Changelings - Ch 1: The supernatural (by Aurora Akita)

Ch 1: The supernatural (by Aurora Akita)

There are three realms of supernatural powers. Magick, Albumancy, and Nigromancy.

Magick is the broadest, and the most diverse. It is also the weakest. Magick can be virtually any color.

Witches tend to have dark hair. They ride broomsticks, carpets, and anything else that can be made to fly. They have a familiar, being a cat, a dog, as rodent or a bird, with occasional exceptions. They use elemental Magick, with the elements being a gage of power, earth, fire, water, air. They often use silver, black, red, and teal Magick, depending on the witch. They leave home at fourteen for a year to two years, then return home for a month and ether stay or leave after that.

Sorcerers use staffs, and can only use one element each. They can have rodents, snakes and birds. Sorceresses are the same in that. From there they differ, though. Sorcerers like gold. It helps with their powers. They leave home at fourteen and can’t go back for ten years.

Sorceresses like silver the same way sorcerers like gold. They go out at fifteen, and can’t go back for fifteen years.

Wizards. Always boys. Counterparts to witches. They generally use carpets, but can really use whatever they want. They have dogs, or sometimes owls or snakes. They are rarer, and tend to be less powerful, than witches. Though sorcerers are more powerful than sorceresses. Wizards use elements, but not the same way others do. They often have to use symbols or scrolls or chants.

They go off to train when there nineteen, from which point they can’t see anyone for a year, then their families for three years after that.

Magicians and Mages are simply two names for the same form of general Magick user, a Magician being a more powerful mage. Mages have only the power for tiny spells, while Magicians can perform larger feats, though they require some preparation. They don’t have familiars, and there methods vary so greatly there’s no way to know everything about them.

They say Ice witches are born, not made. Ice witches differ from regular witches in many ways. Unlike witches, with whom dark hair is most common; ice witches tend towards lighter hair. They wear practical clothing, and use a weapon implement. They have familiars. A large feline or canine who they ride, and some sort of bird they get as soon as they go out to train.

They leave home at fifteen, and must live in the wilderness of their choice, almost completely isolated from people, for five years. After that, they can go wherever they want, accept home. They can’t go home for twenty years, after their original five year training, unless a relative is dying. Even then, they only go back until death or recovery, then away with them again.

They don’t fly, or use any other means of transport besides there familiar.

Each color of Magick is compatible with colors that compliment it, and incompatible with colors that clash with it. As simple as if you painted them next to each other. Usually a witch has a color of Magick, and can attain more as she gains power and skill. Aside from how colors react to each other, they don’t mean anything. If you know your opponent is attacking with red, for example, and you had teal, you could fight with raw Magic, though the outcome would be in no way assured. Whereas, two colors that complement each other will not fight.

There is paper you can use to determine what color and element you have.

Albumancy is actually a fairly rare ability. That’s because no humans have Albumancy. None. Only elves. (Yes, they exist)

Albumancy can be any shade of blue or green. Very rarely, an elf will have purple or orange Albumancy. Not all elves have it, but for those who do, there lucky. Albumancy is the strongest form of supernatural ability. Albumancy is only one element for each person. The element power is like rock paper scissors, water beats fire, fire beats air, air beats lightning, lighting beats earth, and earth beats water.

Nigromancy is a varied and dark realm of supernatural power, outlawed in most of the civilized world. Weakest to strongest, Nigromantic elements are; Shadow, Metal, and Void. Nigromancy is learned from a Grimoire, a book of dark Magick. All Nigromancers go insane.

A well known form of Nigromancy, better known, in fact, than Nigromancy itself, is Necromancy, being the art of interacting with the dead. Necromancy too is outlawed.

Changelings - Prologue:

Prologue:

Diary of C family’s Tamsin Needle

The elf world has ended!!! The C family princesses Aubree and Livvy have had to be put in human households! They were being threatened by the G family! My sister, the queen is distraught over her daughters, and the king is furious. These girls where going to be pivotal in the treaty that is being negotiated with the E family! One of them, it had yet to be decided which, would be married to the E family’s prince, insuring a peace treaty. The king knows not what he is to do now. This could be the end of the C family! I can’t write any more now!

