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Mushroombird unfurled her coat. Yves watched the delicate feathers shifting as she carefully folded it in her lap. “I must say, it is quite hot,” she remarked. “Did you really need to bring us here?”
“Well, I guess it’s better than the storms,” Twig offered.
“But the rain was much cooler,” countered Mushroombird.
“You forget that it was freezing. And toxic,” Twig reminded her.
“True, true,” said Mushroombird.
There was a pause in which Yves just stared at the desert, his focus unconsciously fixed on moving the sled along. There were many pauses like this, but he had long stopped fighting, or even noticing, his blackouts. He was too much in pain and too sick and too fucking stuck with himself in this never-ending, never-changing desert plane, with the burning sun above and the burning sand below and the burning air all around him.
“A bit of rain would be nice,” Twig pointed out.
“Also not wrong,” said Mushroombird.
Again, the conversation halted until Yves resurfaced for a few more sentences.
“At least you can speed up now, with the winds gone,” said Twig.
“Yes,” said Yves.
“Well, there is only so much you can say about the weather,” said Mushroombird.
In truth, there was a great deal of less elaborate conversation among Yves and his shamans as they discussed all the thisses and thats, and all the whats and whatnots he could come up with in his solitary agony. Most of these discussions would be incomprehensible to anyone but Yves. With each blackout and return to consciousness, his memory conveniently reshaped all his past whining into acceptable concerns and considerations, until they passed for sensible reasoning. After over four weeks, he got quite good at filtering out the angry outbursts and the self-pity and the paranoia, eventually recalling his own utterances with nothing but the coherence and sophistication he expected from himself.
“So what are you going to do about this?” Mushroombird gestured towards him again.
Minutes passed, or perhaps hours, in which Yves blanked out once more. By now, he could almost do it on purpose. Somehow, the sled continued to move forward nonetheless.
“Let’s phrase it like this,” said Twig. “Returning to your earlier question —“
“What question?” asked Yves.
“Please don’t interrupt,” said Twig. “We are talking about all these random things because you are distracting yourself.”
“From yourself,” added Mushroombird, still gesturing.
“What question?” repeated Yves.
“And you chose the topic of affection because you ran out of all the other, even more distracting things,” continued Twig.
“What question?”
“You wanted to know why we were discussing beauty and affection in the first place,” Mushroombird clarified. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“In other words,” said Twig, “Why aren’t we talking about the important things?”
“Should we examine the artefacts?” Yves asked.
“No?” said Twig.
“No,” agreed Mushroombird.
“You’re not even trying to be subtle,” remarked Twig.
“It’s too dangerous,” emphasised Mushroombird.
“It’s also downright stupid. And too exhausting,” concluded Twig. “So what are we doing?”
Mushroombird’s gestures shifted from Yves to the desert ahead.
“First, I need a healer,” said Yves. “There is no reason to talk about anything until then. Everything else … comes afterwards.”
Yves needed so many things. He felt the strong desire to conjure a duck. He wanted to bury himself in ducks, but his energy reserves were perilously close to depletion. There was not enough Adhar in his surroundings to sustain his body and the Jabarrah. On top of that, he needed to constantly feed the Levitation Staff.
Yves was not just terribly wounded; his body was diminishing with each passing day. Like humans deprived of food, his body was eating itself. Even an uninjured wizard who refrained from using any magic would gradually lose his energy if he lingered too long on the Northlands Plateau. It happened to everyone without an adequate reserve of energy crystals. There was simply too little Adhar to even sustain the body.
Humans ate to sustain themselves. The thought of food reminded Yves of his potatoes, crammed away somewhere in one of the chests. The craving was intense, but he knew his body would not tolerate it. Oh gods, he would need at least another three weeks to reach the Barnstream settlements.
“Three weeks is more than half over,” Twig pointed out.
“It’s only three more weeks until you reach the settlements,” Mushroombird added.
“Three more weeks to live a full-eights life,” Twig reassured.
“I will not last for three weeks,” said Yves.
“The Jabarrah will keep you alive,” Twig reminded him. “Focus on that.”
“There will be a healer,” said Mushroombird.
“You cannot be sure,” said Yves. The northern Barnstream region was sparsely populated, and even when healers settled there every so often, their presence was uncertain. When Yves had stayed in Bertellems six years ago, there had been only one single healer for the entire array of settlements. He could not rely on him, or any others, still being there.
“The Wizard With Six Arms is there,” said Twig.
“Yes. He will fix your body. He fixes everything,” affirmed Mushroombird.
