The first chords were awful. Karen adjusted her grip, reaching along the old wooden guitar to tighten the strings with practised motions. Little by little, the sound aligned, and she closed her eyes as tan fingers plucked the strings.
Dun da dun. Dun dun. Da dun.
Dun dun da. Dun dun.
“What’s the problem?” Karen smirked, repeating the opening chords to find the momentum. From there, it was a pattern, bringing the next step for order, harmony, and rhythm, “Fancy something else? Maybe… uh, We didn’t start the Fire? Burning Ring of Fire? Set Fire to the Rain?”
Of course, there was noone to bother today. She had begged her case, asked if her parents wanted to risk the current human charm unleashing a griffin at school, and been rewarded with a house key. Alone, as far as they knew, since Ollie was with a neighbour, and so Seraphina had set her to training to attain proper sorcery. Which apparently involved doing flips on the trampoline, baking brownies according to a recipe Seraphina half remembered, and playing her guitar for the first time in months.
“Reckon that’ll be enough?” Karen glanced up to meet her reflection’s bright gaze, “We don’t have all day.”
The teenager pursed her lips, strumming rhythm falling apart as she tried to parse the unfamiliar sensation. Energy flowed. Like electricity through circuits and nerves. Heat spreading through wood and water. Dominoes falling? There was a draw between her and the gem, there had to be. But the sensation was as alien to her mind as the ultraviolet colours were to a human, completely unlike heat, weight or taste.
“Out.” She wasn’t turning into a griffin, so it was logical. “You’re drawing magic from me.”
“Urgh, why? You think I’m going to have to shapeshift while playing?”
She pouted, switching to an easier tune, “Reckon I could fit my wings to my size?”
They continued the exercise for another half hour, trying to work awareness of the innate magic. She guessed correctly maybe half the time. Given there were only two options, Sera seemed unimpressed, but her metaphors and illustrations failed to find purchase, like trying to hold water in her talons or explain a colour.
Karen shrugged lazily, undoing her hair, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve done it before, easy.”
Then, with a deep breath, she focussed. Memories swirled up with ease, of flying, breaching the highest clouds and diving almost into the lake, curling up in perfect comfort and dragging her claws across trees, breaking a sheep and pinning a mage under her claws. For an instant, like the spark of ignition, Karen felt as if she had pictured herself perfectly- not in any measurement, but something more vital, more instinctive, more true than metres, inches or anatomy.
Then the pain began. It surged out from her teeth and thigh, as if her skin was splitting, bones stabbing into the muscles and ligaments meant to hold them. Blazing heat coursed through veins that surged in a thundering beat, and she collapsed, writhing and screaming even as her vocal chords were remade.
Agony.
Pain.
Quiet.
Heat.
The thought was barely a word, more a scared whine It sounded weak. She forced herself to sit up, ruffling her wings, mentally attempting the sentence again,
Karen loped to the door. She hardly needed more encouragement. But something needled her. Seraphina’s presence. Her voice. Her expression. It was all so soft, tender, like handling broken glass or a cub.
The griffin glowered at the tone. But this wasn’t angry work and she couldn’t outstare a mirror. So she flopped on her nest and tried to let the anger seep away.
This wasn’t the work of claws and screams. This was the work of fingers and tongues. The memories she’d been savouring at Seraphina’s direction. The seeds of humanity.
Mixing brownie batter in a bowl, balanced at the crook of her elbow.
Giggling in the stream with her friend, legs kicking to tread water.
Chocolate melting in her mouth, the texture of tongue against teeth.
Watching ripples left by a thrown stone, her clothes settling from momentum.
There was so much. Memories swelled and flowed like a rising tide, buckling around even as she tried to tie these few down, tried to conjure that same spark, that perfect idea.
Butting against her sire’s chin, held safely in his arms.
Flying high and free, breaching the very clouds.
Flipping between bounces on the trampoline, hair whipping around her ears.
Once upon a time there was a wild wilful girl with dark hair and tan skin….
