Wednesday, December 23, 2020

A Summoning, Part XXVI




Part XXVI
~Fool~

After reaching the dorm room, Jess had about enough time to sit down for a short break, then stand up and think about actually getting something together to eat, before some mental communication warned of some unusual incoming visitors. After that, Zotha appeared in their bedroom along with her dragon friend, who was carrying something that made the priestess lose her appetite for the moment.

“Set him here,” she said, pointing to her own bed, and Thomas complied.
“So uh, you think there's..anything you can do?” The dragon-girl took a step back to get out of Zotha's way.
“Well. We've established I can 'change' someone from injured or sick to well, but this is..a little more extreme. But hey, he's still alive. I'll just, hit this with the best I've got,” she said, rubbing her hands together briefly. Then, spreading them over the badly injured guest, she ordered: “Kɴɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs.” Her power poured down into the winged man's body then, with immediate effect.

He shuddered and twitched slightly, groaning a bit, as the worst of the cuts and bruises faded off. His armor began to put itself together, at the same time softening toward cloth and changing color toward the same pure, snowy white as hair; the clothes he had on under it were similarly hard at work putting themselves together. Zotha's power even seemed to evaporate away the grit and blood, leaving him, his clothes, and the bed fully clean before the healing was even half-complete.

After this, he convulsed briefly again, and then his previously shallow, ragged breathing stabilized. The purple glow of the goddess's power remained visible about him as his wounds continued to disappear, none of them leaving behind so much as a scar. He gave a vocal sigh of relief then, a slow “Haahhh..” as the pain he'd been feeling left entirely. But, of course, the overall change was still far from done; even as the healing went, he still only had one wing.

“Mm~mmh...” The strange man's voice rose in pitch as he folded his arms together in a sort of light self-hug and began to steadily shrink downward and inward, his half-repaired clothes keeping pace as well. His hair started to grow out, trailing down his forehead and the sides of his cheeks as his face lost its sharp, rugged qualities, instead rounding and softening into a smaller, cuter shape. His body hair vanished away as his shoulders and waist narrowed, his arms and legs slimmed and his hands and feet became smaller and smaller. “A~aah..” And his voice continued to pull up out of male reach entirely as he shuddered again; his remaining wing seemed to regain some missing feathers just before a second one violently sprouted out past his right side, at first seeming to be made out of brilliant white light which then burst off to reveal some short but growing white plumage.

“Mmm~mh..” By now his voice was high and girlish, and his body looked very small; his armor had turned into a mostly-unzipped white hoodie, and below that was a sleeveless, fairly low-cut black top and no obvious pants to speak of—leaving his slim, smooth pale legs fully visible. His hair had spread down to hip length behind him, somehow pushing its way into place between his back and the top of the bed as it went, and now his small, girlish face lit up with a blush. “...Ah!” The small, cute cry came as he jerked slightly again, though clearly not in pain this time—and changed into a girl. Then her arms lowered down to her sides as she let out a soft “Mmm~mh...” in response to her body gaining faint curves: A small pair of breasts visible under the top and a slight widening of her hips to complete a small, petite, and utterly adorable figure. By the end of this, the glow of Zotha's influence over her body had faded out completely, and the goddess dropped her own arms to her side to survey the results.

“Fffh...” The winged girl's eyes opened slowly and looked around at the various people in the room looking over her. They were a bright, pale shade of blue which seemed to match the bright shade of her wings and hair perfectly; in a moment, they were fixed on the goddess. “Greetings.” Her right hand reached up to feel the reformed wing. “I..suppose I have you to thank for restoring me?”



“Looks that way,” Zotha said. “How are you feeling? Everything..in its proper place? I admit I haven't done exactly that before.”
“Mmh, well,” she sat up, stretching her arms upward and the wings outward; Jess had to take a bit of a step back to get away from the surprisingly wide wingspan. “I feel entirely uninjured, if that is your meaning. Although I presume this..alteration in appearance was a side effect?” she said, waving toward herself.
“Right. I can undo that part if you want.”
“Hmm.” she nodded, and then finally seemed to really look at the goddess for a moment, tilting her head. Before whatever question had come to her mind could be asked, however, she remembered the dragon-girl was present.

