A Summoning: Part XIII

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XIII
~Fool, Part 2~

Zotha walked out of her last class in the afternoon, and considered what she should do first. There had been (figurative) radio silence from her little high priestess; she had a general sense of where Jess was and what she was doing available at will, and since she also seemed to be through with classes, the demoness decided to touch base. So, what have you been up to? Any plans?
Hello Master! I have been checking on your worshipers and helping with any problems they've been having with their rewards. A few of the ones who didn't come yesterday even came to me asking to be let back in and rewarded too. With your permission...

Sure. Same rules as always. Do you need any help?
Nope! I have everything under control, so you can do whatever you like this afternoon, Jess reported cheerfully. Well, checking in on all the cult members had been a perpetual habit of Jerod's for quite a while anyway. So...

The deity had already walked on autopilot into one of the alleys between school buildings. There were people crossing through here on the sidewalk; she turned aside to lean against the wall to the right, and made herself undetectable but with an unconscious drive for those passing to avoid bumping into her. She mused that she could probably have made herself and her stuff selectively intangible too, but this worked just fine, as she got out her phone and sent along a text to the girl who had come to her at lunch. It seemed she, too, was finished with classes for today, and would soon reach her grandfather's house—which she'd been staying in to go to school anyway, as it was in town. A short wait later, the promised meeting was arranged for—as soon as the deity got there. After plugging the address into her phone's map to get a sense of its location, Zotha was easily able to teleport herself straight there—or at least to a nearby street corner to inconspicuously walk the rest of the way. Her last text's exact words were “Be there very soon!”, and indeed she was, delicately placing a finger on the doorbell button next the door just once before dropping the hand to her side, waiting the brief moment for someone to come to the door.

The door was slowly, hesitantly opened by the girl, which gave Zotha her first look at the interior of the house. It opened into the living room, which had a fireplace mantle and bookshelves covered in all manner of knickknacks and fragile-looking souvenirs. A couch and a couple of chairs were facing the fireplace, and there was no TV in sight—at least not in this room. In general, it read to her as an older person's house—no surprise there—though it did look remarkably well-kept-up, with no obvious dust or neglect—for the home of someone who had been in a hospital bed quite recently.

“Um, L-lady Zotha,” she said nervously. “Welcome..uh..please, come in.”
The demoness nodded, entering as offered and getting a closer look at some of the shelf decorations. There were bits of things from all over the world, as far as she could tell, as well as some pieces with a few different names prominently displayed on them. One particular shelf at eye level, as well as the end tables next to the seating, were occupied with photos—an old man and woman, a younger couple and a little girl featuring prominently in several of them, with just a few featuring the same man but older alongside—clearly—Zotha's present host.

“My grandpa's um..h-he'll be out in a minute,” she said, seemingly not wanting to explicitly state he was in the restroom. “We didn't think you meant exactly uhm..this soon.”

“That's all right. I did cheat a little to get here. If I'd walked the whole way, it might've been as much as half an hour,” she said, still looking around at it all. Before long she did turn to her worshiper to say, “So, could you give me an idea of what you told him, so I know where we stand here?”
“Yes! Um. So, i-it's just, I told him that someone powerful and nice had, offered me a wish, and that I'd used it to, make him well again,” she said. “He got me to tell him your name, too, and um..then asked to meet.” After a second or two, she nodded, half to herself, that that was about it.

“Seems like he's on his way out now.” Zotha reported—sensing the movement of another person in the adjoining rooms.

“Ah! Um. P-please excuse me a minute,” the girl said, hurrying in that direction to—no doubt—inform him their guest had arrived.

The man seen in those photographs soon followed her back out—a tall, wiry man with clear, bright blue eyes, deep wrinkles, and the beginnings of baldness evident on his head amidst some straight, thin white hair. He wore a slightly baggy long-sleeved shirt and jeans, and greeted Zotha with a friendly grin on his way into the room. “Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” he said. “Name's Graham, miss,” he offered a hand, which she took to shake. He seemed to be going for a firm, confident shake, but had some clear weakness from the recent hospital visit.

“Zotha. But I suppose you know that already?” she said.

