Five minutes earlier…

Angela thought she knew pain.

She was quite wrong in that assertion when she felt silver scales start itching their way into existence underneath her clothes, and she could feel the churn of her insides during the last period of school. She looks waywardly for a path out of this disaster of a situation unfolding. She’s so sure that she hadn't missed any of the signs, otherwise she would have booked it out of here sooner!

Okay, quick check, still human looking outwardly? A quick check indicates that's a yes. A quick check of her phone shows her eyes as normal. Okay, I need to get out of this class. Immediately. Where's a private place that no one goes into that I could transform?

Llarivois, Angela, salalthi nas!

She translates Samarina’s draconic to roughly as get her backside in gear, and find an excuse to ditch class that no normal human being would question. There's only ten minutes anyway. She rises abruptly from her seat after sending a red alert to Julia and Nick and approaches her teacher's desk. “Angela, can I help you–”

“I need to go to the nurses’ office, urgently,” she whispers as she feels a sharp spike of pain up her spine.

“Angela, there's only ten minutes left of class for the day, surely you can–”

“Mrs. Carroway, I am having monthly issues. I am in pain,” she whispers with as much restraint as she can summon. That would have still been less painful than this. Carroway nods quickly with a bewildered expression.

“Okay, you can go. I'll email the assignment notes to you then, pages fifty through seventy.”

“Thank you,” she says as she gets through the door, already with a plan in motion. The east wing has some renovation work and is cordoned off with a padlock, and she's got no problem with that. Breaking Veil protocol would be far worse than a rap for breaking and entering. She darts down the empty hall and feels a shift of something at her back, just on either side of her spine.

Oh no. Bad wings, go away, this is absolute rubbish timing! She pulls open her bag, gets her lockpick, and gets to work at the padlock. Luckily none of those annoying cameras they'd put up in the school are close by, and she gets the padlock off in a matter of seconds.

Playing a rogue in their tabletop is one thing, but in a beat of sardonic wit, she'd also taken a liking to opening locks for the challenge. It also didn't hurt when her vainglorious mother engaged the deadbolt every time she and Dad left town, and forgot it needed a separate key.

She got pissed off climbing up to the second floor to fish for an open window at her own house and had almost fallen that one time. That had been the last straw. She strips the padlock off and resets it to be mostly closed when she gets into the machine shop–a place that conveniently is open. The ceiling is higher than the regular drop-tile ceiling and shows the metal trusses and some concrete slabs. She sends out a fast message to Julia.

[Transforming now. Stripping clothes.]

[Make sure to warn Drenar]

She presses 'send', even while her fingernails are turning into dark blue claws and those lustrous silver scales are spreading across her wrists. It’s actually quite a pretty sight, but the churning of her insides is just not agreeing with her and she almost doubles over from the pain. She quickly strips down to her underwear and bra–those are likely going to get shredded, but she doesn’t want to be utterly naked in front of everyone.

*crack* *crunch*

Yep, that’s the sound of my body shifting bones and growing teeth in my jaw that has no business being there right now OH OWWW! Even her internal thought gets disrupted by the shift of bone and the grinding sound of more teeth coming in, and her nose sort of…joins with her upper lip. It’s unsettling, and she really doesn’t want to watch this body horror anymore and forces her eyes shut.

Outside she can hear the shuffle of people departing for the day, all the while she’s meditating in the same way Laresten used to instruct them during fencing class. The first teacher she truly learned something special from. It’s still amazing he’d also found a dedicated student in Drenar. Those calm thoughts keep her focused even as she feels foreign limbs spread from her back in the form of massive wings, but she’s not focusing on visuals. She’s focusing on a memory. Her last lesson with Laresten.

She still remembers that day, in the cozy suite near downtown that Drenar’s foster mother Diane would take them to after school. It’s how she got…well, a lot closer to Drenar than she ever could have expected. After his mother’s death, he had been really…withdrawn. Distant. Maybe even worse than Julia when her father was killed in combat six months later. Fencing and other martial practice had…dulled the edge of that awful experience for him, and she kept him on his toes.

Eventually, he surpassed her. Hell, he might have even surpassed Laresten. That middle-aged man with hippy-like long gray hair, a hint of stubble, and soft brown eyes spoke of a man of utter calm and tranquility. Someone who had lived a long life and seen many wonderful things. He was a tough teacher, but he had always driven one point home:

Learn from your mistakes. Adapt. Grow. Never look back when it could hurt you, only look to the experiences that you could make better in the future. When she thinks of that last lesson, even with Drenar limping after a bad fall, he looked at both of them proudly and told them they would be his finest students, and that there was no limit they couldn't surpass.

It was more validation of her skills than she’d ever gotten from her mother. That thought of her cold, calculating mom who didn’t seem to think much of either of her kids, despite how many high marks they brought home or athletic endeavors they excelled at, never got one moment of recognition. She grits her sharpened teeth and feels nothing but utter contempt for her mother. She lets the errant thought off to the wayside, even when scales spread across her body and her claws come in a stretching, splitting sensation radiating up her legs and arms.