“..Ah.” The winged girl pulled her legs around to that side of the bed to look that way more easily. “Kind dragon. I don't know whether I was coherent enough to express my gratitude to you properly before. And now, it appears you had a part in saving my life as well?”
“I guess? This is all pretty weird,” Thomas said. “Anyway, I couldn't exactly leave you there to bleed out...”
She nodded, and looked at Zotha again. “I am extremely grateful for your healing, although I am also now rather curious. You have a physical appearance similar to a demon's, but no demonic magic in you. What magic there is feels rather overwhelming, but I am having some difficulty in placing it.”
“This is Zotha,” Jess said, taking this as a cue to come around to the same side as the others and introduce her. “Goddess of change.”
“Heheh,” the deity chuckled slightly. “Right. I 'changed' you from injured to healthy—I hope.”
“It would appear that way. Though, you are an actual goddess?” Her head tilted a bit farther. “I wonder why I do not know of you.”
“Well, I only 'ascended' last Saturday,” Zotha said. “I think there are plenty of people who've never heard of me.”
“Oh! That explains it then,” she nodded. “I was made about a full week ago, so of course I would not know of events since then. And it is most unusual for a new deity to come into existence in the first place.”


Boreas was presumably at least a little surprised to see her new apprentice walking hesitantly into the shop—resuming a more relaxed, confident look as soon as she was sure there was nobody else there—but it hardly showed on the tall werewolf's face. “Morning. You're here early.”
“Uh, yeah. They canceled classes for a massive rainstorm, which then almost immediately stopped. I'm pretty confident Steph and his roommate are involved, since the latter got four tails and they've clearly been planning some prank all week,” she said. “Oh, your hair's different.”
Boreas's hair was just barely long enough to frame her face at the moment. She nodded, and then waved a hand upward slightly as the locks cascaded halfway down her height, then retracted again. “Got the potion to work. Think the 'human' version still needs some adjustment. Anyhow, it's just as well you're here early.”

While Prama came around behind the counter, she pulled out a drawer and reached in, rifling through some things to pull out a piece of paper, offering it over once the diminutive genius was in range. “Wrote this while dreaming last night,” she said. “Pretty sure it's a message for your goddess from mine.”
“Uhh..” To the short bespectacled girl, it looked like the top line said Send this to Zotha, please and the rest was completely random-looking pen scratching that didn't even resemble a code, much less a language.
“Magic writing. Rarely used these days,” Boreas said. “Supposed to only be readable by who it's intended for, but there's ways to crack it. Maybe not with La Lune casting it, though.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Prama shrugged, taking a moment to dig her phone out of her purse.

Placing the paper flat on the counter, she took a picture of the whole message and texted it to Zotha along with a brief explanation. Boreas watched this with her head very slightly tilted. “Guess that is quicker,” she mumbled.
“Well, the first line's to me and says 'send', not 'bring',” Prama shrugged, taking the paper and neatly folding it before dropping it into her purse along with the phone—just in case. “I guess you've got some real work for me, too?”
“Sure.”



“Uh..back up,” Thomas said. “You were 'made' a week ago?”
“Oh, yes,” she nodded, not appearing to find this unusual. “Sol created me for the purpose of tracking down the source of a number of weak lesser demons and eliminating it. As it turned out, the one you aided me to slay was responsible for the whole mess, but I was..less prepared than I should have been to confront it.”
“I'm not familiar with this either,” Zotha said. “You were made. A week ago. As in, created, or..?”
“Well, yes: Created,” she said. “I am a Celestial, after all.” Seeing that this explanation didn't clear up much, she continued: “Every one of my kind is made by Sol to serve a particular purpose, and endowed with general knowledge alongside anything that may be useful to fulfilling that purpose.” She held up a hand, palm forward. “'Praise Sol, who gave me life and purpose.'”

