Poisonous Fox

The book began to glow with blues and red wisps of light.

Unfortunately, other than the vague instructions passed on by Emboru, I had little knowledge of what was supposed to happen. Was I supposed to open the book, to read it? The last time I checked, the pages were all blank. Was the book even meant to be opened?

Meanwhile, the tones from the crystal became a solid red, and the glow increased, until I worried that the light would be visible from a distance.

Drawing predators or bandits, or something worse, would be far from optimal. Deciding to obfuscate, I pulled off my jacket and threw it over the grimoire.

However, the glow did not abate. Instead, it continued, as though nothing stood between the book and the night sky. It was comparable to a lit fire, and with the increasing light, I worried I would soon be revealed.

I tried removing the crystal knife from the grimoire’s cover, but it was well and truly stuck. My fingers slipped along the sharp edge and left a slick trail of blood.

Unfortunate.

The light’s intensity was increasing.

Either I needed to flee, cut my losses. Or, I needed to address the issue. Were this light caused by anything else besides this grimoire, I would have fled. But, I had paid too dearly for this opportunity. Abandoning it now, on the cusp of success, would be folly.

Thus, I began tossing slate rocks atop it.

Bizarrely, the light continued to intensify, regardless of whatever I covered it with.

At my wits end, I used my own body, throwing myself over the pile, where the glow came most strongly.

It was warm and cold and left me sweating wherever it touched. But the glow ended where I touched.

The temperature continued spiking, too hot, too cold, even hotter, even colder, until I thought I could bear it no longer.

I clenched my eyes closed tightly.

Pressure grew, as though I was held firmly. I almost thought I was lifted up once more, carried once more.

I heard voices. They were speaking. Mumbling. Too far, too distant.

Was that… English?

No. It was something else. I knew English.

The conversation ended, and I was left drifting in a foggy haze.

This was not natural.

Something had gone very wrong.

I tried moving, fearing the worst.

My limbs did not respond. Was I paralyzed? No, I still felt. Was I bound? Not that I could tell. I tried inching along, but I could not tell which way was down.

A presence approached, a shadow, an imprint. Without vision, I saw. Without hearing, I heard. I could catch hints of their musk.

What was this madness?

The presence spoke, they were male, with a voice at once smooth and rough. Come to think of it, I could not be sure the voice was male. Or, what language they spoke. But understood them, I did.

“Tribute… accepted.”

Tribute? I wanted to ask. But my lips failed to move.

The voice responded all the same, as if they had heard me speak.

“A life claimed. A spirit offered. What favor is sought?”

What I sought?

The entire purpose of this was to claim a Spell that would allow me to disguise myself as a human. Did the grimoire not know, or did I need to communicate that in some fashion. I focused on that idea as far as I could. I needed a disguise. Well, no. What I actually wanted was to be human again. A disguise implied I was still this furry humanoid underneath.

“Seeking a Spell to Alter Self… Desire for freedom of choice, strength of action… finality of resolution?”

The way they spoke, it implied that only one of those three could be chosen. Each word came laden with additional meanings, at least, that seemed their intent. However, much was left unsaid, unknown. Such as the original Spell to alter self. Was that what I had asked for? To take a human shape? I hoped yes, but had no way to confirm.

And then of the three choices, what did they mean?

Freedom was always welcome, and would expand my options. But so would strength. However, I needed context of what those meant in order to understand more. Afterall, the strong often had freedom, and some could say that service brought freedom.

The only option I could make sense of was finality of resolution, as it seemed to imply the scale of time.

And even then, I was unsure.

What do you mean? I tried to communicate, but in vain.

“Choose, or chosen for you.”

How could I choose when the options were unclear?!

The voice did not respond, but I could feel the timer running out. My stress was ramping up. My heart beating faster and faster. I needed to choose. The walls were closing in. But that made no sense! What was this… a panic attack? But… why?

“Choose!”

I blurted the only option that might have made sense.

Resolution.

“So chosen. So given.”

Every follicle of hair erupted in fire. My spine froze and crackled as vertebrae popped. My nose twisted and tore. Wordlessly, soundlessly, I howled into the dark.

Spell Gained: Guise of the Kitsune: 1/9

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9):

Climbing I (2/9)

Featherlight I (2/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Stealth I (5/9)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (3/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver (6/9)

Evasion (6/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (1/9)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)