Domhnall 1.3

In the dreamscape, Domhnall lay on the ground, looking blankly at the sky. With how things were, he was still wondering if the dream was fake. Both of the dreams. Perhaps a result of drunkenness? He doubted it, however. It was too detailed, too clear, and his gut was telling him it was real.

He supposed this was that ‘surprise’ Morrigan was talking about on his first day.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to think of the announcement. Should it have been so surprising? It should. But still, with all that ‘hi-tech’, they should’ve expected that something was wrong. Not that any of that mattered now.

More importantly, what did he think of being here? All things considered it was not the worst. He had high status and a much better starting position. Any of his ambitions could be more easily accomplished now. The specifics would have to change, but he knew what he wanted. To leave his mark on the world, no matter how big or small. It was something most people wanted, and he was no exception. At least here, he would have an easier time doing exactly that.

Regarding his ties with Earth, they were non-existent. He had few friends, with his closest friend already here. He wondered if they were lucky or unlucky to have all three abducted. A bit unfortunate that Susan was not here, but what could he do? And that was more of Markus’ issue than his own.

Having Markus here was a nice bonus. However, they have never been super close.

As for his family? His new one, that is. They were all right and he’ll somewhat miss them. Just not the sort of thing he’d cry endlessly over.

The only things that genuinely affected him were his plans and his life. All of his it, gone like a puff of smoke. Plans don’t survive the real world, as they say. Though, they probably were not talking about getting ripped out of your current reality into somewhere else entirely.

He really hoped the others were fine though. Yes, the transmigration might not have affected him that much, but the same couldn't be said about Theo and Markus. One was too concerned with his family, the other was a hopeless lovebird. Ugh, he could already see what would happen. They’d stay strong. He’d expect that much from them at least.

Not to mention all the others involved. He wondered how many of them would simply kill themselves, or just die because they were too mentally distraught. Very curious.

These revelations invoked a lot of his curiosity. Souls, gods, and whatever more there is. He must ask the Druid about this. If what they said was true, he’d be dead if he died here. So, no way out, which was to be expected.

Though, what was death like? There were literal heavens and hells all over the place. Would it be so bad to be dead in this world? That’s a question for another time. He knew very little about myths and legends, especially those of Celtic origins.

So off he went, out of his dream, his bed, and then his house. He headed for Kevlyn’s home. On a serious note, why did he build his home in such a godforsaken place? Having to row a boat just after awakening is torture, not to mention the headache he suffered from the hangover. Is there some sort of cure here? Some magical cure? That garden might have some, now that he thought about it.

He took a whole hour rowing across. He kept moving around in circles. The original should have taken some time to build his alcohol resistance.

During this time, he also got to gaze at his face. It made him sad. Sure, his nose had been on the larger side of things, his skin was not the best, and his hair was a mess, but they were his. He sighed and got out of his boat.

He staggered toward the house. Not a good look. At least he made it to the door in one piece.

Kelvyn seemed to have expected him, as he opened the door the moment Don knocked. He even had a potion in his hand, which he offered to the young man.

He looked at the viscous green liquid for a second before gulping it all down. The flavour left much to be desired, but the effects more than made up for it. His head was cleared, and the world stopped spinning around. It didn’t go away completely, but it was enough. He muttered. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He looked up and down. “Tsk. You still look like shit. Why did you come here this early in the morning?”

“It’s not that early, is it?”

“About an hour after sunrise. You are still drunk, it seemed. Spending an entire hour rowing a boat, perhaps I could introduce you to Mavis, he’s in dire need of sailors.”

“Ah.” He wryly smiled. “I’m just excited, I suppose. To learn magic. Something like that.”

“That’s a good attitude, but there’s no need for that.”

Don shrugged. “Do you have anything on soul magic? Or on divinity?”

The Druid frowned. “I won’t ask why you’d suddenly want such a thing, but either way, those are advanced subjects. You are just starting. It’s not like this tiny town has a lot to be used. You saw the library, didn’t you? That’s all there is. There’s not even a single basement level. Though, now that I think about it, you are going to Armagh. There’s much more there.”

