Elements Chapter 1
Elements
Mathias watched with trepidation from the barred window of the Faerosian Capital District Watch-House, the heat from the baking mid-day sun making him wipe the sweat from his brow with a grimy hand, his sweat damp red hair hanging over his eyes. Already people had begun to gather for what promised to be a good showing of the Citadels finest Flesh-Shapers....Or if...Well blessed Reynar preserve him he should get a Student new to the art, he'd seen a few ugly Flesh Crafted before during his stint in the Faerosian Uhlans. A few of the females stationed in the camp had been pretty enough for many of the men for a quick lay at the end of an extended mounted patrol, it had been better then sleeping with the horses. Still, the young third son of a Noblemen felt sorry for them, Life was hard for the Beastiea.
Mathias sighs and shakes his head of the memories as he watches a few heavily robed Mages and Alchemists prepare a large metal trunk onto the platform while another two prepared the circle with a large black stylus dripping with the special ink made with imbued moonsilver.
Turning away from the barred window he falls to his ass onto the damp stone floor and inspects the cell, bare dank stone walls, a low ceiling with a large and rather thick wooden door with a flap for the Guards to slip tins filled with slop into the cell, his cell-mates were like himself, all of them wearing loincloths, chests bare and covered in grime and dirt. Collected therein were a dozen men and women all slated to undergo the Crafting. And of course all of them claimed innocence. A tall muscular man with lanky blonde hair and a dark tan hinting at a life of hard work under the hot Faerosian Sun standing at the opposite corner of the large cell was accused with manslaughter during a drunken bar fight, the thin woman with black hair with the bruised face in the corner was a famous cat-burglar whose name turned out to be Ceila Keyes. She had made it a habit of preying on the upper crust of Imperial society and who valiantly refused to give up the location of the stolen goods. Thus ensuring her current punishment of undergoing the crafting, he had remembered reading about her capture the cities Daily Public Records, quite a harrowing read. Still everyone remained quiet as they all seemed to want to contemplate their futures and how quickly it was about to change. Each prisoner eyeing one another carefully out of a strange mixture of curiosity and unease.
Mathias rubbed his bare back against the wall before speaking. "Anyone else ever watch one of these?" The small group looked up towards him as their respective thoughts were interrupted. One man, a small man with a gaunt face and lean frame nods. "Yeah...Twice in fact, sent a chill down my spine seeing those folks undergo that magick." He pauses, "It was one of those things you want to watch no matter how nasty it is." He admits. A few of the others nodded in agreement as the tall man with the lanky hair shrugs his broad shoulders. "My village is quite small and we don't have a team of resident mages there, which is why I was sent to the Capitol." He pauses for a moment before amending, " I've of course heard of how this is supposed to happen and I've of course seen Beastiea and Four-Leggers. But then again everyone has. " He says as he leans back against the wall in thought before grunting, "I shouldn't even be here...That young ass pulled a blade on me at the bar, if his father wasn-" The woman, Keyes laughed. "I heard the guards talk Mr. Hick, apparently after the 'young ass' dropped the knife you cracked his skull against a table...Multiple times." The big man goes quiet and leans his broad back against the stone wall. Mathias lets the group go silent as he himself begins to think.
Before he could lose himself to his thoughts the sound of footsteps were heard echoing outside the door before stopping. The cell becoming even more silent as the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open, a bear of a man walking in who Mathias recognized as the Watch-Commander who had chuckled as he confiscated his things and tossed him into this cell with the others. The Commanders face was clean shaven with steel gray eyes, his hair damp with sweat from the scorching sun outside of the relatively cold cell. Behind him stood four heavily armed guards, gorgets and heavy steel sallet helmets obscuring their faces. The Commander nods as he looks over the twelve. "It's time for you all to pay for your sins..." One of the men, a regular looking middle aged man with straw colored hair stood up, "I'm innocent! Deliean is a lyi-" The man didn't get to finish as the Commanders gloved fist cracked into the man's jaw, the sound making the other prisoners wince as the man crumpled to the floor unceremoniously. "Splash some water on him." He says turning to one of the guards, "He'll go last; the crowd won't appreciate the condemned undergoing Flesh-Crafting while being knocked out and out of it."
