Myra’s Tale
This is a spin-off of a previous story, Scarlet & Gold, a.k.a. Cylian. I am sure you can read it independently, but reading the first might help a bit with the nuances.
* * *
Myra's Tale
Snow began drifting against the massive Ponderosa trees and fir trees around Myra's scant shelter. The ill prepared Cyranian servant had managed to start small fire, which struggled against the harsh wind. The fair haired girl with green eyes shivered under the boughs of a distorted fir tree. She had never known anything colder than a cool winter's night. Myra had never seen snow and this fierce night proved terrifying.
Dinner consisted of smoked beef warmed by the fire, usually not very satisfying, but tonight it was delicious. Confusion had filled her mind, she knew nothing of her surroundings and there were dangerous enemies of all kinds about, for an ordinary kitchen servant this was far too much. She had grown up in Cyranian manors and villas, Myra knew nothing of mountain survival.
With a crash limbs from her shelter were torn open revealing a menacing figure peering in. No characteristics could be seen in the poor light, clinging to a tiny paring knife stolen from a supply wagon she skittered away.
"Myra! Oh thank Cyrano! Look, Myra! It's only me, Daiva!" Myra stopped and squinted.
"Oh Daiva, it is you! It is you!" She dropped the knife and jumped into his arms.
"Oh, ho, it's good to see another human being!" The young soldier said, squeezing her tight. "And a warm fire." They separated and he huddled close to the fire.
"Where have you been, Daiva? I thought that I... that I..."
"Was the only one to survive? Yes, I thought so too. After the Kodoch attack I managed to limp into a cave on the other side of the canyon. I stayed there a day or two, can't tell time worth a damn in this weather. It was a piss poor excuse for a shelter anyway. How did you start a fire? I tried for hours with flint and steel and got nothing."
Myra sighed, the question brought back horrid memories of the previous day or was it the day before that?
"I found a piece of one of those burning logs the Roaches rolled on us." She said, using the derogatory term for Kodoches. "I managed to keep it smoldering until I stumbled here, and all these pine needles lit right up."
"You did good, Myra, better than I. Did you happen to see anyone else? Anyone?" he asked. Myra only looked down and shook her head; she had lost many friends in that attack.
"Damn," he swore then sighed. "We both lost friends in this. I guess its bit easier for me, just part of the job. You, well, you're just a servant, and most excitement you expect is manor gossip."
Myra smiled, glad he understood. "Do you have any idea what happened to the Governor and his daughter?" Suddenly Daiva's face went dark and he vigorously shook his head.
"No, no, I didn't, didn't see anything." He said firmly, "Don't ask again." Myra was a bit surprised by his answer, but decided that it was better left alone.
"Oh what are we going to do, Daiva?! I'm so scared."
His face lightened somewhat, obviously he was glad to be off the prior subject. "Walk out I suppose, the question is, which way?" he rubbed the stubble on his chin in thought. Myra snuggled closer to him, his body heat comforting. "I don't care," She said, "I just want to get away from this awful place." He nodded his agreement, and then looked around their shelter, assessing the supplies.
"How much food do you have, Myra?" Daiva asked.
"About a pound of dried beef and a small jug of ale I found."
"Ale?! You have ale? Come on break it out then! It might make this somewhat tolerable." She dug out the jug from behind the tree and shoved it into his eager hands.
"You can have it. It tastes horrible." He popped the cork and took a long swig.
"Oh ho, it tastes just as it should, dear Myra." He took another long swig. "Good stuff, it is. Now, in the morning this weather will have cleared up, I'm sure. Then we'll head northeast, right to Tyrania and report this whole mess to the Viceroy himself."
"Tyrania! But Daiva, the Kodoches!"
"Oh they left, hauled off Lady Lucideous with 'um." It was clear that the ale was loosening his tongue. "They'll be no trouble. Besides, Tyrania is closer than Gandoria." He took a big gulp.
"Oh. Well, I didn't know that." She looked at the jug, trying to determine how much booze was left. Daiva wasn't near as pleasant to be around when he was drunk, and he was well on his way.
"See now, I've got some provisions in me pack, an' with your beef an' all we should be fine. An' we'll pick over the remains at the battlefield, got to be something there." Myra shuddered, that sounded like a ghastly idea.
"Now then, I have an idea of how we can stay warm an' pass the time." Myra knew what he had in mind of course, but why not? They had done it before, just for fun, back at the Governor's Palace. And it would keep them warm.
"Alright Daiva, let's hear this idea."
* * *
Daiva's prediction proved correct the next morning. The pair woke to a cold but still day, with a bright sun shining on two feet of snow.
"Ugh, by gods, my head hurts." Daiva whimpered as he rose. Myra had woken an hour earlier, but knew better than to wake him. His red eyes almost seemed to creak open.
