Transformation magic is, for lack of a better term, shit. When I was younger, it was a required curriculum. That was before the Kalderes were exiled. All faculty and staff seemed to realize no one liked transformation magic, and performing it was even less exciting.
When the DeMeteor faction was assigned control over Kaldere Academy, transformation magic was one of the first magical practices to be removed. Since it hasn't been taught since I was a child, transformation magic has become a forgotten memory to most elves, who no longer know or can recognize this form of casting.
The idea of turning into a tethercat or some variant of a dragon sounds like a swell idea in theory, but in reality, feeling all of your bones break, expand, reshape and morph into a form that is absolutely foreign to your senses is not exactly what I'd call a fun Midsummer afternoon.
All that being said, since no one uses transformation magic anymore, it's become essential for covert operations, or so I hear.
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"Opal… I need your help."
Elise spoke to the old, but agile shopkeeper of trinkets and magical items.
"Visiting me two days in a row? I didn't know you missed me that much."
Elise gasped for breath in the early morning light.
"I always miss you. Currently, I am in dire need of something."
"Calm down, child. What do you need? Was that bestiary I gave you yesterday not enough? I haven't even changed the location of the doorknob yet."
Opal complained, leaning on her cane.
Elise mimicked a rounded bottle shape with her hands.
"I know, but I need a potion that refills magic."
Opal narrowed her eyes.
"Why would you need that? What is so important?"
"I need to see her tonight, before the Kosmairians sink their claws into her."
"Why? It's only been a day. I doubt they—"
"I know how Artero is. I absolutely need to see her tonight."
Opal stopped and paused, considering the woman's desperation for a moment.
"Do you think this will bring you joy?"
"More than anything."
"Well, if that is so." Opal stood up and walked to a cabinet. "You know how dangerous it is to use too magic in one day, right? Even magic that is not your own?"
"I do."
Elise summoned a conviction she's never had before.
"I DOooooOOOO, I DOooOOOO," Travis the petrovid, squawked.
"Here you go, it's a potion that will give you approximately three hours' worth of magic, but if you use it all, the consequences may be dire."
Opal let her concern be known. She warily eyed her favorite customer as she greedily took the potion.
"I won't use it unless I have to. I promise."
The old woman grumbled.
"You'd better."
"What do I owe you?"
"Nothing. If I kill my favorite customer, I won't do it for money." She cackled. "Just be careful, Elise. There's a reason people don't consume magic that is not their own."
"I know, but…" Elise paused. "I have to do this."
The old woman nodded in understanding. She had been young and in love once.
"Go get her."
Elise bowed and stormed out of the little shop, taking Kreatures of Keceo, A Brilliant Bestiary from her pack, and rapidly flipping the pages as she traveled back to the Gilded Towers.
Petrovid? No… it can't travel that far.
She went to the nearest ruby coffin. She thought of the closest town to the Kosmairian estate, Riverside, a small town often used as a neutral zone of communication between the Sylvians and Kosmairians back in the day.
Valleycrusher? No… it has the stamina for the journey, but it would take too long to get there.
She envisioned the simple people and their worn, humble cottages, not built by magic. Fishing traps littered the Divide—the inescapable smell of the river.
The tendrils grasped her, and she was within the town's center. People didn't teleport to places such as this. There was often no reason to. The people who lived in Riverside minded their own business and never traveled to the Capital.
Death Raven? She grumbled. It has thesame problem as the Valleycrusher, just in the air.
Elise calmly walked into the nearby forest. The smell of fish polluted the air. It appeared she was the only one awake.
She kept flipping the pages.
Gavo? She paused, read the description of the animal, and shook her head. Not even close.
Elise knew there were a hundred ways she could get to Gwyn. The somewhat major issue is that if Artero found out, there would be trouble.
She could use a coffin and teleport, yes—the obvious solution. However, the glaringly bright flash of the teleport would be a dead giveaway that something was amiss. She could use invisibility, but even a Whisperer probably couldn't maintain a spell for that long. She needed a way to get there first. After turning numerous pages, it was suddenly obvious.
"Lightfeather!" She muttered excitedly. She read from the passage. "Known for its incredible speed. Can travel further than any other creature on Keceo. Perfect!"
She closed the book and held it, sighing in relief.
If the winds are kind, I could be there by sundown.
Elise thought about all the creatures that could be lurking in the forest. The road wasn't safe at all times, especially at night.
She reassured herself.
"I can do this."
She flipped to the bestiary page containing the lightfeather. She read every bit of information on it. The pictures in this book were animated, which was unusual and rare in Keceo literature. The images perfectly depicted how the creature would behave in its natural habitat or captivity. All images were mostly stationary frames; the only moving photo of the avian creature was a blur of blue and white.
Elise gulped and thought of Opal's words.
Only a fool or a masochist would practice transformation magic.
"Guess I'm a masochist, then."
She sat for nearly half an hour, studying the bird religiously. She closed her eyes.
The soft, graceful feel of its blue and white feathers. The wind currents would glide upon to conserve energy. It's strong beak, and how it would tear at the flesh of the prey. The rapid movements of its head as it listened for potential prey, and how the feathers cresting its head would shake as it did so. How it must feel to dive and strike said prey at immense speed from hundreds of feet above.
Although this avian creature is called a lightfeather, it shouldn't be confused with the tiny petrovid. It is swift, yes, but also larger than most birds, with a wingspan of about four feet. Its monstrously strong talons are capable of shattering stone when struck at high speeds. A magnificent animal that's as rare as it is beautiful.
After much thought, she began her incantation.
"Turn skin to feathers,
whether that kills me
Or lets her get away,
I need to do this by today!"
Her arms expanded, feeling like they were being pulled in every direction. As they grew, it felt as though her flesh would tear from her bones, but it did not. Feathers stung like needles as they sprouted from her pale skin. Her skull, chest and legs shrank, like they were being forced into a small box. They perfectly morphed to the shape of the lightfeather bird. It was pure agony.
Silent agony.
The caveat with transformation magic is that, unless the user expresses their discomfort, it is an entirely silent process.
Her body continued to be pulled and morphed into different shapes, her clothes absorbing into her skin. She had never used transformation magic before, nor had she heard of anyone doing it themselves, but now she knows why they didn't.
This was the worst pain she has ever experienced. The moment her body was done being torn from itself or shoved into a tiny box, the pain ceased to exist.
She coughed up blood when the process was finished. She shook her small head and looked around. Her vision widened, and her body was air. She stepped in place, looking at her feet, or… talons. She had become a lightfeather, except that her feathers were pink and white instead of blue and white.
With one push of her wings, she was sent skyward, and with a second beat, she was far beyond the trees that surrounded her.
She oriented herself and pointed her body toward the East, where the Kosmairian estate resided. The estate from here was but a tiny dot towards the horizon. The Wall dwarfed everything in her vision.
Hours later, she was exhausted from flapping her wings. She glided cautiously.
She saw the estate, the flower fields, the training yard and... she saw Gwynevere with… Artero? Shirtless?! She had half a mind to strike him now with her talons and take his head clean off.
She began to lower herself, but a downdraft sent her spiraling.
Elise wasn't experienced enough as a bird to right herself, and she crashed into a tree, knocking herself unconscious.