The only excuse I had was that I still felt groggy. That being said, the impact did help to wake me up. It also calmed my initial indignation at being caged up like an animal, as I had just acted like one.

This was going to be a problem, but I suppose it's as nice a place as any to work on my glaring inadequacies. First, being an oversized gecko was likely the biggest reason why I was caged up. It's obvious that they would put the lizard in a box, that's just what you do with one when you take care of it. If I wanted them to even know I wanted out, I needed to become something different.

Before I change forms, however, I want to figure out how I should try and solve my inability to vocalize first. This proved quite tricky as while the lungs were easy, a simple void I opened up inside, I had been a machinist. Having entirely neglected any anatomical pursuits, I hadn't learned what vocal chords looked like, nor the principles on which they functioned. I did however know how to make a whistle, so that's what I was now planning on using.

Say hello to the world's first whooping gecko. Unless that's a thing here already. I don't think it was on earth. I tried to start making noise, but I couldn't tell at what speed the whistle was making an audible sound, only the approximate resonance I could feel in my throat.

After my third work whistle, I saw a kid turn the corner. He had been running with his hands to the side of his head but now that I had stopped, he dropped them and approached me slowly. He was looking at me like I had just fallen from the sky in front of him.

He was inspecting something below desk level, so I tried getting his attention with another whistle. Starting as low as I had felt a resonance start, he looked back to me. His face still seemed befuddled, so I just waited for him to get himself together.

I had been debating if I should just go for trying to become human outright, but I don't think I could pull it off in a way that wouldn't be so uncanny valley that they'd be disgusted by me. I also don't want them to think I'm manipulating them, as even if I used all my mass, I don't think I could manage anything bigger than a malnourished eight year old.

That leaves me to pick an animal, and I think the choice is obvious. The kind that has a million different ways of telling you it wants out. The ears were the hardest part, as if I wanted to try and make them functional, I had to focus and actively interpret the raw vibrations, like a microphone. I was not very confident in this method succeeding, but that was most certainly a gasp.

~~~

Tommen was the second apprentice mage of Cole, Cole’s first already being old enough to go out on her own and start her journeymanship. At times like these there was little to do, as Tommen did not follow Master Cole into official meetings with the Baron. He liked it this way though, as he always found himself feeling uncomfortable around nobility, even if the Baron was more laid back. He had always had a hard time reading people, and the noble customs would always make his head spin.

There was silence in the lab, for Tommen had already finished transcribing the last chapter he would be needing this week. He could have gotten started on the next chapter, but the grimoire had been increasing in difficulty as he moved from the simple apprentice level spells into the intermediate. Most of Tommen's spare time was spent on practicing innocuous spells that possessed no consequences for failure. The grimoire served as a list of spells that would steadily challenge him. Master Cole had transcribed it from his master, and now it was Tommen's turn.

The book was written with the intention of the student only moving onto the next spell once they succeeded the previous spell five times in a row, and upon their first successful cast of a new spell, they should always go back and reinforce the previous spell. Tommen wasn't perfect, sometimes he'd start a new spell early, or get distracted trying to rework an existing spell.

His new favorite spell to tinker with was an illusion derivative his master had made. It was called ‘Summon Sketch’ and let him generate an illusion of anything he could draw, only much faster. The spell even let him weave more than one line at a time, and he had been experimenting with getting it to automatically mirror his drawing over chosen line of symmetry, the ones career artists used only ever reflected over the centerline. He had a problem he was struggling with. Anything he drew on the right side reflected properly to the left, but anything he drew on the left wasn't reflected to the right. A little more troubleshooting let him discover that it was drawing the lines, just on the same side, tracing everything he drew without translating it.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

He was about to start digging for the mistake in his modifications when he was distracted by a sound like a teapot going from just barely whistling to screaming in less than five seconds. He jumped to his feet, if one of the alchemical suspensions was decaying, he needed to turn up the heat and send for his master. But then the sound stopped, only to start again from the same quiet whistle.

Tommen then set off in search of the source, running with his fingers in his ears. When he finally found it, he read the label and warning on the Ignararium as “Soulsteel, physical contact - mana drain” along with the creature's reference number. It was in the four thousands, and he didn't know where the encyclopedias containing anything higher than the two thousands were kept.

Master Cole would return soon, and if all the big salamander wanted was attention, Tommen would just draw it. Or that was his plan, anyways. As he was halfway through the upper torso, it started changing. Watching as it carefully shifted its body into new proportions, even down to the most subtle detail Tommen could make out, the young apprentice was briefly terrified. However, being a young apprentice, his fear was immediately overtaken by curiosity, and his love for dogs. Questions raced through his mind. How did this thing know his favorite animal? It hadn't turned into his favorite breed, so was it just guessing? It was one that most people first think of when picturing a dog, after all.

He watched as the Labrador stared at him. Its eyes were still featureless, but the dog's ears seemed to be at attention.

“Uh, hello there.”

Its only reply was tilting its head. Stepping up to the enclosure, Tommen studied the thing’s form closely. It had been the color of pearls while it was a salamander. However, now that it was in the form of a dog, its coat was a silvery mirror finish. There weren't any vestiges left over from its previous form, so it must have been a complete polymorph.

He had no idea who Master Cole had worked with to get his hands on this thing, but he knew it must be dangerous. A polymorph can manipulate its body however it wants, his master had told him a story of a shapeshifter that could use its fingers like daggers by sharpening them, or use its unnatural constitution to crush you with more force than any mortal could manage.

That was why, when the silver Labrador had started nosing the roof of his ignararium off, Tommen jumped up and kept it down. After doing so, the canine seemed to sulk at him, laying down and turning away.

“I can’t let you out, Master Cole isn’t here.”

Tommen waited to see if he would get a response. However the Soulsteel didn't even tilt its head, let alone answer his question. Master Cole had put it in an ignararium, so while he could light a fire under it, he wasn't sure he should. Doing so usually helped to calm occupants down, but his master might have picked this one because it's the largest enclosure they had, not for the attached furnace. It was already acting unhappy, and if the Soulsteel reacted poorly to the fire, it might try and force the roof off next time. And with how malleable it seemed, it could also just leave through the damper when he opened it to start the fire.

He decided to try one last thing, to see if it would understand pictures. He drew a stick figure lifting the lid off a terrarium. The dog didn't take notice of the paper until he pressed it up against the glass.