The dragon-girl crossed her arms. “This is all kinds of messed up, I don't even know where to start. Did he even, like, give you a name?”
“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head lightly. “That's for me to decide, once my purpose is fulfilled. Or—rather, there is no reason I couldn't come up with a name before then, but it's somewhat of a tradition to come up with a name after.”
“'Tradi'—how do you know what's 'tradition' if you were just made a week ago?” said Zotha.
“It's..among the knowledge I was made with,” she said, seeming confused they saw this as a problem. Putting a finger under her lips, she clarified: “Perhaps 'tradition' is a bit of a strong word for it, however. It would be more accurate to say that we tend to be created knowing it's what those who came before us did, and a majority agree that it's a good idea. As did I.”

“Ooh-kaay. So, once your 'purpose' is done, you get a name and...then what?” the goddess said.
“Ah, I skipped that part, did I? Being granted existence, intelligence, and power is a debt that one could perhaps never repay. But Sol considers it repaid once one's purpose is fulfilled. A celestial who has done his job is free to live as he chooses afterward,” she said. “Many look for ways to continue serving Sol, but just about as many go on to live their own lives.”
“And..what if someone doesn't want to do their, extremely dangerous, job?” Thomas pressed.
“Typically, Sol is disappointed, but won't act against them. He simply commissions someone else to take care of the problem,” she said. “That is extremely rare, however. It is nearly as rare these days not to survive the completion of one's purpose; I was afraid I'd be one of the unlucky few, until my luck changed.”

“So..are most celestials 'made' for the purpose of hunting down demons?” the dragon-girl said, deciding that it was futile for the moment to convince her of how utterly strange being created a week prior, as a full adult, with instructions she was more or less required to fulfill was.
“Sol's main purview is the prevention and elimination of threats to humanity,” she replied. “As it happens, lesser demons making their way into this plane is among the most common of those threats. So: It would not be unreasonable to guess that a majority of us are created for that purpose, especially since our kind of magic is particularly effective against demons. However, I am not aware of the exact statistics.”
“I..met a demon yesterday, though. Or rather—a guy I knew turned out to have always been one? He seemed nice enough.”
“Ah, that would be a greater demon,” she explained patiently (and even a little cheerfully). “They fall under the broad definition of 'humanity' I intended, because they are people with intelligence and self-will. Lesser demons are more like the animals of the demonic plane—if all animals were highly aggressive predators and most of them had powerful magic at their disposal. They instinctively fear more powerful demons, including all greater demons, so the demonic plane is relatively safe for them. Most other people would not survive without an escort, and one of my kind would probably die even with one. At any rate, lesser demons do not belong here, and can present a danger to many people depending on how powerful they are. On the other hand, many greater demons today have never even seen their 'home plane', and perhaps they are all the better for it.”



“I remembered a lot last night!” The early-morning storm had awoken both of the werewolves from a nap, so they were up early enough to have breakfast with her before she had to go to work. “But uh..a lot of it doesn't seem super important,” Damon continued.
“She remembered mostly stuff from video games. Which...I guess is still a good sign?” Sam said, presently in that adorable female form. “Actually, when she's playing a game it's like she never forgot anything. Like, she plays exactly how she did before, and remembers mechanics, muscle memory, all that kind of stuff no problem.”
“Any progress is progress,” Onida said. “I guess..playing a game well is basically a kind of skill, right? Maybe it's just that you lost mostly 'information' and not so much 'ability'?”
“Mmh. I'd really rather it be the other way around,” the werewolf said a little sadly. “I wanna remember all my friends..and our parents.”
Her sister just nodded solemnly back, and the table was quiet for a minute or two.

“So, I can trust you two to watch the house while I'm gone, right?”
“Yeah. I mean, ah..I'll prolly be asleep for a while, but I'm a pretty light sleeper,” Sam said.
“Me too!” her sister said, without clarifying which part she meant.
“Okay. Well, there's sandwich stuff in the fridge whenever you get hungry for lunch. I should be back around five, hopefully; I'll call—oh, wait. I need your number,” she said toward their guest.
“Huh? Oh, sure.” Sam pulled her phone out and recited it, Onida typing it into her own.
“Got it. So, I'll call if I'm held up or anything. And you call me if there are any problems here. I'll send a text in a minute so you'll have my number too.”