"Oh, Cyrano's balls I've got to go." He rose and made for the exit.
"Come on, Daiva, let's have breakfast." She called after him.
"No! I mean I have to go!" he burst through the boughs. Myra only giggled as she placed more beef near the fire. After a few moments he returned, not looking much better.
"I'm not touching another flagon of ale. Ever!" he groaned again grasping his head.
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Here." She gave him a large chunk of beef.
"Ah, that's the stuff." He said tearing into it.
They ate in silence, both too hungry to worry over conversation. Myra's beef and Daiva's hard biscuits proved to be a decent meal and the pair left, marching through the thick snow to the sight of the battle, with Myra in protest.
"We should leave the dead be, Daiva." She said as they neared the area.
"Why? They're not going to use those supplies, not anymore, we need it more than they do. It may as well not go to waste. Wow, the Lady left every thing in the carriage. Ever worn silk, Myra?"
"Silk?" her eyes widened at the idea. The pair was soon very warm as they dug through the snow for valuables. Myra was wearing four silk dresses for warmth, while Daiva found several woolen shirts and trousers from his fallen comrades. Food was scarce however.
"Looks like the Roaches found most of it." Daiva explained. "Odd though, it's all they took."
"They wouldn't know what to do with silk if they found it. They wear those awful animal hides." Myra said as she dug through the charred remains of the food wagon, hoping that something survived. Fed up with the pointless search she rose and glanced around then screamed in surprise.
"Daiva! Help!"
"What is it?!" he came running to her side, his short sword drawn. Then he saw the man whom she had screamed about.
"Who goes there? State your purpose!" He demanded. The figure continued to walk towards them with no answer.
"Who goes there?" Daiva yelled again.
"Shut up, Daiva." The figure said. "It's only me you pompous jackass."
"Warren? Is that you?"
"Of course it is you moron." He came closer to where Myra could make out his feature he was blond like most Cyranians, his boyish face rather effeminate. Both she and Daiva strode to him where he hugged Daiva.
"Oh by gods, I thought everyone dead, Daiva, and who's this? Another survivor?"
"Yes," Myra answered. "My name is Myra."
"Oh thank goodness they didn't get us all. I fell as they came round, knocked my head real good. I guess they took my weapons and food. I thought I was done for." He explained his voice raising as he spoke, his excitement uncontained.
Daiva looked at him suspiciously. "We all did," He said, "and we will be if we don't start moving."
"Alright, ah, where are we going?" Warren asked.
"That way," Daiva pointed to the northeast, "to Tyrania. It's the closest, and the Viceroy has imperial legions at his disposal. We'll clean out those bastards yet."
Warren and Myra wanted to stay on the main road but Daiva insisted that they push through on the right side of the roadway in the trees, saying that the road would be watched by Kodoches. Since the road was covered with snow any way they agreed.
The going was tough and the group became exhausted. They pushed on; heartened by the fact the snow became shallower the lower they went. Finally, near dark, the snow lessened to small patches here and there. When they made camp, there was no snow to be seen.
"Alright," Daiva said, taking on a confident tone, "after a bit to eat we best get some sleep. We'll need a watch though; I'll go first, then Warren, then Myra."
"Oh no you don't!" Warren protested. "I may be new to this soldier thing but I know the middle watch is the hardest, how about _you_do the middle watch."
"What?" Myra asked, "Why is it the most difficult?"
"You have to wake up in the middle of the night, watch, and then try to sleep again. In the end you wind up with no rest at all."
Daiva rolled his eyes. "Fine then, you take the first watch, then me, then Myra, okay?"
"Fine, now let's eat." Warren said eagerly rubbing his hands together. Not much was left of the supplies, and splitting them three ways reduced them greatly.
"We had better find a homestead soon and buy supplies," Daiva said, "all right then; Myra and I will turn in, just under that tree there. Warren, try to stay awake." Warren gave him an obscene gesture then stomped off to find a decent stump to sit on.
Myra and Daiva had been asleep for two hours when they were shocked awake by Warren's screaming. They tore off the blankets taken from the battlefield and ran towards the screams, Daiva's sword drawn and Myra's tiny paring knife ready.
Daiva glanced about, ready for a fight then sheathed his sword. "Warren! What the hell is wrong with you?!!" he demanded. Warren stared at him, his lower lip trembling. He glanced at Myra then hung his head.
"I got bored, so I, well I was going to..."
"Pleasure yourself" Daiva filled in.
"Well yeah," he shrugged, "but my pecker Daiva!" he grabbed Daiva by the shirt. "It's shrunk! My balls they're... they're..."
"Oh shut up you idiot!" Daiva tore the terrified man off. "You're imagining things!"
