#648 words

Directly in front of a lone woman stood two imposing figures in black robes, one with a dagger pointed right at her. Surrounding them was a semicircle of too-quiet people that didn’t seem to even breathe, and the bodies strewn along the ground appeared to be from that group.

“I’ll only tell you once more, elf. Drop your blade or we kill you where you stand.”

The woman responded as she lowered what appeared to be a thin sword. “Oh? You don’t think I’m pretty enough to keep me around as a thrall? Elves not quite your thing? You know we’re quite well known for our beauty. I bet if-”

“Silence!” shouted the second robed figure. He rubbed his head. “You are by far the biggest headache I’ve ever had to deal with. Kill her and be done with it.”

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty!” She said. “Let’s see... you have a commanding presence. Are you, perhaps, the elder vampire here?”

There was a grunt for a response.

“You, the one to my left, yes?” She asked.

“Why does tha-”

Before he had time to respond, an enormous crossbow bolt pierced the man’s skull with such velocity, his body seemed to just suddenly be pinned to the floor of the cave.

Hector let out a yelp, turning to see Altung with his crossbow out. When had he set that up?

“‘Tis a shame! A few years younger and he would have been my type.” Came the woman’s voice from below. There was a sudden confused cry not unlike Hector’s, and when he turned his attention back down, the elf had her blade through the chest of the remaining robed man.

As if in response to the death of the two robed men, the semi-circle of eerie watchers all seemed to collapse in a heap, and Hector could hear Altung swear under his breath. “Come on.”

A few minutes, and Hector and Altung approached the elf on the ground floor, cleaning her blade. “Well now! I send you in for just a bit of light recon and you go and get yourself caught anyway?” She said.

“Must I remind you how many times I’ve said I’m no spy?” Altung said, shouldering his crossbow. “Besides, it worked out. This is Hector.” He cusped Hector’s shoulder and pulled him forward. “Kid’s from the same village all these thralls came from. Think he’s the last one.”

“Oh I see!” She exclaimed, eyes alight. “My name is Lymsleia! Professional vampire hunter and duelist! One of the best!” She gave Hector what he thought to be the most elegant bow he had ever seen. “Probably!”

“Er,” Hector stammered, “It’s my honor, uh, Sir- uh, I mean, Lady Lymsleia.” Not only was it strange enough speaking to an elf, but the bow had thrown him for a loop since firstly, it was a more masculine gesture and secondly, he was nowhere near important enough to be bowed to. “Do… do you know if the other villagers are okay?”

Lymsleia straightened back up, and shared a look with Altung before responding. “I’m sorry, dear Hector. Your friends… it’s been too long. I wish we could have gotten here faster.”

His heart sank deep within his chest. He could feel that strong, powerful emotion dragging him down despite the concoction Altung had given him earlier. This was all for nothing, then..?

Certainly not done by someone with much expertise in the matter. Simply glancing at them, the creatures were anatomically correct. But had no sense of artistry.

It looked like a sketchbook on a wall. Unfinished.

Quite a few different species, sometimes with annotations for proper identification or close ups of wings. On a wall.

The hungry-looking cardinal over the door on the upper floor was something else.

Asmodeus certainly had enough time to look at everything, since his ‘host’ was moving in a bit of a snails pace, holding up a finger to take a break, leaning against a wall.

This angel certainly was not healthy. And definitely had a fever, judging by the temperature she emitted alone. The second door was opened in one try. And they stumbled into… a room.

It had high ceilings, plants crawled up the walls, the whole ceiling was made of glass. It already felt cold just seeing it. It was cool, too.

At least there was a sofa on the side of the room. Clutter-free except for pillows and a blanket. A perfect place to deposit an ailing angel with a desperate need to sit down. He gently led her down to she cushions and sat down next to her, made sure she had a blanket to curl up in.

With a confused expression, she did take the blanket and wrapped herself in it, legs pulled up against her chest. The shoes fell on the floor sometime later.

Raphael might be able to talk a little bit later. Which presented an opportunity to observe… the room. The pull-out couch – facing a TV and some electronics - was the only place clutter-free. The room was not untidy – everything seemed to have a place. But apparently Raphael had hobbies.

