• Solo • Transmogrification IV

[Llyr Llywelyn]

49 Ashan 719

It’d been a trial since Zarik last practiced his domain of Transmogrification, or Becoming, but he couldn’t rest. He had to keep pushing himself, not only for the thrill of his first spark - which demanded him to keep extending himself beyond his boundaries of comfort - but for the sake of his husband and the promise of their family. His husband had already waited for several trials, how could he feasibly make him wait any more than that?

So Zarik held onto his satchel which housed his book, his journal, and a couple scratch-pens to write down his findings. Lucretia was busy with her spark’s compulsion to draft a treatise on theory so she couldn’t observe him totrial.

He climbed up to a rooftop, and the Revenant followed at his heels like usual, never letting him have a moment’s peace outside of the estate. Zarik found a nice flat surface area anyway. It was private, and hopefully, no one would be able to see him up here… as he wouldn’t be dressed for much longer.

Zarik knew exactly what he wanted to do… or try… even though he wasn’t sure about whether he’d actually be able to see it through. He set the journal on the ground of the stone roof, flipped it open, and held a finger at the page: Devour.

Briefly, he wondered if he’d be able to Devour Devin… but he didn’t want to try. So he looked around to what he had considered. Here on the rooftop, he could find rats or mice or… he watched as a raven landed on the parapet: birds.

The biqaj slowly shut his journal. He lowered his body and crouched forward, slowly… slowly… he just need a portion of the wing or… Zarik noticed the wings spread and he reached forward…

…but it was too late. The bird took flight. He watched as it drifted away. Zarik sighed. He didn’t know if he’d be able to bite into such a creature anyway, or at all. It seemed kind of gross and unsettling. What about disease? Wouldn’t he get sick from chewing on blood and bone and feathers?

He couldn’t do it.

Zarik couldn’t eat, or harm, another living creature just so he could transform into them.

The young mage returned to his journal. He opened it and flipped through the pages. He would practice something else… and he spoke to himself - or to the Revenant who didn’t pay much attention - “Perhaps I should practice something more relevant, anyway.”

A mutter sounded from the thrall, something pointless and about a life long gone for the undead man. Zarik ignored it. He’d gotten very good at ignoring such mutters and comments.

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Finally, he decided on what he would practice for the day. He held up the journal, stood on the rooftop, and cleared his throat. Echo, but what of his sisters’ qualities could he echo? His ether caressed over the totem rings, as if to ask them the same question.

After a short while, he received an answer. He knew one particular thing that his sister was capable of that he could echo in such a way that it would be obvious whether he failed or succeeded. In his self-totem still, his own form, his born figure, he went to the center of the flat stone rooftop.

Zarik’s ether connected in a strong link with the Kiara totem.

Though it hardly felt like anything, the internal skin of his throat folded over and his lungs shifted, and then he took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he sang. A lilting, melodic note of a female’s voice - his sister’s voice, Kiara’s voice.

For a moment, he was surprised. He shut his mouth, lips tight against one another, then he opened it again and sang once more. The notes escalated, then lowered, and indeed - it was his sister’s voice that sounded from him. Zarik smiled slightly. She truly did have a beautiful voice, especially for the art of singing.

The biqaj didn’t know many songs. He’d never been the sort for artistry of that kind. In retrospect, he supposed he avoided it for specific purpose to avoid the sort of men his father hated… so to never find out if he actually belonged with those types. He had watched bards play though, from dark corners and far off spots, lingering and then moving on with his tasks as quick as he could. Zarik never truly allowed himself to be drawn in to such things. He’d resisted such draws again and again. But he didn’t have to anymore.

He glanced at Devin, smiled, then held a hand to his chest and began to sing one of the very few songs he knew. It was a shanty song that his father actually had taught him. It wasn’t meant to be romantic, but as he used Kiara’s voice to hit the notes and smooth the rhythm, he found a way to make it so anyway. He sang about the sails being lifted to gather the wind, and about U’frek’s blessings upon the waves around them, and to keep with the tide in heart and to weather the storms of life.