“I see...well, this has been pretty educational,” Zotha said. “But I feel like we've gotten a little off track. First: Are you actually okay with the..appearance you've wound up in? Like I said before, I can put that back like it was—without the injuries.”
“Hmm. I have been thinking on it,” she said. “However, I was only male for a week. Given the opportunity, perhaps I would prefer this appearance, but..I don't yet know. I don't suppose I could postpone a decision on whether to remain this way until later?”
“That's fine. I can give you my number, if you've got a phone? Or..some way to borrow someone else's..actually, how are you gonna..function in society? You don't have any, identification or records or anything,” the goddess realized aloud.
“Ah, well, there is an organization whose job it is to help newly-made celestials with that very issue,” she said. “It was founded by some of our kind who, as I said, wished to continue serving Sol, but a majority of their members are actually of various other kinds. As I understand it, within recent years—by which I mean the past few decades—they also took on the job of helping maintain the veil by helping people who've had it torn off by certain kinds of magical events to adapt.”

“..Oh.” Zotha nodded; Jess had more or less the exact same realization. I guess we've been indirectly dealing with Sol all along, she remarked to the priestess. “In that case, I'm sure they'll help you call me if you want, right?”
“Most likely,” she nodded. “We are..on a college campus at the moment, or near one, correct? I was considering taking on the role of a student initially—it'd be nice to fill in the gaps of my created knowledge, and just to learn things for myself for a bit, I think.”
“It's gonna be a little weird for a new student to drop in near the end of the semester, but I guess they've dealt with this situation before,” Zotha said. “You can't possibly be the first person to want to learn things shortly after being created, after all. I suppose that just leaves the matter of your name, then.”

“Mm-hm...” The winged girl stood up. “I gave it a little thought, but of course I didn't anticipate this situation.” She looked up at Thomas. “Er—kind dragon, do you have any suggestions?”
“Uh, m-me?” The dragon-girl scratched her chin with a finger, trying to figure out whether or not the little celestial's face was actually sparkling. “I'm..not real good at names.” Her face felt a little warm, too...weird. Oh no, she was still staring up at her. “Um..Stella? Because...staaarrs..?”
The short girl put her hands together, grinning brightly. “Oh, it's perfect! I will come up with a surname myself. And, may I inquire yours?”
“Uh, Toma—I mean, Thomas,” she half-mumbled the last bit, nodding. “Oh, your uh, sword's against the wall there by the way,” she added, pointing.
“Oh, thank you. I should probably have dismissed it sooner, but was..rather distracted.” 'Stella' waved her hand gently in the direction of the blade, which seemed to cause it to burst into a blue, heatless flame that then dissipated into the air.



Graham was up characteristically early yet again, and decided to try her hand at making breakfast. To be honest, neither she nor her granddaughter was a particularly great cook, but following basic instructions wasn't beyond either of them. Being so much smaller made it harder to reach the upper cabinets and shelves, and once or twice she had to fight a mild urge to either leap for things or just clamber up onto the counter and make herself go get a chair to stand on instead. But other than that, her body seemed much more agile and coordinated than it ever had been, and in many ways this helped her be a better cook than before. That didn't seem to quite be all, either—she simply picked up on how to do things much quicker, too. Perhaps it was just a matter of having a “younger” brain, too.

Her big white kitty ears could pick up the sound of Rachel getting out of bed and heading for a shower near the beginning of the preparation, and by the time it was done she was stepping out and heading for the kitchen, before audibly yawning in the doorway. “Morning, dear,” the white-haired Neko said. “Storm wake ya up?” On one hand, she wondered how anything was private in a house full of people with such excellent hearing, but on the other it was kind of reassuring to be able to directly perceive that her granddaughter was alive and well and moving around. Anyway, fair was fair—Graham could be heard just as easily.
“Yeah, for a bit. That smells really good.”
“Well, I hope it is good. I tried out somethin' new for us this morning.”

