“For though the transformee might enjoy the likeness of their altered form, they lack the beauty of their original body, which is greater than any other thing they could ever possess.” -A passage from the work, On The Ethics Of Transformation, by arch-warlock, Jacouse of Animus; written C. 103,473 RHP (Revelation [of] His Power).

  Nex huddled further into the soft dough of the bread loaf as he shuddered helplessly while the winter-like breeze that seeped through the crevices of the gargantuan leather satchel that contained him. The natural-sized rodent could barely feel the jostles and movement that followed from every step the owner took while his blood grew colder and numb.

  The mouse, not too long ago, had been on the shoulder of his rescuer as the pair passed through the village of Kweth. Nex glanced around curiously at the array of mud brick huts, hewed branch inns, and cobblestone workplaces. The gazes of the townsfolk focused on the cloaked feline sorceress as she continued to retrace her steps.

  "Rrrroww!" the heavy purr of a feral cat emitted, as the stray creature trailed behind the humanoid cheetah looking famished toward the vermin on her shoulder.

  "Squeak" Nex shrieked, and tightened his talon-like hands on the white-silk gown.

  Cheera halted her movement and glanced over to the mouse. Upon seeing the Guardian's fear, she followed his gaze toward the stray that sat patiently beside her.

  "Oh?" Cheera said, and smiled down at the creature, "Hux-Derlevi, sir. I am sorry, but my little companion here, as appetising he may seem, is not up for being a snack."

  Nex gaped at the cheetah; uncertain of whether she was being serious or simply messing with him. He didn't get much time to react, as the sorceress pivoted herself in the direction of a butcher's marketspace.

  "However, I would feel bad if I simply left you hungry," Cheera continued, as the stray tagged along, still eyeing the frightened rodent.

  She paused and searched the array of animals that had been slaughtered and skinned for both business and sustenance, in hopes of finding something to give the cat. Her emerald eyes, however, were drawn to the only non-fur or featherless carcass; dead rats were hung by their tails beside the array of meats in the perfect shape --that was, so far as appearance granted.

  Cheera turned her attention toward the mongoose butcher, who was divvying up a fish, his back to the shop's wide-open door.

  "Pardon me," Cheera cried for the man's attention, "What are these?"

  "Eh?" the mongoose uttered in confusion, as he looked to where the cheetah pointed.

  "The rats, why are they next to your supply?"

  "Ta keep da living ones away from it," he answered, "Can i help you, miss?"

  "Certainly," she replied, "I'll purchase one of the rats."

  Cheera flicked her wrists and extended her arm down toward her opposite open palm. From out of the sorceress' sleeve came two rusty, minted copper pieces. The insignia of a one-eyed wolf glared back from the coins.

  Cheera quickly untied the rat carcass before the butcher had even collected his payment. The cheetah looked back down to her side, where the stray gazed eagerly at the rat. She released the deceased rodent, which was gratefully taken in the cat's maw.

  "Hey, hey!" the mongoose shouted after the cat, as it strutted away with its new treat. The infuriated butcher glared at the sorceress despisingly. "Why'd you do that?! Ya just wasted yourself an orphan's meal."*

  “What do you mean?” the sorceress responded, and twitched her ears, “Do you genuinely think someone would even want to feast on that? If anything, they'd suffer from famine if they did eat it."

  "Not ever'one can dine like ye can, you... You...You mystical bureaucrat!" the mongoose slurred, only to notice the vermin on the cheetah's shoulder, "By Gan Tus, ye already had one! Why de bloody velnir, if you were so fixated on helping a pest, use it?!"

  Cheera made no attempt to reply. Instead, she simply flicked her tail, uttered: “May you find peace with your day.”, and turned her back to the mongoose; who continued to spur derogatory words behind her.

  The cheetah turned to her side and staggered when the mouse was nowhere in sight of her shoulder. Her tail flicked wildly as she glanced worriedly for the mouse. A shrill ‘squwee!’ caught her attention. Looking down, Cheera saw the rodent clutching at her pant legs desperately. The sorceress stooped down and scooped up the mouse who scurried about expectantly to get back on her shoulder.

  Cheera, however, brought her hands toward her face and looked directly at the confused rodent, who wondered why the feline wouldn’t let him get back on.

  “Look,” the cheetah began, and tilted her ears wearily, “I get that the satchel might not be comfy to be in nor does it give nice views. But we’re drawing near the mountains and I have to start climbing.” She poked a finger at the rodent’s belly, pinning him in her palm as she continued: “So to make sure I don’t lose you, you’re going in the satchel.”

  “Eep sqweep squeak!” Nex protested, and coiled his worm-like tail in frustration.

  “Now, Nex, I did warn you I’d have to do it back by the beach,” she argued, “Come on, don’t be feisty now.”

  The sorceress lowered her hand to her side where her satchel hung by her waist. She opened it and held out her hand for the mouse to hop in. Nex slowly approached it and uttered beneath his breath: “Pip sque eep mip.” before he hopped in.

