The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

WM [65] My Raven

Bjorn and Tanisha sat across from each other in their tent. It was going to be the last time before they left and met with Fuyumi and the new bodyguard Sigrun had hired. It was finally time to commune now that they both had some semblance of how it was supposed to be done. Tanisha summoned her Hard Air Constructs which surrounded Bjorn while he filled the tent with the most dense Poison Cloud he could make without letting it spill outside. 

They both meditated on the other’s power letting it filter into them and touch their cores. The experience had been oddly intimate like allowing the other into their soul. In a sense it was, because the bond they shared was soul deep. Even though they had an understanding of how to do it now it wasn’t easy. The soul naturally wanted to repel foreign influence; it was the most sacred place of a person’s being after all. Overcoming that natural defense took a concerted effort and constant attention.

It made Bjorn wonder how they managed to do it by accident. Apparently combat made them more receptive to each other's influence. Perhaps it was the Familiar Contract that made it easier since trust and shared power are where that bond shines. Regardless of how, it didn’t take long before Bjorn felt the power settle in his core. Finally he had unlocked the first step into allowing him to speak.

“We did it, we unlocked it.” Failsafe said gleefully. “I tried to see how it was done but it didn’t follow the Familiar Contract at all. It is fully a soul connection thing so I couldn’t observe.”

“That's great.” Bjorn responded. “Well go ahead and analyze the ability. Once Tanisha finishes with the Poison cloud we are moving on to the next one.”

It took only moments before Tanisha opened her eyes with a smile. “I did it! I can now breathe out a necrotic poison cloud. Did you get an ability too?”

Bjorn nodded and wrote on the ground: Hydromancy next.

“Hmm, and for me Poison Infusion I think it is your poisonous claws attack.” Tanisha said. “Let's get closer. I think I have to hold your hands.”

The two tried to unlock any of the other abilities but the path to their souls was far harder to open to each other. After an hour with no results they knew they could not wait any longer. The Chaos Land were calling and they had to find Joha. Tanisha packed the last of her supplies between her two storage items and Bjorn’s armored harness which they had repaired after he was attacked by the werewolves. They were fully stocked for the journey ahead.

“The analysis is done, go ahead and look at your communed skill.” Failsafe said, his voice beaming with pride.

“You’re getting faster,” Bjorn responded.

“Oh you noticed,” Failsafe said. “Well ever since I got to see the inside of that Angel Core some things have been way easier to analyze. It feels like I have relearned something essential to my function. Both of us lost our memories, remember?”

Air Claws

You have felt the aerokinetic energies your master commands through their mastery you have gained insight into the working of magic. Focusing this power into your claws increases the range of slashing attacks. Cause blades of aerokinetic magic to cut your enemies down. As this is a shared natural ability you can not level this ability by any means but through communing with your master. This ability is tied to your master, should your master die or reject your bond you must reclaim her soul or you will lose this ability.

Aetheric Scales

You have felt the power of your master’s aura and mantle and embraced the influence of the chain breaker. The power you felt now resides within you. Call forth the power that defends you from harm. Harden your scales with the aetheric touch. As this is a shared natural ability you can not level this ability by any means but through communing with your master. This ability is tied to your master, should your master die or reject your bond you must reclaim her soul or you will lose this ability.

Hydromancy

Commune with your master to unlock.

Water Light

Commune with your master to unlock.

Hydro-breath

Commune with your master to unlock.

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“The ability is a good one.” Bjorn said while following Tanisha out of the tent. “I wonder if I can combine it with Poison Claw and make some kind of slicing poisonous wind.”

“You can double cast, although it does cause us to over heat quite badly.” Failsafe said. “I think  this body is still too young to do it twice and sustain the effects. The new ability is also connected to you but not your own power. That might be the reason you can’t learn more than one at a time. It has to acclimate to your soul first.”

“Makes sense.” Bjorn said. “Well I am sure we will have plenty of time to find out in the Chaos Lands.”

“I should add the points I got from the battle over the past few days.” Tanisha said the tone took on a subdued feeling. “I am level forty-four now but haven’t assigned anything yet. I was going to go over it with Joha, but well, I still have a day, we can go over it tonight right, Big Man?”

***

Tanisha saw Fuyumi as they rounded the last tent in the large collective of temporary housing for the Border Guards. She was sitting on a log at a dying campfire drinking something from a wooden cup. She was looking away and talking to someone just out of sight. It wasn’t until the small campsite was fully in view did she see who. It was an elven man? Teenager? Tanisha honestly couldn’t tell he looked to be about the same age as her.

He stood tall to Fuyumi’s side, long dark hair flowed freely over his shoulders, its deep hues caught the light in subtle, earthy tones, and framed a face marked by striking, angular features. He had high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and elegantly pointed ears which were the hallmarks of his elven heritage. He actually looked quite beautiful, not what she was expecting at all from her bodyguard. 