Seraphina intervened. Added her impression like a lifeguard clutching tight in the ocean. Then, at her will, the pain began. Her bones were crushed and scorched, her flesh pulped more thoroughly than any dough, her eyes blinded and talons blunted.
It was agony.
Then it was over.
Karen sat slowly, gritting her teeth. She was shaking. She was human. The pain was gone. Why was she shaking? She curled her legs and wings close, arms clutching her shoulders and brushing her hair.
It took a minute.
“Uuuurgh, I’ve got wings?”
“Right. Fine. Let’s try again.” Karen wiped her eyes, breathed, and began to think. Hunting. Clawing. Flying. Bouncing. Pouncing. Trees and clouds, feathers and blood.
It hurt no less.
More even.
She was dimly aware of her limbs cracking, twisting around, the thumbs on the wrong sides as her ribcage split apart.
* * * *
The absence of pain was like a freezing shower. She startled, flailed and screeched at the ceiling, her wings jostling between her back and the floor. Panic set in- how wrong was she?
No, she was upside down. The griffin snarled, flailed and shoved herself upright, casting a quick glance over her form. Every limb seemed in the right place, without any injuries or mutations. Her thigh ached fiercely, and the ruby collar was on backwards now- the stone at the crook of her neck- but otherwise she seemed fine.
She sprawled, eyes forced shut, pulling at the memories once more.
Plucking out a tune on the guitar, ears pricked to savour the sound.
Hanging from the climbing bars, the world turned upside down.
Coiling around Maddie, feeling sobs she couldn’t fathom.
Packing first aid supplies as Logan stared in confusion.
She felt a thread amongst them. A glimpse of Sera’s working. All to one to all. More to less, scooting sideways in a direction that didn’t exist. Right to right, left to left, spine to spine, head to head.
It hurt.
* * * * *
“No.” Karen snarled, pushing herself upright on sharp talons, the manifold spectrum of the world blurring through tears. “That was so close.”
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“No- I’m not giving up. I can do this.”
“We had time!” She found herself yelling, standing, shaking the mirror. “We had time and we wasted it running around, skipping and swimming and… and baking!? And for what? It’s not helped!”
“Why can’t I do it? Why isn’t it clicking!?” She sobbed, “Why am I getting worse!?”
The teacher’s authority shocked her, especially coming from her own reflection. A reminder that the spirit in her mind was far more dangerous than the playful face in the mirror. And she was acting weak, disgraceful. Karen stifled her tears and pulled on the nearest clothes, leggings and a vest, before following the rich scent of brownies back to the kitchen.
Karen nodded, carefully wiping her eyes as she beeped the buttons of the machine, noting the time with a gasp.
“We were shapeshifting for over two hours?” She hissed, “Sera, my folk’ll be back soon, we don’t have time for this.”
“Sera!? I’ve got a tail and claws!”
“Asshole.” Her tails ridiculous lashing almost threw her off balance, it was full griffin size, but she managed to retrieve the plate and sit, fuming. “It’s… going to be even harder without you, isn’t it?”
The brownie did taste good. She swallowed, feeling the silence tense with disappointment.
“You… became a djinni? From what?”
Her reflection winced, covered her face, and walked out of sight, a complicated ebb of emotions flaring up. Shame? Frustration? Guilt?
Karen flinched, “Are you doing coin magic?”
“It doesn’t have to be words.”
Karen listened. She hesitated. Anger didn’t seem right. Pity? “I’m sorry?”
That sounded stupid.
“That’s… worse. How… old were you? Will that happen to me?”
A small chuckle escaped as she took another brownie. “Knowing my luck, I’d burn the winning ticket…. Thanks, Sera. For telling me.”
“Why no- oh, she’s a phoenix.” Karen blinked, “Wait, they’re bad for us too then- I’m not meant to have chocolate!”
“Asshole.” She muttered. But she’d had one, so she might as well have more. It helped to process the confusion, the sadness- lives weren’t meant to end at sixteen, whether by fire or claw. Compared to those, she’d gotten dealt a pretty good hand, though the awkward mixed form was hardly ideal.