  “I heard that,” Cheera called after the rodent, and shut the satchel tightly. She looked ahead of her and saw the mountains which secluded her home. Dark, grey clouds hung just a little above their summits and threatened an oncoming storm. “You’ll be thankful later I’m certain.”

  He most certainly was now. Not even his fur could keep him warm and he felt himself grow colder and colder. Cheera similarly could barely feel her own touch with every steep rock she heaved over. The cold hardness of stone stung at her already numb fingers.

  The only thing that motivated the cheetah from slowing down, was the foliage of a tree beginning to peek over from above. By the time Cheera had found the path –which was fairly obvious since lantern lit posts flanked its sides– a gentle snow started to come down.

  She pushed desperately against the powerful winds and slowly was graced with the growing visage of the octagonal foundations that surrounded the Gasct C?uk (Sacred Tree) inch-by-inch. The wind became more savage which caused the sorceress to hold up her hand –the one which had been bitten by the witch back on the beach– to her face for protection.

  Cheera paused and glared at the wound with horror; jagged black lines seemed to expand out from the wound in every direction. If her heart wasn’t already beating its fastest to pump more blood through her body, it certainly was now. The cheetah began to hurry against the wind, ignoring that her cloak’s hood had been blown off by the wind.

  She reached the doors, and with the last bit of her strength pounded her fists against the double-arched wooden doors. Her breath grew more hoarse and the clouds which had escaped from her muzzle and snout before now dwindled. Just as she was about to let her legs give out, the sound of the door’s bolt tickled her ears and in no time her emerald eyes were blinded by the orange and yellow hues of light as the doors were pulled back.

  Four hands grasped at her clothes and dragged her into the monastery; the atmosphere engulfing her like a warm blanket had been placed around her. The hands let go of their grasp and the sound of shuffling feet with shouts of orders echoed through her ears. Cheera huddled herself on the padded stone floor silently while the doors behind were shut. For the first time since she had begun the ascent, the sorceress heard a voice.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “By the whiskers of Jeffrey The Great!” the thick accented, masculine voice remarked, as rough hands clasped the cheetah’s shoulders, “Cheera, are you alright?”

  Cheera groaned helplessly and forced her eyes open. Staring back at her was a middle-age-looking golden retriever, dressed in only a black tunic with a white-hooded poncho, granite eyes and very little hair on his head. A weak smile crossed the cheetah’s lips, and she curled her tail as she responded: “I’m as bright as Gan Tús’ll ever let me be, Thomas.”

  The canine heaved a heavy sigh of relief and calmed his frantic tail wags. Another figure drew beside Thomas, whom Cheera recognised as L?nc, who was equally concerned as the canine.

  “Oh my spirit, Cheera, are you alright? You aren’t hurt, are you? Can I get you anything?” she said frantically, and all at once.

  Cheera groaned in agony at the racoon’s rapid speech of questions which further invoked the ache which racked her mind.

  “Calm down, L?nc,” Thomas instructed, and waved to shush the frantic sorceress, “you’re agitating her.”

  “Well, I have a knack for doing that, but I’m just trying to make sure she’s safe,” L?nc responded, and started to reach out to heave the cheetah up only to retract at the stone cold touch of the feline’s body, “Oh, Cheera… You’re freezing. Hold on, I’ll have Offa bring something warm for you to drink and a quilt.”

  “No need, L?nc,” an elder wise voice piped in, “I already took the liberty of the task.”

  Cheera’s weary head pivoted to see the voice’s source. Aritot, the ancient-looking otter, approached the group holding a steamy wooden tankard in his hands. The cheetah took a whiff –her sense of smell having returned– and raised her head.

  “Mmm…” she purred, and weakly rose to her feet, “Jasmine tea?”

  “Steady now, student,” the otter instructed, noticing her uneasy movement, “Up against the wall now, there you go.”

  Cheera leaned against the elegant-carved walls and gracefully took the warm tankard from her teacher. The warm tea slowly started to reheat the cheetah’s blood with every sip. Aritot’s attention was drawn toward the young sorceress’s hand; specifically the one which had the bite wound and markings. The otter’s fur perked up, and immediately he grabbed the cheetah’s wrist.

  “How… How did this happen?!” he stuttered, his voice panicked.

  The other two Meiguilders** looked with equal worry at the hand. Cheera’s ears drooped down and she would have blushed had not her blood still been dethawing.

  “I, uh…” she began to answer, “I encountered a witch at the beaches.”

  “A witch?!” Thomas repeated in disbelief, and glanced over to the elder otter, “Witches don’t come this close, especially during the time she was gone.” He looked back toward the cheetah and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you hurt anywhere else?! How long ago were you bitten?! Do you feel funny?!”

  “Thomas, be at peace,” the otter barked, as he pulled the canine off the cheetah, “She’s already been through enough.”

  Before any other word could escape the group's muzzles, a weak and weary ‘Squeaaaaaaaaaaaak…’ caught their attention. All eyes looked toward Cheera’s satchel as the sound of something scurrying about in it reached their ears.

