Metamorphosis: Worlds of Fire

Dedication

Thanks to Kelli A. Wilkins and June Diehl for their valuable feedback.

And, as always, thank you to my mom, Ruth Bailey, who always believed in me

Quote

There is light in darkness, you just have to find it.

- bell hooks

1 The Mentor

When Asira got to Magister Jaydon's office she stopped at the doorway and took in the scene. Papers, books, and jars covered the desks. At one of them, a man was using his stylus to write on the desktop.  This office wasn't as orderly as the others, and order was one thing that Alchemists insisted on.

Hello? She knocked on the door frame. Excuse me.

The Magister looked up. Asira Aut Teur? Come in. You can slide that chair over.

The only other chair in the room was next to the messiest desk. She rolled it over, wincing as the wheels squealed while she pulled the chair across the room.

She’d been hoping he'd choose her for his mentorship. It wasn't enough to be from one of the foremost families of Alchemists on the Floating World. She had to prove herself so that others would know she'd earned her place.

What do you know about transmutation? He asked as he tapped his stylus on the desk.

Asira dropped her backpack on the floor and sat in front of him. She'd had to meet with several potential mentors before being picked. It was necessary if she wanted to achieve a high standing at the university.

It's the process of changing one element to another and entails—

"Not the definition. What do you know of it?"

I've been studying here for twenty years. Since I was five years old, Magister. I chose transmutation as my major when I started the advanced classes, she said. This is my final exam before I move on to an apprenticeship. My uncle says—

I'm aware that you belong to one of the Aurum families and that most of your relatives have been admitted to the Golden Court, he said.

Of course, he did. Everyone did. That was a blessing and a curse. But she hadn't expected him to say it quite like that. Usually, people hinted at it or tried to ingratiate themselves with her while pretending not to know who she was.

Sir, I need a mentor to help me pass my transmutation exam. My uncle says you're a master at it. Nothing like throwing in a little praise. It might work to soften him up a bit.

First of all, don't call me by my title. Just call me, Jaydon. He dropped the stylus and sorted through the papers. And please don't call me, 'sir.' We're practically the same age.

Sorry, she said. Usually the instructors prefer it.

Obviously, the praise and deference weren't working out so well. Though she'd seen Jaydon around the complex from time to time, she'd never been in any of his classes.  But she did know he was the youngest person to be appointed a magister at the university, and one of the few gargoyle shifters to be invited to join the Golden Court.

You still didn't tell me what you know about transmutation. He set aside the papers and gave her his full attention. Why do you want me to mentor you in it?

Should she be honest about family pressures and her own reasons for wanting to pass the exam? She had been so used to giving the expected answer to her instructors. Alchemists loved unpredictability but only in experiments, not in people.

You're the expert in changing from one form to another, aren't you? I want—I mean my family wants to ensure that I follow the traditions. Not the best response she could have given, but certainly closer to the truth.

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the pile of papers. Family is important but so are personal desires. Transmutation is a metamorphosis that has to come from within first, he said. The formula can't change you unless you want to be changed.

This was not what she was expecting. Most Magisters didn't speak this way. They talked about formulas and elements and mixtures...how to measure this and weigh that. They invested their time in theory and study and reading old texts. What Jaydon was saying sounded a bit subversive – and she liked it.

I told the administrators that I didn't think transmutation could be safely done by students, no matter how advanced, he said. A lot of preparation is required.

I've written a paper on it. She picked up her backpack and riffled through it. I have it here. You can control your transmutation if you have the proper mix of—

He held up his hand. We can go over that later. I've seen your assessments. They're excellent.

She nodded in agreement, then realized that perhaps being humble was a better move. Thank you. I've worked hard.

I know. He leaned back in the chair, absently tapping his fingers on the desk.

She glanced at the desktop and noticed writing along the edges. Why didn't he use paper? He certainly had enough of it scattered everywhere. Parchment was usually preferred by the magisters, but they'd moved past using quills. That had been for show anyway. Students were more likely to have a tablet and a stylus than a pen and paper.

What is your target for your transmutation? he asked.

I'm open to whatever comes. As soon as she said it, she realized she should have said something else. This was not the way to make an impression on someone of his standing.

Jaydon’s eyebrows raised over his light brown eyes. This will be your first time, correct? I'm not sure that's the right approach.

Truth be told it was hard for her to imagine actually changing into something else. Even for a matter of hours. However, she did know that achieving it would be an automatic invitation to an apprenticeship in the Golden Court. From there she could keep advancing, which would make her family very happy.

Jaydon picked up his stylus and shoved it behind his ear. Continuing to study her, his brows furrowed as though he was having an internal conversation. Thinking things over with himself and not sharing his conclusions with her.

Sure, she was used to intense stares from the magisters. They used them as an intimidation tactic. It was part of their mystery to be imperious and detached, to only associate with others on their level or from a specific Order. You were either in the Court hierarchy or you weren't. Even the most advanced students didn't have that kind of clout, no matter what Aurum family they belonged to.

Are you sure you don't want to see my papers on the topic? Sitting there while he watched her was unnerving. Not that he was bad to look at, because he wasn't. His features were finely sculpted, and his wavy shoulder-length black hair framed his face so that his almond-shaped eyes and full lips were accentuated.

