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Curses, Foiled Again (Whim)

Started by Willard, January 25, 2016, 05:30:42 PM

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Willard

His mind was caught in distant memories. Familiar faces came to him, with narrowed, distrustful eyes, hateful glares and bared teeth. He saw unicorns, humans, beasts and spirits, fey creatures and mundane mortals. He ran, but the ground was an icy slope, and no matter how he struggled, he slid backward toward the abyss. His screams made no sound, and as he scraped and scrabbled at the edge of the precipice, he heard cruel laughter, and felt a rough shove that pushed him over the edge...

Something tickled the end of his nose. It was prickly, and prodded him lightly as it began crawling over his lips. Aréharis took a shallow breath, and snorted.

Phbbbth.

The prickly thing shot up the bridge of his nose and lodged itself somewhere between his ears. He flicked them, dimly aware of birdsong greeting the dawn. The ticklish sensation quickly relocated to his cheek. Aréharis regretfully opened one eye, and stared down into the glassy black eyes of the giant tarantula perched on his face.

"Whick off."

The tarantula stared as only a spider can, then scurried off down his neck and burrowing into the messy strands of his mane. The unicorn blinked his other eye open, and shook off the stiffness of sleep, one leg at a time. His swept his tail from side to side, brushing down his barrel with his thick tuft of tail hair.

A wreath of mist lay over the silver surface of the lake. The unicorn had fallen asleep on a hillock overlooking the water. He could see all the way down the sloping embankment to the muddy shore where bulrushes grew, hiding crickets and frogs and other river-dwellers. The morning air was still, hardly a ripple on the lake's smooth sheen, and the leaves of the overhanging willows hung at rest.

Sniff. Sniffsniff.

"Hmm."

Aréharis wrinkled his nose. Amongst all the usual morning scents he was accustomed to was something he didn't recognise. He smelt dew in the grass, dead insects, the ripe scent of a male deer with an injured hoof that had come grazing through the area yesterday, the sharp tang of a predator (something feline, he was sure) following aforementioned deer... but what was that other scent? Goat? Sheep? There was something else too, a scent that stirred fragments of memory, of southern shores and orchards of ripe...

The unicorn started in alarm. He bounded from his hillock and down the embankment with the wind at his back. Something whizzed by his striped legs, and he gritted his teeth, scarpering from bush to boulder to tree as he tried to break away from his pursuer. Olive trees. That's where he'd smelt it before.

"What kind of hunter washes with soap at dawn?" Aréharis complained to himself as he slowed his pace to dart through the thick undergrowth. He could feel the tarantula in his mane curling her legs nervously, clinging with determination onto a clump of his hair.

"She's gaining on you," a voice called to the fleeing unicorn. "Reckon she'll have a shot at your arse in a moment. Dunno how she missed the first time, the target's big enough."

"She? That explains the soap," Aréharis panted, coming to a halt and squinting skywards through the foliage. The owner of the voice came into sight, a large crow which flapped down through the trees and alighted on a branch with a ruffle of its glossy black feathers. Aréharis eyed the bird hopefully. "Go peck her eyes out, then. I'll leave you the meat if I take her down."

"Get stuffed," the crow replied cheerfully, and cackled. He twisted his head to regard the way the unicorn had come. "She's almost here! Use sorcery, freak-horse!"

"I don't have-..."

"Five seconds!" the bird cawed loudly. "Four!"

"I'm not a-...!"

"Three! Two!"

Aréharis narrowed his eyes and reached for his arcane power, lowering his horn towards the ominous footfalls that were growing louder. He felt every blade of grass as it moved, every lofty branch and twisting root of the trees... and he had an idea.

"One!"

Just as the hunter, clad in mottled green cloak and an arrow nocked on her finely crafted bow, came bursting through the bushes, Aréharis channeled his energy into the thick roots of a nearby tree, and bade them to grow. The gnarled woody shoots twisted and coiled up from the soil, wrapping around the hunter's ankles and tripping her face-flat onto a boulder. There were a couple of nasty cracks and a heavy thud as she toppled over, and the forest was still once more.

"Hah! You'll have to get up earlier next time, if you want.... if you want to..." Aréharis trailed off and peered curiously at the motionless hunter. Elf, he thought, or half-elf half-human. Also, she wasn't moving. The rock was beginning to stain dark with blood as it trickled from her broken nose, and her neck was at an angle nature had never intended it to be. Aréharis scowled, and looked up at the crow. "How tragic."

"Fresh meat, just like you said," the crow said, and fluttered down to start pecking at her exposed neck. Aréharis watched, wondering what that uncomfortable feeling in his stomach was. He told himself it didn't matter. One less enemy out for his blood. He leaned over the body to tug at the roll of parchment sticking out from the hunter's quiver. The crow paused his meal to stare at him beadily. "What're you looking at, big-arse? Freak-horse! No meat for you."

The unicorn had long since stopped rolling his eyes at the ingratitude of others. Wordlessly, he picked up the scroll in his mouth, turned to flick his tail rudely, and stalked off to find a grazing field uncontaminated by talking animals or murderers. Only when he found himself alone, in a quiet, dark copse of trees atop a hill, did he drop the scroll, and roll it out with a cloven hoof.

"This looks bad," Aréharis muttered to himself, as the tarantula scuttled from her hiding place and settled atop his head. They both regarded the wanted poster. "They still can't spell my name."

The tarantula said nothing.

~WANTED~

DEAD OR ALIVE

THE LONG-TAILED UNICORN NAMED ARREHARIS

FOR THE CRIMES OF NECROMANCY, BLOOD MAGIC AND DEMONCRAFT

REWARD PAYABLE FROM THE HONOURABLE JOURNEYMAN BOUNTY ASSOCIATION

1000 GOLD SUNS

Whim

He made the journey on foot, or hoof, rather. His horse was sold to a farmer once his feet changed to hooves. The young man didn't fancy spending time around equines on account of his curse; they were an unhappy reminder of it. That being said, no one in La'marri stared or paid his hooves and tail any mind; they were used to such magical oddities out here. The act of balancing so naturally on hooves he'd had only a few days was worrisome. Whatever sorcery coaxed his transformation along was potent.

