This night, I don’t dream. It’s an odd experience. When I wake up, there’s an electric energy pulsing thru me: The world feels sharp in a way it hasn’t for months. I get up, eat, transform, dress and braid, my movements deliberate and clean.

“You move too much. You’ll run out of energy before we arrive”, the mother of a little girl had said.

I assume the others are staring. It would be hard not to: the outcome of today will impact their lives as well. But if they are, I don’t register it. Today the world consists of two people.

It’s early noon before I see Aisha. She’s dressed in a waste of fabric and fineries, same as me. Humans have gathered around us, even backstage. She’s shaking hands and waving whilst smiling from ear to ear. I’m not. Dancing will do you no good. Niilan is glaring at me. His hand is clasping mine, rings digging into skin and hitting nerves.

One day, in a cave that could have been a thousand others, a little girl had begun to transform. “Make it stop”, she had begged as her body split itself apart. Her mother could not, so she wiped away the girls’ tears. The tears kept coming, so the mother kept wiping them away. “This is your bodies doing. Focus on that pain”, she had said, “It will keep you mind clear.”

Aisha and I are ushered up a podium. Niilan is forced let go of my hand. Beneath us, children are laughing and chasing each other. Masters dressed in their best, shifters buzzing around them, sit on prepared seats or watch from open windows. Further back, seats change to benches before giving way to the poor, standing in tightly packed crowds. Above the stage, doves hover a gilded sun. A gong rings out. The crowd goes silents. We kneel. A council member steps towards us: She has the kind of features, who age only enhances. Decked out in jewelry, golden fabric blowing in the wind, she must strike a cerebral image for her gathered people. From here, we see the origin of the carefully staged wind.

She preaches of victory, of sacrifice, of the greatness this city has gifted humanity. I don’t pretend to listen.

“Rise”, she commands. We obey. Cheers erupt. People are waving color coded handkerchiefs, red for Aisha, white for me. There are more white ones then I expected. Still, looking out into the crowed, it’s like falling into a sea of blood.

“All mine now”, Aisha whispers are we are dragged off.

-

All along the massive, silver coated doors that open into the arena, are scratch marks. I can see them even here, though most are on the outside.

The first time a little girl had seen these doors, she had been terrified of what they will reveal. Her little finger had clawed at them, tried to find enough grip to stop them from opening. Now they open just form me. Focus.

I run forward before I can register the blinding light, the noise, the smell of dust and sand. Adjusting my senses whilst running, I head for where I know the weapon stands will be. My eyes snap into focus the moment I arrive. Dagger. Left. My hand shoots out, fingers closing around the shaft. Pain shoots thru me as a kick pushed my kneecap far beyond what a joint can take. What? My body reacts before I know what’s happening. My leg shrinks. I start to fall. The momentum of Aisha’s kick, now lacking resistance, carries her forward and she begins to fall as well. I spin around, trying to strike her with the dagger. For a moment it looks like it’ll work, then her form flares into that of a bear. The blade connects with her side. It barely leaves a scratch. We’re still falling.

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She’ll pin you down.

Mid fall I turn my body, angle my arms. In a split second I turn into a Kestrel. One wing beat, that's all I have time for. But it’s enough. I shoot out from underneath Aisha. She crashes to the ground.

My mind is racing. How did she know where I’d be? The daggers! You always go for the daggers. My body is burning from the transformations pain. Focus.

Aisha looks beneath her feet in confusion. I start to fly away as fast as I can. From the corner of my eye, I can see her grinning. She jumps, transforms into an eagle midair and races after me. Higher and higher we go, looping around each other in sudden turns. Theres the beating of wings behind me. Turn. I dive to the side. Tallos whizz past me. Too close. I draw in my wings and dive down. She follows. We circle each other. I’m barely dodging her blows.

“Stop running”, Aisha screams, “you’re waiting precious time!”

I draw up again, the curve as tight as I can. The moment I do, Aisha does the same. But her wingspan is larger than mine so, for but a moment, I’m above her: I drop. The movement we collide I turn into a wolf, its sudden weight crushing her as I snap towards her neck. She’s faster. In an instance Aisha’s gone and I plummet.

I force wings to sprout form my shoulders. The transformation finishes, the momentary agony of my bones braking and realigning passes: But the pain stays. I look down and see blood. My blood. On Aisha’s teeth. It stains the fur around her mouth. It opens, wants to tear out another chunk out of me. No. I turn into a mosquito.

What happened? Why didn’t my body react? The Pain. The Pain masked it. Shit. My tiny from tries to fly away. You’re too slow! Aisha turns into a swallow. Her head snaps towards me. I transform into an eagle. At least I try to. She crashes into me mid transformation. Too fast. Both of us are thrown back. I force the transformation complete, spread my wings and manage to halt just before crashing into the sliver bars. Aisha has done the same.

My chest is burning. The wind my wings stirs up, hit exposed flesh. Each time I breath I must force the air down. Aisha barely has a scratch on her.

Mom.

She flies towards me. I curve below and head towards the middle. To the weapons. I don’t know where she is: It’s too dangerous to turn and look. My muscles ache. With each of their moment, try to stretch bit farther, draw them back a bit faster. You’re almost there.

There’s a wind current. I don’t have time to react before she crashes into me full force and I’m flung against the nearest wall. In the split-second before the impact, I transform into a bear. Still, my body explodes with pain. As I slide to the floor, a bloody trail mark where my chest collided with stone. I roll to the side. And not a second to soon: Aisha lands where I had crashed. Sand is thrown into the air and lodges into my wounds. Then she’s upon me: Snarling, biting.

With my movements still sluggish form the impact, all I can do is shield my vitals. Mom. Help me. Aisha’s claws tear thru my skin.

If you dig a small hole after a heavy rain, you can watch the water seep into it. It’s as if the earth itself is bleeding. A little girl had dug a lot of holes those days, so that both could bare those marks. Crimson seeps into the claw marks, leek from the bite wounds. Mommy stop. It hurts.

I try to crawl away, but she won’t let me. She never let me go. Theres’s blood trickling down my face. I’m sorry. I curl up. I’ll be quiet. I promise.