~~~

I couldn't get him to try any commands, and he didn't react well when I tried to pop the lid off. When he started talking, I stopped pouting and turned my head back to him.

I'm not sure if it was just a limitation of my ears, or if he really was speaking a different language. It flowed like a sentence, but the meaning, or even the actual nuance between the different words, was lost to me.

It sounded like a mix of the parents from The Peanuts and whatever language the Sims speak.

Listening to him speak, I managed to tune my focus to the approximate range he talked at. This helped, but the only thing I could think to do with this information was to, quite literally, parrot it back. I had found no meaning at all, despite it being vaguely similar to English. It all sounded natural, but like I'm hearing a completely foreign language I'd never heard before.

This was unlike when listening to, say, someone speak German, where you could at least pick out one word in ten and find a common root. But in the thirty or so he had just spoken, not one had rang any bells. I was just about to start changing my whistle voice box for a speaker when I heard something bang against the glass. It was really dark, he was near one of the ends of the enclosure, with the miniature sun casting about the light a candle might.

I reached up and grabbed it by the chain. A gentle tug broke it free, and I brought it back over to the kid, who now looked just a little mortified. He was holding up a sketch of me being let out. That was what I wanted, so I started wagging my tail. It was surprisingly difficult because my body has no muscle memory, It hadn't even started with any form of passive perception. Except touch. Every other sense took effort to maintain at more than occasional flashes, and even repetitive actions like tail wagging took a lot of focus.

The second picture was more disappointing, but I still nodded to whatever the kid was saying. I couldn't decipher the actual words, but the pictures really helped. He was trying to tell me he didn't have permission to let me out. He must have been a student or something for that wizard from yesterday. I assume it was yesterday, as I lost track of time when I passed out.

So, if we were going to wait anyways, I could start building some trust with the kid, even from behind glass. Now, while keeping in mind the normal limits and range of movement physically possible by a dog, I lifted my front paw and pressed it on the window.

He seemed to think I was trying to break out at first, but when I just held it there he came closer and placed his hand mirroring my paw. Then when I swapped paws, he swapped hands too.

I had hoped that this would be enough of a primer to get him thinking of other tricks, but I almost gave up before he spun his finger around in the air. I promptly chased my tail, and he had me keep going. My ballerina impression must have been pretty good, as I now know what laughter sounds like here. It's basically the same.