“Everything except my eyes,” said Yves. And even in all other, more pressing matters, The Wizard With Six Arms was his absolute last oh fuck no there must be another way resort.
“The Witch Mother will take care of your eyes,” said Mushroombird.
“I am not sure.”
“Of course,” said Mushroombird.
“The mirrors are broken.”
“One is. The other one looked kinda … all right?”
“That is just wishful thinking.”
“You made them once,” Twig reminded him. “You can make them again.”
But he really did not want to. And even if he did, yes, even if he somehow managed to gather all the components and to build and enchant another ethereal mirror, Yves could not simply enter the Mirror Dimension again. Even if he found the Crystalline Trench, retrieved its crystals and returned to the witch mother before going blind, he would still have to fulfil her third demand — unspecified, but something that required him to access and wield magic in the Mirror Dimension. Whatever it was, Yves could not enter. He would shift right into the Vicha.
“Can you get rid of the gateway key?” asked Twig.
“See?” challenged Mushroombird. “These are the important things we really need to address.”
Yves attempted to deliberately black out.
“Do you think it’s shrinking, though?” asked Twig.
“I don’t know.” The presence of the Vicha was overwhelmingly dark. It was far too intense to discern any subtle changes that might have occurred in just over three weeks. Through the cliff behemoth, it had gained size and energy that would take years rather than months to diminish. And that was before the Vicha had absorbed so much of his energy in the Mirror Dimension. Yves could not predict to what extent the Vicha lost energy in this dimensional plane — or even if it diminished at all; he could not simply equate the occurrences there with his own plane. All he knew was that it felt horrible. It was horror encapsulated and compressed into the shape of a 4 km sphere. This was his life now; a sickening existence cursed by witchcraft and elfin touch, destined to succumb to darkness at the vile center of what was likely the most twisted Vicha the continent had ever seen.
Yves tried really hard to black out, and the unconscious started to backtrack and do some filtering.
“What about your transformation?” asked Mushroombird.
“Just how weird was that?” exhaled Twig.
“Could you do that again?” asked Mushroombird.
“What was that?” asked Twig.
Yves said nothing.
“Can you not seek someone’s help?” suggested Mushroombird.
“Even some explanations could shift your entire perspective,” emphasised Twig.
Yves' first thought was of a Lightshifter luminary at Emery Thurm, a potent glass wizard who could likely learn to traverse the mirror plane faster than Yves had done. However, Abarius Fermeah was one of Yves’ former teachers, a master deeply devoted to the academy. Consulting him would entail surrendering his ethereal mirrors and would certainly lead to severe punishment for appropriating forbidden arcane knowledge. Seeking counsel from any academy master would entail rigorous interrogations about the very many things Yves should not have done. If he chose that path, his arrangement with the witch mother would crumble. He might as well forfeit his life right here and now. “Where forbidden magic appears,” as Master Blackmoor had once warned, “wizards disappear.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Yves swiftly dismissed the idea of seeking help from or within the academy. It was far too risky. He was not delusional enough to approach his former mentors under false pretences or believe he could sneak unnoticed into the hidden underground chambers. Not a chance, not with all the Socks of Invisibility that this world had to offer.
The second wizard Yves considered was a senior artefact hunter named Urumir Vahl. Since Yves' own tomes did not address his concerns about his transformation and the new abilities that came with it, he wanted to learn from an expert Worldbender's experience. Besides individual academy masters, Yves had never encountered anyone who compared to Vahl. Vahl was a versatile transformer who could shift into astonishing creatures and even objects.
After taking on a new, more ethereal form in the mirror world, Yves felt compelled to explore this disposition to understand and control his changing body. It was an absurd idea. Shapeshifting did not fall under the Lightshifter spectrum. It should be impossible for a wizard belonging to one spectrum to develop abilities inherent to the other two spectra. But then again, the physical nature of the Mirror Dimension differed from the known world, and Yves could only describe his experience as a transformation.
When the energies of the Mirror World, the Vicha and the Stalker had quite literally overwhelmed him, Yves had been forced to act swiftly under intense strain and stress. It had not been until after his return that he had started to reflect on what had occurred. The more he thought about it, the more unnerved he became. Like a Worldbender transformer, he had altered his physical form. He had manipulated his appearance and even heightened his senses.
There is not a distinct line between different magical abilities, but rather a spectrum that you belong to. Yves was a 𝔖𝔦𝔶𝔦𝔯 [Siyir], which, roughly translated from Byrmir, comprises the Lightshifter spectrum. From one end of the spectrum to the other, Lightshifters are illusionists, glass wizards, light wizards, and seers. Amongst these capabilities, Yves’ core disposition lay in glass magic. It came naturally to him, whereas his abilities on the perceiving end of the spectrum were sorely lacking. Apart from being unable to see light fragments, he utterly failed as a seer. Nevertheless, he demonstrated potential as an illusionist, adept at creating both visual and physical illusions.
