Forgotten

Even though the two survivors had long since disappeared, Aperio still stood rooted in place. She wasn’t quite sure what she should feel. Remorse for killing the two mages? Relief that they were gone? Happiness that she finally understood something? Or hate because they tried to force their will on her?

Shaking her head in an effort to clear her mind, her eyes landed on the necklace. Lying discarded on the ground it looked so innocent; nobody would have guessed that it was the reason the two Humans had died. Inching closer to get a better view of it she noticed tiny runes etched into its shiny surface and, like the ward previously, they seemed to dislike her presence as they glowed a bit brighter the closer she got towards the discarded accessory. While most of the runes meant nothing to her, she did recognize two that had been present on her old collar. 

[Master] and [Disciple].

Seeing her suspicions confirmed she took great care not to get too close to this new version of the collar. Who knows what that thing can do now. She shivered, and decided to simply ignore the potentially dangerous tool for now. Instead she directed her attention to the two mages. Or, rather, what was left of them. One was an unrecognizable mess of cloth and flesh while the other sported a new fist-sized hole.

How she had achieved this was not something she knew. It obviously had something to do with the changes that happened in the Void, but Aperio never expected them to be this drastic. If she was completely honest with herself she still didn't really expect them to be real in the first place, but this encounter was definitive proof she had changed. Throwing an adult Human hard enough into a wall to reduce him to mush was definitely not normal nor something she should be able to do.

A look at her own blood-splattered arm showed nothing out of the ordinary, besides perhaps the healthy fullness of her flesh. She balled her hand into a fist a few times, just to make sure that it was indeed her own and not someone else's, but even when she saw, and felt, how the muscled shifted beneath her skin it just didn’t seem real. A lifetime’s worth of wounds simply erased after being killed just didn’t make much sense. 

But then again, not much of what had happened recently made sense. Turning her head and seeing the destroyed door and wall brought a small smile to her face. It doesn't have to make sense for me to enjoy my new self.

The destruction she had caused brought another question to the front of her thoughts. Why did the ward break? She just gave it a light kick, something she had done countless times before. She, nor anyone else she had ever heard of, had ever been able to break a ward with such ease. The few times she had been able to observe someone actually breaking one had always caused great strain on the one doing it or required them to use some very specialized tools. 

The potential slave collar, too, had reacted to her presence, and with reluctance she shifted her attention back towards it. Taking a step in its direction caused the runes engraved on it to glow fiercely, seemingly trying to burn themselves deeper into the metal that hosted them.

Another step and the fine lines connecting the individual parts of the enchantment flared to life with the same intangible blue light that she had observed during her previous outburst. A final step brought her close enough to bend down and touch the necklace but, while a part of her wanted to see what would happen to the runes, she couldn’t bring herself to actually do it. 

No matter how small or innocent it looked, to her it would always be a reminder of her past. Forced to spend her entire life shackled; forced to watch her body perform without her consent. No matter how much the Void had changed her, this was not something she could simply forget. Something else would be needed to conduct the test with; this contraption had to be removed from this world.

A thought later something within her stirred. The feeling that accompanied was eerily similar to what she had felt during some of the experiments that she had been forced to participate in, but the pain and the unshakeable feeling of being torn apart that usually followed soon after were absent. Instead a pleasant warmth flowed through her body towards her hand. Once the last bit of warmth had reached its target, she uncurled her fingers and a small flickering blue flame came to life in her palm.

While the flame looked like the one she had summoned in the Void, the process to do so felt vastly different. What she had felt had to have been the mana flowing through her, rushing to her bidding. That had not happened in that black nothing; there she willed it to exist and it simply did. Neither did she feel anything similar when she had rid the world of that slaving crystal and its misty ally.

Maybe I was too angry to notice before?

It is said that anger clouded the mind, but such a thing had never happened to her before. Come to think of it, had she ever really had the proper amount of anger in regards to her situation? Frustration, yes, and displeasure, but outright fury? Was the collar always meddling in my emotions? 