She was still processing things when her parents and Ollie got home. The brownies confused them as much as the tail did, the concern making her feel like a cub. Mom was all over, fussing about how tired she looked, Ollie kept trying to grab her tail, and Pa was just quiet, watching as he washed up the baking dishes. Before dinner, he insisted on driving her out to Diana, having his own questions about the apprenticeship.
“Yeah, yeah,” Karen grumbled as she curled up in the passenger seat, and rolled the window down. Even then it was too tight- when was the last time she’d been in the noisy, tight cage of a machine? It was too tense, and it was only partway through the journey that she realised why- her sire wasn’t looking at her, his eyes fixed on the road, his jaw tight.
“Called Principal Kelly today, kiddo.” Pa declared quietly. “I’m sorry. We sent you back to school too early.”
“What? Pa, I’m fine- it’s just a tail, I’ll get better at this.”
“Karen. You scratched up a classmate, jumped off the roof and ditched school yesterday.” He rumbled, voice as deep as the engine, knuckles tight on the wheel, “And never mentioned any of that to us.”
She cringed, clawed dark fingers pulling on her tail. There wasn’t any question, any accusation, just the facts. Of course he’d found out, he’d called the school for her to stay home. Why hadn’t she seen it coming? Gone to RASA herself earlier?
“We said we’d be better at communicatin’. You remember? You should’ve called me. Instead, you did what all afternoon yesterday? Flew? Hunted? Went up the mountains?”
“I just walked the lake and killed time! I didn’t even transform.” She snapped, frustration bubbling up. “I thought the charm might wear off- d’you want a griffin at school? No! But then… it didn’t ….so… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of things. It was nothing, I just tried to remember some stuff for magic, some good times. But no, everyone wants to make a big deal out of everything! Ever since Halloween, it’s… it’s all…”
“You were human the whole time?” Pa finally glanced over, eyes soft with concern. “Well done. What’s eating at you?”
Karen squirmed, twisting to stare out the window, but the star-bright eyes of Seraphina glittered in the wing mirror. “I… can’t we talk about this somewhere private?”
“Kiddo, it’s just us. I’ve talked to your Mom already- we agreed that it’s maybe best if you take the rest of the week off. Especially if we get lovely bakin’ from it. We were focussed on Ollie, but you went through just as much trouble as he did, it’s no surprise that you’re affecte-”
“You think I’m broken?” Her stomach dropped. “No- NO! Pa, I’m fine- I’m better than that! We’re stronger than ever, I’m learning actual magic, and I can fly! You don’t need to treat me like… like a cub or a little girl! I can handle it!”
Her father shook his head sadly. “If you want to be a grown up, you gotta act like it.”
She folded her arms, wincing, “I am- I saved lives! Why’s noone remember that?”
“I know. And I’m proud of you. But most grown ups have never saved anyone, that’s… not part of adult-ing.” Pa raised a finger. “Here’s the rules. If you need to leave school, you call me. No ifs or buts, even if I get a call and it’s just you screechin’ in avian, that’s better than nothin’. And no big celebrations. We’ll steer clear of thanksgivin’ with my siblin’s, just see them in bits and pieces, same for your birthday and christmas.”
“You’re cancelling my birthday?”
“No. Just not having you deal with your cousins at the moment- think Karen, how would you even get there, you been almost clawin’ your tail off in just this drive?” He grumbled as they passed the edges of the RASA camp, and began to filter down its odd vibrant streets.
“I could fly. Easy.”
“Hmm. You probably could. But Uncle Aaron, Anne, all of them ain’t half as used to this mystic business as we are. Let’s give it time.” He grumbled as he pulled in to park, “Oh, and no going to school unless you’re fully human. Whether Veil or… this magic stuff. Includin’ the eyes. Now, where does Ms Kingsley live?”
* * * * *
“Stars, you look absolutely wonderful Karen!”
Diana greeted her with nothing but cheer. The red haired witch looked maybe a little tired, but her smile was keen and proud, and it was all too easy to barrel in and embrace her, wrapping arms and tail close to her mentor.