Not all glass wizards share Yves' disposition as an illusionist, nor do all illusionists possess the ability to craft physical manifestations. A Lightshifter wizard may dedicate two centuries to mastering unparalleled visual illusions, but if his inherent disposition does not lean towards it, he will never materialise these creations physically, unlike Yves, who had displayed such capabilities since youth.
Yves' illusions were experiences. They engaged all the senses, immersing through sight, sound, smell, and touch. With each passing day, he honed his skills — except on those occasions when survival took precedence. Recently, he had undertaken specific training to infuse his animated illusions with routine movements such as blinking and breathing. It was an eerie endeavour for, once set in motion, these illusions would continue these actions independently, persisting even when Yves was not consciously envisioning and directing them. For example, a few months prior, he had crafted a fearsome beast intended to deter goblins. As he circled around the creature, meticulously refining the intricate details that made the difference between realistic and real, the beast would inhale and exhale, its eyes ever so often blinking at him in a random, rather unsettling manner. In essence, it was the challenging feat of sustaining repetitive movements through the subconscious.
While Yves had ample room for improvement in his actual skill, he seemed to have no limitations regarding his disposition as a Lightshifter creator. The ability to create and manipulate physical matter brought him as close to worldbending as a Lightshifter could possibly get. Both the fully disposed Lightshifter illusionist and the Worldbender transformer are classified as creators, defining the border between the 𝔖𝔦𝔶𝔦𝔯 and 𝔖𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔯 [Sempar] spectrums.
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The 𝔖𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔯 spectrum is that of Worldbenders, encompassing those who, from the shifting to the infusing to the creating end of their spectrum, could impact their surroundings, manipulate other beings' physical forms, and transform their own bodies. In other words, they are elementers, healers, and transformers.
In contrast to Lightshifters, who generally harbour one core disposition and additional, less prominent dispositions for the various abilities amidst their spectrum, Worldbenders are known to develop only one of their spectrum’s three dispositions. Within this disposition, they show varying potential. In the same manner that not all illusionists can create physical matter, a Worldbender elementer’s disposition, for example, determines whether he can control fire, air or water.
Transformers, too, face limitations in their potential for shapeshifting. In general, as a Worldbender's disposition expands towards the border between worldbending and lightshifting, his potential for versatile transformations increases. As far as Yves knew, the majority of transformers could not deviate far from their core humanoid form. Only those who approach the border to lightshifting in the same way that Yves’ disposition for physical illusions approached worldbending had the capability to alter their body to the point where they could freely surpass their own physical limitations through the most elusive alterations into vastly different creatures. A fully disposed transformer has the potential to turn into individuals from other races, beasts of all sizes, and even take on the appearance of objects.
So while Yves possessed the ability to create and control a temporary physical illusion of Midnight, a proficient and respectively disposed Worldbender transformer could shift into the form of a pathera and retain that shape for an indefinite duration. Now, at this point you might think that these two abilities seem vastly different. You might find yourself wondering why they shared —
“Why do these dispositions define a border?” asked Mushroombird. “Aren’t they completely different abilities?”
“Thank you,” said Yves.
Yes and no. One fundamental disparity separates illusions from transformer magic: Regardless of their skill and versatility, Worldbender transformers cannot detach parts of themselves that then operate autonomously. While Yves could conjure ten patheras simultaneously (each breathing, blinking, and flicking their tails in the most eerie manner), transformers remain conscious within a singular physical form.
Your first impulse may be to think that —
“So isn’t illusionist magic much more complex than shapeshifting?” asked Mushroombird. “As an illusionist, you need to handle your own body and, simultaneously, maintain all your illusions. You control multiple bodies at the same time, whereas a shapeshifter merely alters his own body.”
“Your question highlights the core difference between these two types of magic,” said Yves. “The origin of control.”
And this is where it becomes intricate.
Despite their tangible form and convincing complexity, Yves’ creations were transient, existing only as long as he sustained them with his own energy. An exception to this are visual overlays and glamour spells, like those placed upon the lighthouse and its decoy treasures. In terms of magical theory, these spells are commonly categorised as secondary illusions, capable of enduring in the absence of their caster by drawing upon stored energy. Primary or true illusions, conversely, are autonomously conjured and actively sustained by the Lightshifter illusionist.