Turning back around he nods to the prisoners. "As I was saying, you will all be marched out, your coverings..." He nods towards their loincloths. "Will be removed before you're marched out into the square..." He glares at the condemned in a way that made Mathias shiver. "If you don't turn into Four-Leggers then the ones who have outstanding debts will be sold at public auction." He says wickedly as he looks over towards the Cat-Burglar, "I hear there are a lot of people just waiting to meet you in person Miss Keyes." Mathias gave the woman a true look of pity as her face turned as pale as a linen sheet. The Watch-Commander simply chuckled at the woman's possible future before continuing, looking each prisoner in the eye with a callous and rather icy glare, steel colored eyes boring into them and causing each of them to cringe. "Those of you without outstanding debts will be of course be free to go...But of course your life's what little there is left of it, as a Beastiea will be dramatically reduced." The prisoners look at each other nervously. The Commander nods in as he walks out of the cell. "Now get in a single file line and follow the Guard in front of you."
Slowly everyone got into a short single file line, Mathias finding himself behind then grime and dirt caked backside of the one Keyes had called, 'Mr. Hick' though he was pretty sure it wasn't the man's name. As they left the room two of the guards walked in and grabbed the groaning prisoner still lying on the ground under the arms and lifted him up, a line of drool and blood running from his mouth as they dragged him out of the room. Walking through the dimly lit passage they proceed through the building, the building material slowly changing from solid gray blocks of stone and turning to wood and plaster. Large illuminating crystals hanging from the ceiling. "So...What about you?" The large man asks without turning around, "What did you do to get here?" Mathias shrugs, "Trumped up charges...And my Family no longer wanted to deal with me." The large man gives him a half turn. "Sounds like there's a story there." Mathias nods, "Yeah...There is." He says simply. The big man waited for him to continue a story he had no intention of sharing before sighing.
The small line of men and women finally reached a small room where a Priest and three Journeymen Mages stood with a large wooden trunk. The guards carrying the knocked out prisoner gently set him down while a third collected a bucket and dipped it into a large basin of water before throwing it on the man. Spluttering he sits up and groans, touching his still tender jaw, the guard drops the bucket and hauls the man up, "Get in line prison scum." He says pushing him into the back of the line.
With that finished the Priest steps forward, a young and rather plump man with a round fleshy face, a life of soft living evident in everything about the man. Coughing he opens up a book, "You, condemned by the laws of Faerosian Empire are about to have the flesh of your bodies worked over into the manner of the Beasts. Deviating from the pure and sublime form of humanity as gifted to mankind by the Gods themselves." He looks up from the book and towards the mages who had opened the box and began to draw a series of collars and crystal ampoules with a silvery liquid suspended on the inside. The fat priest cleared his throat, "Yes...Umm...Your bodies will be imbued will the blood of beasts, magic and alchemy. Your soul will either flee your body as you take the form of an animal or the will be corrupted just as your flesh will." Mathias could only shift around uncomfortably as he let his mind drift and wander, not sure what to think about that. He'd been raised to believe that Four-Leggers and Beastiea were creatures created or born without souls. But his military service in the North and contact with other several religions prominent in those areas had contrary views to the Church. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now? He hoped the Church was wrong about the whole losing or having one's soul corrupted. And looking at the others down the line out of the corner of his eye most seemed to hope the same. The whole practice of Flesh-Crafting started a century and a half ago as an alternative punishment for certain crimes. It proved popular to the Elites and Nobles like his family because it got around the Churches ban on Slavery. Even those who weren't formally enslaved would frequently find work in menial jobs low paying jobs. Even the imperial church began to benefit from the arrangement after they pushed that the Executions of humans to be immoral in the Eyes of the Church, being given an allotment of slaves from the State. A bloated and corrupt system that only now he came to dislike know that he'd be the one on the platform.