All the more reason to hurry, Kai thought as he followed his compass. The boy was no woodsman; but with a full pack, a good sword, and a compass pointing toward his quarry there was little worry about. Unless a real hunter got to his unicorn first.

He passed through flowery meadows an old growth forests tall as castles. Serendipity must have been like this, once, before it was tamed by bronze and magic. It was mid-morning now, the last vestiges of dew beginning to evaporate, and Kai stopped at a stream beneath a lone hill to fill his waterskin. That's when his compass began to gryate and his heart skipped a beat. The unicorn was near.

Finding a unicorn, of course, was only half the battle. Pleasing it was the other half. Those he summoned in Serendipity refused his pleas for fear of angering a god. This one, judging by the poster, surely the sort who'd offend the gods in exchange for a good offering and some eldritch trinkets. Kai reached into his coat and sheepishly withdrew a neatly stitched effigy with a maiden's lock of hair (a hated cousin's; he wondered only later if she was really a maiden). The moment he did it felt silly in his hand. What would a unicorn even want with this?

Kai slowly trudged up the hill, toward the great dead tree at its apex. "Hello? I know you're here, unicorn. I've a proposition, you see. I don't mean any harm-" and then the donkey-boy slipped, falling flat into the grass. Hooved feet weren't ideal for climbing.
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

"Fix 'im. Woss wrong? Bad nut? Brain worms? Fix 'im, 'fix 'im!"

Communication was never an indicator of intelligence. Whilst Aréharis could hear the squirrel chattering as a meaningless barrage of panicked noise, the 'translation' for lack of a better word was the result of the unicorn's magic affinity for nature. Understanding the speech of animals wasn't the real gift, Aréharis thought, it would be turning the damn thing off.

As he examined the patient, who was mercifully quieter than the chattery squirrel, the unicorn chewed his mouthful of leaves with deliberate, agonising slowness. Not to be vindictive of course, he wanted to get this squirrel and its... spouse? Offspring? Whatever-relation-it-was out of his life with as much haste as possible. Unfortunately, the headache-reducing effects of the leaves were best released with slow, thorough chewing. Ironic, Aréharis mused, he needed the leaves to deal with the squirrel, which was causing the headache for which he needed the leaves...

"Tzchk! Hurry hurry! Fix 'im! Man coming! Treekiller! Woodburner! Tchk-tk-tk!"

Aréharis spat out his leaves, fortunately missing the patient. Another hunter? What, was that crow from earlier giving everyone directions now? He'd have to pay off a falcon or a cat to take that blabber-beak down. The unicorn leaned down until his scruffy black beard was touching the slab of stone where the patient lay motionless. He eyed the wife/mother (was it even a female?) and spoke slow and deliberate. He didn't want to have to repeat himself.

"The patient is dead. His scent and bruising indicates he ceased living two days ago. The cause of death is blunt trauma to the head. It's astounding you failed to notice, indicating you also may also have suffered head trauma. Contrary to the opinions of the arcane medicine community, necromancy is not 'demonic' magic as such, it falls under the study of healing. I just won't do it, because it's impractical and results in exponentially diminishing returns for the energy put into it. Bury the corpse, or be a good neighbour and donate it to a carrion-eater in need."

Aréharis rarely wasted breath on either greetings or farewells, so stopped paying attention to the delirious little speck of a squirrel and rose to his full height, starting off at an elegant prance, before breaking into a canter. Despite trying to fill up his morning by actually doing some good for the forest, like encouraging a few poisonous toadstools with his growing magic, he could not shake the Hunter Incident from his mind. He had gathered from those that cared about money that a thousand gold suns was a lot, enough to tempt even amateur bounty hunters with sharp farming equipment and delusions of heroism. Barely a threat to him, but bands of gold-crazed lunatics roaming the woods and scaring the horses would do no good. No, this bounty hunting business needed to be nipped in the bud. For that, he'd have to find a live bounty hunter.

"..lo?... here, unicorn... proposition you see... mean any harm..." Human, judging by the timbre and pitch, or something very like human. His cantering gait pounded in his ears, making the words difficult to discern. The breeze was flowing downhill, so Aréharis wasn't aware just how close he had come to the human until he was almost on top of him. The unicorn stamped to a halt just as he came into sight of a ragged form crumpled face-first on the grass. He snorted in disbelief.

"Today gives new meaning to the phrase 'clumsy assassination attempt.' At least the first hunter was actually armed." The unicorn trotted carefully around the fallen... satyr? His scent was a bit of a mess, along with everything else. Aréharis could have left right then, but he was curious if the satyr had actually died of a broken neck too. If two bounty hunters cracked their necks on the same day hunting the same unicorn, perhaps his curse was actually gaining new and bizarre conditions. He leaned over the fallen satyr, and was surprised to find he was still breathing, and better yet, he was conscious. So much for the curse theory. The unicorn flared his nostrils, sniffing at the stranger.

The satyr was not only unarmed, he looked completely helpless. Clean too, at least by satyr standards. Aréharis was mostly sure the satyr was old enough to be considered an adult, but he was keeping an ear out just in case the youth's mother came bustling out of the hedges with a rolling pin.

"You're fine. Better than the last one. Though, if you're collapsing frequently, it could be a symptom of brain damage. As could your stupendously foolish decision to try and claim my bounty. Listen to the advice of someone with a functioning mind, boy. Go back to your village and enjoy your youth while it lasts. Oh, and do me a favour. Tell whoever keeps making those wanted posters that they're burning precious hours of their mortal lives better spent on doing literally anything else." Satisfied with his brief examination of the satyr, the unicorn now put all thoughts of him into the 'Not-My-Problem-Anymore' category, and turned his attention to something more worth his time.