“Mm-hm. So,” he dropped his hand back to his side, “you're this 'wish-granter' Rachel here told me about?”

“I suppose so. I'm no genie or anything, but I did want to help you get better once she told me about you,” she said.

“Hmn. Well, thank you,” he said, “first of all. The doctors had a pretty big surprise when they scanned me one last time before that risky surgery and found it all gone all of a sudden. Nothin' short of a miracle, eh?”

“Magic, at least,” Zotha agreed with a slight nod.

The old man nodded back, and made his way over to the more comfortable-looking of the chairs. “Pardon me—I still can't walk around too much just yet. You're welcome to a seat too, if you'd like one,” he said. The demoness took him up on the offer, sitting on the far side of the couch from him, tilted a bit in his direction to continue talking.

“Now, you'll tell me the truth, won't you?” he said—still with a friendly tone, along with a slight pleading lilt and a stare fixed at her face. “I've been in and out of it for the past few months, but I'm no fool. I know when my granddaugther's involved in something she doesn't want to tell me about.” Rachel, still standing up behind the other chair, shuffled nervously to one side a bit. “I imagine most, 'magic', comes with some sort of a cost. So: Is there something she owes you for this?” he asked, waving vaguely to himself.
“Hmmn.” Zotha considered, a fingertip at her lower lip. “That's tricky to answer, you know. If I just tell you 'no' you might not believe me, and I wouldn't blame you. But it is the truth—what I needed from her I already have, and it didn't really cost her anything. I think a more full explanation might be in order.”

“Hmn.” Graham's gaze was somewhat suspicious. “Well, if you say so, go on then.”

“Okay. Let's see...three days ago—Friday, that is, I was an ordinary college student. I looked just like...this,” Zotha said, waving off to her left and simultaneously making an illusion of her previous appearance. This startled both of the humans in the room just briefly, which she allowed a pause for, before continuing. “Your granddaughter was desperate for help, as I understand it, and so had signed onto a certain...let's say, suspicious club at our school, which among other things promised its followers 'anything they wanted' if they helped achieve a particular goal. I was also a member, briefly, mainly out of curiosity. I tried to quit shortly before last Friday, so their leaders kidnapped me...”

After summarizing the salient details of the past couple of days, including a few more magically-provided visual aids to gently peel off the veil for Graham, Zotha concluded: “I'm still trying to figure this whole 'being a god' thing out, but it seems that gratitude for my acts is what 'feeds' me and my power. So when I say Rachel doesn't owe me anything more, I mean it.” Graham looked at his granddaughter—sitting on the other chair by now—who nodded, indicating that what Zotha had said matched with what she knew, at least.

“I see. It's pretty far-fetched, but I can't too well deny the evidence when I'm a part of it,” he said. “So—this desire grantin' business. Is it only for folks who helped you become what you are now, or..?”
“I'm not sure. So far I've used my powers to help at least one person who didn't, and it seemed to work out fine,” Zotha said. “I suppose there's something you'd like to ask me for?”

“Shoot, are you kiddin'?” Graham said. “Make me young again,” he said, gesturing emphatically to himself. “If that's not too much for you, I mean.”
“G-grandpa!?” Rachel sat up, startled by the sudden request.

“Being old stinks, Rachel. Anyhow, being healthy for now is amazing, more than I could ever have asked for up till now. I appreciate it, really I do, but—this body's still weak and frail, after all, and that isn't liable to get better with age. I don't want to leave you any more than you want to see me go,” he said, earnestly.
“It's all right,” Zotha said. “I haven't tried something like that before, but I don't see why it wouldn't be possible. I have made somebody already young able to stay that way...though, the method I used in that case is probably best not repeated.”
“So, you'd be willing to try it?” he asked. “I'll worship you the rest of my days if it works!”

“Heheh. Well, your being thankful for it is good enough.” The demoness stood up. “Hmn. Now...the last time I used my power to do something even slightly drastic...let's say, it has certain leanings I'm not entirely sure how to control.” She crossed her arms, half-thinking to herself. “It would really be best to attempt this in private.”

