Sylvari 1
Story by TikTikKobold on SoFurry
When a young man sets off to camp, he didn't expect to be visited by a literal falling star, but when he cuts himself on the mysterious metal, he finds himself changing into something greater.
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He had traveled these mountains many times before. The serenity of nature made him forget about all the annoyances of life. Birds chirp and the wind blows a cool breeze over his face. It had been a long time since the last time he had come out here, yet the mountain is as beautiful as it had always been.
He finds a nice track of land to roll out his tent and set up his camp. Quickly enough, he has his tent and his fire ready and is good to watch the stars in the night sky. He never got as beautiful of a sight back home. Civilization takes the wild, untamed beauty of nature and breaks it into submission, transforming this wonderful world he lives in into a boring, ordered mess.
If only he was one of the animals that lived here—never caring about making a living or what other people think. When he was younger, he was able to come here much more often, but now that he’s an adult, various commitments keep him from coming back, from enjoying all of this.
Back home, he’d never be surrounded by wonderful darkness. Back home, he’d never see the galaxy laid bare before him, like a lover disrobing before him. It’s beautiful, stunning, and full of surprises.
Shooting stars dart across the sky. It’s a sight that he would never see back home. He sits up, staring at it with wide-eyed wonder. “I just wish,” he says out loud to himself and to the stars, “that I could be here more often and not have to worry about home as much.”
One of the stars twinkles much brighter than the rest of them. He blinks and stares at that particular one. The light coming from it becomes brighter and brighter, filling the night sky with a blinding radiance and a burning heat. He covers his eyes as a loud and terrible burst of burning sounds roar throughout the night sky. The wind picks up, knocking him back before a loud impact explodes behind him.
The sounds of nature—the serene beauty around him. All of it has stopped. He pushes himself up and examines his surroundings. Dust cakes the campsite and his fire has been put out, plunging him into an eerie darkness. The orange glow of flames burns over the hill. He stumbles up and heads towards the site.
A crater scars the earth before him with tongues of flame scattered throughout the site. In the center is a bunch of rock, shattered and spread throughout the center of the hole. There is something that catches his eye, something that draws him ever closer.
There, amidst the rubble of rock and dirt, is a large, fist-sized blue crystal, glittering in the sight of the burning flame.
He falls to his knees before it and reaches out for it. While the heat of the rock is intense, there is a coolness to the crystal. He scoops it up, bringing it to his face. He can see himself in its reflection, looking with wide-eyed appreciation.
Ben’s blue eyes look back at him. Back home, he hardly had a reflection this magnificent that showed off all of his features. He runs his hand up through his brown hair, noticing that it looks a bit messy. He tweeks his nose and sighs. “Not much to look at,” he notes to himself, running his thumb over the crystal.
With a hiss, he flinches. Crimson blood pools up from where he cut himself on the crystal. He sticks his finger his mouth, shuddering as he drops the rock, but his face still looks back at him, and he cannot turn his eyes away. The coppery taste of his own blood flares in intensity and he blinks, quite unsure why. He looks at his hand, and the cut is a lot less dramatic than he originally thought. Shrugging it off to the surprise of the situation, he glances back down to the crystal, only to freeze.
The eyes that look back at him are not his own. The blue is much more intense than what he had just seen, almost glowing in the dark of the night. When he widens them in surprise, the pupils elongate and slit, as if a serpent stared back at him.
Ben stumbles back, falling onto his rear, his breath quickening. Whose eyes are those that look upon him? Has he been possessed by some devil? No, he would surely feel the influence, would he not?
A shock jolts down along his body, from his hand. It surges up to his shoulder, his chest, and then all throughout, until it shocks him along all corners. The force sends him back against the ground, staring up at that beautiful night sky. He pants, feeling the sweat beed up over his forehead, his fingers digging into the dirt as his chest becomes tighter, as if some beast had pressed itself against him.
His back arches as he feels something—this time not at all unpleasant. His eyes—those alien eyes, roll back as he opens his mouth wide. When his tongue rolls out, it feels longer than it once was, and cracks that happen along his jaw feel like the soothing sensation of a cleric’s healing, only a thousandfold. His groans into the night are of a pleased beast, yet, part of his mind runs with worry. What is this? Why does it feel this way? It shouldn’t be, yet, it is enjoyable. He forces himself up once again, falling onto his hands and knees as he stares down into the crystal, only to scream at the sight of the long snout, the flared nostrils, and the sharp teeth. He had heard tales of werewolves and their ilk. Is this his fate from some stone from the stars?”
A silence falls around him as he feels the beating of his heart, screaming as if trying to escape. That’s when another pang hits him and he leans forward, coughing, choking on something in the back of his throat. He grasps there, sharpened fingers scratching at his skin. The scratch catching an itch he didn’t notice was there, and through all his coughing, he finds tiny white things falling to the ground.