In some stretch of woods close to the edges of the Woods of Prismor, the sounds of thundering crashes can be heard echoing across the outer rim.
A young girl that seemed to be in her early teens with fair skin and a full head of long glistening black hair hiding two small horns was collecting water from the edges of a stream as she stared off into the woods; surprisingly with a look of delight rather than apprehension.
‘The great Lord seems to be having fun as usual.’ she thought. ‘I only hope Sir Blackie won’t be as grumpy. Last time, he made such a big mess that grandpa almost evacuated the village.’
She sighed at the thought. Just as she was picking up the wooden bucket that was filled, someone called out to her.
“Miiisha!”
Another girl with a ponytail approached with a trot as she called out.
“*pant* *pant* Elder Uruwan’s looking for you! It seems Blackie’s throwing another tantrum!”
Letting out a deeper sigh, the girl – Misesha, called back, “I’ll be right there!”
With a light grunt, she lifted the bucket that was almost as big as her with ease and left in a sprint – a feat no child her age can easily do, as she headed towards the village.
Near the entrance to the woods, there was a clash between two beasts.
One, a giant black horned ape with massive forearms and fur shining like black steel, and the other, a large lupine-like humanoid creature with a bone-like mask on its face while its body lit up with blue vein-like lines all over.
This was a fight between the black Tyrant, Zamorg, and the newly named Tyrant who became the focal point of the latest battle in the ongoing war against the Niskari, Morphistophelen, the Chimeric King.
Normally, the Guild would choose a fitting name for a newly discovered Tyrant, but because the Magister of the Wilds was able to “tame” it and thus receive a name for it through the Familiar Contract, the Guild had accepted it and instead provided a title.
An even rarer title that bore the rank of “King”. After hearing the Tyrant was capable of leading multiple Tyrants and a vast army of beasts, the Guild had no choice but to confer it an appropriate title worthy of its capabilities.
This gave Jortus an even greater standing within the Kingdoms with many sending him invitations to his dismay. After all, he didn’t actually tame Morphistophelen, and the beast is actually beyond his control.
As evidenced by their current situation.
“Morph, must you really do this every time you encounter a new breakthrough in your mana control?” sighed the old mage as he watched the giant humanoid beast chokehold the black primatus.
Or at least trying to, as the black Tyrant simply refused to surrender and smashed, rolled, or crashed into as many things as it could to get the changeling off its back.
With a look of exasperation, Jortus let out another sigh and continued, “I get your excitement for each and every new discovery, but turning your friend into a punching bag or test dummy isn’t really what I’d call efficient. Especially when each of you has the power to level even mountains to the ground.”
The old mage simply didn’t understand, thought Morph. Which is understandable since it’s still incapable of properly communicating its thoughts to any of the humanoid races, even if it could somewhat understand his words through their contract.
The main reason why it keeps conducting these mock battles was not only to confirm its breakthroughs in mana control, but also to determine how far its companion can adapt to the subtle adjustments it has made to its combat capabilities.
In their multitudes of clashes, the black Tyrant had shown incredible adaptability to the point the changeling believes it could be a form of specialized evolution. In other words, no matter the advantages it had in the beginning, the more they fought, the more Zamorg incorporated the efficiency in controlling its mana and refining its techniques along with its biology.
Morph thought so back then when they first fought, but it was amazing how one creature can evolve singularly in one direction and overcome its problems simply with brute force, even on a cellular level.
While the changeling incorporates said properties and evolutionary traits manually through the creatures it has consumed, the black Tyrant can simply gain those traits and resistances through sheer force of will. This meant that as long as an attack didn’t completely incapacitate it, the beast would continue to grow stronger for as long as its endurance allows.
Of course, while the changeling thought this was an amazing aspect of the black primatus and simply believed it to be an experiment, it wasn’t necessarily the same for Zamorg. From its perspective, it kept thinking that its lord simply enjoyed fighting, and with the absence of a strong foe, there was no other to satiate its bloodlust.
Not wanting to appear weak and also an enjoyer of fights, Zamorg never backed down and always fought its hardest so that it may please its lord, not realizing its growing strength in the process due to their fights that appeared almost seemingly without end.
