in more detail,” Junia said “Unlike what I’ve heard about your game, levels do not power you up. Levels are a reward for overcoming obstacles. There are no statistical improvements. I have heard tales of high level individuals getting caught by surprise by even common monsters or criminals and being slain.” She held up her hands to her chest. “Levels are extremely important; our God urges that all pursue self improvement and levels are one way to be rewarded for doing so.”
The two priests began to walk over to the altar at the back of the room.
“One of the miracles we can still perform is an appraisal.” Iefan spoke “if you step here we can use a spell to determine anyone’s class, race or other statistics.”
I stepped over to the indicated location. “What do you expect to learn?”
“Nothing too exciting, your race will likely be the only thing out of the ordinary.” As he spoke a soft green glow came from the altar.
“Now place one hand on the table,” Junia gestured, holding out her arm palm down. “Er, you can use your wing.”
Following instructions I placed my wing against the cool stone. A tingle went down my spine as I could feel the magic taking effect.
“You seem like a normal level one warrior, at least aside from your race.” Iefan reported “Harpies are unique it appears, I’ve never had the opportunity to appraise one, but you have absolutely no magic, no mana, not ongoing spells, no aptitude.”
This all felt like an insult, however irrational it may be, hearing someone say I wasn’t good at something -even if it were true- bothered me. “Why?” was all I could ask.
“Well,” Iefan began “Harpies seem to use their magical power entirely in sustaining their bodies, specifically for the ability to fly. Helping the air keep you aloft, reducing weight, providing some metabolic needs and physical structure internally.”
That was a blast of information, “Do you have knowledge of physiology, no offence, but things like metabolism seem beyond the technology level I’ve seen thus far.”
Junias answered me this time, “You travellers always seem so surprised. We do lag behind your world in technology and science, but to understand magic, we must apply many concepts you assume are born of your world.”
“Whatever the case,” Iefan began, having finished his investigation of the spell’s output. “You should go out into the world and explore.”
“We here at the temple hope that your kind will assist us and this world. We need to find the four great spirits and stop the monsters that are beginning to spread. Travellers are only those with powerful enough souls, so if you were to level up and become stronger you could help a great many people in this world.”
[][][]
The hours of questions I further asked inside the temple did me little good, it was hard to focus or put into context so much information. I learned that my friend was not here and that if I did not become stronger I was in danger.
The time I had spent inside the church hardly seemed to affect the township. People still went about their business and the area seemed full of life. Odd, now that I was aware of the threat facing this land. And yet, it made a sort of sense, why should the people of this world worry if heroes from another world would save them. Perhaps that was a cruel view.
Thoughts of flight stirred in my mind, and yet I was afraid. This body was uniquely suited for it, but the idea of falling, or landing poorly, being dashed against the ground, that was what worried me.
I had to think, why was ‘I’ here? Was this world discriminant in its selection? Who moved all of us over and why? Did some king conduct a ritual to summon an otherworldly hero, or was it a ‘natural’ phenomenon? And why did the game exist, who made Convergence?
Was I happy in my old world? Were any of us who came over? I want to say that David was at least, but how well did I know my friend?
Hard thoughts were well and good, but I was getting nowhere. I decided to head into the town to get a feel for the people around me.
The town itself was built onto a slowly moving river that turned wheels and presumably mills from there. Hills raised and lowered without pattern around, the largest two of which housed the church and the fort respectively.
People here had jobs and lives, if leveling up meant combat, that means that most people likely had some martial training. With that in mind I made the fort my first stop.
Along the way the people turned, stopping their tasks and chores to glare at the outsider. Was their ire earned by being an outsider? Being different?
I decided to put them out of my mind. Instead looking for information as I walked.
The town was small, and yet had good material output, many of the folks here had professions related to the collection, production and refinement of resources.
I wish I could describe the people as colourful and brightly dressed, but the majority wore drab clothes, although well dyed, based on my knowledge of medieval colouring techniques. They dressed as if they were well off, but lower class. Although, roughly a third of them carried weapons openly. The well cared for tools were primarily knives, although many still carried swords or axes.
The imposing armaments aside, the people looked friendly with one another. Not a mythical utopia, but in general, people seemed happy, they smiled and worked together, they seemed fulfilled going about their jobs. It was not universal, some seemed sad, or bored, a small few even sick or poor. What these people seemed to have was 'community' something that seemed to be lacking from my old world.