It was Sera’s idea of course- the best way to covertly return the ruby vessel before her father noticed- but it felt good all the same. The heat vanished after a moment, while Diana’s presence grew warmer, and her arms squeezed tighter as she whispered, “You’ve done brill, don’t forget that.”
“Ahem, Miss Kingsley, got time to chat?” Pa coughed diplomatically, “Wanted to clear up a couple things about this… uh… apprenticeship.”
“Uh-huh, mmhmm, right, of course,” The phoenix woman blinked rapidly, barely paying a mote of attention. “Come upstairs- I’ve got to- yes, it’s done, we’ve got to get her charm from down below, just wait- mind the tail, don’t trip.”
She led them blearily to the hazy apartment above, no doubt consumed by Seraphina chattering away with delight to be reunited. Karen felt the opposite- the absence, the sense of just herself, nothing more and nothing else, was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t tiredness, and yet she collapsed on the couch, leaning on her sire. No, her limbs were fine, she had energy, but the step down without Seraphina’s sheer power was like night and day. Spirits were terrifying.
After ten or thirty minutes, metallic echoes on the staircase announced Diana’s return, the familiar ruby blazing at her throat, and her eyes a brilliant gold. Pa took the chance to walk first- quibbling about the matter of pay, what hours Karen would be expected to do, and what her actual duties would be. The answers were just as mundane- her initial human charm and support had a cost, and Karen’s assistance would pay her back. She could charge him now and pay her, but she didn’t want to put them out of pocket.
“Of course, the main aspect of my work is this,” Diana pulled a small medallion from her pocket, “Karen, Kay? This one’s for you, wakey wakey.”
“Hmm?” She blinked, carefully taking the amulet with clawed fingers. It retained the dark iron grey of the Miracle Stone, raw iron, but the witch had reshaped and refined it into a smooth coin shape. An outer and inner ring, with five spiralling bands connecting them, made the image of a hurricane, all carved with tiny sigils and a woven band just like the ruby vessel. “Wow- it’ll fit me?”
“Easily.” The witch grinned, “That’ll help handle the magic, it’s like training wheels. I redesigned it- a little more stylish than a marble, right?”
“It’s awesome.” She pulled it onto her neck, testing the stretchy fabric, to find it sat comfortably, “It’ll match my feathers, right?”
“Folk’ll hardly notice,” Pa nodded, “So, how’s it help, exactly?”
Diana, or Seraphina, gave a long sigh. “Simply put, that is Kay’s fuel tank, and lock. She can’t slip out of human form without magic, so storing the magic will avoid accidental changes. And since it can store far more magic than she would naturally, it could last almost indefinitely, charging off her own reserves.”
“Now, honestly, she shouldn’t have it,” She continued, “I’m not sure if she told you, but a great dragon dropped that- otherwise magical stores like it would cost more than a car, easily. I don’t care, as long as nothing was harmed, but we’d advise keeping it’s presence subtle, to avoid an angry dragon or greedy wizard trying to steal it back.”
“Noted. So, if it’s the fuel…”
Diana snapped her fingers, “Then Kay has to learn to properly use it- she made a brilliant start already. But that is where my lessons come in. Do you think you can listen for a while, Karen? Or had enough?”
“Uh, I can learn. Yeah. Didn’t have school today.” She admitted, “Do you need deliveries too?”
“Yeah, a few. So, if that is all, Mr Thomson, I’d quite like to get started.” Diana smiled acidly.
Pa gave a sombre look, his hands clasped and drumming on the stump of his missing finger. From Diana, red haired and canny, charming and disdainful, to Karen sitting quiet and restless, her tail twisting. Then he bent low and scooped her into a huge hug. “Work well, learn well, kiddo.”
“Drive safe.” She headbutted him, careful not to dig in with her claws, then escorted him out and grabbed a rucksack from the car, before settling inside. Despite her apparent urgency, Diana knew of the day from Seraphina, and seemed perfectly happy to eat jerky and chat, trying to give different images and illustrations of the proper mechanics of shapechanging.