The problem was that their rampages tend to go over the top, so the changeling struggled harder each time to calm it down, even through oxygen deprivation. Worse still, the time it took to knock it out kept getting longer and longer, so the beast might soon not even need to breath for hours or days while fighting if they kept this up.
As for sleep toxins or chemicals? It didn’t even last a few days until Zamorg was fully immune.
Reinventing a new anesthetic cocktail each time without any new data from venomous species took a lot of energy, so now that choking it out was starting to lose its effect, the changeling had to figure out an actual signal to “stop the fight” soon.
Luckily, it seems the current best method for pacifying the black Tyrant has arrived.
“My Lord, Sir Blackie! That’s enough, please! I have some snacks!”
With the young girl’s call, the black Tyrant finally calmed as the changeling let it go.
Rubbing its neck, Zamorg stared at the little girl who held on to a large round fruit.
“Come on, stop fighting or else you don’t get any snacks.”
The Tyrant snorted. It was upset that this youngling would still dare to order it around. It was cautious in the beginning since the little one had the scent of its lord, but it gradually became frustrated when it found out she held no fear or respect for it and instead gave it a strange name.
While the adults still feared it, the children eventually warmed up to it by playing silly games and even gave it a funny nickname.
This was unacceptable! It was a mighty and proud primatus; a great being feared even among Tyrants! Why should it bow down to the whims of a little –
It reached for the fruit and sulked in a corner. Not only were the treats she brought delectable, it just couldn’t bring itself to stay angry at one that appeared so fragile.
Seeing this, the changeling only shook its head as it shrunk down to its diminutive size. It understood that while the black Tyrant was fearsome to its foes and resilient against any challenges, it knew it was soft to younglings. Even in its own troupe, the young primatus would often play around it without fear. Sometimes, they even let it join them in their games.
It often gave a bored expression, but it was never against it, so the changeling thought it secretly enjoyed innocent company.
The young girl then approached the changeling to wipe down the dirt off its head and body. It always found the young girl quite strange for always wanting to groom it, but perhaps this was her way of showing gratitude.
Seeing her actions, it couldn’t help but think back to the events that happened after its recent conquest.
***
Almost two months prior; some time after Bolragmal and his army was defeated –
Neylune, the Fae Lord of Spring, was being fanned by some nymphs while her daughter, the little green fae, sat on her lap.
“Dear… what am I supposed to make of this…”
The other Lords arrived moments later with a surprised look after seeing Neylune’s condition. Seeing Whinereos seemingly tense and keeping from view, Fierris, the Wind Lord, approached him.
“Hey, you saw everything that happened, right? What’s wrong with Neylune?”
Surprised by the sudden question, he jumped to the side and sighed in relief upon seeing Fierris. Seeing his reaction, she furrowed her brows questioningly since he acted as though he didn’t notice the other lords’ approach earlier.
“Oh good, you’re all here. There’s… a lot to explain.”
The Lord of the Wildlings summarized the events of what happened while trying not to miss out on any of the important details as he could.
Curiosity soon turned into shock then confusion as they listened. Just what exactly had happened while they were held up?
“The Magister can provide you all with more answers. For me, that beast was originally another threat from the Void, but given the circumstances…”
Whinereos gestured towards Neylune and then the changeling, who was currently busy vomiting up some gunk that stuck onto the black Tyrant’s hands. The black primatus was clearly not pleased, but seeing its hands visibly restoring themselves, it held in its revulsion.
“I… really don’t know what to make of it…”
Left speechless and staring, the watery fae – Narissa, was the first to recover from their daze and approached Neylune.
“Sister, um… is it true?”
Snapped back to her senses, Neylune looked towards Narissa and elegantly stood up while lifting up her daughter in one hand.
“Indeed. We truly do get to keep the vessel, now remade back into the [Crown]. What’s more is that it has also chosen an Inheritor which happens to be my dear little Farora.” she smiled as she gently rubbed the little fae’s face.
The watery fae nodded and slowly turned towards Whinereos while leaning closer to Neylune for a whisper.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Does he know yet?”