There was a pretty brass compass lying on the grass besides the satyr (Not-My-Problem-Anymore!), and the needle was jittering fiercely in his direction. Aréharis flicked his ears forward, listening to it intently, lowering his horn until the tip was touching  it. He could feel the tarantula in his mane retreating down his back. She could feel it too, no doubt from hanging around Aréharis so much. Magic.

"Hmph. Rudimentary tracking charm. Must've keyed it to unicorn horn." He prodded it a bit more, sensing the arcane properties imbued in the device. "No... you're kidding me. They used unicorn tailhair. How cheap."

Whim

Kai yelped in surprise as an enormous shape loomed over him, and rolled to the side, struggling to his feet. The youth was poised to draw his sword, but stopped. Areharis was just puttering around after all. More sardonic than the indignant and judgmental creature that was expected. Besides what could he possibly do to a sorcery-wielding unicorn with his little sabre?

"You'd prefer a horn be used for the charm? Pinch of shed fur seemed the nicer alternative, you know. And it was hardly cheap."

Like an child remembering his manners he straightened his posture, dusted stray the straw from his coat. The youth's tail flicking involuntarily, which made him blush. "You're Aréharis, I suppose? I'm Kai Wilding.. of Serendipity. And I wasn't lying to you; I've no desire your head! In fact I'm sure the magic you're capable of, alive and willing, is much more valuable than gold."

There was a pregnant pause in the air. Kai chewed his lip, searching for a nice way to word his request. "I need a curse broken, you see. And given you're, uh, reputation you don't seem the sort of unicorn who deals exclusively with virtuous maidens and or godly knights."
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

Aréharis tapped the compass again with his horn, and the needle stopped jittering. A nice toy, but of little use to him. He wasn't seeking the company of unicorns, and even if he was, he had far more time and patience than most. Besides, where would he keep the compass? He couldn't leave it lying around here, he'd bet his thousand sun bounty on some witless animal coming along and trying to swallow it.

Oh, that's right. It already had an owner.

The unicorn had been pretending as best he could that he wasn't listening to the satyr, but as with the squirrel from earlier, he just couldn't walk away without at least hearing the whole story. It was his awful habit of trying to do good, a risky occupation that he was sure would get him killed one day. His ear had flicked to point at the youth all by itself when he heard the word 'curse', and that gave away the game.

"Take your compass," Aréharis commanded, turning as if to leave. He took a few steps, just to show the youth that he wasn't that curious about the curse, and that he could simply walk off at any time. It was one thing being taken for granted, but he didn't want anyone thinking he was tame or anything. He slowed to a stop, and turned his head to regard the satyr with one eye. He heaved a theatrically exasperated sigh, just to hammer home the point that he definitely did not care or empathise with the boy's affliction in any way.

"You do know what a curse is, don't you?" The unicorn's tone was bitter. "Don't waste my time on some prankster jinxing you to be clumsy. Breaking a curse is an art beyond those who only have one mortal life to study it. At least you were sensible enough to come to me."

Aréharis paused, and for a moment he seriously considered just turning tail. Even if the boy's curse was genuinely that, it didn't mean he could break it. Even if he could, it would not prove that Aréharis could be severed from his own terrible doom. Curses were as different to each other as magic spells were.

But what other leads did he have? It wasn't as if the forest was stuffed to the treetops with cursed wretches seeking deliverance. He could try, and if it only meant failure, than at least that was a fate Aréharis could see coming.

"I know not what my reputation is in Serendipity, but I don't make deals in gold. My abilities are too valuable to be bought. I suppose that makes them worthless in monetary terms, why put a price on something nobody could ever buy? What a stupid system." Aréharis paused, deciding he would not fully explain why he was taking an interest. Few knew of the curse upon him, and he preferred to keep it that way. So, the unicorn laid out his terms.

"If you are truly cursed, my price is that you are bound to me until I break it, or admit defeat. In other words, I call and you come running, preferably with minimal chatter. I subject you to experimental magic, you tell me the effects, without complaining. I have a particular interest in curse-breaking, and that is enough for you to know. I don't expect thanks or favours, so I'll make this a binding condition; once I am finished with you, leave me, and speak of me to no one. Oh, and if it turns out to be just some boring charm, I'll show you a real curse for free, and turn you into a maiden, virtuous or otherwise. Deal?"

Aréharis was already advancing on the boy, lowering his head to a position that would look submissive on any other creature, if not for the foot long spiraled horn, deliberately sharpened at the tip, that was now pointed directly between the boy's eyes. Aréharis didn't want to give the youth too much time to think over the terms of his deal, and starting right away would get his hopes up that this would be all over in a few seconds anyway.

The unicorn's poise was stiff, and his movements slow and calculated as he inched forward. This complex spell required him (a fully-grown unicorn heavy enough to crush the satyr) to delicately make physical contact using a twelve inch spear on his forehead. Fortunately, whatever Aréharis' infamous reputation, he was very experienced at doing just that.

"You can talk, but hold your head still," Aréharis said calmly, too busy concentrating to be acidic. "The last virtuous maiden lost it when she started fidgeting. Do you have any other ailments, while I'm working? Joint pains, weight changes... any hoof rot? Very common in satyrs your age."

Whim

Kai picked up the compass, idly tossing it in the air and catching it. The youth chewed his lip, carefully weighing Areharis' words. "What do you mean bound? An actual enchantment? How do I know you won't be binding me to steal my soul or cut out my heart?" Or brush your mane for all eternity? "...with all due respect."