“I’m in luck then.”

“There’s nothing to be smug about. You just got access to magic yet have no time to train with it. Furthermore, the latter subject is restricted, while the former had barely anything. You can try going to the Great South, where we Druids have less control, and where the Egyptians come and go. But we are getting ahead of ourselves here. Not to mention, you are having your coming-of-age ceremony, you know? Time is of the essence.”

That sounded very concerning. He knew nothing about the upcoming event, but it seemed that it wasn’t as simple as he had thought.

“Any advice?”

“It’s different for each person. For someone of your stature, perhaps there’d be something extra. To spice things up, you know. The Lady does love to give her favourites additional tasks.”

He groaned. “Since time is of the essence, can you help me train?”

“I do have the time, so sure. After analysing yesterday’s results, it seems you’d do good with fire. Not surprising. Charms and such are based on your comprehension, and I don’t think that would help now. Should we check your animal form? It’s always a good opening position.”

Fire… sounds useful. With his dreamscape, he’d always have time to learn, so with time, that shouldn’t be an issue. He was a bit confused, though. “Animal form?”

“Yes. Every Druid has at least one. They are vital to our powers. Since you aren’t in your best state, I won’t inquire about your progress. It’s only been a day, too. However, an animal form can help with that. They influence the way we think, after all. Or rather, they are influenced by one’s thoughts. Either can happen.” He then sighed. “Most start their training at 13, some even earlier. While you... Let’s just hope you can catch up.”

Don shrugged.

The man led him into his home. It was a humble shack, with most of it filled with items, herbs, and scrolls. At least it was tidy. Kelvyn looked through his stock of potions, before handing him a dark blue one. “Drink it. Then just lay down and relax.”

As he watched Don holding the bottle, he commented dryly. “Now that I think about it, get out of my home before sleeping.”

“Seriously?”

“You can use the grass as your bed if that’s what you want. Just don’t lie down on the more peculiar plants. You might end up with… unpleasantness.”

“That sounds very great. Very great indeed.”

“Don’t be grumpy. Just do what I told you to.”

He mumbled in his throat, but he went outside. After a while of looking around, he decided that lying on the empty ground seemed fine enough. With that, he drank the potion in one swell swoop. His eyes glazed over and everything flashed white.

----------------------------------------

He woke up to the croaking calls of ravens. He looked around, his neck stiff and limited. The world seemed so different. It seemed so much wider, so much clearer. He was surrounded by hundreds of black birds, each cawing loudly. Like a wolf responding to a howl, he started joining in.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It was at that moment that he realised something fundamental had changed. He was a bird. A raven with beautiful black plumes, a sharp, shiny beak and claws of steel. He was still a bird though. A rather small one at that.

He gave his wings a flap. Then two. He felt the winds brush against his feathers. Then he looked at the skies high above. It had been man’s dream to fly and meet the heavens. Perhaps humanity had somewhat fulfilled that dream, with our planes and our jets. He told himself that he had flown before. It shouldn’t be too special.

Then, he spread his wings and soared into the skies. His wings felt strong, firm, and magical all at the same time. He was light, to an uncanny degree. He was flying with his own two wings.

The wind passed through every part of his body as he glided through the air. He closed his eyes, feeling it touch his soul. He soared up high, then headed downward at a neck-breaking speed. He made a turn back up. His mind was solely occupied by the joy of flight, and instinct was the sole steering wheel.

The winds strengthened as if a storm was brewing afar. He felt as if he was sailing, skillfully guiding himself through the rocky waves.

This magical feeling of twisting and turning in the air was unreal. It was what humanity had always been seeking, right from the start. And what a worthy pursuit it was.

…

He opened his eyes suddenly. He jumped up, glancing around quickly. He looked at his arms, his body, it was back to the same old.

“Have you calmed yourself yet? What did you become?”

