“And? Of course shapeshifters are gonna read my book; they’re who I wrote it for! I’m trying to figure out why it’s a bad thing to make things easier for them. They’re a great way to preserve knowledge and customs and all that good shit- hell, my favorite bakery’s been run by changelings ever since the original owner had a heart attack last year. Calling people monsters is a self-fulfilling prophecy; and besides, if you really object you can always come and purge the district of them. Just remember that they are my people, and you know what happens to those who try to hurt my people.” - Excerpt from The History of Shapeshifters in Solwick.
Monday, First day of class, early evening. Vreem POV
Everything about this feels wrong. I can feel my thoughts moving around in my brain, slowly and inefficiently. Dozens of simultaneous distractions and trivialities scream through my head, like rats fighting over a corpse; I feel blind without my soul to watch my back. I feel so impossibly slow, I feel so… fake. But what option do I have except enduring it? I cannot blend in, I cannot understand the nuances of emotion and I cannot swallow my pride enough to feign the weakness needed to fade into the background. The only option I have is to just stop being myself for a while. It’s not like I haven’t changed before; changing is what I am.
The book that Ashtrunk gave me will serve as a guide for now. But I do not trust mere paper to contain everything I need; I have better resources available to me, two of them in fact. Mark finally notices me, and alerts Kira to my approach. Kira seems shocked, while Mark’s eyes lock on to me, observing me intently. Before I get too close, I make sure to scatter my thoughts enough to hopefully stop Kira from seeing anything important; I remember Kira mentioning something about wards or enchantments that can protect a mind against observation, I’ll need to get something like that as soon as possible. Regardless, I’m now right in front of them and a greeting is in order.
“Hello Kira, hello Mark. What are your opinions about the weather we’ve had in the last few days?”
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Strangely enough Mark remains silent, leaving Kira to gather her wits and respond.
“The weather has been fine enough… Are you alright, Vreem? You seem a bit more… cheerful than usual. Did something happen that we should know about?”
“Other than a wellness check, nothing that you need to know about. I did however have two requests. Firstly I would like to request a ward against telepathy, and secondly I would like to arrange for a meeting of just us three… outside Academy grounds. It doesn’t have to be today, but I would like for it to be as soon as possible.”
Now, it’s Mark who steps forward and speaks.
“Understood. How about we meet up at 13 Gretgar avenue? It’s in the neutral ground between Arick’s territory and the Lockdown, so it’s not the safest neighborhood, but if you want privacy- as I suspect you do- then there are few places more suitable. Now how about you head back to the dorm and wash up while me and Kira see about finding you a warding pendant?”
“That sounds good to me. How about we meet up tomorrow afternoon, during the period for electives? I know that missing the first class may be problematic, but this is important.”
“Works for me. Kira, let’s get going- we have a ward to buy.”
With that, Mark takes Kira by the arm and walks away. I stand still, watching them go. And once they’re far enough away that a normal human would have no chance of making out what they say, I see Kira lean over and whisper into Mark’s ear.
“That’s not Vreem. Their thoughts were a frantic chorus of babbling nonsense; Vreem’s thoughts barely contain emotions, let alone words.”
“Then that all but guarantees that we’ll be walking into an ambush. Can we count on your family for reinforcements?”
“Yes. The Arken family will take any chance to destroy a monster, no matter what shape it takes.”
That’s all I hear before they’re too far for even me to hear them, but I’ve heard all I need to. As I walk through desolate stone corridors, I set my thoughts to the task at hand: escaping from Deepvein, and by extension Hoplix.