There came no answer as the beast drew nearer, jumping into questions and diagnoses; perhaps the issue was moot? He hoped it was. Kai tried not to move as the spiral horn came alarmingly close to his body, though he couldn't help but fidget. It looked perfect for goring and impaling.

A bemused smile finally crossed the boy's face as Areharis spewed forth a slew of questions, "I'm not a satyr. That's the trouble. I had lovely human ears and toes before a tiff with a local spirit; less itchy chest hair, too. If its just a charm no mortal mage my family's hired has been able to reverse it." It was a bit disconcerting to find the unicorn so academic. Sylvan creatures practiced convoluted folk rememdies, didn't they? Kai suddenly felt very small, figuratively this time, despite his wealth of arcane education. He could really only guess at what this affliction was.
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

It seemed despite his skepticism, the boy had been correct about it being a curse. Not a prank or a magical mishap, this magic was quite deep, and disturbingly familiar to the unicorn. He gently withdrew his horn an inch, blinking and squinting as if he'd just received a headache. Identifying the magic elements that comprised the curse came with a sensation that was not quite lightheadedness, nor actual pain. Taking a moment to recover his concentration, Aréharis licked his lips and and stamped his hind hoof, which had been falling asleep. His mouth felt very dry.

"I'm not a lunatic living in a jar offering you three backfiring wishes," he clarified, if only to fill the time until his next attempt. "I just have this insane belief that people should honour their word. I'm guessing you have upbringing, boy. No, I think you've enough magical problems without me adding new ones. If you run off and start telling your human buddies where to capture the big bad unicorn, I'll just come and kill you. No whicking around with bogus magical contracts."

Aréharis mulled over his findings so far. There weren't that many conditions on the curse. In fact, the caster had been liberal to the point of carelessness with their phrasing. The boy's explanation filled in the gaps. Human uses arbitrary power to make the land he owns somehow profitable, old cantankerous faun bumpkin goes handing out a curse to make some facetious point about the boy's lowly ancestry. The unicorn snorted.

"What a persnickety old goat, wasting aeons of his time watching a graveyard, the one place where nobody needs his help." Aréharis shook his head. "Then he has the gall to get upset when humans come along trying to waste time in an equally absurd manner."

Time wasting. Bickering over old trinkets, and places that would decay and shift until they were no longer recognisable. It was hard for a unicorn to understand such behaviour. Aréharis was admittedly still a very young unicorn, who had yet to experience even a modest fraction of the lifespans of his forebears. What use were stone temples to a unicorn like his father, who had seen mountains crumble and trickling streams carve valleys?

"The conditions of the curse are simpler than... than other curses I've seen," Aréharis said evasively. He was far more interested with how this faun-curse might yield some interesting facts about his own. Unfortunately, there were no half-measures to be taken in curse-breaking. It was all or nothing. "I can make an attempt to break it. Curses cannot be negated, in other words I cannot put a spell on you that contradicts the original terms. Imagine trying to paint over rotten wood - it's still rotten underneath. Instead, it's like I'm going to unravel the core elements of what's making the wood rotten and... actually, forget the whole metaphor."

Aréharis paused, raising his head to look at the boy eye-to-eye. For all his harsh jabs, he would always make sure that his patient understood the risks. "I'm going to try something dangerous. It might hurt, or have unforeseen consequences, or kill you if that faun is smarter than I give him credit. So, is the deal on? I didn't hear a yes."

Whim

A faint look of indignation washed across Kai's face. "My upbringing was just fine, thank you.You can't blame me for being a bit suspicious. After all there are bounties for you plastered across every pub in La'marri."

"Its not true, is it? Just some crotchety druid cross with you?" he laughed nervously. The young man didn't want to know. Certainly the fey-folk and their priests were easily offended, Kai knew that better than anyone. But for the first time it struck the boy that he really was at the mercy of this strange and potentially dangerous creature. It was hard to imagine any necromancy or demoncraft happening in this lush, sunkissed meadow, but that didn't mean a thing.

This deal was sounding worse and worse. But he had to go through with it.

"I haven't much choice, do I? Either I'm fixed or I'll be a jackass pulling a plow forever," that was a slight exaggeration. But one he needed. "Well, I suppose I'd live comfortably in my family's stables, but its a humiliating prospect just the same. My answer is yes if you try your best."
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

That was all the permission Aréharis needed. He lowered his head, horn once again a moment away from impaling the boy. His eyes closed, there was nothing now in the material world he needed to see for this. He could hear the echoes of the faun's cursed words, feel them entwine the boy's destiny, like vines wrapped around a dying tree. The words were meanings and implications, the exact phrasing could be imprecise because the caster already controlled what form the punishment should take. The faun had decided on a donkey. Aréharis supposed any equine would have been suitable to work the land, but the boy just didn't have the figure to become a draught horse.

The curse was a sickness of kinds, it had symptoms that could actually progress into worse versions of themselves until the curse's terms were met. This curse revolved around transformation magic, and one of the basic ground principles of transformation was that the subject always had a 'true', or natural form to revert to. Most creatures went through their whole lives in their natural forms, the way it should be. If Aréharis tried to revert the boy to his true form, that would only be treating the symptom, not the cause. He needed a permanent solution, otherwise the curse would just keep coming back.

Aréharis had never tried directly affecting another being's destiny before. That was what curses themselves did, so most magic scholars assumed that tampering with destiny was itself casting curses on another being. The unicorn had another theory, that in fact, altering destiny back on-course was the equivalent of an anti-curse. It was, as he had told the boy, an incredibly dangerous thing to try, but Aréharis' best try was significantly better than most mortal mages. He would introduce a new term, effective immediately, that would hopefully cancel the original curse.

He will take his true form, Aréharis commanded, feeling the intrinsic magical field of the world tremor at his words. He will live and die a human.