Feline - 1. Phoebe: Winter

1. Phoebe: Winter

What I remember of my childhood is hazy, unclear. I remember New York: tall buildings and grey streets, the feeling of being there, the life energy of the city. I remember the ocean as we sailed over it on our way out of the city. The oceans where crusting over; my parents were scared; so we left. I remember little of our journey; other things were happening, besides to the oceans. There where giant birds that ate people, netting was being put up everywhere. With no sky and no sea, ground transport was all there was. There were more animals to ride now, though. Hamsters where favorites, due to their speed, endurance, and sweet tempers. There were other animals too, though. Giant Coi Carp, and kats. It was the kats who always fascinated me, the idea of them at least.

Housecats the size of goats or sheep, occasionally bigger, the size of horses. The huge ones where called felines. They where ridden. The thing that made them fascinate me was that they where sweet, just like housecats. That, and the fact that no one had ever ridden one without a saddle.

My memories of my last day with my parents are vague, I remember them, their faces, and I remember my mother screaming and a screeching that wasn’t human and red everywhere.

And so, when I was about five, I found the garden. A garden is a place where kats are raised, as an aquarium is a place where Coi are raised.

I saw the kittens first. I stumbled into their enclosure in the winter, looking for warmth. The kittens where all stacked in a pile. I cuddled up with them. There razor claws scratched me as they slept, but I was warm, away from the snow.

The owners took me in. Ellen and Damon and there little daughter, Heather.

“What’s your name?” Ellen asked me when she found me.

“I don’t know.” I told her. “I don’t think I have one.”

“Well, think about it. If you can’t remember, we’ll just have to give you a new one. I’m Ellen. This is Feline Garden. Would you like to live here?” She asked.

I nodded.

“Come on then.” She said, helping me up and wrapping me in her coat to go back to the house. In the early days of the birds, children’s parents where often eaten, and the children turned up everywhere. There was no point searching. She held the door open for me and let me in. Damon was sitting at the table, holding baby Heather.

“Who is this?” He asked when he saw me.

“I found her in the kitten’s stable. She has Amnesia, or something.” Ellen said.

“Well, come on in and have dinner.” He said, smiling. They sat me down and gave me a bowel of hot soup.

“So, how old are you?” Damon asked.

I held up five fingers.

“You have kats.” I said. “Do you have Felines?”

“No riding kats, no.” Ellen told me. “Why do you ask?”

“I always wanted to see a riding kat.” I said. “Since they came to be.”

“I see.” Damon said. “Well, kats will have to do.”

The next day Damon loaded the back of his truck with buckets of fish, and put me in the back too and drove off into the kat fields. We had had cats when they were still small, my parents and I, and these kats where just like ours had been, only there were more of them. They romped and played with each other.

When the truck got through the fence, they all looked up. We drove into the middle of the field. The kats crowded around, head butting the truck and rubbing on it, there purring so loud I could hardly hear Damon.

“Throw the fish to them!” He called. The kats at the back where licking their shoulders indignantly. About half of them where black, the rest where grey and orange tabby, tuxedo, spotted, calico, and any other color any smaller cat could have been. They meowed all kinds of ways. I reached into a bucket and pulled out a fish, and tossed it into the hordes of kats. They meowed maniacally and tackled each other, resting over the fish. I tossed more out, and watched the kats in amazement. They leapt for the fish, trying to catch them. They rarely succeeded, but they didn’t seem to mind. Once I had emptied more than half of the barrels, Damon called to me to stop, and we went and fed the kittens. They were smaller than the cats, of course. While the kats where about the size of a miniature cow, the kittens ranged from the size of a medium dog to that of a sheep.

They where wilder than their parents. They scratched the truck with their razor claws, and meowed silently(or not so silently at times). They tackled each other, each stepping over the others to get closer to the food, levitating the way that kittens do. Scared, I tossed the fish away from the truck. They all bounded towards it with big, clumsy leaps, there disproportionate paws tipping them up.

We drove back to the house.

“Did you like the kats?” Damon asked.

I nodded. I was quiet then, still traumatized from my parent’s death.

“I’m glad.” Damon said. “I think you’ll learn to like it here.”

He was right. I did come to like it, and very quickly, too. I liked playing with the kittens best. They did slash at me sometimes, there razor claws catching at my clothes, but I didn’t mind. I loved every one of them.