What really caught her attention was the elf’s armor. What first appeared to be cloth and metal turned out to be crafted from monster materials, adorned with blues, golds, and whites. White fur from a fell monster lined the edges of his cloak and shoulders and strapped across his chest, pouches and polished leather straps hold mysterious tools, each one as meticulously placed as the rest of his ensemble, marking him as a traveler prepared for any path. A sword was sheathed at his side and a shield on his back.

Identify
Name: Aurelius Lyns
Species: Chaos Elf
Level: 45
Vocation: Chaos Sage Swordsman

Identify
Name: Fuyumi Tsukihana
Species: Yuki
Level: ??
Vocation: Walking Armory Mage

Tanisha stopped in her tracks once she saw the Identify information. Aurelius was a sage, she had never seen anyone else with that title. Sages were supposed to be rare, one appearing in a generation but Fuyumi is the daughter of a sage and this new person is apparently a sage too. Bjorn, beside her, tilted his heads with evident curiosity, studying the chaos elf intently.

Aurelius caught sight of them and smiled, speaking in fluent Muaian. “Ah, you must be her,” he said, nodding towards Tanisha. “Looks like it’s time to leave, then.”

“Guess so,” Fuyumi replied, standing up. “Hand Signe told me Joha’s changed course toward the Force Isles. If we start now, we’ll reach the southern pass before nightfall. We’ll need to set up camp early.”

Aurelius approached Tanisha, extending his hand. “Aurelius Lyns. I’m not too familiar with wendigo customs, but I’ve been helping people cross the Chaos Lands since I was old enough to hold a weapon.”

Tanisha reached to shake but stopped once he got close and she could feel his aura. It wasn’t like the aura of a person at all. She backed away on reflex, putting up her guard as if she were going to strike him. He put his arm up showing he had nothing in his hands and looked rather embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Aurelius said, his voice low and sheepish. “I thought I had it under control. My aura… well, it can feel like a monster’s sometimes. But I am not a monster I swear.”

Fuyumi walked over to the group. “He is an anomaly. My people have heard of him. The Chaos Elf is what most of the Yuki call him. Elves and goblins usually can not stay in the Chaos Lands for very long before getting changed by the chaotic energies.”

“For some reason, I’m different,” Aurelius explained. “I was raised by human nomads in the Chaos Lands. No one knew that an elf couldn’t live there safely. I was just a year old, and somehow, I survived. It’s been my home for seventeen years, and so far, I’m the only elf I know who can live in the Chaos Lands without… consequences.”

Tanisha’s posture relaxed, “Your people know of him?” she asked, glancing at Fuyumi.

Fuyumi nodded. “There aren’t many who call the Chaos Lands home. People like Aurelius tend to make a name for themselves. Even my brother’s encountered him once.”

With a slow breath, Tanisha dropped her guard entirely and extended her hand again. 

“Apologies, Aurelius. I’m Tanisha Scalebound, and this is Bjorn, my familiar.”

Aurelius’s hand closed around hers in a firm, respectful shake, his grip steady and his expression warm despite the earlier tension. 

“An honor, Tanisha. And Bjorn, of course.” Aurelius said with a smile. “Here’s to a smooth journey across the Chaos Lands.”

***

She screamed in pain—a scream that tore at her vocal cords, raw and guttural, an unending torrent like fire raging through her veins. It was an agony that went beyond pain, something ancient and primal. Then, suddenly, silence. She felt her body go numb, the pain extinguished so abruptly it left a void as chilling as the ache had been searing. In that absence, she realized she had to be dead. The last thing she remembered was the descending blade, the bardiche aimed to sever her head from her shoulders. She had expected terror in her final moments, but now, washed over with stillness, she felt an unexpected calm. The struggle was over, and she was ready to rest in the arms of the Forest Father.

Death didn't take her. Instead, a jolt of foreign power exploded through her, raw and invasive, ripping into her like a thousand talons clawing at her soul. Her body ignited with this energy, filling her with a perverse vitality that felt nothing like life. She was forced to breathe, her lungs heaving as if possessed. She felt her heart beat again, the pulse a mockery of her will. Her eyes opened of their own accord, her blurred vision clearing slowly as reality bled back into the forefront of her thoughts. The pain was gone, yet her body felt wrong, utterly wrong.

Strapped tightly to a table, her limbs pinned, she lay helpless. Her gaze darted around, only to be met with a horror that drove an icy spike through her being. Hundreds of metal arms hung above her, sharp, surgical, and drenched in fresh blood. They were the hands of a thousand surgeons, working with inhuman precision, peeling back her skin in thin, white-red ribbons. She watched as they excised parts of her flesh, callously lifting pieces of her away. Organs she had never seen—raw, ruined yet still hers—were severed and discarded like garbage. In their place, the arms inserted cold, alien things that she could feel settling inside her, anchoring into the spaces her flesh had once occupied.