Something was wrong. For the briefest of moments, Aréharis wondered if his brilliant theory had a flaw. Then, he found himself being physically propelled back from the boy. Pain shot through him as he collapsed onto his side, instinctively tucking in his legs so he wouldn't snap them under his own body weight. His ears were ringing and his body felt like he'd run headfirst into a pile of broken glass. A thousand sharp stinging points seemed to cut into him, and the unicorn let out a whinnyish yell.

Aréharis staggered up to his hooves and trotted around in a circle, snorting and shaking his head, blinking furiously. He was used to being on the receiving end of pain, but that typically came from being attacked by his enemies. He had never had one of his own spells fail on him that dramatically before. He felt the tarantula scurrying up and down his barrel in a frenzy, so he calmed himself down to an agitated walk, and bent his head around to nose her gently.

"I'm unharmed, Miss Mapleleaf. I see you're alright too." Aréharis did not bother apologising, he doubted the tarantula would understand the concept. Still, perhaps next time he tried anti-curses, he would let her crawl off into a bush first. He turned to look at the boy, his hope that it had worked dying as quickly as it had been born. For the first time that morning, Aréharis could think of nothing to say. He shuffled awkwardly, his ears folding back. The anti-curse theory might need a bit of work, he decided.

Whim

Kai felt the very tip of the horn touch his tunic. Areharis' eyes were shut; he seemed to be silently mouthing some phrase to himself. The meadow grew unusually still. There was no wind, no singing birds, not even the bees stirred. And then it happened.

An unseen force knocked Areharis and Kai appart. The youth rolled several meters down the hill. He tried to push himself up, but found his fingers numb and unresponsive. Black hooves had replaced his hands and russet fur was sprouting from his spasming forearms. Kai heard the sickening crunch of bone, but was relieved to feel only the tickle of pins and needles. The curse wasn't sadistic, he thought.

"Agh!" Kai let out a frightened yelp. "What did you-" his words were cut off by a loud, equine HAWW!

Now on four equine legs now and the change was migrating from his extremities to his core. It felt like he was being strangled as his coat and silk shirt were straining against muscle, fat, and viscera. With all his might he strained his neck to see just what was happening back there, though he already had some idea of the damage. Nonetheless, Kai's head wouldn't move that way. And soon the tickle of change crept up his neck which lengthened and thickened. The boy's vision momentarily blacked as his face rearranged itself. And in the span of a minute the young man was replaced with an ass.

"You said- you said you could fix me!" Kai sputtered in anger, fear, indignation, horror, and shock. At least he could still talk. And in a valiant effort tor regain his humanity he tried to stand up, only to rear, hooves flailing. Despite his inexperience at being equine his body knew very well what it was doing. The new smells, new perspective, and much greener world didn't faze him one bit.

"I'm a human turned into a donkey, not a donkey turned into a human! You've got to reverse it!" the transformed boy trotted excitedly in a circle.
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

"A very successful transformation," Aréharis added, trotting after the donkey, in the vague hope that some equine body language might calm down the more donkey-ish parts of the boy's mind. Aréharis realised he should probably try to remember the youth's name, since it seemed that they would be spending more time with each other than he had expected. "You make a fine donkey, actually... er, I mean, with magic as unpredictable as this, you're fortunate to have such a healthy conformation."

Aréharis hated trying to be comforting, it was the one time he started tripping over his words and coming out with awkward phrases. He could lecture for hours about magic and healing and various forbidden arts, but trying to make someone feel better was like trying to grasp with his hooves. It was absurd, and he gave up on it quite easily. At least in this case he was telling the truth - the transformation had been complete, and no apparent complications had arisen. For all Aréharis knew, the boy could have lost his mind entirely, or the body could have been disfigured into some even more horrid mix of species. Aréharis actually found it more reassuring talking to a donkey, the emotional cues were a lot easier to read for the unicorn than the expressions of a human face.

"Listen to me! Of all the equines you could possibly be, donkeys are sturdy, and have an excellent instinct for self-preservation. A lot of them outlive their daft human masters. That could have gone a lot worse, the fact that you are not screaming in agony is quite encouraging." Aréharis tried to corral the donkey into standing still, mainly because the unicorn was getting dizzy. "Boy! Er... Kyle. We made an agreement and I stick by it. I will restore your humanity, but it will take time. I can do many things, but if I had perfected the art of cursebreaking by now... you probably wouldn't know me from my wanted posters."

The hills were growing darker. Aréharis blinked, only noticing the clouds now as they blotted out the sun. They were hanging heavy, and there was the scent of a storm on the breeze. There was something unusual about the way the weather was turning, and Aréharis was sure he knew its cause. Powerful magics often had unpredictable side effects in the environment, it was fortunate that all his meddling had done was stir up wind, and impending rain. He supposed that was good enough for the son of Arweharis, the great summoner of sandstorms and hellish desert tornadoes they called dust devils.

"You need time to recover, and I need time to think. There is no more we can do here," Aréharis insisted, shaking his head. He felt the tarantula on his barrel scurry up to take shelter in the long black locks of his mess of a mane. By comparison, his companion's mane was stiff and upright. It was interesting, Aréharis noted, how the donkey's russet fur seemed to have inherited its reddish hue from the human's hair colour. Transformations didn't necessarily carry over traits of the previous form, hence why magical disguises could be so difficult to uncover. Perhaps this curse was tormenting the youth with reminders of his old self. Aréharis' ears flicked as the low distant roll of thunder reverberated through the hills. "I know where there is shelter. We should get out of sight. I've been found twice today, I wouldn't bet my life that a little rain will stop another hunter from trying to claim it."