“I- What happened?”

“It was just a vision. It should tell you what your first form is.”

“I turned into a raven.”

He stayed silent for a moment, before sighing. “What did I expect? Of course, it’d be a raven.”

“Is that bad?”

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckled. “It’s nothing. It should just have been obvious. Anyway, that’s the end of our session. Take these leaves, and chew on them before bed every day. It’s essential you do so on time.”

“Wait, we are already done? And we aren’t finished with the animal form yet?”

“Of course not.” He frowned. “Well, that’s the answer to the latter question. It’d take at least a month, for some, it’s even longer. As for your earlier question, yes. Look at the sky. It’s already nearing sunset. Yes, this specific session is indeed ‘done’.”

“Oh.”

“Uh-huh. Also, the day after tomorrow you’d probably leave, so we won’t do anything. Just concentrate on this part of magic. By that, I mean read up on ravens. The more you understand what you’re turning into, the better. Okay?”

He was a bit disheartened, but he understood. “Got it.”

“Also, your brother is waiting outside. Good luck with whatever is ahead. You don’t need to come over the next few days.”

Conroy waved at him as he got to the small dinghy. “Had a good time?”

“Kind of. It was interesting.”

“Ay, true that.” He threw Don a paddle, and the two began their way back. “So… what’s your form.”

“A raven.”

He chuckled. “Not too surprised.”

Don rolled his eyes. “Everyone said that.”

“By ‘everyone’ you mean two people?”

“The others will say the same. You cannot deny that, right?”

Conroy shrugged.

“What are your forms?”

“Eagle and wolf.”

“Seems way better than a raven.”

“Is that jealousy I see,” he laughed. He said, “They are not the greatest, but I like them. And a raven is a good option. I came here without the need for a boat because we can fly. Not many can say the same.”

He thought about flying and all of its joys. It seemed to have gotten into his head as he couldn’t help but grin at the memory.

“See?”

“I suppose so.”

“On a more serious note, don’t go reveal your form to others easily. There’s no need to explain why right?”

He nodded. Probably has something to do with letting your foes know your power.

Conroy smiled. “Since you already spent all day with Kelvyn, I’m a tad bit jealous. Let’s go hunting tomorrow.”

“Uh…I think I’d pass. I want to use my time effectively.”

“You are trying really hard to break your brother’s heart. Just an hour ago, I caught some very big fish. That’s our dinner. Or it should have been. Now it’s mine.”

“Do you need to be that petty?”

“Hey, it’s your fault, not mine.”

----------------------------------------

That night, he went to bed as sober as one could be. He had learnt his lesson: he’d need to build up his alcohol tolerance levels. But until then, he’d have to make do with this.

It was actually quite rare for him to drink any alcoholic beverages. Apart from the fact that it was a money-and-time-waster, he also never acquired a taste for such drinks. Which is good, all things considered.

With his mind clear, he was actually able to think somewhat effectively now.

First, being “Donal” was even more paramount. He had realized that most of the minute details, for example, the way he touched the back of his ear every few minutes, the fact that he licked his lips every time he spoke. Those things he would do subconsciously, without thought. As a result, he mostly needed to pay attention to his personality, as a too drastic shift would not be good.

The boy was unconfident and humble. He could even be considered timid. Not too surprising, considering his position. The boy had a massive inferiority complex, always looking at his father and older brother as unsurmountable hurdles.

It was nice that he was not an arrogant prince (and nice that he did not have to act the part); he was actually a decent person. Donal had been diligent from birth, always working hard, always beating himself up over every misstep. He was compassionate, and instead of focusing on expanding the borders, he had always wanted to improve the lives of people as a whole. Though, to varying degrees of success. He had a good heart, just not the head for it.

Not to mention, being decent was not enough, and being compassionate was not going to do him any favours. Sure, getting the commoners on his side would be good, but the boy had neither the ability nor the influence to achieve such ambitions. Despite his strong starting position, he thought of things too simply. The boy believed that as long as he could become strong and skilled, he would secure his place. He did not make use of his greatest strength, such as his sway over the pious, therefore throwing away his only real advantage.