Time for my musing ran out soon enough, and I arrived at the fort, a squat yet large building, two wings off of a large imposing centre. Dark stones make up the outer walls and a large gate stood open to allow entrance.
As I approached the hill the fort was built on, there seemed to be more soldiers in the area, and -fittingly for a magical world- even some mages. Wide brimmed hats, hoods or even simple clothes were the dress of choice, but what marked them apart were the obvious displays of magic, conjuring fire and wind, arcane sigils and barriers.
To be fully honest it made me jealous and a little frustrated, the 'hand' - or perhaps 'wing'- I was dealt prohibited me from pursuing magic.
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I watched them from afar, to them it didn't seem like as much of a wonder as I saw it. But of course to them it was normal, in the same way as training one's body, or practicing a skill or trade.
A few of them noticed my eyes and pointed me out to one another so I quickly walked towards the fort before a scene could develop. The ground here was well stamped down earth, smoothed with a technique I hadn't seen before, maybe magic.
The courtyard of the fort was wide and open, small clouds were visible drifting in the sky above, as the sun beat down on the training men and women. There were a surprising number of those here, not just ones in uniform, but common folk as well, even a small squared off area where there were some youths practicing drills.
I was not left alone to watch at my leisure however. As I was approached by a tall man in armour. He towered over the men around him, almost meeting my gaze.
The first true demi-human I had met. Broad shouldered and covered in armour that marked his station as being above the most common.
The head of a wolf on the well built body of a man. He had shining golden eyes and grey fur covering his muzzle. Much more expressive than you would expect an animal to be. And he smiled at me as he began to speak.
"Hello and welcome." His voice was a deep rumble, yet the tone was friendly and open. "I've not seen one of your kind before. Are you a Harpy? What brings you here?"
I would normally shy away from the sudden questions but here I had braced myself and had a story prepared.
"Greetings" I smiled as best I was able without a good understanding of how my face looked. "Yes, my travel has been long and I actually come at the behest of the church to join the adventures."
This tale was how Iefan had recommended I introduce myself. The people of the world who were not part of the church likely had never heard of people travelling between worlds, so this small deception was for the purpose of giving me a reason to be in town.
"Well met then, my name is Teroldus." he extended his hand in a familiar motion, and I placed my wing in it, feeling odd as if I had let someone grab a vulnerable part of my body "I will gladly receive the help of anyone who seeks to aid the world!"
This was the part of the script where I should introduce myself. I had thought of a few names while in and after I had left the church, yet, I was hesitant to take a new one. It felt like accepting becoming who the world seemed to want to force me to be.
Considering my dark feathers, I had decided upon one that may seem pretentious. One of the watchers who sought freedom from God, "Sariya" I introduced myself, a reference to Sariel.
"I'm glad to make your acquaintance Sariya," the wolf man spoke. "Now I must ask, aside from your unique figure, what combat methods do you usually employ?"
It strongly bothered me to try and claim to have no experience -what the church recommended I say- so I spoke what I viewed as the truth.
"I have trained myself quite a good deal, but I am very low level."
He looked skeptical at me, "most people who train like that level up a few times."
"I can prove myself, how about we spar?" The people around us who could hear began to mutter and murmur, it seemed like this Teroldus was considered strong around here. A perfect first target.
In every game I've ever played, I always took on the strongest optional bosses and challenges. And here I could -
"Hah! I'm sorry but as brave as you are, I don't fight people who are too low level." he seemed to take my statement as a joke. Like he was looking down on me.
I opened my mouth for an angry retort, but he cut me off. "Here's a deal. I've got a few trainees who have been working for a few months. If you can beat one of them, I'll fight you. If not, you come back here each day and we train until you can."
This was not a fair deal, but I still wanted to take it. I could prove my skill then move up to the next challenge.
"Of course I accept!" I called out, looking around at the group of people, wondering which of them I would be fighting.
"Alright then," the large men turned away from me to evaluate the group of people now intrestedly watching our exchange. "you there, Reodrich. Step forward."
The one presumably named Reodrich walked out of the crowd, a small man, at least compared to Teroldus and myself. He had sandy hair and was wearing a suit of chain armour. Probably had been doing cardio exercises by the way he was sweating.
