Shades of Grey

JZASACH— DECEMBER 1843

Through the renovations and resurgence that followed that particular transformation, the resilient people of Jzasach soon came to accept me and understood that I was there to help. After a a period of mourning and healing for the Hallingtons, Farrah and I became friends and I found myself wishing that I did not have to ever leave the beautiful city. Forma felt the same.

“I’m finding that I quite like this city. If, perchance, we ever retire, can we come here?” she asked me one day as we walked with Farrah down to the grocers. I laughed.

“Sure. If we ever retire, we will come here.”

The people had learned to adapt well over centuries of transformations. The damage from the preceding change was scarcely perceptible, save for a few mangled columns and broken door hinges. The people had even seemed to heal significantly from the horrors of the previous moon, returning slowly and assuredly to their daily lives.

“This has been the fastest restoration I have ever seen,” I marvelled as we entered the grocery shoppe. Farrah smiled.

“Yes, we’ve learned many deterrent practices to prevent grave amounts of damage,” she said as she began smelling and testing the ripeness of various fruits.

“I should expect so after so many years,” I replied, marvelling at the apparent lack of damage on the doors to the shoppe.

As we followed Farrah through the store while she tested certain foods for freshness and examined others for blemishes, Forma and I felt gloriously normal, almost as though I did not have to stay out of the safe room tonight while the men changed into beasts that I had been trained to kill.

Almost.

As we left the grocers a couple of hours later, a large group of children suddenly approached Forma, chattering in enthusiasm.

“Can you change into anything?”

“Are you magic?”

“What’s your name?”

“Where did you come from?”

Forma looked beleaguered for a minute until several parents approached us after, contrite annoyance written in their eyes.

“I’m sorry about this, we’ll take them off your hands,” said a mother with golden curls. She grabbed the hand of a small boy with curls equally as fair. “Come, William. Let’s not bother this nice lady.”

“But mother, I want to see her change!” The boy began struggling and Forma relented, seeing that the children would not be fulfilled until she had transformed and the parents would not be happy until their children would leave freely. She sighed.

“What would you like to see, children?” she said in a voice of artificial enthusiasm adults characteristically exercise around children.

“A Magorgian Beast!” cried the golden-haired boy.

Forma stood tall and began to change: growing at least five times in size as her skin grew scalier and her arms became long, thin wings with large claw-like hands at the ends. The children stepped back in amazement, never letting their eyes stray from her. When she was finished, they clapped raucously.

“Now change into a Blacklight Dragon!” cried a red haired girl.

Forma obeyed and blew a stream of black fire into the air when she had finished, to the delight and entertainment of several passers by. Farrah and I laughed at her theatrics as she turned around and knelt, staring at the children expectantly after they did not move.

“She’s offering you a ride, children,” I pressed. They gasped in enchantment, turning to their mothers with beseeching eyes.

“Is it safe?” asked the mother of the red haired girl.

“As long as Forma does not do anything terribly stupid in the air and I know she won’t,”— I looked at her with commanding eyes and she nodded her great head in concurrence — “then it is completely safe,” I assured the mother.

The mothers looked at each other and grudgingly nodded. The children screamed in delight and climbed onto Forma’s back, holding onto each other in eagerness.

“Hold on tight!” I told the children as Forma began flapping her great wings. The children then laughed as she took flight, soaring just over the city and out of sight behind several buildings. Farrah turned to me.

“Will she know the way home?”

“Yes. She can find me no matter how far away I am,” I replied.

“Good because you need to prepare for tonight.”

And with a single sentence, Farrah ended my joy and reminded me of my solemn, inescapable duty.