The Priest drones on for a few more minutes but it was clear to everyone he was bored and wanted to be finished with this part of his duties and move on. Finally he closes the book, "May the Fifty-Two Gods and Goddesses of Imperial Church have mercy on those whose souls shall flee their twisted forms and for those whose souls become corrupt." He takes a step back as the Mages come forward with the ampoules. The senior Journeymen Mage, identified by a gold leads marked on his shoulder nods. "Drink those. Don't waste a drop or you'll regret it when you get to the platform." He says as the last of the Prisoners gets an ampoule. Opening up the stopper Mathias looks at the silvery liquid suspended in the crystal. Out of the corners of his eye he notices the others already drinking or preparing to drink the alchemical mixture. Sighing he unstoppers the top and brings it to his lips to take a sip. And nearly gagged as the strange liquid touched his lips, the taste was powerfully metallic a strange tingling of magic that spread, a feeling he hadn't felt since he'd gotten too close to one of the Armies special mage units at the Battle of Caelin Hill.
After he finished another Mage collected the empty ampoules. Already his skin began to tingle and itch all over his body, slowly the feeling began to go deeper as his muscles began to burn, bones aching and the roots of his teeth burning. Nodding the Mages step back and let the Watch Commander speak, "There. The Alchemical solution you've just taken will begin to do its work, making your body mutable. If you don't undergo the Crafting you'll wish you were dead. So no thoughts of trying to escape." He says wagging a mailed finger. "Now strip... The shows about to start."
The a few of the more shy prisoners looked shy at what was happening, though the Burglar seemed confident as she unwrapped the loincloth and let it fall to the ground, the large man from the village stripping off his own loincloth and letting it fall away, revealing a rather large wedding tackle and balls that made the other men in the group reflexively cover themselves, a few of the women doing their best to leer a bit. Mathias just rolled his eyes a bit and took his off, eyes locked onto the far wall as each was told to turn around and face the doors. Turning Mathias sighs and looks up to avoid having to look at the larger mans ass as the large double doors are thrown open as the group is marched out, the wounded prisoner gets a baton to the small of his back and pushed forward still in a daze.
The first thing that hit Mathias was the heat; the sun was high in the sky and the stones of the square in front of the Watch-House, a large crowd of people standing around the platform. Each prisoner was hopping from foot to foot as their feet burned on the hot flagstones; sweat beading from their bodies as they finally stop at the foot of the platform. Looking over the crowd Mathias noticed a number of non-human faces towards the back closer to the streets. Muzzles, pointed ears and fuzzy faces standing in stark contrast. If one looked closely they would spy dogs weaving in and out around the legs of the crowds. A quick nipping muzzle grabbing a small coin-pouch before darting away before the owner could notice the suddenly lighter belt.
The Watch-Commander passes by the prisoners and ascends the stairs before holding up his hands to address the crowd. His skin felt on fire and tingling, his insides were writhing and his bones and teeth were beginning to ache as he waited for the Watchman to begin just so the pain his body was undergoing would go away. The Watch-Commander waits to the crowd quiets down and turns towards the Mages and gives them a nod to begin. Two of them each pull out a long silver inscribed pin while the third Mage finishes the painting a circle on the large fieldstone set in the center of the platform. Two scribes stood at the side, one with a book and the other with a quill and parchment, busy reviewing their information while the other took notes and collating information. One of the guards nods towards the large man in front, prompting the big man to ascend the steps of the platform, grateful to be off the hot flagstones that were cooking his feet. The Senior Mage nods towards the large fieldstone with the runic circle set in the center and makes sure the man puts his feet inside the circle. The scribe with the book walks forward and nods before announcing, his voice loud and booming, though tinged with a hint of artificiality that tipped Mathias off to him utilizing magic to carry his voice across the square.