Understanding what Narissa meant, Neylune giggled and responded, “Sadly, the timing was off and there was never a chance. But… perhaps it may have been for the best since if he had known, he’d probably have given up everything in saving Farora. If that happened, there might’ve been more tragedy and this miracle may not have happened.”
Nodding in understanding, Narissa then turned towards Farora and also smiled.
“She’s quite the troublemaker isn’t she. Stealing away our pretentious hope while bringing along another that held true. It’s also quite funny how she proudly claims to have found a bondmate. Does she truly know what it means to have one?”
Giggling once more, Neylune shook her head. “She’ll come to learn these things with time. For now, she must return with us to receive her true name as well as prepare her for inheriting the will of Spring.”
Narissa’s eyes widened after hearing Neylune’s plans, “Spring? Sister… you…”
The green fae quickly shook her head, “You misunderstand, Narissa. I’m far from entering the Eternal Dream. Farora is a fae born of Spring, and being quite young, she won’t be able to handle the will of Summer. That is why we must prepare her. Our [Crowns] can be exchanged once she has been fully accepted.”
Upon hearing this, the little fae began to panic. It still wanted to stay with its companions and go out on adventures together.
“Now now, Farora dear, you’ll get to see your friends in due time. For now, you have obligations to fulfill since your actions gave you no choice in the matter.”
Squealing in despair, it looked towards the changeling with eyes requesting for aid from its plight. After all, it still hadn't fulfilled what is called the "pledge of bonding" with it.
Seeing the interactions of its little friend with the green humanlike female fae earlier, the changeling clearly understood that their relationship is that of parent and child.
Now that the little one was panicking, it was wondering what transpired in their discussions. It wasn’t overly concerned about its situation, however, since rather than fear, the feelings it could detect were more of displeasure.
Sensing the changeling’s approach, Neylune turned towards it and knelt down to face it.
“My daughter has been in your care and I’m truly grateful for it, little one. For now, she requires our guidance for the powers she’s been given are too much for her to bear.”
Words still escape the changeling’s understanding, but from the gestures being shown by the fae’s mother, it took it to mean that it was time for her to come home.
It was unfortunate that it couldn’t quite learn everything it could from its little companion, but now that the human mage was willing to teach it the means to control mana, this wasn’t too much of a problem. It felt that this probably won’t be the last time it would see the little one though, since it seems that it was trying really hard to escape its mother’s grasp.
“She will come to find you once she’s ready, but for now I offer you my blessing.”
Leaning down onto the changeling, Neylune kissed the tip of its muzzle just above its nose. The act left it a strange feeling of warmth and fuzziness that was quite pleasing.
“The Faewood would know of your presence, and should you ever wish to visit us, that mark will be your guide.”
She smiled as she turned away with the little one still flailing in her grasp. The rest of the Fae Lords nodded as they understood it was finally time to leave. There was much to do including sending their gratitude to the Kingdoms of the felvalim as well as repair the land and mourn their fallen.
Seeing them off, Jortus and Loen reorganized the parties as they readied their return home. As he was organizing the groups, he noticed his new friend still staring off into the distance.
“Little one, are you perhaps already missing your fae companion?”
Turning towards the mage, the changeling wasn’t sure of his question and therefore wasn’t sure how to respond, so it merely tilted its head in wonder.
Seeing the little beast stare at him in silence with a somewhat questioning look, Jortus was sweating slightly as he wondered how to respond. Was it by coincidence that this creature understood him earlier? Then did it really request him to teach it magic? Did it really understand the details involving the contract even if it wasn’t really bound to it?
Although forming a Familiar Contract is an old form of magic, it’s not relatively common or well-received. After all, how many mages can survive an encounter with a powerful enough beast that is compatible with the magic and make it willing to become subservient?
The only thing the old mage understood was that the contract by itself lets the participants form a clear picture of what the bond entails even at its mere mention. This is the case even if the beast itself doesn’t understand human language, so perhaps some form of divinity was involved.
The old mage let his errant thoughts slide as it wasn’t the time, but just as he was about to once again ask his new little friend, the primatus Tyrants along with the two wolves approached them.
Tense due to the intimidating presence of the five beasts, Jortus slowly and quietly stepped back, but unlike him, the changeling casually approached its companions.
