Hearing Voices

[Loxiel]

Loxiel looked down at the packed meal Mistress Karya had prepared for him. “All these wanderings in the jungle will do you know good if you fade away to nothing! You need to eat more, Lox.” She had said, the night befpre after enquiring on what he would be doing the next day. When he told her he was, once again, going off into the deep jungle exploring, she had begun her lecture. “And I know you can hunt and eat when you’re in your animal form, but those forms are small, and they won’t fill you properly if all you eat is a rodent or two per day. You’re skin and bones! I’ll have something made up ready for you to take out.”

It was a question shifters often got asked: what happens to your clothes when you change forms? Well, Loxiel had been brought up by Elves and Fae, mostly. Other shifters were rare, even in Ajteire, and they had shown no interest in teaching him. But what he had learned, mostly through trial and error, was that you seemed to be able to absorb a certain amount of attire when you shifted, but there were limits. He could shift most easiest if he were naked … but he wasn’t about to start walking around without clothes, so he tried to keep one his person, just enough so that he could shift easily and without too much effort. More advanced and older shifters could absorb lots more than he. Mostly he just had his clothes, scarf, dagger and whatever small wrapped cheese and meat he could put in his pockets.

But mostly, when he was out, he relied on the forest to provide. Be that in fruit he found along the way, or in the catching and eating of prey when he was in hawk or cat forms. Mistress Karya was right; the food he was getting by on was not really doing much in the way of his gaining any weight, and he needed the energy for shifting and training, but if he took a bag, he would have to walk, and that would mean he would be limited as to how far from the city he could go.

In the months since Inya had trained him, he had gone out almost every day. One day he would go exploring, the next bringing game back for the kitchens, then back to exploring the day after. It was his routine, now.

He picked up the packed meal and put it under his bed, draping a shirt over it. He knew well that the mistress might be correct, but he had explored as much as he could in walking distance around the city, and he needed to go -further-. Today would be the day he added a bit of extra distance, to see if the jungle held any secrets, and was willing to give them up.

***

As usual, Loxiel felt the thrill of excitement as he passed the invisible line of familiarity, and moved into a stretch of new forest. He hoped his expeditions would yield something! Some ancient Fae ruin, perhaps? Maybe he would stumble across an ancient Elven burial ground? Maybe he would find some long lost treasure?

“And maybe you’ll wind up getting eaten,” Mistress Karya had pointed out.

Spying an opening in the vast forest canopy, Loxiel dipped his wings, swooping down, then letting his forked tail spread and wings thrust forward. Just above the clearing, he hovered, his eyes darting this way and that. It is always prudent to watch out for any danger before coming to a rest, and when he was sure there wasn’t anything that might want to eat him, Loxiel dipped again, and was soon perched on a tree branch, taking another look before dropping to the floor.

As he shifted back into his human-form, Loxiel stretched out his arms and legs. The flight had been easy; he had just ridden the currents and had barely had to beat his wings to keep him aloft. Being in a fixed flight for so long could make one a little stiff, so he let himself have a rest while he looked around.

Though he hadn’t really expected to find any, Loxiel still gave a small sigh, disappointed that he had not accidentally stumbled across something marvellous. Still; the whole day was before him, and you never knew!

***

Loxiel’s cat eyes were black as his pupils were fully dilated, fixed upon his target. His back legs quivered in anticipation, and he had to stop himself from flicking his tail as adrenaline coursed through his feline body. When his quarry, who had stopped nibbling at the berries it had found and was carefully looking around him, now continued to eat, Loxiel let his legs hurl him forward, as if he had been a tightly wound spring.

Success.

He ate hungrily, though always popped his head up and scanned his surroundings for any potential threats. He had found that he needed to stay in his form to eat his prey raw, like this. The instinct of the animal took over, in this regard, and he could eat happily. Once he had shifted back, the thought of eating anything like that was enough to turn his stomach.

Mindful of Mistress Karya’s words; he made sure to scrounge fruit wherever he could find it, and doubled the amount of hunts he did.

Loxiel enjoyed his cat-form. It was easier to be a hawk, and he thought to himself that he would always identify most with that form, but creeping through the jungle on silent paws brought great satisfaction. The more he learned, the more he did, the better he got. He would master this form soon, with enough practice.

As he padded through the trees, the sound of running water caught his ears, and he suddenly felt thirsty. The thought of drinking cool, sweet water in the cloying heat of the jungle made his mouth feel bone dry, and so he picked up the pace and made his way to it.

What Loxiel thought would have been a stream, actually turned out to be a small waterfall. The cliff rose only a small height, so the noise was not overwhelming at all, but rather quite beautiful. When he arrived, he crept slowly out of the brush, his tufted ears turning this way and that, and then made for the pool at the waterfall’s base.

Places with water attracted all sorts of animals, and so he stayed in cat-form while he lapped up the water. Occasionally some animal would come along to drink, just as he; none of them he needed to worry about, though he always watched warily. In fact, he chose to spend a little time watching the comings and goings. There were monkeys, a small group of wild pigs, and even a strange looking grey creature that looked like it was wearing scaled armour! He wasn’t studying them for he had no desire to be any of these creatures, but it was pleasant to watch. He sat in a little patch of sunlight, warm and cosy, lulled by the gentle splashing of the waterfall, and the rustling of the leaves.