Laresten treated her like a daughter more than her mom and dad. On that last lesson, he’d given them permission to use proper swords–not blunted, not training, real steel, and challenged her and Drenar to what would be their last lesson.

They’d won. And Laresten had never looked any prouder than when she offered a hand to lift him to his feet, same as Drenar, when the lesson was over.

Two weeks later, he was gone. She sheds an errant tear–either from the pain of the transformation of her own body, or the memory of someone important in her life fading out in an instant through the bad luck lottery of a heart having finally run its course, even as healthy as he was.

It isn’t fair. Why is she alive, and he isn’t? She looks down at her scaly chest, the bra not now really covering much of anything resembling human, and she can still see it. The faint scars from when she’d had surgery at the tender age of five. Dad had mentioned it was worse than she'd ever believed. About a month ago, he told her she'd been clinically dead for over ten minutes before the surgery. They'd almost given up. Mom had been livid afterwards, as if it should have never been said at all.

She shouldn't be alive right now, feeling this radiating surge of pain and primal strength from creatures of legend.

She shouldn't have the most amazing friends on the planet, despite the brutal hand life had dealt them.

She should be buried right now next to her stillborn sister.

But she is alive. And that's what matters. Which means every moment from this point on now is a gift. A gift she isn't going to waste, nor a precious moment lost with her friends and her brother. She opens her eyes to look down again, seeing that reminder in the faint lines on her silvery scales. A reminder not of death, but of life.

Well, guess I better take these off now, before it's too late. She takes her undergarments off before they can become a finely shredded mess.

These claws are absurdly sharp, and she still cuts a small hole through the fabric, much to her annoyance. She focuses back on that lesson, ignoring the pain as her tail starts slithering from the lower portion of her back, and she can feel a vibrant course of energy almost shimmering around her. She hears a gentle tap at the door.

“Angie? Are you decent?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Come in, make sure no one sees you. All the cameras are pointed away from the door, I think,” she says and tries the same tricks Drenar had told her about to speak. It takes some practice, her jaw isn’t the same, and it hinges far wider than she’s used to. She dares a peek, and can see seafoam feathers tightly bundled on her forearms–a secondary foil. She looks back at her beautiful wings and gingerly stretches one–it’s still only partially formed, but those silver and seafoam-colored feathers really are quite something.

She hears the loose rattle of the padlock and Julia peeks her head in, all blue-eyed and filled with wonder when she sees Angela posed on the floor, using her focus to will away the pain. Her insides feel molten and her spine has sharp, shooting spikes of pain that wrack her from neck to tail tip. Drenar pops in a second later, then shies away. Julia pulls him in any way, and he’s slightly flushed. She is naked, after all. But her human anatomy is all but gone now.

Angela? Se Vous?

I’m here, Samarina. I’m alright. Julia is in awe, and Drenar is adorably trying to shy behind her–she sees right through that and playfully moves and brings him forward.

“We would have come sooner. Stuff happened,” Drenar says hastily, even while she can’t help but laugh. Even though the motion feels like liquid fire through the rest of her body and she grimaces. “You okay?”

That is the moment the pain starts as her body starts stretching to its true size, and she has a fleeting thought of the conservation of mass and just where in the universe is it possible for energy and matter to be convertible, and she finally shouts in pain. More teeth come into her snout, and more itching feathers sprout on her wings like little tiny icepicks of pain. She bowls over and is sprawled on the ground, propped up on her now increasingly massive claws.

“Does it look like I’m okay?!” she snarls. Her meditation is only effective up to a certain point, and she taps a claw angrily into the concrete floor. Aaaand it leaves a hole in the floor, great, she has armor-piercing claws that are going to make a handshake an effort of finesse now. Julia coos and gives her a pat on the shoulder.

“Angie, you’re doing great! Just remember, this is just like…well, I suppose the best analogy I have is that your body is giving birth! To a whole new, scaly, amazingly sleek and slightly sexy body for reasons I don’t even know why I’m talking about right now, because I’m in awe–”

“That was the weirdest and most unhelpful thing I have ever heard you utter, Tsundere!” Angela shouts while gritting her teeth. “Also, ‘sexy?’ I’m going to let that one pass, because I know you have some vibe for the fairer gender at times!”

“Uh…I am currently undecided on that one,” Julia says like she’s unsure, and beaming red in the face. That's a notable rarity.

“Julia, trust me. It’s normal. Everyone has feelings for things they think are weird or unusual at times,” Drenar assures her with a gentle pat on her shoulder. She pokes him and a slight sizzle sound emerges and there’s a wisp of smoke where she zapped him. He barely flinches from it this time. “Would you and Kelly stop trying to burn holes in my clothes?! I think you secretly enjoy zapping me, and it’s losing effect,” he says in annoyance. She grins at this.