“Armour off boy,” The hulking wolfman directed “Now before you go into this, evaluate your opponent.” The younger man was certainly too old to be called boy, yet acquiesced to the instruction of Teroldus.
“Yes Sarge.” He replied, finally informing me of the wolf’s proper rank. He stared at me, looking at me from top to bottom, likely trying to find weak points.
Teroldus began again. “By her own admission she is ‘very low level’, to my ears this may even mean level one.” When he said this, the crowd around him began to murmur again. It seemed like in this world being level on was far outside the norm. Which I could easily imagine, given that even youths were training here in the fort.
The large beastkin continued, “Now, you’re probably feeling some dissonance. She does look scary, but overestimation is sometimes as much of a problem as underestimation.” This felt like a direct insult, but to be honest, I wanted to hear what someone from this world would think about fighting.
“Don’t take her for ‘just’ a fool, as clear as that point is, she holds herself well and those legs look like they could be a formidable weapon.” Teroldus began to move away guiding the younger man towards a small clearing that was cordoned off as a small training area.
I was angry at that comment, but I was determined now more than ever to prove that smug wolf wrong.
“She doesn’t have any armour, so you won’t either. Strip!” Hearing the bark, Reodrich looked surprised but surged into motion before it seemed that he could comprehend the order.
His mail was off in a second and he was beginning to undo his gambeson before it donned on me to look down at myself. The loose tunic I woke up in was likely not the correct outfit to spar in, but I had no other choice, as nothing was below it. And, while it felt odd to worry about it, with the body I had now, I was supremely uncomfortable with the idea of baring so much to the people around me.
On the other wing, Reodrich was already done with removing his heavy armour and was bare above the waist, a light shine of sweat covering the body of someone I had clearly underestimated. I shook my head to clear my mind, no distractions before a fright.
I stepped over to the square training area and hopped over the short rope railing. I flexed my feet against the dirt, it was odd how easy I could move these limbs, but I supposed whatever magic resulted in the transfer of my consciousness was responsible for that.
My musings were cut short however as my opponent entered the ring.
“I hope you can use those talons without slicing people to ribbons. And to accommodate for your physiology, I’ll be letting Reodrich here use a practice sword, don’t worry it’s a fairly light wood and should leave too many marks.” He grinned at me again. I was feeling uneasy, but I needed to prove to myself I could do this.
“We’ll be doing a standard spar,” He said directly to Reodrich, then to me he turned to say “That means no blows to vitals, don’t go grabbing this fine man’s neck, or kicking somewhere he’ll really regret. First to surrender, but I will call it if I think someone is at risk or in danger.”
I watched my prey, he was broadly stanced and had his wooded rod held in front of him. He was tense, and I could see his eyes flick at me, looking between my legs and face as I drew myself lower and ready to use my long reach to my advantage.
“----”
A shout from Teroldus broke the silence but I couldn’t make out the words behind the blood rushing in my ears. Reodrich surged into motion, stepping in and low, already swinging up the false blade held in his right hand. He had narrowed his profile, his right shoulder and arm turned towards me as I traced the wood carve a path through the air.
I moved in reaction, swinging my right leg out in a wide kick, low and sweeping up to where he was going to be.
I saw his eyes widen, then, paradoxically, for a fraction of a second, a grin wormed his way onto his face.
His sword hit the ground, dropped in favor of twisting his body and grabbing my leg, immediately pulling me off balance. A shoulder met my center as he drove himself towards me.
I thrust out with my wing, slamming the edge into his face, but failing to bring up enough force to even budge him as I went down.
The ground met my back in a painful manner as we fell together, in a second he was on top of me and I felt a punch get into my face. Raising my wings to block I felt one more,then another, another and fourth a fifth.
I was reeling, these blows had real strength behind them, but somehow, my body had enough left to lift up my entire torso, along with the man pummeling me, and with a heroic effort, I sat up and used my wings to toss him off, send him rolling, yet quickly springing to his feet.
I surged up myself, stepping up and forward, driving a leg into his side as he spun away from me.
I pressed what advantage I could and turned my whole body into the next swing, left leg flying towards his other flank.