Whim

Something in the very back of Kai's head told him all that prancing and pacing was inappropriate; much like standing when everyone else is kneeling. The donkey calmly halted, snorting at Areharis' explanation. The unicorn had no reason to lie; or to hurry along his transformation. He moistened unfamiliar lips with his tongue, "Its Kai!" he calmed himself, "And sorry, you did warn me. Suppose it must be a bit insulting for you to lament being a horse; it could be quite a bit worse. Could've had mis-matched hands and hooves. Or been made a rickety twenty year old donkey."

It felt better to say that. And Areharis was right. His body felt strong and energetic enough, but for an itch on his rump he was sure he couldn't reach. Anger and horror had passed. The whole situation simply felt unreal.

"Lead on," Kai murmured as Areharis turned to trot off. He had little choice but to stick by his new companion now. The donkey stood helpless for a moment, looking over his ruined clothes, his sword, and his pack. Jai tried grasping a small satchel in his teeth but it proved uncomfortable. He nudged it toward the shelter of the tree with his hoof, and trotted to catch up with the unicorn.

Kai always had a small streak of vanity. Though hardly an Adonis he had pleasing features. Being a shaggy donkey besides a unicorn didn't sit right with him. Areharis wasn't the archetypical white unicorn, though his sleek coat and wild black fetlocks certainly made him the standout amidst the two equines. Then he saw something move.

"There's- I think I saw a spider crawl up you."
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

"She's venomous, don't touch her." Aréharis snapped. Strangers sometimes tried to slap, catch, or claw the tarantula, so he had learned to ward them off quickly. He shot an annoyed glare at the donkey. "She minimises my unwanted social interactions, and keeps me clear of flies. Oh, that's something you'll have to look forward to. She can also eat small fairies."

Aréharis lapsed into silence, suddenly picking up the pace of the trot up through rocky slopes and thick exposed tree roots, as if he were daring the donkey to keep up. He knew he was being unfair, but the youth's statement had irritated him more than he knew it should. It was that same tone he heard everywhere. There was a spider on him, so something must be wrong. A unicorn could be friend to all beasts, but only the right ones.

The canopy of the forest hissed and rustled in warning of the storm overhead, as the two equines climbed the long spur of the hill, the ground sloping away on either side to two dark gullies. Fat raindrops were started to punch little craters into the dirt, speckling the stones and running cool rivulets down Aréharis' neck. He slowed as they reached a rocky outcrop. Slanted stone walls jutted up from the ground, where winds, rains and time had carved curved recesses that could shelter them from the storm. Aréharis' ears flicked as the rising gale moaned, sweeping through the pile of boulders and cracked stone shelves. He found a little alcove for them in the lee of the rock formation. It was bare of grass, not even deep enough to be called a cave, but at least the overhang of rock above them kept out the rain, and the air in it was calm, if cold. Outside, the branches of the darkening forest began to sway drunkenly.

"Spiders are solitary," Aréharis said abruptly. "It's just as well. Their constant diligence benefits all, yet they are hated. They do not know gratitude, nor expect pity. I know magical creatures that claim to protect nature's gifts, then are repulsed at the sight of a spider."

He fell silent again, regarding the donkey less harshly than before. He supposed transformations, curses and what must seem like all the evils of the magical world personified in one unicorn outlaw was a lot to handle for one so young. Yet was youth not the best time to experience such trials? After all, every beast faced the hardship of their fate the moment they were born. Kai was handling it better than some unicorns would, Aréharis thought, amusing himself at the idea of his proud and haughty fellow-creatures braying in horror as they turned into chubby little jackasses. And therein was the point Aréharis was searching for.

"Nature has many guardians," Aréharis explained. "Yet all their eyes are focused on the same select creatures, the ones in which they see something of themselves. So it is with me. I see a spider and love her for her industriousness, how her cunning geometry is both delicate art and ruthless practicality. I see mortal and fey alike sweep aside her works with a shudder, uncaring that yesterday she killed the diseased mosquito that would have infected them today. Then I see she goes back to work, for there is still tomorrow to come."

The woods were momentarily lit white, and the thunder cracked against the hillside moments later. Aréharis shook himself of the few droplets still clinging to his coat, and tucked his legs to lay down on the smooth, eroded stone floor. "Perhaps you see nothing of yourself in your new form. I don't know you well enough to say. But it would be easier for you, if you did. If you can live as a donkey for now, I can work out why you are not human instead."

Even as Aréharis spoke, he seemed distracted by heavy, painful thoughts. He had little idea of where to go with his theories, and every experiment he took would be an even greater risk to Kai. He was no closer to solving the original curse, and now on top of that, he had to work out where his own magic had gone wrong. The unicorn gazed out over the forests bending and bowing before the storm, but he saw little of it.

Whim

Kai burst into a trot. It was a brisk and uncomfortable pace, his legs were shorter after all, but they knew what they were doing. It was alarming how well he took to walking on all fours. What else of him, his inner self, had become donkey-like? It was better than breaking a leg.

"My family took in an orphan to clean the stables. We used to play together. He was a wild and rambunctious thing; the cook never let him dine with the other servants. Do you think its the unpleasant work of catching flies and mucking stalls that gets you shunned; or's it all you've left as an outcast?" he mused. "Just the same he was the only one who didn't tip-toe around my tale and just laughed. The honest was at least appreciable.

"But I don't know. Do you think spiders and stableboys say something about how we're ungrateful toward smallfolk?" he whickered. It was supposed to be a short laugh. The unicorn was surely touchy on the subject of bats, rats, snakes, foxes, and other vermin too. He was beginning to worm to Areharis but the spider briefly reminded him of a very permissive sort of gentry; the sort who took to slumming, let poachers run wild, allowed drunken youths to wreck up storefronts. "Or maybe we're rightfully leery of poisonous spiders and unwashed boys?"

The donkey watched Areharis lower himself on the stoney floor. He tried to mimick the gesture, bending his legs and tucking the left side beneath him. Kai rolled over with a sharp grunt. "Agh!"

