Chapter 2: The Monkey Paw

As I stared out from the library’s balcony I felt a brisk wind upon my face, bringing with it the scents and sounds of late summer and ruffling the pages of my book. 

 

It was colder than it had been the year before, just as that year had been. That seemed to be the one constant in my life, an endless torpor that only grew more settled with every passing Starday.

 

I looked out over the crowded avenue, not really expecting to see much more than usual. It was a slow day in a slow week, but that was fine with me. There wasn’t much to do nowadays, so I spent the days waiting for my brother Corto’s letter of return which was assuredly going to arrive any day now. It had to, he’d promised.

 

Out on the avenue a curious figure caught my eye, one with a thin sword hanging upon his hip. His long blonde bangs flew over his eyes in the breeze, causing him to swat them back repeatedly in irritation. Glancing between my book and the figure, I set the book aside in favour of people watching, finding that the book had not quite caught my passions as well as I would’ve hoped.

 

He appeared to be roughly the same age as I, and I briefly entertained various phrases to call out, only to discard them in favour of my internal fantasies. He walked briskly in any case, with a clear goal behind his gaze as he searched for something. 

 

My imagination went wild as I watched him push through the crowd, thinking up dozens of different plots and purposes for his actions. Could he be searching for a killer? Looking for a stolen jewel? Perhaps he needed rare medicine to save his grandmother? Maybe it was something closer to the heart, like a hurried search for his scorned lover; who would assuredly be holding her own forlorn passions at the precipice of Verol’s highest plaza, maybe even under the shade of a flowering white pine.

 

The boy continued through the crowd, seeming to grow more frantic with time. Every once and a while he would stop and clamber on top of a nearby box to scan the horizon only to disembark upon the shout of a nearby merchant. He walked between stalls peddling pastries and meats, curiosities and contraptions, as well as sellers I had seen my servant Marcolo walk past many times before. Given the collection of smells and sounds that wafted up to my high perch, I could only imagine the assault his senses must’ve been filtering out from down there. 

 

The next time he mounted a box, however, I saw his gaze turn towards me to meet my eyes. For a moment I froze, like a cave thrall in the miner’s light, stuck in place by the twin orbs hanging half a plaza away. Two red fires burned in those eyes, and after a moment I fell out of my chair and hid under the railing in fright. When I peeked over again the boy had moved on, and I had to wonder if he had really seen me at all.

 

“Saphry!” Marcolo cried from the hall. “Saphry, come on down!”

 

I kept my eyes on the boy as he jumped off the box again, bandying quick words with the merchant behind. He seemed animated, and quickly I saw the merchant’s ire wither to be replaced with mirth and a laughter which cut through the cacophony of mercantilism to reach my ears.

 

“Offer me a moment!” I called back towards the door. “I’ll be down in but a shortbell!”

 

The merchant gestured down the road, pointing out something to the boy further down the road which I couldn’t see due to the buildings, and the boy hurried along, knowledge fueling a new pace.

 

“You can pick up the page later, my lady!” cried Marcolo, his voice muffled through the door. “Dinner will cool faster than the ink!”

 

“A moment!” I called back.

 

I didn’t turn away, hoping with a strange fixation that he’d find his quarry soon. By now I was sure it had to be a person, and perhaps even a lover. Could anything be as captivating as love? Surely I couldn’t count anything beyond it, not if even the dull passions that made it through the words of fiction could stir my heart as they did.

 

The boy stopped next to a fountain in the middle of the street and called out further down.

 

“Breale!”

 

His voice immediately tugged at me as he called for another, its muted timbre racing above the undercurrent of street noise. It held an exasperation about it, and soon it was answered by another.

 

“Brother!” 

 

To my disappointment, the person that appeared, sprinting, from the crowd was all too obviously a sibling. A twin even, judging from the similar height and build. She even had shorter hair in the same style as his own, and the only way I could tell them apart from afar was the girl’s skirt. 

 

“Saphry! Don’t make me come up there!”

 

As the girl tackled her brother into the fountain, I simply sighed and turned away. I should’ve known it to be something more mundane. Life wasn’t often like the fantastical stories of fiction, and when it was it did not follow the joyous tales. 

 

“I’m coming Marcolo!”

 

The world faded and shattered as I walked towards the door, until the library had dissolved to black.

 

 

 

I jerked up in the bed, panting, and looked at my hands.

 

My name was Ryder Fletcher, and I was a college student researching mathematics in Chicago. I was an only child and...

 

I nodded as it all came back to me, and my breathing slowed. The dreams had felt so real, as I really was another person peering back through, and that had terrified me. The thought of forgetting my family and friends back on Earth was something I never wanted to see come to fruition.