Worldbender transformers, on the other hand, used their magic to shift and then lived as the new body they created. From the outside, you see a pathera –
But what is INSIDE?
It is one thing to shift your wizard appearance; to give yourself different proportions or facial features. It is another thing to change yourself to a race that looks quite similar to wizards, such as tairan. It is a completely different thing to shift into a beast. Think about it. What happens to everything inside your body? And what happens to everything that makes you a wizard?
“If you became a pathera like Midnight, you might still … kind of … rearrange your insides?” proposed Mushroombird.
“But what if you wanted to turn into a beast significantly larger or smaller than you?” challenged Yves. “And what if you became an object?”
“Rude,” said Mushroombird.
“That is not what I meant,” said Yves.
“Who would want to be an object?” asked Mushroombird.
“Guys, focus,” said Twig. “Please finish the lecture, we need to get back to Vahl.”
“We have three weeks,” said Yves.
“Yes, but will you be conscious and focussed for these three weeks? Tell me just one thing, anything you remember from the last three days and I will rest my case.”
“Fair enough,” said Yves.
Yves’ illusions could be hollow or simply filled with random physical mass. Depending on his skill, they could also be realistically detailed, with bones, muscles, organs and all. If he made mistakes or failed to maintain such a detailed pathera illusion, guts and all, it either looked stupid or dissipated. A failed illusion did not harm him because the origin of control was external. No part of his consciousness transferred to his illusions. Yves controlled them from the outside, from within his own body.
But with shapeshifting, the origin of control lay inside the creation. A shapeshifter uses his magic on himself. Once the transformation into another living being is complete, the body is his new physical form. But if he messes up when shifting, he dies. Yves’ illusions could appear stunningly beautiful from the outside and still look like shit from inside, but if a transformer’s body becomes un-liveable while he shapeshifts, there are no second chances. They just die. It happens. Yves had personally seen it happen at Emery Thurm.
In the end, Yves was a Lightshifter, and there was only so much that his Worldbender commilita had revealed to him about their craft. But he knew that even a successful beast transformation harboured great risks. It was said that it may impact your mind to the extent that you found yourself unable to shift back or even forgetting your original wizard existence. There are Worldbender transformers who consciously decide to live as beasts for a prolonged time, often taking the shape of their familiar. There are also those who feel a strong pull to try shifting into their familiar at least once, even when they are far from prepared, and then never make it back. Sometimes, you see them roam the Veridian Expanse in pairs. His Worldbender commilita had been warned about this sensation. It can become an irrepressible compulsion, especially for those who had bonded with a strong-willed familiar — you should never forget that a familiar is not the same as a beast, and that their bond entails a shared path, not one that is determined by the wizard alone.
“Yves, please,” interrupted Twig. “This is not the time.”
“Right.”
As a Worldbender transformer, Urumir Vahl ventured closer to the impossible than should have been possible. Not only could he transform into creatures far exceeding his own body mass, but he could also appear as multiple beings simultaneously. As insane as it sounded, these entities were interconnected by nothing more than the subtlest threads of matter, a link that appeared as no more than the faintest of shadows. In motion, he could navigate obstacles by having these threads move over or under them, or by shaping them in a way that they opened and closed around any hindrances, never fully severed.
Yves had witnessed this with his own eyes when he had a mere quarter of eights. Back then, lacking the experience and knowledge to fully comprehend the exceptional and incomparable abilities of this wizard, he had been unable to grasp the true extent of Vahl's powers. But today, he was stunned by the mental and physical strain such linking of multiple forms must entail. It was absurd. As Yves came to know Vahl, it became clear that his character mirrored this insanity. He was a wizard who dared to transcend the natural boundaries of what should be logical, possible, and allowed.
Yves could think of no mentor more suitable than Vahl. Yves was a Lightshifter through and through, but in the Mirror Dimension, he had transformed in a way only a Worldbender could. It was highly likely that Vahl was the only Worldbender master who would not immediately dismiss Yves' request as pure audacity — the sheer impudence and impertinence of an expellent daring to draw such a comparison; the outrageous arrogance of a mere fledgling Lightshifter, who was still a century away from sprouting his first wizardly whisker, daring to ask a master or even a luminary for instruction, for insights into a spectrum that was not even his own. It was an offense akin to initiating a Duel of Honour that would most likely end with Yves dead in seconds.
And that was all before he could even let those esteemed Worldbender masters know that he, as the ridiculously beardless expellent Lightshifter he was, had moved waves. That he could not only change his form but also impact the Material Dimension like a Worldbender elementer.
“So it’s a YES for Vahl,” summarised Mushroombird.
“Well done,” said Twig.
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