"Aldin Thul. Registered as a farmer in the Aquilas Province. You have been found guilty of manslaughter of the second son of Edler Hausen. Your punishment is Flesh-Crafting to be administered by Citadel Mages." He finishes and steps back. The big man's face impassive as he takes a deep breath. The Mages approach with the needles and takes a small ampoule and dips the needle in before pulling it out, the head covered in red...And begins to gently prick the man all over his body. From his brow, down his neck, chest, back, arms and legs. Covered in blood that dripped down his skin the big farmer's breathing increases as his body begins to quake. A mage standing in front of him moving his hands into arcane signs and symbols while his mouth moves silently, long robes fluttering in the baking noonday sun,either ignoring or simply unaffected by the oppressive heat, the flagstone began to glow faintly as magic accumulated into the circle and traveled up the man's body. The taste of tin and a pulsing headache striking Mathias from the raw magic pumping through the man's body, more than one member of the crowd looking as if they were feeling the same way. Though remaining quiet as the transformation continued.
Suddenly the big man's skin begins to split, muscles beneath the writhing as the man grits his teeth and tries not to yell out as his bones begin to crack audibly, it looked as if his skin had suddenly become far too small as his height began to increase dramatically, large chunks of skin began to flake and fall of like some horrible disease as it turned to ash before drifting towards the earth. Finally unable to take it anymore the large man yells as he begins to rip off his ill-fitting skin, a large muzzle beginning to grow out of the front of his face while his hair fell out in clumps before turning to ash. Falling to his knee's Mathias watched in horrid fascination as the man's feet seemed to swell up and split, leaving a shiny pair of black hooves.
He heard one of the prisoners behind him begin to puke while another began to sob uncontrollably as what was going to happen finally began to sink in. Underneath the man's rapidly decaying skin revealed wet bloody fur and a broad muscular chest and body. Finally with a groan the large equine stands up, the rest of his old skin sloughing off and puffing into ash, a long tail falling down between his legs as he heaved and coughed. Spitting out teeth as new ones grew in, throwing his head back he gave a stunned cry, his mane hanging wetly from blood as even that puffed into ash leaving the bay colored Beastiea on his knees, nostrils flared as he took great draughts of air into his lungs. The Scribe writes something down onto his parchment and nods, two guards taking the stunned equine down the platform on the opposite side and waited. The crowd then began to clap and cheer, breaking the silence of the scene. "Aldin Thul is dead and his name has passed on, all that remains is the beast that took his place." The large Equine shook as he began to sob. "In accordance with the law the property of Aldin Thule will be left unmolested for his surviving members of his family."
Suddenly a guard pushed Mathias forward, stumbling up the steps his body began to shake as he slowly walked forward, fear writhing in his belly as he stepped onto the ash covered stone and shook. Closing his eyes he tried to take a few relaxing breaths as he heard the strangely hollow and very loud artificial voice ring out over the crowd. "Mathias Carrad, Third Son of Estin Val Carrad." The voice booms out, Not bothering to mention Mathias's prior military service, or his lack of employment, probably at the behest of his Father not wanting to further shame his family name.
"Your crimes are many! Smuggling, Manslaughter of the Black Smith Dalin Armhurst, Arson of the Drinking Establishment the Midnight Horsemen Tavern and Public Drunkenness. For your crimes you are sentenced to Flesh-Crafting to be administered by Citadel Mages." He finishes and steps aside out of Mathias's sight as the two hooded mages approach, dipping their needles into the crystal ampoules before pulling them out and beginning. He winces as he feels the sharp prick of pins all over his body. If his body had felt unnatural and in pain before...Know it felt like his skin was alive and on fire. Doing its best to rip itself from his body. Then the last Mage walked up and began to Chant and make Arcane Symbols, a magical pressure making his head feeling like it was about to explode and the painful sensation across his body feeling even worse.