Zarik sang and as he sang, he felt an uplifting sensation. He ran over to the rooftop edge, looked across, finished his song and then he leapt to the next roof. He rolled in the landing, then leaped to his feet, and started to sing a new song. What a freeing experience, he felt, as his throat allowed itself to open up and he allowed his Echoed voice to sound over the sector of the Gleam in Quacia. He didn’t care if he was heard, whether in favor or repulsion. All he cared about was the enjoyment in his heart.

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Well, Zarik wasn’t certain if being able to Echo his sister’s singing voice was relevant or not to the aims of why he’d taken on the Becomer spark into his soul, it certainly was more so than Devouring some bird or rat. He had caused his throat to go dry, however, and he didn’t have any water with him to parch his thirst. Zarik sat on the edge of a roof, his legs hanging over and heels kicking against the brick wall. He flipped through his journal, and read through his notes, scribbling additions to certain parts.

Echo seemed to work perfectly well. It had been odd at first, but he had fallen into it easily enough. Preferable to having to chew on feathers or bones. He grimaced at the thought. If he never had a single animal totem, he would be content with that. He never wished to Become for any reason other than to fulfill his husband’s desires. As such, he had little use or interest to take on unnatural forms like birds or mice or dogs or whatever.

Regardless, he read about such things anyway. The books he had gathered, and the ones that Lucretia had found him, had immense detail into the different sorts of Transmogrification. He knew where he intended to be, after his discussion the other night, and blending simply wasn’t stable enough to accomplish it. Devour was pointless, as well. Echo was simply a lark of a thing that he was able to test out to learn more about his relation with the totems that he wore on his fingers as rings.

Zarik heard a voice below, then, calling up to him.

“Zarik? Is that you I heard singing?” asked Watcher, his contact from Shanty.

He looked down at the Heap and grinned. He replied, “Maybe.”

Watcher jumped onto a nearby crate, scrambled up the stack of them, then climbed the rest of the way to join the biqaj on the roof. He sat beside him on the edge and looked out at Quacia. “I never knew you had such a… singing voice.”

The blond laughed and rolled his eyes. He almost nudged the other man, if not for the reason that he didn’t want to act too close to the man who essentially worked for him. Instead, he crossed his arms and looked up at the sky. He said, “I didn’t until recently.”

“More magic then?” asked Watcher. He hawked and spat down at the ground.

“Yes,” admitted Zarik. The bridge of his slender nose wrinkled at the sight of the viscous spit.

“Why’re you taking on all this magic anyway? You don’t mind my asking, that is. It’s just y’never seemed the type to me. I always thought…” he trailed off and scratched at his mop of earthy-colored curls.

“Thought what?”

“I don’t know, you seemed more of a… a… well not a damn mage. Why you doing this to yourself? I mean look at ya, y’ got bug wings.”

Zarik’s muscles tensed and his posture stiffened. His expression darkened momentarily. He looked at Watcher, a man he’d known for the past three arcs, and his glare must’ve been enough because the other man raised his hands in a surrender gesture.

“A-ayy now, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s nothing I worry about, nope, not me. You seem fine as a mage, yes. What do I know anyway? I’m just an ear on the street.”

“Yes,” said Zarik. He stood and stepped down from the ledge onto the flat rooftop. The young magister intended to return home now, a sense of offense and, something he wished to avoid acknowledging, brewed inside of him. He said in farewell, “You are just an ear on the street. Go listen to something worthwhile, shall you?”

[Alistair]

ZARIK

Knowledges
Becoming: Echo
Becoming: Echoing a human’s ability to sing.
Becoming: I'd rather not use devour.
Meditation: Singing to keep one's mind clear
Singing: Shifting tone and pitch
Singing: Sea Shanties

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: N/A

Points 10 - These points may be utilized for Becoming.

Comments: Interesting idea using Becoming to sing. I liked your interactions as well - shows Zarik's previous life a bit more which was enlightening. Good stuff!

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