When suddenly, he had caught me by surprise again. In his roll and stand, he had grasped his sword once again and slammed the length into the thigh I had lifted to strike with. The blow staggered me and ment that the force I brought to bear was not enough to move him. With a flash, he was on me again, woodend blade flashing.
He struck me in the side, then again in the armpit, slamming the rounded wood horizontally against me.
The breath had left my lungs. The thin wood, while having some give, allowed his strength -a surprising amount even given the musculature he displayed- to be multiplied further. A cracking sound let out as I was sent lurching backwards and fell.
“Enough!” A voice called out. Signaling, of all things, my loss.
The dirt below me was dry and stained my tunic and short pants. It was all I could see for a moment before I turned my gaze up to where Reodrich was standing, panting. He looked much worse for wear than I expected, cradling a hand against where my one good kick had landed, and with a split brow where my wing had struck him above the eye.
I moved to stand when a lance of pain ran through my chest, I forced the thought away and stood to my full height.
“Well, you’ve got me impressed lady.” Teroldus was already in the ring, having stepped over beside Reodrich to look at the hits I gave him. “That kick of yours is nasty, if the lad here didn’t have a couple of skills you could have seriously hurt him.
The church had explained skills to me. Rewards -they claimed- to those who reach levels, they are similar to imagining how a video game would function. Perhaps one may gain the [enhanced strength] passive skill, or some kind of limited skill like [fierce strike] which had to be activated.
“Not that you didn’t take an impressive set of hits yourself.” The insult burned my face and eyes, as I choked on my breath. Each one sending pain radiating from my side.
“That may have been too cruel a trick.” He said “Reodrich is no mere trainee, but I wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t have hurt anyone by accident. Good thing too.”
I couldn’t control myself, I wanted to scream, but bit back my words. “Well, he sure proved me wrong.” I winced as I said it, I hated this. I had been humiliated and mocked. The day, from start to finish, had gone wrong.
I was alone in this place, no one I knew was here, nothing I had practiced or learned in my life had prepared me for this. Each time I forced myself to continue, pursuing the feeling of newness or the urge to overcome a challenge, I was proven again and again that I was not up to the task.
I had tuned out the conversation the two of them were having, but a word directed at me broke my stupor.
"Are you alright?" The voice that spoke was not that of Teroldus, but rather Reodrich. "that last blow was harder than I would have normally tried for, and I thought I felt something give."
Was he calling me out for being too weak?
"I'm fine." I ground out with perhaps a bit too much vitriol. Unsportsmanlike.
I had never been a poor loser before now. I had oft taken losses in stride, learning from my mistakes to help improve.
But now, tired, hungry, alone, I felt upset, and the most distressing, was not that I lost the fight, but that I had lost control of my emotions. My side hurt, but it wasn't enough to make me lose control and cry.
"Sorry for wasting your time." I forced an apology out and began to walk away, each step feeling like more of my defeats piled on one another.
They called something out to me as I went but I couldn't listen now.
Perhaps that was it, I wanted to scream and rage. I wanted to attack those who looked from the crowds around me with scorn.
So I strode off, leaving the fort, and the glaring eyes.
[][][]
The directions given to me by Iefan and Junias led me in the direction of my next stop. Somewhere to eat and rest. One of the town's inns. Perhaps it was a joke from one of them, but I walked through the entrance of the Blackbird Inn.
The squat building was two stories, but quite wide. Double doors were held open by stops, and led into a short hallway. At the end of the cloak room, there was an arched entrance lacking a door, which opened into a quite large eating area. Many seating arrangements were placed around the room, starting from a bar in the back wall. Opposite, a small half stage was set a foot or so off the ground. Flanking the stage, a large staircase led up to a balcony that had some doors for guest rooms set behind the railing.
The main room was busy, yet not full. The occasional people looked up when I walked in, and there was a bight voice of one of the servers who called out to me as I entered.
I approached the young woman, "How would I go about purchasing a room to stay in?"
I used the alula of my right wing to hook the string that was around my neck, and pulled the money pouch out of my tunic. The pull on my side burned.
"Well," she began looking up at me, "the smaller first floor rooms are one silver and larger second floor rooms, two."
Interacting with the money pouch felt near like wearing mittens. I only had opposability with my thumbs, and even then the feathers got in the way.
I pulled upon the pouch and let it hang on the string."Please take out the amount for a meal and a smaller room."