He briefly wondered if the boy had listened to too many tales of heroism. To be fair, it was not a completely outrageous decision. However, that would only be true if he had the potential to reach the heights of power. He simply overestimated himself, which was ironic, considering the boy had always placed himself below his kin.

If nothing else happened, he doubted ‘Donal’ would ever get out of his father’s, or even his brother’s shadows. He’d probably just lose his position as heir one day or the other.

He, however, did not intend to allow that. This was partly because of the attractiveness of the position. However, the main thing was his concern over his own life. Conroy might be truly friendly, but once he rose to kingship, he would not want to keep a threat so close by. He surely would not. Even if his brother had no such intentions, his court and men would advise killing off Donal, “just to be safe”. Throw their youngest brother on the chopping block too, while he was at it.

Even in the best-case scenario, where everything would play out perfectly, he would still be concerned. The mere fact that his death was a possibility was enough reason to try his hand at the struggle for the throne. He had always wanted control; from the moment he could understand human speech. Control over his own life, control over the people surrounding himself. It was not healthy, that much it was sure of, but it meant safety and certainty.

An indescribable warmth encased his entire body. A flash of white light blinded his eyes. An incessant ringing in both his ears.

In an instant, everything stopped, as if nothing had ever happened. However, everything also changed.

The world around him was now fully clear as if a layer of mist had finally been lifted. His eyes were the same, not much better, and yet everything around him felt magnified and beautified. Everything glowed with more colour, more detail, and more character. He saw the winds dancing, each to a different tune; he saw the earth whispering its tender affection, offering its protective embrace; and he saw the trees moaning, as weirdy arousing as that was.

Inwards, he felt a constant, unstoppable churning. This time, he did not see, but he just knew small torrents of flame were travelling in his very soul. They should be unruly flames, and yet, they were measured in their movement, never stumbling out of their predetermined route. These “routes” cover his outer spirit, almost hugging him, whilst threatening anything that dared come close.

He just instinctually knew that this was magic. And instinctively, he also knew that all things in the world would be his, should he control this force of nature.

Donal bit his tongue, snapping himself out of his trance. All the changes remained; they were fully his. However, he was no longer drunk with magic. This should be the first step; it should and was an easy thing to accomplish.

At the same time, he was not wrong to want to grasp it with his own two hands. Such a beautiful, powerful thing, was he wrong for wanting it? He could not help but grin.

Subconsciously, Donal traced his lips. His friends had always told him he had a rather manic grin. Good to see that had not changed. However, that was not in character, and he should get to fixing it. He let out a wide, face-splitting grin for one last time, before shutting his mouth.

He now had new goals; all that was left was to finally begin.

Donal took out the dried leaf, put it in his mouth, and began chewing. It was rather tough for a dried leaf, and it managed to take quite a beating from his jaw. However, he finally chewed through…and instantly regretted it. It was sour, bitter, and salty all at the same time. It reminded him of vomit. Vomit mixed with shit.

He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. Let’s keep any thoughts of failure out of the way.

The realm of sleep then greeted him.

He was flying over a field. It should have once been teeming with life, home to animals and plants alike. Now, it was covered with corpses and chunks of flesh. He, along with his black-feathered siblings, went down, each scrounging the land for a suitable meal.

He inspected a dead horse. It was pretty fresh, intact, and did not seem to have any problems. It should serve as a nice dinner. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, before jumping in and filling his small little belly. It was a feast. A feast for the ravens.

Horse meat was quite tough, but it had a nice texture and a nice flavour. Though, that might just be his raven-brain talking. He was finding raw rotten flesh delicious, somehow. He’d rather it wasn’t his human brain doing the work.

Still, he hopped about, and soon found his way to another corpse. This time, that of a man.

He must admit that this meal was much better than the previous.