"How long do you think it will take to try again? And live as a donkey?" the young man snorted indignantly. He didn't care one bit for the phrasing or implications, "I suspect I'll be eaten by wolves out here. Unless you're suggesting I wander up to a farm and volunteer to pull a cart."
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

"You should not stay with me long," Aréharis muttered, his eyes still focused on some distant point beyond the grey horizon. "I can protect you from harm, but you don't need a reputation as an outlaw's accomplice. It's your decision to risk, though."

There was nowhere truly safe, Aréharis knew that very well. Even if he used magic to hide the donkey's hoofprints and scent, the magic itself made its own print, for those who would be looking. Anyone mad enough to be chasing a wanted unicorn would have no qualms going after Kai too. Aréharis did not trust farmers either, they struck him as exactly the sort of creatures that would tell anyone anything, just to break the monotony of their existences.

"Stay away from your kind. They are a greater danger than wolves to you right now," Aréharis warned. "A unicorn might skirt the village of La'marri unaccosted, but humans see every donkey and horse as something to use, or break."

The unicorn leaned his head forward, and began rhythmically scraping the tip of his horn against the smooth rock. Scrape, scrape, scrape. Was there a herd that might take in the donkey? Not a horse herd, they would not slow down and wait for the shorter equine to catch up if there was danger to flee. Where was the nearest herd of wild ponies, though? Scrape, scrape, scrape. Could he transform Kai into something else in the meantime? He would rather not risk it, the curse would probably just tear apart any further transformation magic, and the boy would suffer even more. Scrape, scrape, scrape.

"It could be a week, it could be a year, it could be tomorrow," Aréharis said, seeming indifferent. He knew the boy treasured time greater than he did, but the unicorn felt no inclination to rush into killing his patient with another botched spell. "You may stay with me or go as you please - it will not be difficult for me to find you. Do you not have any compani- er, friends of your own? In my experience, this region is notoriously infested with magical busybodies who attach themselves to anyone with a pretty face."

Whim

"Pretty face..." Kai murmured with a snort. He did take some consolation in his face being pretty. He supposed older people must feel that way too. "I don't think I'll have nymphs and fauns chasing me any time soon like this.

"And I came alone. I've not exactly stopped to take in the scenery or make friends in La'marri. Shame. Its got a nice pastoral charm." It was foolish to come alone to a strange land, especially like this, but he had his reasons and didn't care. Though surely a unicorn, of all sylvan creatures, had ought to understand the importance of pride and image. "I hadn't wanted anyone to see me transforming. It'd hardly have reflected well on me or my family... to be forever remembered as the donkey-boy, you know."

The donkey turned to appraise the unicorn. Eating grass out here, alone, for weeks on end sounded maddening and horrible. But someone wanted Areharis dead, Kai reminded himself. And maybe there were worse fates than being a jackass. The sidhe and their ilk were not forgiving.

"So just what do I risk travelling with you? That is if I opt out of a year spent grazing in a meadow, which seems my only recourse... You never did say one way or that other if that bounty was true; because it read like something out of a Connlaothian hovel doesn't mean it wasn't," he hesitated. He was being rather pushy for someone asking for help. "I suppose I've not much right to ask."
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

Aréharis inclined his head. Of course, the boy had left his family. Memory was the one thing that lasted when it came to mortals. He tried not to sympathise with Kai, he didn't want to start becoming friendly or anything, that would only make things harder when inevitably his own curse would come back to bite them both. He had already experienced that enough times to avoid becoming too close with the few that tolerated him. Yet he almost envied Kai, in a way. He would no doubt outlive many of his family members, especially now he was entangled in a unicorn's magic - the sort of magic where health and longevity could be unforeseen side-effects. Aréharis on the other hand would probably never see the back of his father for good. When he had been younger and quicker to anger, Aréharis had considered dueling Arweharis horn-to-horn over the curse. Ultimately, he knew that would have been pointless; the curse had no stipulations about ending once his father was dead.

The storm seemed to be worsening, the torrent of raindrops hammering the hills and trees, an eerie greenish hue lighting up the swirling clouds overhead. Aréharis knew this sort of weather; it would put on a big show for an hour, peter out into a pleasantly quiet drizzle, then disappear as fast as it had come. As Kai mentioned Aréharis' bounty, another roll of thunder gently wound through the boulders. There was a moment of quiet after that, apart from the raindrops, and Aréharis was not sure he wanted to break it by answering. Yet, if he was going to allow Kai to travel with him, then the boy would have to know the risks, including the ones from Aréharis himself. That was fair, and fairness was a scarce and precious thing to the unicorn.

"The accusations some wish to behead me for are true," Aréharis explained, his tone suggesting no remorse for any of his actions. "Most magic users merely stand in the shallows and are content to explore no further, as you are aware by now. They see the vast ocean of knowledge beyond their paltry shore and deem it all too dangerous to be understood, and so anyone that tries must also be dangerous. So why explain myself to them? Why answer to their irrational fears and inconsistent laws?"

The unicorn seemed to realise he was starting to sound very self-pitying. He shook his head, amused at himself. The boy couldn't truly understand, unless Aréharis actually told him about his own curse, and that was something he was not quite willing to do just yet. "The charge of Demoncraft refers to my summoning of M'nemaxa, which is a long story worth telling in better circumstances than here. The charge of Blood Magic refers to a few of my healing spells that require a blood sacrifice. It's all done with consent, but apparently taboos on blood sacrifice outweigh the benefits of saving lives. As for the charge of Necromancy... you'll have enough trouble sleeping tonight. Perhaps I'll tell you about it another time."

Though unicorns are not known for smiling, as such human-ish expressions have little meaning in the equine world, there was something a little mischievous in Aréharis' eyes as he regarded Kai. "The storm should clear by evening. If you want a taste of the risks you'll be running with me, I have some errands to attend to near the village of La'marri. You're steady on your hooves already. That should come in useful, should we need to run."