The couch table was filled with half-filled journals, magazines and…a laminator. The first shelf was dedicated to textiles with a sewing machine, countless needles, a miniature loom (of all things), enough wool to produce several quilts, many unfinished projects – and quite a few finished ones. The next shelf? All kinds of artistic material – pencils, coal, acrylics, watercolours, canvases, scraps, scissors, glue. Next up: Pottery, airdrying plasticine. Funnily enough, he also spotted a 3D printer. It made him smirk. But there were lot of painted figurines next to it. The next shelf was filled with so many books. With annotations… Several pieces of sports equipment… something like a greenhouse…  and that was only what he spotted at first glance.

And then there were other rooms – one actually had a door. It went into a laboratory, she had said something along the lines. The other rooms simply had no doors. One was a bathroom, at least the tiles said so. One was a bedroom, at least according to the many pillows strewn about…

No kitchen.

A light cough next to him brought the attention back to the angel, she looked intensely miserable and said: “I… did not realize that letting you in… means you see this place.” She blinked slowly, looking very unhappy with herself. “It’s… it’s not for visitors.”

Asmodeus looked at her, looked at the mixture of certainly well used equipment all around them and chuckled: “The couch is big enough for two, is it not?”

Some tension left her already weak frame.

“Are you going to paint the walls in here, too?” They currently were still white.

And just like that, she relaxed completely, looking feverish, but more like her usual wide-eyed self and said: “Wanted to get… better before. Got distracted. I’m better with music than with pictures.” She coughed into the blanket, groaned and put her head on her knees.

At least that was a definite answer. “The ship can do it,” I shrugged.

“Then let’s do it!” There really was no holding her back, then.

“Ship? You heard her. Initiate swapping.” We both stood on the ships surface, there should not be any problems. “You should know my form is fundamentally different from yours. You never saw my unaltered form before. And it will be an entirely new experience. Your form will likely be different for me as well, but there… will be a lot less surprise in… volved.” My speech slowed down because she didn’t seem like she was listening, looking everywhere but at me.

Taking a bit of a breath, I tilted my head and watched.

After two minutes, she glanced at me: “Your body is surprising, alright. Anything I need to take care of?”

“Mh… well, you’ll see in just a minute,” no one could prepare you for your first body swap.

 And that was exactly what happened, then. We changed. And Matia… reverted to an amorphous being, barely held together by her will.

Must be quite a strange feeling.

I merely had to deal with massively reduced senses… but hearing, seeing, feeling, tasting and smelling was still there. And a rudimentary ability to sense telepathic attempts de to electromagnetic signals. Very fair.

The body was also stable on its own. Nearly no control needed. The motions necessary for living – breathing, swallowing liquids, heart beating, digesting – all worked just fine on its own.

I merely needed to exert a bit of will to stand. Balance did it’s own as well, even in the bipedal state.

Reproductive organs were… a thing. Huh.

Strange, but all in all, not too difficult.

When I glanced down, I saw that Matia was… less lucky than that.

My own form… still looked a little lifeless.

Until it started bouncing. Bouncing in rapid movements, even leaving the floor.

I raised my – unfamiliar - brows and blinked. Jumping was… not exactly a preferred mode of transportation for my kind. But I supposed floating was not that easy.

THIS IS WEIRD

Was suddenly broadcast. And… yes, the rudimentary ability to receive kicked in. It gave the body a headache.

But I could tune in. And… think back? It was really a bit strange. I very carefully thought: We are a telepathic a-

YOU ARE VERY LOUD!!!

Yeah, there the headache was again. Wow. No wonder I never got anything from her, usually.

“Ship? Reverse the process,” because it sounded very much distressed.

And two minutes later, I was… myself again. Slightly bruised, actually, while Matia fell, gasping for breath, and landed on her bum. A part suited for that.

With a few cracks, I assumed a more human-alike form. But modelled after one of the images in her head.

“Why did you reverse? This was AWESOME!” She sounded almost angry.

“… you sounded more distressed, really,” and definitely not in control, I’d need to nurse the bruises a little.

“Eh, I just didn’t have a grip on it yet,” she waved it off, “You’re a BLOB! And you can’t see! But I knew where everything was! It was soooo cool!” Her eyes almost sparkled.

And I scratched my head: “… I think… I’ll have to teach you a few things before we can try that again”

“But we will?” She grinned.

With a sigh, I said: “We’ll see”