"NO! No look!" He pulled his pants down. Both Daiva and Myra were prepared to look away but instead stared at his genitals in shock. Indeed his penis had shrunk to a mere inch long but the opening had expanded. His testicles were nonexistent, just a shriveled bit of skin remained.
"Good lord, Warren! We need to find a physician, Daiva!" Myra could hardly look away from the sight.
"Look, look" Warren pointed a trembling finger at Daiva's crotch.
"Holy fuck!" Daiva pulled his own pants down revealing a huge member, beast like in appearance, becoming erect in the chilly air. Enormous, pendulous balls hung between his legs, black and gray hairs sprouting.
"By gods it's happening to us! Oh no, no, no!" He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
"What's happening, Daiva?! What are you talking about?" Myra demanded looking back and forth between Daiva's giant organs and Warren's fading ones.
"The fucking Kodoches!" He roared. "This is what they did to the Governor, Myra! They turned him into a fucking horse!"
"What!" Warren squeaked. "I'm not turning into an animal, I'm turning into a woman!" his penis was gone now, and the rest was true, the remains seemed to be forming womanly folds.
"What about you, Myra? Has anything... changed?" She groped at her groin and felt nothing unusual, and sighed with relief.
"No, nothing. But Daiva, look at you!" his cock began receding back into a sheath, it's long, narrow length sliding into the gray and black fur covered sheath. Myra knelt beside him and ignoring Warren's annoying whimpering, gently stroked the sheath and pendulous balls. Daiva groaned and slowly his flesh colored cock returned, engorged with blood, veins roiled under the pink skin.
"Please, Myra, stop I... I..." suddenly an enormous load of semen burst out, plastering Myra's face with the sticky goop.
"By gods..." Daiva heaved a sigh and the long, narrow tube retreated into the sheath. "Myra, I'm sorry..."
"Never mind, but I know you're not turning into a horse." She said wiping her face with his fallen trousers.
"What? What do you mean?" he asked, absently holding the mammoth gonads in his hand.
"Well, remember that bull the Governor sacrificed on Year's Long Night? How they toyed with his, you know, before they..."
"Cyrano's balls you're right! They looked just like mine!"
"Guys! Maaa, over here." Myra spun round to look at Warren. When she did her jaw dropped. Between his legs, instead of a human penis, there were the lips of a vagina. The skin was fleshy brown, with sexual juices dribbling out; the opening belonged to a bovine. A long sinewy tail swished beneath him. Warren had removed his pants completely, along with his boots, exposing his feet, which were fusing into cloven hooves. The former man even smelled like a cow.
"What are we goooing to dooo?" His voice had deepened, almost sounding like a cow's bellow. Looking closely at his head, Myra could see tiny buds of horns; his face had begun to puff out. His nostrils flared drawing in the scent of a male.
"I... I don't know."
"Get her, HIM! I mean _him_away from here." Daiva said, snorting in the scent of Warren's warm, moist spot, his cock standing rod straight, and drooling cum.
"Come on, Warren." She took the cow man's arm and led a good distance away.
"I'm scared, Myraaa." He admitted as lay down, on his belly like a cow.
"You're not the only one." She said, looking around. It was a dark night; it was difficult to see this far away from camp.
"I-I was sooo attracted to Daiva! Oh I want him to fuck me! But Nooo! I can't smell him any mooore, its better. Myraaa are... are yooou sure you're okay? Loook at these?" He lifted his tunic, revealing four risen welts on his abdomen, situated atop a bulge. It was clearly the udder of a heifer. "Why don't yooou check?" Warren said, then licked his nose with a long fleshy tongue, his face even more cow like. Red fur now covered his tail, which was flipping about lazily.
Myra looked down at her dresses. He was right, she supposed. Then she heard a long, lonely bawl from Daiva. She looked up and began walking towards camp.
"I'll go check on Daiva." She said.
"Moo!!!" Warren moaned, flicking her growing ears.
In the fire light, Daiva's changes were much more pronounced. His face had pushed out into a broad snout of a bull, gray and black fur covered that and his grown ears.
He stood which for him meant four legs, nearly bovine now. Only more mass would make him look like a prime bull. "Maraaa, yooou oooka?" The bull asked.
"I'm okay so far." She scratched him between his ears. Daiva was going to protest but it felt too good.
"Yooou smell, Maraaa. Smell like Waa... Waa... her." He nodded his massive head in Warren's direction.
"I do?" She said, figuring he smelled Warren's scent on her clothes.
He nodded. "Ba differt, yooou smell..." he thought a moment, "pregnaaa, my instints say."
She touched her belly impulsively, and thought. Had the previous night actually produced something? She felt her heart drop. Not now! Not on top of everything else! Daiva's bellow drew back her attention.
"Oh shit!" the reason for the call was evident. A young red and white heifer stumbled into clearing, her scent driving the mostly bull Daiva wild. He trotted to her, his member sliding out of the sheath.
