Snippet #1727234

It was the dawning of the day, and Sir Imrie woke in a foul temper. His legs were stiff with arthritis. He felt like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep for a year. And it was true, he hadn't.

Sleeping was the worst part. He could not find a comfortable position to lay, and so he had his rest by leaning against a wall. The knights' barracks, where he lived, had become much more stable like. He thought that sleeping on scratchy straw beds had been bad enough, but now the floor was covered in straw. Flies landed on his rump frequently. He had to use his tail to swat them away. The usage of this new appendage was quite unsettling. Eerie. He could not look at himself… he was a monster.

His hair untidy, and wearing a loose tunic over his torso, he left his stall. There were two-legged boys scurrying around. Imrie never thought he would look at them in such jealousy. As he walked down the main aisle, he saw the stable boys using curry combs on the rumps of knights. The smith was there and he was hammering new shoes on knights. This sight filled him with disgust. That morning, he refused to be groomed or shoed. He would go with a matted coat again. But he would not subject himself to such humiliation.

He stepped out of the barracks and saw a world transformed, and still transforming. Buildings were enlarged to accommodate a new population of greater height and greater mass. A short distance away, there was the King's castle, in the royal city of Esperlin. It was expanded. All doorways were made taller and wider. Stained glass windows were replaced with taller, grander windows. Furniture was remade and designed for new uses. All manner of artwork was changed by order of the king. Works of art must glorify the centaur, not the two-legged man.

"The king has given up. He is accepting his new form. He doesn't even want to be reminded that he used to be human," Imrie spoke aloud, the beginnings of a disgruntled speech.

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Nephelle so enjoyed soaring over the ocean. She stretched her forearms before her. They were covered in thick, wholly red fur. Her head, with its eagle beak, made loud shrieks. How she loved the great mass she had when she was in this beastly form. All other animals cowered from her, all humans cowered from her. She was completely alone and unhindered.

She devoured fish and squid as she made her flight over the sea. She was crossing from Iverna to Centaurlot. It was the one-year anniversary since she had cast her spell over the cruel continent. Now she wanted to see what had come of it.

As she neared land, she encountered a ship, with a billowing striped sail. The men aboard shouted and pointed when they saw her on the horizon. She shrieked at them and swooped dangerously near. Whenever she was in her griffin form, she was overcome with impulses to terrorize humans. She reached out her talon and snatched a one of their crew. There were a few arrows that someone launched at her, but she flew fast enough to escape them. She left with this one human, who was making a fuss. It reminded her of a fly, which would buzz tirelessly when it was trapped. Fortunately, this human stopped his raucous after a time.

Nephelle reached the coast of Northwestern Essyer. This coast was rocky, but romantic. Nephelle liked it. Still clutching her human hostage, she landed on the beach. She opened her talon and let the sailor tumble out of it. He seemed stunned. She also saw that she had given him a nasty cut on his arm. This brought forth some of her sympathy. Mostly she did her terrorizing to scare humans, she did not truly want to hurt them.

She flew off a ways and began to shrink. She shrunk and morphed until she was that of her human self. This left her with no clothes, so she grabbed a piece of seaweed and used her magic to turn it into a gown. It looked native to this place, one that flowed and kept the color of the brown-green seaweed. It was striking against her cloud of red hair, which billowed like flame in the wind.

She ran to the sailor, who was just beginning to get up and was looking around warily.

"Oh, you poor dear. Your arm is a bloody mess," she assumed the role of her caring human self. The sailor was in a daze as she proceeded to bandage his arm with her seaweed dress.