With its understanding of the calls and gestures of the primatus, it signaled for them to return as it was going under tutelage of the human mage.
It was glad that they seemed to understand it as they began to communicate with each other and call the rest of the troupe to leave, but for some reason only the red and white Tyrants decided to go while the black one remained.
Confused at this, the changeling tilted its head at the black Tyrant questioningly, but it merely lightly stomped its forelimbs on the ground to show it was ready for action.
Unbeknownst to the changeling, the three Tyrants discussed amongst themselves who would stay with their new lord as they only understood it had some business with the humans. Knowing that their troupe was already stronger due to their lord’s influence, they didn’t need all three of them to stay so they chose the greatest of them to protect their lord until his return.
As for the twin wolves, there wasn’t much to be said. Where their parent went, they followed.
Seeing the three refusing to budge from their spot, the changeling scratched under its jaw in thought. The humans were intimidated by their presence so it wondered if there was a way to diminish it.
Having an idea, it gestured to them by showing its arms spread open then bringing them closer together as it pointed to itself. It wasn’t sure if they understood what it was trying to convey, but the wolves seemed to have formed an understanding and immediately took action.
The mana in their bodies flared as their sizes began to gradually shrink to the size of little pups. To the unknowing, the pair just looked like a couple of wolf pups; one white and one black.
Both Jortus and the changeling were shocked at this development since to the mage, this was completely unheard of in species outside of shapeshifters or certain animals that can change their volume appearance-wise. On the other hand, the changeling never thought its haphazard exposure of its unstable cells back then would result in this.
Seeing the twins transform, Zamorg had a rough idea of what it needed to do and tried to mimic their actions. It already had an understanding of altering its body, so it didn’t take much but unlike the two wolves who were exposed during their developmental stages, its transformation abilities were limited.
This resulted in it turning into something akin to a six-foot baboon-faced horned gorilla with two small tusks sticking out of its lower jaw. It was still pretty large since it was the size of a large adult gorilla, but it should appear less menacing… somewhat.
Satisfied with its group’s performance, the changeling nodded in approval then turned towards the mage to show that they were ready.
“You can’t be serious.”
Speaking from a distance away, Loen couldn’t help but utter such words after seeing their performance.
Turning towards him, Jortus could only shrug, “Sadly, it’s out of my hands.”
Despite the setbacks, the expeditionary force was able to journey home without much incident while accompanied by their strange new companions.
Due to this, it wasn't long until they arrived at the edge of Noctalum, meeting the Kingdoms forces that were meant to reinforce them, but were way too late.
The meeting took a few days due to how much needed to be reported, but the changeling was unperturbed as it still had much of its recent acquisition to process. The wolf pups simply played, sometimes even with the other human parties, while no one dared to approach the black horned gorilla who had a menacing presence.
After discussing with the leaders of the events that transpired, the reinforcement armies' leaders continuously eyed the changeling and its companions suspiciously, but left with no altercation due to the strong insistence of Jortus and some within the expeditionary force that they were nothing to be concerned about.
After all, their main concern was the Niskari threat and many were already expecting the worst due to the inability of their forces to act swiftly, but with that already being dealt with and with the most impressive results, others would be suspicious, but most would be elated if not relieved.
With their jobs done, most of the expedition split and joined with their corresponding alliances, leaving only Jortus, Loen and his party, and Gern along with his two companions if not counting the changeling and its group.
“We’ll take a break at Uruwan’s village. Those confounded nobles of the High Council sure don’t know how to treat an old man right. Gah, my back’s killing me.”
The changeling wondered why the old mage kept expressing pain. The old human’s physique was quite well-built for his age and there were no signs of diseases or damage within his internal organs as far as it could tell.
“I’d like to see that squirt Rakai’s reaction when he finds out about you. He still believes he owes you for saving his little girl. A shame about the scars left from her experience, but of course having her alive and well is so much better than the alternative. Especially after what that poor girl had to go through.”
It wasn’t long until their group arrived at the Kaijin village. As soon as the watchers spotted them and recognized their party, most of the villagers welcomed them at the entrance.
Uruwan, followed by Rikarn and Rakai, met them at the head of the goup, but were soon stunned after seeing the approach of a great black beast.