"NO! Daiva please!" Myra held onto his tail but Daiva had developed incredible strength, he simply drug her along. The massive bull mounted the heifer and began his rhythmic thrusts. Realizing she had lost, Myra let go and stomped off. Damn Daiva and his whore Warren! Damn the Kodoches! Damn the wholeworld!
When she was a good hundred yards away from the rutting cattle she sat under a tree and wept. Suddenly an ache in her abdomen hit hard causing her to writhe in pain and roll over, clutching her belly. Myra could feel her layers of silk tighten around her stomach. Dreading what she would find Myra tore them off one by one. When she was naked down to her loin cloth, she found her stomach swollen and covered in stretch marks like she was well along in pregnancy. Myra could actually feel the being growing inside her, kicking as it matured. The loin cloth fell away as she crawled back to camp, for no other reason than it was a familiar place. It continued to grow, bulging her belly until it was grotesquely huge, forcing her to stop. It was a calf inside her womb; she realized in shock, her child had become a calf! It was so huge for her tiny body, how would it ever get out?!
Myra groaned in frustration when, as she lay on her back, she felt her water break, sending out a flood of fluid. Her breasts had grown to be immense, leaking milk as they prepared for young to feed. Contractions racking her body, she felt with disgust a tail sprout from her coccyx.
"Oh gods! It looks like I'll be joining you Daiva!" She moaned feeling her massively swollen breasts work there why down her body until they reached just above her groin, where they merged and a new pair of teats came into being, all four trickling milk.
Fortunately, her pelvis grew and changed shape as the calf made its way to the birth canal. Myra's rump quickly gained mass, bones lengthening and shortening in her arms and legs. Light tan fur erupted across her body along with more contractions.
She was laying on her side now, the young heifer's head and legs protruding halfway outside her mother. Myra's head had remained relatively unchanged, until she felt her ears twitch and grow, moving along with the movement of her skull. "Moo!" She called out involuntarily. Myra realized she was just ordinary cow giving birth now.
The young heifer finally fell from its mother who stood and began nudging the calf up. She stumbled onto her feet and began nursing. As the baby suckled away, Myra's mind slipped into that of simple beast. Her instincts told her to find the herd and her sense of smell and intuition led her to the clearing where her bull and fellow cow grazed. The light tan cow joined them, her calf eagerly nursing at her side. The whole place stank of sex and a cow in estrus but she didn't care, it wasn't her concern.
* * *
Dreyan watched quietly, the cattle below in the glade munching away contently. He was mentally and physically exhausted; he had used copious amounts of magic in the past several days.
"I really am sorry, Master." His apprentice, Reyna, said the umpteenth time. Dreyan sighed tired of her apologies.
"Oh be quiet lass, as I said, no harm was done."
"I nearly killed her; she nearly exploded until you fixed her. I didn't know she was pregnant." The young raven haired girl said.
"Neither did me, lass, not our fault she's bit easy is it? It all worked for the best. Now we've got four to sell instead of three. Look, lassie, a fetus tends to draw enormous amounts of energy. It took your magic and went to town so to speak. That's why it matured in twenty minutes, it pulled away everything and more you sent to the girl, for her change."
"I think I understand, but how does one prevent it?" Dreyan smiled, reminded why he had taken her on. Reyna always asked lots of smart questions.
"The best way is to make sure your target isn't expecting! Short of that, well, I suppose I need to teach you some blocking techniques, keep things from drawing your energy."
"I see. And I did all right with the little fellow?" After Dreyan had shown her how with the big soldier, she attempted to transform the small feminine male. She had made him a female because it was much easier for her to do that because of her own gender, and less energy was needed. The other woman he decided to save until last for his own reasons, mostly because it seemed she could take care of the other two should anything go wrong.
"You very well with him, lass, now let's see if we can herd this bunch to Alaya for auction."
"Yes master, but can we keep the mother and calf? I think I've grown fond of them."
Dreyan chuckled. "Fine, but you take care of them, I suppose we can use them for practice, and I wouldn't mind some fresh milk."
Dreyan waited patiently as Reyna morphed into a horse. Dreyan and Reyna had been fortunate to run into the waylaid travelers when they did. Dreyan had taken his apprentice into the mountains for some while she worked on her transformation skills. He had been watching her shift into a cow elk when he heard the battle and investigated. They saw the young man, now the red heifer, drop his weapons and run. The bull or the man who was going to be, fought hard until knocked unconscious, then crawled off the field. It wasn't until the next day when they saw the woman, an unexpected bonus.
He mounted his apprentice and patted her neck. No saddle or reins were necessary when your horse spent most of her time as a human.
"Alright, Reyna, let's get that calf." The filly nickered as she trotted off, the Mage's fingers wrapped in her mane of raven black hair.