“Well, I did just get settled, but..” Graham slowly pushed himself back onto his feet. “Do you suppose my bedroom would be private enough, then?”
“Sure.” At least I can make it so, she thought. Turning toward Rachel as he started that way, she held up an index finger. “No peeking, all right? I solemnly swear this won't harm him at all.”
“Um..o-okay,” she said nervously—still entirely uncertain about the whole affair, but unwilling to object when it could mean her grandfather being healthy for the foreseeable future. After that, Zotha followed him into the hallway adjoining the living room, and finally to a small bedroom. There were two small beds with a nightstand set between them, some dressers and a shorter bookshelf—all adorned similarly to the living room, the shelf having several well-worn books lining it also.

“Heh, can't say I envisioned a pretty lady entering my room today,” Graham joked. “Hope you won't mind if I take a seat.” He sat at the edge of the bed closer to the door—the other one, though it was still made up, looked dusty, unused for a long time perhaps.

“I was just about to suggest that,” Zotha said, quietly shutting the door behind her before magically 'locking' it and soundproofing the room. “Not because of your age or present health, just that my power could knock anyone off their feet if we're not careful.”

“If you say so.” The old man looked around the room for a second or two, displaying a touch of nervousness for the first time since meeting her. “How do we go about this, then? Will it take a while?”
“It shouldn't take long at all. Just hold still where you are,” she instructed.

With that, Zotha spread her arms and spoke a command: “Bᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ.” It was gentler and far less forceful than the one she'd used on the werewolf, since there shouldn't be any will resisting this time, although the desired effects were perhaps more drastic. Preventing age was one thing, she thought, but reversing it seemed like another entirely. Nonetheless, her power responded to the command quite similarly, streams of purple magic emanating from her palms into the man seated at the edge of the bed. Instead of wrapping around him first, each stream of magic seemed to spread out to the height of his entire form before making its way into him on either side. He watched with mesmerized interest, at least until it made contact with him, which seemed to cause a slight shudder.

“Is it cold?” the demoness asked, mostly just curious; already her power was finished leaving her, but it was still in the process of entering him.
“No. It's..quite warm really,” Graham reported, before visibly fighting off another shudder. “Bit tickly, though.” Its effect was already beginning to show on his face as wrinkles started to smooth away and fade from his skin. Before it had even finished entering him the power did the work of regrowing some hair, white locks replacing the baldness and thickening the rest of his hair to a more youthful volume. Even the hair that had already been present changed a bit, starting to look softer and bouncier along with the new strands. It was curious that it was all white—for surely it hadn't been originally—but Zotha knew that would probably be the least of the alterations made before it was over.

“Hmmnnh.” The magic fully in him now, Graham stretched in place, reaching his arms up and arching his back a little bit. His skin turned fully smooth and youthful, and now he was shaving off years internally, too, stiff bones and sore muscles loosening up and softening. When he came out of the stretch his hair began to grow longer, soft white locks trickling their way down his forehead, the sides of his face, and across the back of his neck. “Oh, this feels wonderful,” he said, oblivious to the hair growth for now. “Don't think I've felt so good in twenty years!”
“Seems like it's working, then,” Zotha said, nodding approvingly. His face changed a little more now, growing smaller and rounder in addition to the softened skin. Besides that, Graham started to shrink ever so slightly as the hair made its way just to his shoulders, framing the shrinking face to give it an even more youthful, almost cute look.

“Yeah! Hahah..mmMNnnh!” He stretched again, and this time bent himself back farther than would have probably been advisable a short moment ago. The damage of age disappeared from his insides now, his very bones and organs turning to those of a man in his mid-twenties at the latest, and he came out of the stretch with a bright, energetic grin that broadcasted a steady buildup of youthful energy inside him as the long years fell away. “I feel like I could run a marathon! Or at least get around my house without getting tired, eh?” he joked, still not noticing the hair across his shoulders, or the bangs threatening to block his eyes, or even the locks making their way down past his chest in the back. His slow shrinking began to speed up now, and along with a loss of height Zotha observed his shirt growing even baggier on him as his shoulders began to narrow, his waist flattening and slimming.