“Jortus, it is good to know you’ve returned alive and well. I’d like to hear more of what happened, but pray tell, what is this beast?”
Smiling ruefully, he approached Uruwan and spoke to him in a low voice, “I’ll be sure to explain to you fully, but for now please inform everyone to not be concerned about my beastly friends here. They’re… more than what they seem, but I assure you they won’t bring trouble to the village.”
Turning towards Jortus in a confused manner, he then asked, “Friends? There’s more than one?”
The old mage then turned to gesture with his head pointing to a spot below the black ape-beast.
It was only then that the elder along with the two kaijin brothers noticed the bipedal little beast along with two wolf pups. What was more shocking was that Misesha, Rakai’s daughter, was already a step ahead and was standing directly in front of the little gnoll-like creature.
“You seem familiar, little guy.” she said as she looked down on the changeling who was at least two heads shorter than she was.
Unlike the girl, the changeling immediately recognized her. This was the little human that it had restored alongside the male wolf pup back then.
Seeing the cloth cap she was wearing to hide her hairless head and the terrible pink burn-like scars across her body, it understood that the repairs it made back then were quite shoddy.
Unable to tolerate the fact it left a job unfinished, especially one involving biological restoration, it decided to restore her on the spot.
Its rational mind believed this was an unnecessary and wasteful use of its biomatter since the kaijin were already in their favor, but the primary mind believed this was an insult to its prided abilities and not really a waste considering how much biomass it has stored and how little it would need to fix this female youngling.
It still thought it was unnecessary but despite its preference to not waste material, it was a minor issue that the rational mind can easily let go of. As long as the primary mind is made aware and isn’t making an illogical decision, matters like these where it can choose to heal one or a hundred can be made to pass.
Seeing tendrils coming out of the changeling’s palm carrying and surrounding Misesha, the other kaijin were about to react but realized the scene appeared familiar. After all, it wasn’t long ago where they spent literal hours witnessing this same incident.
“Morph, what are you…!”
Jortus was about to question its actions, but then noticed the same thing as the kaijin who were more sensitive to the actions of beasts. The tendrils were performing the same monotonous systematic motions he saw before that was gradually repairing tissue damage.
Perhaps the strangest among them was Misesha who didn’t flinch at all when she saw the tendrils appear then grab on to her. The girl merely looked in wonder as she closed her eyes to a familiar warm and tingling sensation she felt before.
To her, rather than pain and apprehension, it felt more like a gentle embrace that gradually made the soreness from her scars go away. It was the same sensation from back then that gave her comfort and made the nightmares go away.
With its abilities having greatly improved, it didn’t take more than a few minutes for the changeling to successfully finish its job.
When it was done, before them stood a beautiful young girl with glistening black hair and slightly pinkish healthy skin.
Unlike the adult male human, the woman and the human-child-like creature whose damage required it removing all their external coverings, the damage on this girl was slight and thus didn’t require extreme sanitation that required removing anything exterior.
The girl slowly opened her eyes and for the first time in a long while, saw her hands no longer covered in sore scarred flesh. She twirled her body to see all around her and found she could move freely without feeling any more pain.
Seeing her condition, Rakai couldn’t help but fall to his knees with tears in his eyes.
“Mi- Misesha… s-she’s fully healed…”
The whole of the village who witnessed this cheered as they were once again blessed by another miracle knowing it was the same beast that once aided them.
Jortus, despite being also happy for his friend, couldn’t help but notice a slight discrepancy considering his skills in analysis and his eye for details.
“Rakai… how old was Misesha again?”
Shaken out of his stupor but still kneeling, the kaijin turned towards the mage in confusion but nonetheless answered, “She just turned twelve summers this season, why?”
The old mage’s eyes narrowed upon hearing this and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow after observing the girl in more detail before turning to Rakai.
“Does she not look slightly older to you? Either my eyes are finally going or I swear she currently looks like a girl at fourteen or fifteen.”
Stunned after hearing this, the kaijin was about to question the old mage further until he heard his daughter’s exclamation.
“Dad! I’ve decided! Please let me offer myself to this great Lord!”
On this day, another fell victim to the whims of their child and had temporarily left the domain of consciousness.
***