“It’s not a seventh sense, not really- think more of reading the wind while indoors. Or the rhythm of music,” She attempted to explain, “Look at the little signs you feel before it begins- those are the notes, the timing, the leaves rustling, the ripples on water. Then open yourself to it, like unlocking a gate, rather than pulling a carcass.”
Karen herself listened with polite bemusement. The illustrations seemed to contradict one another, sometimes pulling on some sensation she’d felt while changing, only to discard it for another impulse. What she could actually understand was at least how to operate the so-called Miracle Amulet- a word for locking it, Anverath, and a word for opening its reserves to her use, Denrol. Much of the session turned into ensuring she pronounced the two perfectly, to Seraphina’s amusement, before she was sent out with a dozen flasks of Veil and dismissed for the day.
Karen hesitated after making it to street level. She looked weird. She was a girl with golden sharp eyes, sharp dark claws on her fingers, scattered with scales, and a too-big tail twitching at her back.
But, then, this was a camp where the street also included a couple of arguing hunchbacked grey folk, a half-horse man, a dozing giant mole creature, and who knew what else behind the Veils? If there was anywhere she wouldn’t stand out, this was it. And so she made her rounds once more, knocking and passing out the potion bottles with barely a scratch. What confusion existed was more because they expected Diana, and the news that she was the witch's apprentice only attracted amusement or encouragement. Of course, none of them knew she was a failure at magic.
She was down nearer the lake, outside the camp, when she heard the sound. Air thrusting down in waves, like a drum. Great wingbeats, not as a grand as the ancient dragon Scevola’s, but larger than little Fei’s. Loud enough to be five?
Karen ducked low, and darted between the trees, her avian eyes searching through the twilight colours for any of the signs- fog, pigeons, or the rotting carcass itself.
Instead, vibrant stripes and a powerful body occupied a clearing near the shore, and Karen burst out laughing with dark mirth.
A chestnut griffin, large as her, was digging his claws into a log as his wings strained, beating again and again, barely heaving him up to fall as they brushed off the dirt, too long and weak to gain the necessary distance.
“What the hell is that?” She scoffed, chin raised. The griffins cute little ears twitched at her voice before he collapsed, flopped down, and had to tear his talons free of the wood to turn and squint at her. He squawked something- wing? Dark?
“Yeah, it’s me, Alastair, what gave it away? My tail?” She snapped, “Anyway, please don’t tell me that was your attempt to fly. Because, holy shit, that was ridiculous. You can’t carry a log and fly.”
Another handful of garbled growls and squawks escaped as he glared at her, rolling his meagre shoulders with a final snarl. Wings strong? Stronger? Up?
“Oh, strength training?” That earned a nod, before she laughed again, “No- come on, dude, seriously? We can’t do vertical take offs. All you’re doing is focussing on your shoulders and bashing your… uh… your wrists? The corner onwards, against the ground.”
A surprised whistle escaped the dumb male, and another string of queries followed. His eyes narrowed at her confusion, and he repeated it, slower and simpler, then simpler again. Then he ran a talon along the dirt, scoring out a pair of messy words.
HELP ME?
Of course it was the same request. Karen flicked her tail, sighed and set her eyes to deny him again. Then she paused. There wasn’t any concern, any pity, any worry. If she kept insulting him, there was decent odds he’d bowl her over with ease and not feel a pang of regret. In a sense, as messy as she was, they were equal.
She swallowed. He was made to fly. There was something sickening about the failure to do so. But, even with this stupid display, he wasn’t an awful specimen- just bruised and slightly bloody at the wing. How hard had be been hitting them off the ground? Given time and training, he had more of a chance to fly than she had of handling sorcery. And he was picking himself up, keen and ready to try again.
“Fine, but I’m not your nanny, I’m just going to give advice.” She stepped close, parsing the distance, “And set a brilliant example, of course. Now, see around… this line here?”
She scraped out a parallel line to the log, around two or three pounces away.
“You’re going to keep jumping between them until you can make it in one bound. Then we’ll push them further apart. Use your legs, your wings, everything, until you can jump over mountains.”