“What can I say, I now have two itty-bitty dragons I can now safely experiment on and cause no harm!” she says with practically a squeal. Angela however is moaning as her transformation is likely just about done, and she feels like that molten fire feeling on her insides is cooling. Her senses feel wired in a sensation she doesn’t even have an analog for. Everything is in high definition now, sight, hearing, smell–she flicks her elongated tongue out and can…taste that lavender dryer sheet scent that Drenar always seems to have around him.

That’s a weird feeling, she thinks even as her scales begin to glow with silver light. “Guys, move. Drenar almost hit you with furniture last time Julia,” Angela warns her. She curls her claws deep and forms fists, she can do this. She’s almost there.

Suddenly she feels the pressure release off her body, and Drenar and Angela hide behind a bench. The sound is deafening and likely is about to draw attention if anyone is too close by. She collapses on the floor, out of breath, but there’s a residual charge of energy through her body that almost feels like a cool blanket on her skin–er, scales now? She cranes her neck to look at her body.

It takes her a long, good look to accept what’s happened, and she sits cross-clawed on the floor in a lotus pose after a minute, and takes a deep breath. Drenar is still looking in awe, and Julia is trying her hardest not to say something Tsundere. She fails to keep it in. “Yes! All my besties are the cutest, most adorable dragons I’ve ever met, and we will be friends forever and have amazing times, and soar through the clouds–”

“If you squeal any louder, we won’t need Crosomer to crack open the Veil, Julia,” Drenar shrills with a panicked face. “Okay, we need to bounce, it sounded like a sonic boom went off in here. Angela, can you transform? Are you good?”

Vey–ah, yus? It’s almost cute when Samarina tries out a few words of English that she’s been able to coach her through. Nick had been immediately useful on that front…what’s Nick going to think though, when he sees her? What does happen when a drake meets a dragoness–oh no. No feelings, go away, I don’t want to feel the feels! It's strange that even with the complete form change, it feels like a heated sensation on her cheeks. Confirmed, dragons can be embarrassed. Great.

“Hey, why are your cheek scales all rosy?” Julia asks with a sly smile. “You having some…thoughts?”

“Oh no, Julia, leave it be. This was painful,” Angela grunts and rises to her clawed legs after a moment of contemplation. She wobbles a bit on her new leg structure, and her horns–or what she thinks are her horns–scrape gently into the ceiling. “Love the dragon, hate the transformation. It hurts. I don’t know how the hell you didn’t scream in pain from that sooner, Drenar, you held out until the end.”

“Oh, it was bad, Angie. I wouldn’t want to go through that again.” She pats him on the shoulder gently and tries to not put another hole in his clothes and she smiles at him with sharpened teeth. “Alright, so, Nick was saying, you should be able to feel a charge or something, like an instinct on how to revert to your human form. Reach out to that thread and mentally just give a tug.”

It’s far easier in practice, and her body starts shrinking and getting…well…softer around the edges, instead of armor scales. She wobbles unsteadily as her leg structure reverts to plantigrade, and Drenar and Julia are red in the face and trying not to look her way. Julia’s expression isn’t shocked…more elated.

She remembers why in an instant, covers her arms across her chest and below, and lets out a shout of surprise. This is awful in the worst way.

She just gave a full frontal to both her best friends and totally forgot about her clothes now sitting on the far end of the room, thrown by the telekinetic burst at the end of her transformation.

“Wow, Angie. Exhibitionist mode? Never knew you had it in you,” Julia says, even as embarrassed as she is.

“Julia, let’s be clear,” Drenar states as he grabs Angela’s clothes and bag and tries not to look at her as he gently hands her them. “We don’t talk about stuff like this. Like, ever. We can keep this one between us.”

“Damn woman, you have curves!” Julia beams, and Angela glares at her. “Little bit jealous here, just a teeny tiny bit! But proud that you're a shining silver beauty, too!”

“Tsundere, go away. Before I fling you a distance you won’t survive the impact from, either,” she threatens even as Julia grins wildly.

“Hell yes, fling me, my draconic queen! I will die happy!” Angela glares daggers into her soul.

“Privacy, Julia! Have some respect!”

“But, dragons!”

Angela sighs. There is just no turning Julia off. The ‘off’ lever was broken and thrown in a lava pit ages ago. “Girl, I'm pretty sure I don't subscribe to the fairer gender in that way. At least I don't think so.”

“That's okay, that's what Drenar is for!” She nudges him with his elbow and he goes red in the face in the instant.

“If either of you says the word ‘harem’ I will go fight this damn Talons army myself,” he growls. It’s more telling when he turns away–not even to take a peek. "One lady at a time policy, thanks."

“That might be even hotter, Drenar. Checkmate,” Julia says with a smirk. He groans in frustration.

Well, at least Drenar is still predictable, post-Awakening.

Vey. Sexy.

Samarina, did you just…Fates on a stick, don't you start, too.

Oh, it's worse now. Samarina is laughing now, inside her head.