 

Beside me on my fluffiest pillow lay the drake as he shook in the throes of a nightmare, and I jumped up to shake him awake. After a minute he seemed to stir, looking at me with the same frightened terror I’d probably gone through.

 

Gideon. Earth. Why…

 

“It’s fine Gideon!” I said. “The same happened to me.”

 

He finally calmed after a time and took to pacing on the comforter, his mind already moving past the ordeal.

 

For the night, I was Silst. He thought to me. I thought as him, living through his experiences.

 

“Silst?” I asked, though I guessed at the answer.

 

My...the dragon’s name. Gideon thought. Or at least the one you used.

 

“Then I did the same, as Saphry.” I shuddered, remembering the scene. “It didn’t feel so foreign at the time though. The thoughts had come so naturally...”

 

Indeed. His scales sparkled in the morning light coming through the window as he paced into and out of the light beams. It was frightening to say the least. I must’ve lived half a day in the visions.

 

“Half a day?” I cried. “The hell did you see?”

 

I only remembered the one scene, though the vestiges of various scraps of knowledge seemed to tug at the corners of my mind. 

 

Several different things, though the transition between them almost went unnoticed. Gideon stopped to stare out the window, where an admittedly normal sun had risen. Meetings with a great dwarven king, soaring between mountains, a lesson from a now dead master.

 

“You saw all of that?” I raised an eyebrow. “All that talking must’ve sucked for a shut in like you.”

 

And all I’d gotten was one lousy image out of a window? 

 

If I were the same as I were now, I might’ve baulked. Gideon admitted. But it was almost as if I were living in a movie…

 

“Well, you’re gonna have to share some of that juicy knowledge with me then, because I got one big spoonful of nothing last night.” I frowned. “I only got one memory too, if we assume that’s what it was.”

 

Only one? Gideon stopped just outside the reach of the light beam and sat down. But surely you gained more than that.

 

“Wouldn’t count on it.” I sighed. “I know the servant’s name, though it might be a little hard to talk to him, given that I doubt he speaks english.”

 

Gideon stared at me strangely, his head tilted.

 

“What?”

 

You’re speaking Veroline right now, Ryder.

 

I opened my mouth to refute that, only to realise that I wasn’t just speaking it, but thinking in the language as well. Knowledge of the words and how they translated flew through my mind when I focused. Blinking in surprise, I tried to call up more esoteric words to mind.

 

“Esoteric, Thaumaturgy, Grimoire, Transmigration…” I muttered in Veroline, finding a suitable way to say each. “[Christ].”

 

That last one sounded strange. 

 

“Gideon, how many languages do you know?” I looked up from my hands in awe. 

 

I’d never imagined I’d be bilingual, nor that I’d need more than English and a bit of Latin for casting. But now, even forcing myself to think back in English took some effort. Veroline didn’t even have the same sentence structure as English, yet thinking in it was as natural as breathing to me.

 

Before? Only one. Now? Gideon preened, flexing his wings out to their full span. Five, including English.

 

“Five…”

 

You are reading story Lmenli at novel35.com

Veroline, Lmeri, Paiz Dwarven and Northspine draconic. A few of their dialects as well.

 

“I don’t even know what places those belong too…” I began shaking my head in disappointment before suddenly jerking back towards the drake. “Wait, dwarven?”

 

Yes. His eyes sparkled with glee. Draconic too.

 

“Bah, there were dragons on Earth.” I waved away. Old news really, and not surprising too given that an actual dragon was sitting in front of me as well. “Dwarves, though? That’s new. Did your memory dump gift you any other knowledge about this place? The most I got is that the city’s called Verol. Or maybe that’s the country.”

 

It’s both. Gideon tried to cross his front legs, setting them back down when he realised he couldn’t. I know it’s feudal, though the technology scale seems a little wack to me. That last memory too, the lesson I mentioned, was of geography, so I know the surrounding lands, in name at least.

 

What? He got an actual, honest to god geography lesson and I got a damn window? Why did his memories get to be so absurdly useful?

 

It’s mountainous, to say the least, and the frontiers close at hand. What did you get out of it?

 

I crossed my arms and huffed. “My name’s Saphry. That’s pretty much it.”

 

Really?

 

“Really.”

 

We stared at each other for a few seconds before Gideon burst out into laughter, his body hacking in a way that I would’ve thought meant he was choking if it wasn’t for the mental link.

 

“It’s not funny!” I protested.

 

As reliable here as you were on Earth! Ha!

 

“It’s not my fault my host sucks!” I complained. “Why’d you have to get the better memories anyway?”

 

I just hope you’re better at improv than you were at heroism. Because it sounds like you’re gonna need it.

 

I aimed a swipe at him, but he flew backwards before I could connect. Narrowing my eyes, I was just preparing another lunge when the door suddenly opened and a figure peaked his head in.