“Why do you raise kats? I asked Ellen one day when I was watching Heather for her while she sewed up holes in cloth.

“For their milk.” She said. “And for their fur.”

“There fur?”

“They shed a lot of fur.” She said. “We felt it into big, big squares, and then people buy the wool.”

I nodded. This made sense to me.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“In the middle of what used to be called Florida.” She told me.

“Mama and Daddy and I traveled a long way.” I said.

“Yeah? Where’d you come from?” She asked.

“New York City.” I said.

“Oh my god!” She jumped up. “Do you have it? Are you contagious?”

I just looked up at her.

“No.” She said. “Of course. Your eyes are blue.”

“What does that mean?” I asked her.

“There is in illness you get from being too close to the crust.” she said. “Some people are contagious. If they are, they aren’t sick, but they can get others sick. If they’re like that, there eyes turn neon green. People who get it from the green eyed people have one violet eye while they are sick, and then eventually both eyes are purple. They can’t get anyone else sick, though.” She sat back down. “I’m sorry. I should have thought before acting. Such beautiful blue eyes.” She smiled at me.

I nodded.

“Have you remembered your name?” She asked.

I shook my head.

“Would you like me to give you one?” She asked.

I nodded.

“What kind of names do you like?” She asked.

I shrugged.

“How about a P name?” She asked. “Pam, or Penelope . Oh, what about Phoebe? Do you like that?”

I nodded vigorously.

“Oh, very good. Phoebe it is then. And your middle name… Oh, but more than one middle name is more fun.” She said, getting into it. “Your full name could be Phoebe Ursula Ell Grey.” She smiled. “Does that sound good?” She asked.

I nodded. “Fee-bee Ursul, Ursula Lll G-grey.” I tried to pronounce my name.

“Exactly.” Ellen beamed.

I smiled. I could not remember having a name.

Feline - Preface; Now: Spring

Preface; Now: Spring

I went into the inn. Persephone stayed in the forest near it. Her lack of a saddle would cause an uproar. The girl behind the counter was beautiful. She had two long, thick, dark braids, and blue eyes. She was chatting animatedly with some people at the bar. She saw me walk in, and winked at me. She pushed herself off the bar and came over to where I was. The bar was curved, in the Tarbin style. I saw a knife sticking out of her belt, and was glad I was not Waren. Relations where bad in these parts.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” She asked brightly, getting a mug from under the counter.

“I’m not.” I said.

“Do you proffer Tarbin drinks or Waren ones?” She asked. “We have a lovely Waren wine.”

“Honey, please.” I said.

“Do you prefer maple or butter?” She asked. Butter. She meant butterscotch, of course.

“Butter, please.” I said. She nodded and held the mug under a cask. Creamy liquid poured out of the tap. She slid it across the bar to me, and went back to her conversation.

The Honeymead was weak, as all honey mead was. Honey. It only meant it was not stiff enough to get you drunk easily.

“Could I have dinner soon?” I asked. “I have to get to bed early. For two, please.” I kept my eyes down. I could not hurt anyone, but I could alarm people. It was harder not to.

The girl grunted noncommittally, though I thought she sounded as though she was leaning towards a yes.

“I have money.” I added. I could see why she was suspicious; I was clearly young, and I was traveling on my own. “Actually, could I have dinner and as many fish scraps as is convenient?” I asked. She gave me a funny look, but this time she nodded. My assurance that she would be paid had done wonders.

She walked around, keeping up her conversation and starting several more.

“You’re clothes are strange.” She told me, putting a plate of food down in front of me.

“Like you said, I’m not from around here.” I was not in Tarbin linens, or the heavy canvasses the Waren people preferred. I was wearing all black. Cotton jersey tights and black leather boots up to my knees. I had on a floor length black skirt also cotton jersey, with zippers up the sides for easy riding, and a black long sleeve shirt of the same.

“That’s for sure.” She said. “Are you from an aquarium?” She asked. “Coi?”

“No.” I said curtly. She placed down my package of fish bits and walked off huffily. Apparently I was the first traveler she had met who didn’t want to tell her about my life. Oh well. She could be as disgruntled as she wanted. “I need a room.” I said. “And secluded stable stall.”

She nodded tersely.

The stall was fine. I left Persephone there with the fish, and went to my room.