“Hahahah...aa~aah..” Graham sighed, his voice rising ever so slightly in pitch in the midst of it. He squirmed slightly in place, beginning to, perhaps unconsciously, register something else changing. “Now that's a funny kind of feelin',” he said. “Hm~mnh..” His voice began higher than the previous sentence, and climbed again. “Like everything's getting, bigger..?” He looked around, his increasingly long hair swishing about him. At this point Zotha's magic began affecting his clothes, first making his shirt shrink to fit his smaller form—mostly, at least; the collar seemed to widen and the sleeves only became a little bit shorter, still fairly loose on his slimming arms. Its color and pattern began to fade toward the same pure, snowy white as his hair, and the hem puffed out slightly, starting to gain some kind of trim.
“You do appear to be shrinking,” Zotha said. She found she really didn't want to spoil the 'surprise' for him, any more than she had wanted to warn him about the possibility ahead of time.

“I-I see. Aa~ah.” He made this sound seemingly absently, and his voice rose to a clear tenor as he did. “Still feels pretty good, but...h-how young are you making me, exactly?”

“You should still be an adult when it's through,” she said. “I made sure of that.”

“I-I see..” Graham's pants slid down off of his hips, revealing a pair of underwear which was clearly in the midst of transforming from boxers into something much shorter and tighter—already it hugged his hips a bit tightly, and the leggings were hugging closer than any ordinary underwear would be. Then the jeans split apart down the middle, beginning to thin into soft cloth and wrap themselves tightly against his slimming legs. He was preoccupied during this with awkwardly squirming in place, reaching a hand up past a suddenly overlong sleeve just in time to see it shrinking, the fingers turning small and delicate while the nails grew a bit longer and changed from stubby and clipped to looking very recently manicured. “Th-the~en..?” His voice cracked slightly, starting to sound less like a man's and more like a boy's. “What's..why'm I..?”

His eyes fluttered just a bit, and then Graham stretched again, seemingly not entirely voluntarily. He let out a relieved-sounding “Mm~mnh” in a young boy's voice all the same, as he leaned himself completely backwards across the width of the bed, his limber frame arching up in the middle as the last vestiges of stiffness gave way to considerably more flexibility than perhaps he'd ever had before. At the very same moment, his ears stretched out, poking their way past his long, voluminous hair as big triangles covered in white fuzz which rapidly erupted into proper fur, complete with thick fluff adorning the inside of each ear.

“Ah, aa~aah..” Graham settled over onto his back rather than sitting up again, squirming slowly as his body shrank a little more, the white sweater tightening on his slender torso only slightly while the leggings that had once been a pair of jeans pulled snugly against his smooth, shapely legs, their color brightening into wide horizontal stripes of white and gray. His hands reached down and gripped the top tightly, inadvertently pulling its thick fur trim up enough to reveal a pair of tight, soft panties which had entirely replaced his underwear, and which were now hugging close against a tiny bulge just barely visible between his legs. “Mnh, I-I get it now,” he murmured in a soft, high, girlish voice.

Just after this, the once-old man thrashed slightly in place, letting out a somewhat loud, very feline “Mrrr~rrooo~owww!” as his sex changed fully, the panties pulling flat and snug between her legs, and at the same time a long, slim tail covered in snowy white fur spilled its way out from her back, sliding audibly across the top cover of the bed as it went. Her mouth was open enough during this cry for Zotha to make out the steady growth of a few of her teeth into catlike fangs, further confirming her conversion into another kind of animal-ish person.

“Aah, aa~aah..” Graham's movements slowed temporarily as her voice audibly matured just slightly into a soft, high soprano fitting her cute, petite form. Then she let out a long, deeply pleased purr as her figure developed, her hips and thighs thickening just slightly and pushing the tight clothing against each out just enough to remain taut against them. Meanwhile her chest puffed forward into a tiny pair of bumps at first, but then with another feline cry not unlike the one that had accompanied her change of sex those bumps rapidly pushed their way out into a sizable pair of breasts visible even through the relatively loose-fitting sweater.

