Post by Nadia Fairchild on Jun 3, 2013 22:33:31 GMT -5
Working with Cyan this past year had been awesome. Nadia had seen a real improvement in her wandwork, and her transfiguration skill in particular had progressed beyond anything Nadia had ever expected. She still had another year of school to go, but she was already much better.
This, of course, had only made her choice harder.
If she'd continued to suck at magic, well then, that would have just been a sign that she was meant to be a wolf. As it was, Nadia wasn't even sure what she really wanted anymore. Giving up her magical powers sounded better when she didn't really have any.
Nadia arrived on the dueling field, glad to find it empty. She settled herself down beneath the bleachers, and unloaded the stuff she needed. A few drops of the potion, but not too much. Her legs were crossed, and her back was ramrod straight. She let herself think of nothing but the breath moving in and out of her lungs. She had to focus inward. With her eyes closed, Nadia imagined collapsing in on herself. She thought for a moment she saw a flash of something the same scarlet shade as her hair.
And then there was pain.
For one sickening moment that seemed to stretch out in either direction, Nadia's whole world was nothing but agony. Her body shifted, bones twisting, organs re-configuring themselves, she could even feel her body hair growing. Or was it fur now?
The potion was supposed to have helped with this. If it had done it's job, it should have made the transformation easier and less painful. Nadia lay on the ground, unsure of exactly when she'd stopped sitting upright. The world was returning to her. She pushed herself up. She didn't feel any different.
It hadn't worked then. There was a chance of that. Nadia felt a strange mixture of disappointment, and...was that relief? Maybe this was for the best. Still, for a second there, she had been so sure it was going to work. Nadia reached for her things, and saw a slender, black foreleg instead of her arm.
A surprised yelp escaped her, sounding more canine than human. A mirror, she needed a mirror. It was harder to dig through the bag without thumbs, but in a moment, she had fished out a small makeup compact. After struggling a moment, she managed to press the button and it flew open. The face looking back at her was red, with white under it's muzzle and black ears.
She had done it!
Now, how was she going to turn herself back?
This, of course, had only made her choice harder.
If she'd continued to suck at magic, well then, that would have just been a sign that she was meant to be a wolf. As it was, Nadia wasn't even sure what she really wanted anymore. Giving up her magical powers sounded better when she didn't really have any.
Nadia arrived on the dueling field, glad to find it empty. She settled herself down beneath the bleachers, and unloaded the stuff she needed. A few drops of the potion, but not too much. Her legs were crossed, and her back was ramrod straight. She let herself think of nothing but the breath moving in and out of her lungs. She had to focus inward. With her eyes closed, Nadia imagined collapsing in on herself. She thought for a moment she saw a flash of something the same scarlet shade as her hair.
And then there was pain.
For one sickening moment that seemed to stretch out in either direction, Nadia's whole world was nothing but agony. Her body shifted, bones twisting, organs re-configuring themselves, she could even feel her body hair growing. Or was it fur now?
The potion was supposed to have helped with this. If it had done it's job, it should have made the transformation easier and less painful. Nadia lay on the ground, unsure of exactly when she'd stopped sitting upright. The world was returning to her. She pushed herself up. She didn't feel any different.
It hadn't worked then. There was a chance of that. Nadia felt a strange mixture of disappointment, and...was that relief? Maybe this was for the best. Still, for a second there, she had been so sure it was going to work. Nadia reached for her things, and saw a slender, black foreleg instead of her arm.
A surprised yelp escaped her, sounding more canine than human. A mirror, she needed a mirror. It was harder to dig through the bag without thumbs, but in a moment, she had fished out a small makeup compact. After struggling a moment, she managed to press the button and it flew open. The face looking back at her was red, with white under it's muzzle and black ears.
She had done it!
Now, how was she going to turn herself back?