***

With a groan, Loxiel lifted his head from the mossy forest floor, and blinked, looking around him with a sigh of irritation. He had fallen asleep, his form reverting back to human-like. ‘Idiot’. He told himself.

The moon was bright enough to let him see around, and all seemed quiet. Getting to his feet, he rubbed his sore neck and tried to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. He didn’t have any food, so instead scooped up handfuls of water from the pool to fill his belly.

After he had drank his fill, he sat back, is head spinning a little. Why was he so dizzy?

The young Changeling shook his head, and tried to order his thoughts to settle down. His mind seemed to be buzzing, and even his vision was a bit blurred. ‘I’m just hungry’, he told himself. Then, walked round the stream and headed off.

***

By the time Loxiel realised he was walking the wrong way, he could not longer hear the waterfall, and he could not have even guessed at what direction he had been going in. He stopped pushing through the branches, and stood, trying to get his bearings.

Then he heard it; -whispers-.

Quiet voices speaking words that he could not make out. What was even more strange, is that Loxiel didn’t feel scared by this. Maybe unnerved, but also … curious.

As stupid as it was, something -compelled- him to seek out those whispers. And so, going in the exact wrong direction that would take him home, Loxiel continued onward, following the soft, gentle voices that played like a sweet, sad song in his head.

***

The clearing was like something out of a story book.

As if competing, the moonlight and the flickering warm glow of fireflies greeted him as he stepped out of the heavy brush. The trees that surrounded the clearing seemed different, somehow. Almost … older. And right in front of him, was a tree so large and thick that it looked like it was from a whole new forest, one ancient and forbidden. The fireflies danced around it.

Loxiel stepped forward, as if in a trance; with every step the voices seemed to be louder, clearer. Finally, when he stood looking at gnarled and heavy tree, he reached out and placed his palms on the think, rough trunk.

And that’s when the voices became clear ...

[NPC]

On the right side of the tree, two other trees leaned against Loxiel's chosen as if connected. It was not clear why Loxiel selected the left tree rather than the middle or right most tree, but this agent of nature had called out to the young Shifter - literally. Though Loxiel was unable to produce magic of his own, a reaction occurred beneath his hands and the form of the tree began to twist and shape occasionally whispering his name. After a few moments, the tree resembled the form of a woman, curved but still layered with rough bark. A tender branch swooped down, leaves and vines brushing against Loxiel's face.

"Dear... sweet Loxiel..."

A firefly landed on the tip of Loxiel's nose, watching the tree as it took personification of something that the boy was more familiar with. Loxiel may have been too entranced to swat the little bug away.

"Lost and lonely again... and again... and again... and again..."

The tree shuddered, leaves falling from the branches as it struggled to complete the message.

"But do remember, those who leave us... never truly... leave us..."

Before Loxiel might respond or ask questions, a cyclone of leaves and wind wrapped around the Shifter, lifting him a foot or two off his feet. In this embrace with the elements, the tree that reached out to Loxiel became nothing more than a tree again, losing its feminine-like figure. As the gale began to dissipate, gently placing Loxiel on his feet, there was a distant sound to be heard in the wind - familiar and beloved to Loxiel. There was the cry of a hawk, which also faded, and then everything was seemingly normal again.

Or at least, as normal as things could be in the Ninraih jungles.

[Loxiel]

Loxiel was frozen to the spot as the words now became clear to him. He wasn't afraid ... but there was something unsettling about the voice ... as well as caring and kind. The Changeling felt completely conflicted as he listened.

When the ethereal voice said the word 'lonely', over and over, his eyes pricked with tears. It struck something deep within him. Loxiel had never thought of himself as lonely ... or perhaps he had just denied it to himself. But the voice was right; he had no friends, no family. Even the animal forms he took were solitary creatures. Maybe he chose them because that's what he was used to: being alone.

He gasped as he was lifted off his feet, and the tears that had blurred his vision, now ran freely down his face as he heard the voice of his mother, singing softly to him. It was a memory he never even knew he had. How was he hearing this? How was it that he could remember something from such a young age? What magic was this?

The lullaby ended with the keen cry of the hawk, as Loxiel's body was gently put back to the earth. He dropped to his knees as the voices and singing faded. For a time, he cried like he had not done so since he was a tiny youngling. It was sadness, but it was also something else. The voices had given him a gift that he would be thankful for until the day he died; the voice of his mother, long forgotten.

"Thank you." He whispered, to the cool night air.

He stayed there, for a time. He felt safe, as if the dangers of evil creatures and vile undead would not dare encroach upon this sacred ground.

When dawn came, Loxiel got to his feet, bowed his head in the direction of the three trees, trying to convey his gratitude, and shifted into his hawk form. With a beat of his wings, he made his way home, riding the currents. Whatever magic that grove held, it was potent and old. He even realised, as he rode the currents back to Ajteire, that he couldn't seem to bring up the location in his mind. He knew that he would never see that sacred glade again. He had had his time.

And Loxiel would be eternally grateful for it.