  “Ah, I almost forgot,” Cheera responded, and handed the tankard to L?nc, “The Guardian that arrived…”

  The sorceress pulled her cupped-hands from the satchel, like something precious were in them, held them out to the trio of older magical users, and opened them. The trio all looked confused at the sight of a normal churchmouse with his talon-like hands around his arms trying to warm himself.

  “He, um, was altered by the witch,” she elaborated, while the mouse looked fearfully up at the huge faces looking down on him, “I just managed to save in the last moment. Say hi, Nex.”

  The rodent offered a weak wave which was responded by L?nc, who smiled curiously at the mouse. Thomas and Aritot continued to look him over with concern.

  “What’s his name, did you say?” Thomas asked, as he poked the mouse with his forefinger and caused the mouse to stumble on his back.

  “Nex,” Cheera answered, “Well, his title stone read Nexus, but he didn’t like it. So, Nex was decided as a substitute.”

  “Pip sqwee, meep peep squeak?” Nex asked, and huddled up in the cheetah’s palm.

  “Who are they?” the sorceress repeated, and answered once the rodent had nodded: “Their the people I said could help you back to normal.” She looked up at her peers with hope and expectancy. “Right?”

  Aritot merely wore a light frown while L?nc and Thomas looked at each other with worried expressions. Cheera’s ears drooped again and her smile began to falter as she repeated: “We can help him, right?”

  “Cheera…” the otter began, and furrowed his brow, “You know we are not permitted to alter the form of any being no matter the circumstance.”

  “That is unless it is during the autumn solstice,” the cheetah argued, her smile now a nervous frown and her tail swaying like crazy, “We-we-we are allowed to use transformative powers then.”

  “Cheera, the answer is no,” Aritot stated, and looked at her sympathetically, “Not now at least.”

  “Then… Then we’ll wait until we can do it,” Cheera proposed, her voice now sounding desperate.

  “We can’t do that either,” Thomas retorted, “Classes are gonna be starting soon and no outsiders are allowed to witness them.”

  “Well we can’t leave him out there alone,” L?nc said, “He’d die out there undefended.”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Aritot exclaimed, and extended his hand out to the cheetah, “Hand him over, Cheera.”

  “What?!” Cheera uttered in shock, “W-why?”

  “We need to take some time to inspect him,” the otter explained, and motioned toward her bite wound, “And you need to get that fixed soon before it becomes too late.”

  “N-no!” Cheera whined, her eyes on the verge of tears as she backed away from her master with the mouse still in her hands.

  “Cheera, don’t act this way, please,” Aritot insisted, “You’ve done all you can, now let us work with each other to come up with a solution.”

  Nex looked around with confusion and worry while the group bickered, but from what he could sense there clearly was something off. Just as it seemed the otter was about to grab the rodent, Cheera shoved her hands around the lips of her muzzle. Nex started to let out a surprised squeak but it was muffled. L?nc and Thomas recoiled in shock and disgust at the cheetah’s actions while Aritot looked upon her with disappointment. Just as Cheera was about to let her hands down, she noticed that the mouse’s tail still dangled out of her lips and pushed it fully into her mouth quickly.

  “Cheera…” Aritot began, “You’re hurting him.”

  Cheera didn’t listen, she wouldn’t listen. The young sorceress felt her eyes grow wetter and warmer by the second. Not wanting to be seen by her counterparts, the cheetah turned her back toward them and hurried down the corridor, careful not to harm the Guardian in her maw. Aritot, L?nc, and Thomas watched as Cheera disappeared around the corner. Thomas looked toward the other direction and waited for a brief moment. He looked back with confusion at the otter when nothing happened.

  “I thought you would have forced her to come back,” he said, and looked back toward the direction the cheetah had taken, “Like you did to me whenever I acted like that.”

  “I won’t force her to face me,” Aritot responded, and gently swished his tail, “She clearly needs some time to work through herself.”

  “Well, she can’t have too much; you saw how infected her hand was, she needs to get that fixed now,” Thomas argued, and looked back to the otter, “Do I have your permission to go after her, Master?”

  “You do, but don’t be harsh on her,” the otter answered with a wave, and walked off in his own direction.

  Thomas looked over to L?nc, who also wore an expression of worry. The racoon wagged her bushy tail and shook her head.

  “She’s still as young as I recall seeing her for the first time,” she uttered, and raised her eyebrow as she gazed at the retriever, “Still have no regrets about demanding we keep her?”

  “Ah, to velnir with you,” Thomas responded, and started to head after the cheetah, “I never make a decision I will never come to regret. Ever!”

  L?nc chuckled to herself while the canine disappeared around the corner. Once she was certain she was alone, the raccoon mused over her thoughts.

  You’re still as funny as the day we met, Tom, she mentally commented, and took a sip of the nearly empty tankard the cheetah had given her, And never forget that it was I who saved you from that creek.

  TO BE CONCLUDED.

  *- An ‘orphan’s meal’ is when a rat, cooked or raw, is devoured like a main course meal. The name arose out of a myth when orphan corpses were discovered having rat’s with chunks bitten out beside them. Of course, most orphan’s will insist that it’s strays who are responsible.

  **- Pronounced ‘mage guild’ (Māj-ɡild)