Whim

Kai felt ill at ease in the rain. The inability to hear beyond a short radius was alarming; but the scents were intense and conjured old memories of summer. Like when he took the chandler's daughter out to the gazebo and it rained (they were both so shy; he felt bad about practicing on low born girls, but she was just practicing too.) Or how Channy, his little brother who was always surly and obnoxious, gripped his arm like steel when he told ghost stories in the attic. He'd rather not ponder reactions to his disappearance.

"I've only ever learned a few parlour tricks or invocations to turn away arrows. I suppose we do have magic in our blood but-" he truly hadn't paid that much mind to magical theory. Wizards tended to annoy him in how they thought they were the be-all-end-all of progress and civilization. "-we use metal tools too but it hardly means we need to learn smithing. I've found most mages don't like the idea there are short-cuts to things they've gone gray trying to learn. Or the idea a farmer's keeping everyone fed is just as important in the grand scheme of things.

"Making tea-cups float might be a usful bit of prestidigitation now. Is there some trick to working magic with your hooves?" his rump still itched. It didn't occur to Kai unicorns might work a different, more primal sort of sorcery than what humans could manage; or that as a jackass he might not have magic in him anymore.

The charges otherwise didn't mean much as he considered it. The young lord was grateful for any traveling companion, and Areharis'... justification for blood magic seemed sufficient enough.

"So what sort of errands does a wanted unicorn have amongst humans?"
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic

Willard

"Does casual frolicking with the magical essence of reality amuse you?" Aréharis snorted at the absurd mental image of a donkey trying to drink out of a teacup. "A piece of clay defying the natural order matters little, but remember there was no storm before I interfered with your curse. Magic is never neatly contained. Don't humans have a saying about playing with fire?"

Aréharis considered Kai for a moment. There was no reason the donkey should not be able to use whatever elementary arcane knowledge he possessed, as far as the unicorn could tell. Donkeys were not inherently non-magical, unless they were born a Mordecai. The question was whether or not it could be applied in the same way. If Kai could only cast his tricks with his hands, then perhaps it would not be so simple. Aréharis knew a lot of a unicorn's healing magic was connected to the horn as a kind of anchor point. Could hooves be an anchor point? In all his travels, Aréharis had never met a donkey, horse or any other equine that practiced magic the way humans did.

He was distracted from his thoughts by yet another question from the boy. He rolled his eyes irritably, wondering if all human society was a never ending inquisition about motives and reasons. It certainly felt that way when they were so often questioning his own. "There's more than humans living in La'marri. I have need of information, if I am to survive this latest gold rush for my head. I have quick wits and a sharp horn, but it's easier if someone tells me where the next assassin's coming from before he actually arrives. Or she, considering this morning's casualty."

Aréharis did not bother explaining what he was referring to. Better to let Kai's imagination fill in whatever horrible fate befell the assassin that crossed the unicorn's path, rather than admit that her death was more the result of clumsiness and a hasty root-growing spell.

"You are a unique case. A donkey with a human education in magic, or at least the beginnings of one. Try a spell, if you can. It is worth at least one experiment," Aréharis suggested. "Even if nothing occurs, it's interesting from a scholarly perspective. Specifically, my scholarly perspective."

Aréharis doubted either of them would be recording the results of any of their experiments for posterity. After all, a unicorn's memory is everlasting, and in some ways better than a written history. Besides, the idea of being the only unicorn to know the secret of curse-breaking, if he ever did find it, was quite a thrilling thought.

Whim

"Serendipity is notorious for frolicking with the make-up of reality. Though it didn't work out too well for its for-bearers," the donkey snorted and thrust his head north, toward the nameless and forgotten sorcerer-kingdom. "I suppose some of your kind might be old enough to even remember it."

"Do you think a bit of levitation would really interrupt the cosmic balance? Clearly conjuring the odd daemon for augury doesn't," he would have smirked if he was able to. "I've no idea how your kind gets along without hands."

Kai looked toward  nearby crabapple, some yards away. The first cantrip he ever learned was to open doors and grab objects from afar. It was mostly all in the fingers, though he'd known amputees who projected the force from other muscles instead. "Iri'su," Kai enunciated carefully, staring at the fruit. He nipped the air, mindful of each muscle contraction. An unseen force plucked the crabapple and it rolled a few inches. It was meant to hover in the air as though gripped by fingers or teeth. "Shit."

The youth repeated the gesture nearly a dozen more times. The crapabble continued to roll a few more inches, but that was that. Kai snorted in frustration. "Sorry. Bet you're sick of that. As good as its going to get, I suppose..."

The storm-clouds began to clear. Kai's mind raced with the thought of what would happen if he had to go home like this. It was a ridiculous notion. Still, however sardonic and dour Areharis' was compared to his counterparts... he was still a unicorn.

Kai's thoughts slowly drifted into dreams. And some hours later he awoke in an alien body with a frightened yelp that came out a bray.
Awesome avatar by Eckhart_von_Musel

Guilds:
Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Events:
The Midnight Harvest
Into the Mouth of Qokagax

Characters:
Ewan ap Rhys - once a great sorcerer, now a small boy
Anwen ferch Rhys - scholar of blood magic
Duke Blackthorn - Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe, and all-around evil faerie
"Kaliam" - magically conjoined apprentice wizards
Maergath - Magister of Soulshaping, necromancer, angry and hateful wizard
Narlis Thordane - Hero for hire, proud and unrepentant scumlord
Niamh Wayrest - trader in forbidden lore, purveyor of curiosities
OLIVER THE BARBARIAN - a very reluctant hero and monster-slayer
Sage Whitechalk - heir to the Whitechalk Family
Saoirse Nettlefield - Headmistress of Wyrdwood, conniving academic