A surge of anger caused the fire in her palm to grow in size and flicker almost uncontrollably. The thought was deeply unpleasant, especially now that she stood right next to one of these things again. Taking a deep breath to calm herself caused the flame to simmer down. She would have to remind herself that she was free now. Nothing would dictate what she wanted to do.

Resolved to remove this stain from the world she willed the flame to grow bigger and hotter, to become the flame that would cleanse the world of this filth. Soon the warm rush of the mana within her was drowned out by the heat coming off of the blue ball of fire in her hand.

Once it was too hot for her to hold, she simply threw it on the shiny necklace.

Die.

Dropping a ball of fire right at your feet might be considered a stupid idea by most, especially if the last one you had made had exploded rather violently, but that thought didn’t cross Aperio’s mind; she simply ....knew that it wouldn’t harm her. Just another thing that didn’t make sense to add to her ever-growing list. Eventually, she was sure, she'd manage to solve all of these mysteries that kept piling up.

Once the flame made contact with its target it flared briefly before winking out of existence, taking the necklace with it. What? Aperio tilted her head to the side. This was not what she expected to happen; the metal should have melted, or otherwise just become unusable. It should not simply cease to exist. The fire, too, seemed to be determined to not adhere to common sense as it did not leave a mark of any sort on the floor. Instead it had simply touched the thing and disappeared without a trace.

She wasn’t sure how she should feel about all of this. On the one hand, being able to defend herself was a very welcome change. She would even go as far as to say that it felt good, but on the other hand, not knowing what you were capable of doing was scary. More so when something deep within you simply knew, with absolute certainty, that no harm would come to you from your own actions. She had had a similar feeling when she thought about stopping the sword of the armoured giant with her hand, but back then a more rational part of her mind had prevailed. 

She would have to make sure to listen to that part of herself more often; doing things simply because they felt right seemed to be stepping towards eventual disaster.

The armour-clad giant presented another conundrum. It had used the name of a God that no longer existed, or at least one that no longer cared about this world. Aperio herself had prayed to both Vigil and Inanis for salvation a great many times in her younger years. Neither of them had responded, but that was to be expected. Nobody ever got a sign from any God. So why would someone or something – she still wasn’t sure if it was a Human or not – use a God in their chant? Maybe the giant was a particularly devout believer. Or maybe, unlikely as the thought was, the Gods had somehow returned while she was away.

How long was I gone for anyway? The elapsed time since the Empire's ritual felt quite brief, and yet it also carried the weight of what seemed like multiple lifetimes …Why does nothing make sense?  Heaving a sigh and slumping her shoulders she returned her attention to the spot her two adversaries had last occupied.  

It would have been nice if she could have questioned the walking hunk of metal, but that would have required overcoming the hurdle of learning an entire language. Upon further reflection, Aperio didn't think that either of them would have tried too hard at that. It made a certain amount of sense; she too would have had no desire to learn to talk to someone who had just killed her own friends. In addition to that, their friend did try to force that wretched thing around her neck, so she didn't feel wholeheartedly inclined to talk with them either. Death would be the only thing for them should they cross paths again.

The more she thought about the attack the more questions she had, a theme Aperio did not like whatsoever. Why was the armoured giant so slow? She had watched the Royal Guard fight in full plate armour and they were faster than she could see. Something else that had changed. Was it the world, or was it herself? She found herself settling on the answer that had at first seemed the least likely: Whatever had happened in the Void had irrevocably changed her. The alterations to her person were so far-reaching that she had trouble telling where the old her ended and the new one began.

She took the yawning worry that began to grow within her and set it aside for the moment. There were other, more important things, to be concerned about. Most couldn't be addressed at this time, but there was one thing that she could most certainly do. A few steps brought her to the corpse of the grey-robed mage; his robe was definitely in a better condition than the other. The jewelry and other trinkets that he had carried were of little interest to her, much like the fleshy mound that once was the blue mage, and the recollection that jewelry could have runes on it had her opting to ignore and avoid them outright. 