They both sat down to eat, and Graham felt her ears perk up and her tail whip around a bit faster behind her in response to the taller girl's clear enjoyment of her work. After some more time quietly eating, she said, “You know somethin'? I've felt a little bit restless since turning young again.”
“Mmhmm?” Rachel's mouth was full, but she turned her head up from the plate to indicate she was paying attention.
“I might wanna go looking for a job soon. Or just something to do. That wouldn't upset you too much, would it?”
“No, that's great!” she said. “I'm sure you'll find something quick. I mean, you're really smart, and they sure can't turn you away for being too old now.”
“Heheh,” the short Neko giggled. “They'd look pretty silly for that. Nah, at worst I bet I'd be 'overqualified'. That's somethin' they do to folks sometimes, too.”



“Well, I think I know the people you're talking about,” Zotha said. “We were more or less introduced to them as 'veilkeepers' of sorts. I can just teleport you to right in front of their headquarters if you want. Or at least, the office where we met them.”
“Thank you,” the winged girl said, grinning brightly. “I will take you up on your kind offer, Miss Zotha.”
The goddess made a nearby door open out to the target area, deciding that this might be less jarring to the celestial than a direct teleportation. She stopped briefly in the doorway, turning toward the dragon-girl again. “Thank you all once again. I'm certain we'll meet once more soon, Miss Toma.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Hope so.” Thomas gave her an awkward thumbs-up, and she stepped through the threshold. Jess exchanged a wordless, knowing thought with the goddess and got back the concept of agreement alongside an admonition to let it be for now.

“Alright, well..anywhere you wanna be dropped off?” Zotha said, turning to the dragon-girl.
“Hmm..maybe the gym? I got something I might wanna try out,” she said, seeming to recover out of the awkwardness almost as soon as Stella was gone.
“Got it. Just step through the door there.”
“Thanks.” Thomas headed out too.

“..Phew. Now, I think you've waited long enough for breakfast,” Zotha said, waving vaguely toward the kitchen to make some food appear. “Annd, I've got a little more cleanup work to get to—” she was interrupted by the ping of a message on her phone. “Hmm.” Pulling it out, she found something from Prama: A brief explanation along with a photo of what looked to the goddess like a handwritten letter.

Lady Zotha:
I hope you can forgive my capriciousness in choosing a liaison, but my original choice was very short-sighted. She is complicated to speak through, and I don't want to put an undue burden on her while she is still recovering. I think I really will stick with this one for a while, however. Instructions are included below to cast a spell of private writing similar to the one which was used for this letter, since I think you may find that convenient in general. If you want to send a message to me specifically, just use that spell to write a letter and forward it to the alchemist to ensure that I see it. You're also welcome to visit my domain at some point..though my brother believes it would be best to wait until after you've spoken with him.
Anyway, on to the main purpose of this letter. I'd like to formally request your permission to use your power for something. Specifically, I think there's someone who will want my 'blessing' soon, but I want to help that person even more by 'borrowing' your unique ability to give someone the power to shift between two different forms at will. If this works, I think their gratitude will split at least equally to you, if not more, so it should be to your benefit. Just pass along a 'yes' or 'no' to the alchemist to reply regarding this request, if you don't mind.
Below that was an ornate, extremely curly signature:
-La Lune

“...Well then.” Jess was leaning over to try and read it, and couldn't—confirming the claim that the writing was magic, as well as indicating that it stayed that way even through the filter of being photographed and sent in a text. Zotha just pushed a brief summary of its contents into her priestess's mind.
“Oh. You think you should let her do that?”
“Well, she only wants to do it once. I'm more interested to learn that granting someone the power to go back and forth is 'unique' to me, though. It sort of makes sense that that wouldn't be standard with what I know of magic now, so I guess we just kinda 'thought it up' while what I am was still forming and it stuck. Anyway, I have a hunch about who it's for—if it is someone we know of in the first place.”

After that Zotha gently prodded Jess's side in the direction she'd need to go to get around the bed and head to the kitchen. “Hey. Go, eat, no more distractions. Anika's been 'you' for half an hour by now, and I'm gonna go get to work, too.”
“Okay, Master.”

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