She tried to scream, to beg them to stop, but she couldn’t. She realized with a cold, unyielding horror that her throat was gone. Only empty silence greeted her, echoing in her mind as the machines continued their work, indifferent. Shadows fell over her as the arms shifted, bringing strange tools closer to her face. The gleaming metal hovered over her eyes, blades drawing close with calm precision, and darkness consumed her once more.

Blindness was no reprieve. She floated in a void, aware yet unseeing, consciousness locked in an endless black. For how long, she didn’t know.  Then, with brutal suddenness, a light blazed directly into her eyes, searing her vision into clarity. She blinked, disoriented, as the world around her came into sharp focus. Everything looked different, sharper, painfully clear, even down to the faint shimmer of mana dancing in the air. The mechanical arms that had violated her were gone, disappearing into a ceiling that was sterile and white. She lifted a hand to shield herself from the light—and froze.

It wasn’t her hand. Her own familiar flesh was gone, replaced by a sleek, ivory metal, veins of green energy pulsing beneath the surface. She clenched her fingers, feeling the strange weight of her new limbs. They moved obediently, but felt foreign, as if her soul hovered just above them, unable to fully connect with what they had become.

She sat up, eyes raking over her body, and bile rose in her throat, a memory of nausea that her altered body no longer obeyed. Her naked form was no longer hers. She was encased in a gleaming, unnatural armor—smooth, seamless metal that caught the light in a ghostly, almost ethereal way. Arcane symbols etched her limbs, patterns she couldn’t recognize, markings that might as well have been carved into her very soul.

A flood of information surged into her mind, words and symbols that slotted into her consciousness without her consent. Terms she had never known now held strange, clinical meaning. “Cybernetic,” “synthetic,” “flesh graft”—the foreign words coiled around her brain like wires burrowing into her thoughts. She reached for her face, dreading what she would feel, but she had to know. Her fingers touched a cold, smooth mask. Her skin was gone, her identity replaced by this lifeless, sterile facade.

Kara clawed frantically at the metal surface hoping to peel it back like a terrible mask, to awaken from this nightmare. Her new body moved stiffly, every frantic movement a betrayal, her own flesh now unrecognizable. She wanted to cry, to weep freely, but her eyes remained dry, cold and mechanical. Even the act of shivering felt alien, more like a stuttering twitch than a natural response. Her body was gone, and it had taken her humanity with it. 

A presence stirred behind her, a force so immense that her very soul trembled. She turned, her stiff, foreign limbs obeying, and froze. Before her stood a towering figure—a being whose appearance her mind could scarcely comprehend, yet her spirit knew with bone-deep certainty. Her soul recognized him instantly, a reflexive urge to bow coursing through her like static. This being, like her, was clad in metal, a hollow echo of life forced into a vessel of steel and magic. She fell to the ground, pressing herself to the cold floor, unable to resist.

“I see that you live, child,” the figure intoned, his voice like the rustle of ancient trees and the hum of distant stars. It echoed through her, a cosmic murmur. “Good. I needed one who has tasted the magic of the Hydra and the Cernunnos.”

Kara’s voice trembled, a feeble whisper trapped in a lifeless throat. “Wh-who are you?”

The being’s gaze bore into her, peeling back layers of fear and shock. “What does your soul say, Kara?” he asked, his tone both a command and a challenge.

Her voice came as a whisper, reverent and afraid. “Forest Father... Creator… Odin.”

A smile—if it could be called that—touched the figure’s face, a faint tilt in the rigid metal. “So you do know your creator, then.” He moved with a strange, robotic precision around her, observing her like an artist appraising unfinished work. “Things are in motion, and I need my ravens once more. The child of cursed Hydras has brought the attention of the Higher Planes upon this Plane. Soon, they will war for what is rightfully mine. I have stripped you of all that made you… defective. You shall be my raven, my watcher. Guard my prize until she is ready to be taken.”

The Forest Father reached down, gripping her by the head, his hand cold and immense, easily lifting her as if she were weightless. Power surged through her, pouring in like molten iron, filling every crevice of her synthetic being. His eyes met hers, a vast, chilling emptiness devoid of warmth. There was no affection there, no compassion—only duty, distant and absolute. She had imagined the Forest Father as a nurturing spirit, a lord of wild beauty and fierce life, but now she saw something far different, something corrupted and twisted by machinery, reliant on it, just as she was. She knew he hated it as she did, as she would.

Her gaze dropped as her body began to shift beneath his touch. Flesh, synthetic yet eerily lifelike, spread over the metal frame, a faint peach glow softening her once-bare metal limbs. Her new body was something between flesh and machine, an unsettling blend that erased every trace of the person she once was.

“Kara no longer,” the Forest Father decreed. “You are Muninn now. You are my Will made manifest.”

With a final, searing pulse of energy, he released her, letting her stand on her new legs, her body restored yet irreversibly changed. The Forest Father looked down at her, his eyes cold and distant. 

“Go, my greater druid, go my Hrafn,” he commanded. “Fulfill your purpose.”