Stripping the body of its robe was harder than she had originally thought it would be but, after a short struggle, she managed to wrangle it free from its previous owner while adding only a few more tears. Sadly, the robe was the only usable piece of clothing; the man’s shoes were simply too big for her and she definitely did not want to reuse his undergarments.

As she tried to put the robe on another problem came to light, one she should have seen coming. Wings and clothes did not go well together. Sliding her arm back out of the fabric, she held it in front of her and examined the problem. Getting the robe to properly fit would require some creative use of force. A bit of tearing later, the previously very modest one-piece robe looked a lot more like a backless dress.

Coaxing her newest assets through the hole she made was not easy nor comfortable, but the small moment of discomfort was an acceptable tradeoff for something to wear. Being naked was fine, but not something she wanted to be for the rest of her life. Sadly, her newly acquired clothes were little better than the ones she used to wear. All things considered, they were probably worse. They might have been nothing more than rags meant for slaves, but at least they were blood-free. The times she had gotten blood or other filth on them, she was always encouraged to get herself a clean rag to wear. Nobody wanted a dirty slave walking around. But, having acquired this modified robe by herself, she found herself liking it a lot more. 

Enjoying the soft, albeit wet, warmth of cloth on her skin, Aperio set her sights on the book the blue-robed mage had used and a few quick steps brought her to the now ownerless ledger. It looked fairly ordinary when compared to tomes she used to tend to. A lot lighter as well, though she was fairly certain that had little to do with the actual object.

Leafing through the pages revealed a great many intricate drawings of various wards and rituals. She did recognise a few of the more commonly used ones, though most of what was written remained a mystery. The notes the deceased owner had scribbled in the margins were written in a script that did bear resemblance to the Common she was familiar with but was just different enough that she could not glean any meaning from it. She could take a guess as to what was written, but guesswork and other people’s magic usually lead to disaster.

Putting her rightfully plundered treasure in one of the still intact pockets of her robe, she made her way to the only other door in the room. This time there was nobody that could interrupt her.

This door and its surrounding walls – much like the last one Aperio was confronted with – had a ward engraved on it. Quite unlike the previous one, this ward was meant to keep things outside; much like the ones on the Imperial mages quarters. As she approached, the runes began to glow. Clearly, the purpose of the ward had very little to do with the way it reacted to her presence.

Stretching out her arm to touch the door caused the runes to shine brightly and seemingly etch themselves even deeper into the wood and stone. Once her fingers touched the wall she was surprised to feel nothing other than the rough surface against her skin. Applying a little bit of pressure caused the stone to groan as if it was under some great strain.

So are wards weak against me? That could be troublesome. 

Entering any city would usually require you to pass by their protective wards. If they all reacted like this she would be hard pressed to get inside. Without drawing unwanted attention, at least.

With that thought, she approached a stretch of wall that showed no signs of runes or other magic tempering. Pressing her hand against the stone wall and pushing a bit did result in a gnashing sound, albeit much quieter than what she had gotten from the ward-bearing wall. Having confirmed that wards did indeed, for reasons unknown, make things weaker to her she had one thing left to test. 

Drawing her arm back and balling her hand into a fist, she punched the wall as hard as she could. Some might say that this was a stupid idea, and they would be right, but in this moment Aperio chose to trust the newly found instinct that told her with absolute certainty that nothing bad would happen.

As soon as her fist made contact with the wall a sound almost as loud as the explosion she had caused not long ago filled the room and, a moment later, her arm was buried elbow deep in the stone. A wide grin spread across her face. This was fun.

I might not be a divine, but I am very sure I’m not a normal Elf anymore.

Not giving in to the urge to think about what she might have become, she simply extracted her arm from the wall and made a beeline for the door. She only slowed down briefly to give it a vigorous kick, causing the wood to burst into a multitude of tiny fragments that spread themselves in the dimly-lit hallway that it had concealed.

Equipped with a new sense of confidence Aperio set out to leave. She had a life to live. Perhaps she'd meet some people she could actually talk to. Or, maybe, some that were in dire need of violence.