 

He looked eternally tired, with deep bags under his blue eyes and streaks of gray in his otherwise brown hair, though he didn’t appear much older than thirty otherwise. He held a small candle which illuminated a brown jacket over a white shirt.

 

Marcolo. The name popped into my head immediately.

 

“Good. You’re already awake.” His voice was deep. “The priest will be expecting us ere long.”

 

As I floundered for what to say, my mind latched onto the first thing I heard.

 

“Priest?” I said, trying to sound groggy.

 

“The ritual.” He said unhelpfully before closing the door. “Don’t make me come back with a pail.”

 

As he walked away I muttered a few English curses directed towards Saphry. 

 

I had absolutely no idea what Marcolo was on about, and didn’t know a way to ask without being suspicious. What kind of ritual was this?

 

I glanced at the drake, who shrugged. Or tried to shrug at least.

 

“I swear to God, if I took over the night before she got sacrificed...” I sighed. “Do you think you could work on the potion by yourself?”

 

The potion, of course, was the primary way we had of getting back to Earth. Assuming we could find the resources, we should be able to replicate it and just chug it back home, but I wasn’t sure how long it would take to do so. And while I’d obviously rather him stay around me, I also didn’t want to have to stay off Earth for too long. Who knows how the flow of time worked between them after all. For all we knew our parents could be looking for us as we spoke. Or the Spellswords could be watching our unconscious bodies in a hospital room.

 

I shuddered. Better not to think about it too much.

 

The first problem is equipment, which I can’t purchase. Gideon looked towards the door. Thankfully, I have the sneaking suspicion that ‘Saphry’ might be of nobility, so perhaps we can co-opt an allowance for such ends. 

 

“Being rich would be an acceptable trade off for being turned into a girl, I agree.”

 

I would just go look for resources too… Gideon continued. ...but despite the memories I’m not too sure how dragons are regarded in Verol. I think I should stick with you for at least today.

 

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? The antisocial alchemist actually wants to, dare I say it, leave the house?”

 

That right there is one of the reasons I never tell you when I leave. He flew over to the window sill to gaze outside. But for now, I think exploring might prove a little more enlightening than alchemy.

 

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel pretty adventurous myself, but I was also more than a little apprehensive about walking into the world as Saphry. It felt a little like being asked to take a test over a chapter you’d hadn’t read.

 

I sighed.

 

“True enough.” I jumped up from the bed and stretched. “I’m assuming the plan is to blend in as much as we can then? Attend the dances and the tea parties and whatever else noble girls do?”

 

Would be a shame to ruin Saphry’s life if she comes back after we leave. Gideon agreed. Though the very situation is kind of horrific now that I think about it.

 

“I’m… going to try not to think about that.” I said. “I’ll try to do as little damage to her life as possible then.”

 

The thought of some other-dimensional being suddenly possessing my body and co-opting my memories seemed like a topic straight out of a horror novel, and I’d certainly never expected to be that being. Normally for this kind of trope the original was killed before the body was possessed, but there was no evidence of that happening here. Which meant that I had to wonder if Saphry’s consciousness was lying underneath, watching with horror as she lost control…

 

I slapped my hands onto my cheeks.

 

Change what we could, don’t dwell on what we couldn’t! That would have to be my motto until we got back. And the first step of that would be getting ready for the day.

 

I pointed my hand at the wardrobe as I walked in front of the mirror, summoning the magic for a spell.

 

“Aperi.” 

 

I jumped into the chair and gazed into the mirror at my long hair in the window light. Pulling up a bunch of the stuff to my head and grabbing a brush from the desk, I suddenly froze as I stared into my face in the mirror.

 

I had no idea how to style hair so long.

 

The determination dropped from my face as I thought about hair back on Earth, and then began to despair as I called up images of my friends in college.

 

Didn’t they just… push it to the side? Or put it in a ponytail? That wouldn’t cut it for a noble, would it? I certainly wouldn’t be able to emulate some half made memoires of celebrity hairstyles either.

 

Maybe I should do the outfit first, and save the hair for last.

 

I looked back towards the wardrobe and did a double take. The door was still shut fast upon it.

 

Huh, that was weird. I had even been a little unnecessary with the casting flair this time. Had I cast it wrong?

 

“Aperi” I commanded, trying and failing to imagine the mana circuiting.

 

A chill went down my spine. 

 

Spells had worked on earth by inserting certain amounts of different types of mana into a mental construct. For a spell such as ‘Open’ one simply needed to split off a small amount of energy from the body and put it into a straightforward spell template, but now I couldn’t even call up the template in my mind.

 

In other words, my magic was gone.

 

The next word out of my mouth was one of the few ones I could think of that didn’t have a Veroline translation.

 

“[Fuck].”

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