It felt wrong to ask for help now, but this curse of a form was the hand I'd been dealt.
"Okay," the woman agreed, taking the pouch in her hand and fishing out some of the coins. I noted that she took out only three of the smaller bronze coins in addition to the single silver.
"What brings you to Torono?" She smiled at me.
I winced as the breath I took filled my lungs. And gave the excuse I was resigned to use. "I am seeking to assist the church and, -learn-to be an adventurer."
She began walking towards the bar and I followed behind.
"Not many are making their way out this way, but it's always nice to have more warriors in town." She continued to speak as she crossed the room and pulled a key from a cabinet hanging on the wall.
The people in the room noticed my presence as I walked past and towered over them. I drew stares from the crowds and I could feel them watching me.
Trying not to show weakness, I took the key from the woman.
"I'm Yulie," she said as I grabbed it from her. "Feel free to come get me anytime if you need anything while here."
"Thank you," I answered, adding a curt "Sariya" almost as an afterthought.
I held the key tightly in my one digit, knowing that if I dropped it, it would be nearly impossible to pick back up.
I made my way to the room that shared the number with my key and crouched very low to jostle the key into the lock. Rather than fumbling with my wings, I used my foot. I turned the key by gripping it with my talons, a surprisingly easy affair, and quickly entered the room.
The room itself was quite small and very dark, I had to duck to get into the door. Something I wasn't quite used to. The bed was low to the ground and there was no window. A short dresser with a small mirror attached to it was similarly low to the ground, with a stool sitting before it. A small oil lamp was on the bed stand and I used a talon to turn the nob, clicking the ignition to give the room some light. I sat down on the bed and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
My body hurt where I was struck. Each blow that I had taken in the fight, a stinging reminder of how badly I had erred.
I looked down at myself, the body of someone else was all I could see. None of my old body remained. And I was afraid to look into the mirror and banish the last memory I had of my old face.
How was it possible that I could even move this body? I looked at my wings, stretching them out across the room. I could see dust had collected in my feathers and they had skewed out of place. I felt an odd irritation looking at them, a strange urge and my mouth began to water.
Not like the normal saliva you swallowed down in the day, but rather something thick and oily filled my mouth, I could feel it coming from another gland and filling my mouth with a sweet flavour. I instinctively knew what to do and let myself preen, almost spitting on my wing and rubbing the oil into my feathers. I used my teeth to adjust the underlayer, but it was clear that a beak may have served me better for this.
I spent almost an half hour doing this before a knock on the door broke me out of the -surprisingly soothing- activity.
"It's open." I called out.
The door opened, revealing Yulie from before. She held a tray with some food on it, a bowl of soup and some bread. The flickering of the lamp made her pale skin and red hair blend together into shades of brown as she opened her mouth to speak.
"You paid for food, but didn't come and get it, so I brought it here." She had a look on her face that I couldn't understand. "Is it okay if I leave it here for you?"
"Thank you." I said, from my cross-legged position. "and, please."
She stepped into the room and put the whole tray down on the top of the dresser. Then she nodded at me and gave me another look I couldn't understand and left.
Looking down at what I was doing, I decided to stop preening for now and stop trying to avoid the issue of today.
I was trapped and alone. I'm in a strange new body and the farthest from home I've ever been, literally worlds apart.
I had sometimes dreamed of something like this. Being taken to a new world, where people relied on me. Somewhere that, I was special and my skills and tenacity would allow me to make a great mark in the world.
Here I was, magic was real, I couldn't use it. I was a freak, a bird person, and I had lost something important to me.
Why wasn't I raging? Why wasn't my mind filled with a terrible panic? If the ‘me’ of yesterday heard that something like this was going to happen, he would have flown into a surge of activity, motion. He would have secretly rejoiced in the chance to be truly free from his family. And he would have felt sick at the loss of his body and transformation.
But I wasn't. I could feel no sickness when I looked at myself. I wanted to. I wanted to burn with embarrassment and to freak out.
The fact I hadn't, was what scared me the most.
Who was I now?
I looked at the mirror at long last. I was not Gideon, a passionate man from Christian America. Sharp brows hung on my face, red sclera and yellow irises looked back at me. I was now Sariya, a Harpy with a cruel looking smile and a terrible struggle with self identity. Or perhaps more accurately a terrible complacency in such.