Biting his lips he felt his teeth sink into the skin far too easily as the skin died, the nerve endings by Reynar having deadened. Finally he feels the needles finish down at his feet as the Mages pull back his body began to spasm. His skin began to itch as he felt something began to grow under his flesh and then the horrible feeling of his flesh contracting, the skin of his back and stomach begins to split with a wet tearing sound, he began to tear apart his loose skin with his fingers, claws growing beneath the skin of his hands as a painful fiery feeling running across his body. Falling to his knee's he yowls out in obvious pain and begins to tear away his skin, great patches of skin turning to ash, his bones re-adjusting and twisting when he feels his face feel as if it were being pulled as a new muzzle split from his face.
Giving ragged scream of pain he finally just let all the flesh and hair from his body begin to fall off his body and turn to ash, a great pain came from his mouth as he felt new teeth grow in his mouth, his older teeth popping out of his new muzzle. Groaning he spits them out and watches as even those puffed to ash as they hit the platform. Finally with a final shake he felt the pain begin to subside into a mere throbbing ache in his body. Standing back up he found his feet had altered to a digit-grade shape. Looking over his body he noticed his hands and arms and feet covered in black fur, his paw-like hands each bearing a hard claw. His body covered in fur and sooty ash, he brushed it off his white belly and inspected the red fur of his sides, a strange feeling coming from his backside as he turned his head to see a large and rather fluffy tail hanging above his ass, in no little shock he realizes what he had turned into, a Fox...His inspection of his new form was interrupted by the Scribe, "Mathias Carrad is dead and his name has passed on, all that remains is the beast that took his place." The scribe announces as he steps back into view. Mathias looking out into the sea of faces as they stared at him before cheering wildly, taking a step back he shakes his canide head. . "In accordance with the law the property of Mathias Carrad will be left unmolested for his surviving members of his family." He yells out to the applause of the crowd, the Fox who had once been the son of a Prominent Noble still managed to bitterly think of how little he had going to his older brothers or even his bastard of a father.
Shaking he feels someone push him off the stone and lead him down off the platform towards the large equine, his large face streaked with tears as he gives the smaller fox a nod as he's pushed towards the side. The sound of another prisoner ascending the steps another Scribe approaches the pair, "You....Horse." He says with no little disgust as he looks over a sheet of parchment, his finger tracing something as the man's eyes skimmed the document. "You must have made the Eldrin of your Village quite upset. " He says still reading. "He's saddled your family with a pile of debt...Which they've defaulted on...You'll be going to the Public Auction." He says flatly. The large Beastiea shaking, lifting a hand to cover his eyes as he shook with emotion, nodding the Scribe turns to Fox. "And you? Your rich father left you out to dry it seems. You can't obviously pay the debt you owe to pay for the burnt down Tavern ." Mathias's eyes widen as he realized how much shit he'd just been dropped into. "Public Auction." The Scribe announces as the screams of a female prisoner echoed across the Square.
The Scribe walks away as the Fox feels irons clapped on his wrists followed by a large metal collar by the guards. The Horse beside him giving a whinny of surprise as a metal collar is placed around his neck and irons clapped on his wrists by the guards. The largest of the three Guards nods towards them, "Keep in line you two...You'll need to be processed at the Auction House for your Eventual sale." The faceless guard says as he gives them each a swat to their backs. "Get moving beasts." He growls causing the two to begin to move, once again he found himself behind the large male, though with one major difference considering the males new species. And the fact that because of the Horses increased size his eyes became level to the males well muscled and rather large ass and thighs, black tail flicking left and right. Turning to look the Fox saw the Burglar yowling as she slowly became a Beastiea and not a Four-Legger as she was likely hoping for. Her fate sealed just like him and the Horse in front of him as they were marched through the crowd.