“Easy, with every kill, you have the power to shift into anything you want.”
Thessa gazed into the mirror, “I want to be a beautiful woman, not a girl, a woman, and I want the look to stay with me. The kind every man would desire.” She watched in the mirror as her features changed. Her sunken face filled out and her skin became milky smooth. Light streaks accented her dark hair. She turned to get Sarren’s appraisal. “Well, what do you think?”
“Beautiful,” Sarren replied with a devilish grin, “You are absolutely gorgeous. You have taken your first step. I will warn you. You will be noticed now. Men, and some women, will react differently to you now that you are a beautiful woman.”
Thessa willed for Sarren to float to her, and the ghost moved involuntarily.
“What are you doing? Let me go!” Sarren pleaded.
Thessa reached out and took Sarren by the throat. Her hand made purchase on Sarren’s ethereal skin, if that was even an accurate description. “I bind you to me, Sarren. You will never be able to enter my mind and body again. I control you.” Thessa’s new-found magic surged through her into Sarren. “Now, return to being my cat.”
“No, I don’t want to be a… cat.” Sarren was suddenly the black and white cat again.
Forget the dark magic, you are just as cruel without it! Sarren’s voice was once again sounding inside Thessa’s mind.
Chapter 9: A Tale of Winter’s Chill
Evening approached as Ephaltus relaxed in his favorite chair within the Earth Chamber. The dryads were busy with meal preparations and cleaning while Marlee tended to the cozy fire in the fireplace. He was about to get his pipe out when there was a sharp tapping on the door.
Ephaltus raised up, “Who in the world would knock on a tree? Is the door not under an illusion?” He went to the door of the Earth Chamber and unbolted the carved door. It swung open to reveal a young man with a parchment.
“Oh, yes, did you find the scroll I sent you for.” Ephaltus asked happily.
“Yes sir,” the boy replied. “It was difficult to smuggle out of the libr…”
“Ah hem, I’ll take that.” Ephaltus said before the boy could continue his explanation. “Wait here and I will get you what I promised.” He returned with a few pieces of silver. “Here is your payment.”
The boy checked the silver, “Very generous, sir. Please consider me your man for whatever you need.”
“I’ll do that.” Ephaltus said. The boy smiled and tossed one of the silver pieces up into the air and caught it happily as he turned.
“What is on the parchment?” Marlee asked.
Ephaltus looked up, “Hmm? What were you asking?”
“I asked what you have there.”
“Oh, this is a parchment about the distant history of our realm. It’s very rare and delicate.”
“History? About the tournament?”
“No, it’s my retirement project if you must know. I am looking deep into the history of the realm. When you are Tourney Master, I plan to spend my remaining days looking onto the past. I may even write a few scrolls of parchment about it myself.”
“What a wonderful idea.” Marlee said. “I’ll look forward to reading them.”
“Um, yes, well, I have a room in the Arsenal of the Way I’m using to store safely my work. I think I will go and find a place for this if you will be satisfied with your work here?”
“Certainly, go on. I don’t need you hovering over me while I study the book of rules you gave me.”
“It’s not a book of rules.” Ephaltus corrected.
“It talks a lot about decorum. Seems very much like rules to me.”
“It’s advice. What to look for and how to keep the mages and their gods on the straight and narrow.”
“Yes, rules.”
Ephaltus huffed, “I will be in the Arsenal should you need me.”
“Mm hm,” Marlee answered.
Ephaltus left the Earth Chamber and made his way to the Arsenal of the Way, all the while huffing and puffing at how troubling Marlee could be when she insisted on going against him. He went to the back wall of the arsenal and looked around nervously. When he was satisfied no one had followed him and that there were no prying eyes or Ocularius lens focused on him, he held out his hand and focused his fingers in a horn pattern with the two middle fingers of his right hand lowered toward his palm while the outer two fingers pointed strait up.
“Elesence Eliptus.” He said. The weapons rack before him faded into a portal about the size of a door one might use with a closet. Not too wide or tall as to give room for larger creatures to pass. He entered the room beyond and the portal closed. The room was vast and filled with treasures. To his left another row of books went as far as one could see in the dim torchlight. To his left shelves with dusty trinkets lined the walls until they too disappeared into the darkness. Hanging from the ceiling were nets filled with other, larger lightweight treasures such as wooden crates with more papers and materials. He took one of the torches and lit it from one of the sconces and proceeded down the dusty thoroughfare. After a short time he came to a great wooden desk covered in parchment and trinkets. He held his hand up again and spoke a few more cryptic words. The dust swirled from the desk and crackled into nothingness in heatless sparkles.
“Who goes there?” An ominous voice boomed from somewhere deeper inside.
“It is I, Shelayla. No need to be concerned.” Ephaltus said. “No need to get up on my account.”
“You have not been in here for quite some time, wizard. How do I know you are who you say you are?”
“Don’t be daft.”
“Ah, That’s it. Welcome, Ephaltus.” A