“Mrrr~rrh...” After that, the youthened catgirl let out a long, sighing purr of relief as the intense feelings from the transformation faded off, allowing her at first to physically relax and then to slowly sit herself up on the bed and, just as slowly, open her eyes and blink up at the deity responsible for all of that a couple of times. Letting go of the sweater so it could properly hide her hips and underwear from view again, she said, “Well, I suppose this is the 'leanings' you mentioned. Mrow..some particular reason I feel so much like a cat, now?” She turned her head to one side, gently lifting her tail at about the middle to examine it, at which point both she and Zotha noticed something unusual at the tip—for just an inch or so there, it split off into two tail-tips, each one the same thickness as the rest of the tail was up to the base.

“I can't say exactly why, but the influx of power turned you into a...'Neko',” Zotha said, tapping into some sort of inherent knowledge source similar to when she had briefly channeled the fox goddess's words. The difference this time was a clear lack of any conscious entity directing her words, instead feeling as though the universe itself was feeding her the desired information regarding the results of her order. “It seems likely that you have some Neko ancestry, but not enough for those traits to have manifested without 'help'. And..I guess you're also 'wise' enough for your tail to start splitting?”

“Uh, 's that a bad thing?” she asked, letting go to look up again. Graham's concerned expression was positively adorable, only further enhanced by her ears twitching ever so slightly and her tail starting to swish back and forth against the bed behind her as soon as she let it free.
“Not at all. Apparently if it splits all the way up to its base, turning into two complete tails, you become a 'Nekomata', which um..the traits of which include immortality and amazing magical powers.”
“Well, isn't that something?” She reached up and ran a hand across one of her ears. “Think I'll keep it, then. I admit it feels much better than I would've thought if you'd told me ahead of time.”

“Don't get me wrong,” Zotha said, crossing her arms, “I had no idea it'd turn you part cat. Actually it's the, ah, other thing my power seems inclined to do for some reason.”
“Oh.” The catgirl dropped the hand from her ear again and carefully hefted one of the new assets adorning her chest a bit, looking down to examine it. “Well, this is pretty nice too.” She dropped her arm and looked up again. “I've lived a whole life as a man, after all, so if I'm gonna go through it all again, the other side of the fence oughta at least be a change of pace. And maybe it'll help me relate to my granddaughter a bit more, eh?” She hopped up onto her feet—her forehead now about where the demoness's chest was—and looked around. “Gonna take some getting used to, being this short, though.”

“I could fix that, you know,” Zotha said. “Now that the drastic change is done, it's easy enough to change individual physical characteristics.”
“Hmn..” Graham considered this for a moment, even bringing a finger up to her lips as she thought. “Nah. It's such a big change I can hardly say what I like or don't just yet. If the offer's open, I'd like to try and get used to this before complainin' about it too much.”
“Fair enough. Iiin that case, then, we'll need to break this to Rachel somehow,” the demoness said.
“There is that, now, isn't there? Heheh, I'm shorter'n she is now!” she said with a bright grin. “I'm sure she'll be happy it worked. Even if grandpa's different, he—ah, she can stay with her as long as she likes, now!”

“True.”

Zotha started to turn toward the door to open it again, when the small Neko grabbed onto a sleeve, briefly restraining her. “Yes?”
“Before we do go tell her, allow me one particular gesture of gratitude,” Graham said. “I've got quite an urge to do it, all of a sudden.”
“Well...sure, I suppose?” she shrugged.

“Mrow!” With that, the smaller girl pounced upward, catching the deity off-guard enough for her to stumble back just slightly, pulling her small, slim arms around Zotha in a tight hug. She'd placed herself high up enough to lean a cheek against one of Zotha's, their hair mingling and her soft ear tickling the corner of the demoness's head.

“Whoa—heheh.” She gently returned the hug for a moment.
“Mrrh...I'm not sure if I can really express my gratitude in words, so...felt like I had to do this instead all of the sudden,” Graham said. “This must come with some powerful instincts or somethin'.”
“I imagine so.” Zotha carefully peeled the smaller girl off and set her down on the floor again. “You should know I can actually feel the gratitude coming off of you, in fact. For lack of a better word, it's 'delicious'.”
“Heheh, if you say so,” Graham said.

“Let's go, then?”
“Mm-hm.”