He shook his head in response to her question, his gaze still fixed on her.

A noise outside caught her attention. There was chirping coming from the open sliding glass door that led to the balcony. Another perk of magister mentors. Private offices and balconies overlooking the spice gardens.

Come in.

A small yellow bird flew in and perched on a shelf above one of the desks. It chirped and then turned its head to study her. Another chirp, then a turn of the head to the left and to the right.

What do you think? he asked.

Nice bird.

No, I was asking her.

You were what? She looked at him, then at the bird again, then at him. Does she talk?

Yes.

What does she say? She would go along with it for now. She'd be done and then hopefully get picked by a mentor who was more serious and less messy.

The bird chirped again, then lifted up and flew back out to the balcony. She perched on the railing then flew away.

She's busy this time of day, he said. Goes to the park and meets her friends. But she likes you.

Um...that's nice, I guess.

I trust her judgement. Come back tomorrow morning and we'll begin.

What? This had to be a joke. You're picking me because your bird told you to? Seriously?

Yes. Is that acceptable to you?

Did she have a choice? Yes. Thank you. She grabbed her bag and stood. I'll be going, sir.

He glared at her. Jaydon.

Um, yes, I'll see you tomorrow...Jaydon, she said as she hurried out of the office.

AN HOUR LATER ASIRA sat in the flower gardens with her friend and study partner, Siran. They were comparing notes about their interviews. Throughout their years together as students, Siran had always shown an independent streak that Asira wished she'd had. But her friend didn't have the pressures of a family name or expectations of carrying on a tradition.

Siran's family had come from one of the portal worlds, and for that alone they'd never be on the same level as the families of the Aurum. But the young woman's affinity for plants had made her an exceptional student when it came to mixing tinctures and elixirs. She'd advance even without family connections to rely on.

Around them the summer flowers were blooming, as they always did a month before the Solstice time.  A riot of pinks, blues and golds were rimmed with lush green shrubbery that formed a rectangular border. Tall stalks bearing bright red and blue flowers towered over everything else including their bench, giving them partial shade from the bright sunlight.

As usual Siran had woven multicolored jewels into her shoulder-length braids. She changed her hair color with the seasons, and this season it was a deep shade of purple.

Do you believe it? A bird. He talked to a bird and the bird recommended me, Asira said.

Everyone he's mentored has advanced and done very well in the Court. Siran took a tablet out of her pack and swiped the screen. You'll learn a lot.

That's the only reason I'm not totally annoyed right now. I still can't believe he said the bird talked to him.

So what? Birds talk.

It chirped and he understood it.

"He's Gigun. They can do that."

Gigun?

On his world they're usually farmers and artisans. They're very skilled with growing things and with animals. Siran tapped the screen of her tablet and showed it to Asira. Did the bird look like this?

A small yellow bird with black streaked wings was depicted sitting on a tree branch. Yes, that's it, she said. I still can't believe he let a bird pick me.

In spite of Siran's explanation, it seemed like a ridiculous situation to be in. Her advancement to the Golden Court depended on the opinion of a bird.

What bird? A man's deep voice interrupted her thoughts. "I heard you interviewed with the gant."

Their classmate, Varen walked over and sat between them.

That's not nice, Siran said. It's rude. She slid over to put space between herself and him, her pale skin taking on a slightly purplish flush.

Varen never hesitated to wear his long Alchemist vest that was embroidered with elemental symbols and his family crest. Tall and slim, he seemed to enjoy using his height to intimidate others who didn't pay him the proper deference. But then, his behavior wasn't much different than a lot of the magisters at the school.

He brushed his sandy hair off his forehead, flashing the gold rings on his fingers.  He's a gargoyle shifter from a farm world. He's lucky he's here. Varen took the tablet out of Siran's hands. What's this?

She snatched it back. None of your business. Get off it. Why are you always like this?

Jaydon is an expert in transmutation, Asira said.

So is my grandfather. A lot of Alchemists are. Varen waved at a couple of students across from them. Gargoyles aren’t known for their intelligence.

According to you your grandfather is an expert in everything. Siran moved away again and ended up at the other end of the bench.

The only reason they let the gants come here is because the Alchemists need the things they grow on their world, he said.

That world is also where the phoenix birds come from. You have no respect. I've got to go. Siran shoved her tablet into her pack. I'll see you later Asira.

Bye, Varen called after her. She's always been sensitive. One day she'll learn to take a joke.

Yet again he deflected criticism by blaming someone else. He'd been that way since she'd first met him at a gathering hosted by the Guild of the Asterim. Young candidates had been identified and invited to the event for inspection. Her family had been proud of her though they'd pretended to be humbled by her selection. As though they hadn't been planning for it since her birth.

She remembered how Varen's parents were similarly reticent during the proceedings. His grandfather, however, had shown up wearing very expensive garments in all the wrong colors. The whispers about it had been shared over goblets of wine and plates of delicacies.

But no one would say anything out loud and especially not to his face. His reputation had been questionable, but his position saved him from being ostracized. He was still invited to functions—and to people's homes—as long as he kept his other activities quiet.

"I can't believe you want to work with that gant." Varen brushed his hair off his forehead as a breeze rippled it.

Why do you keep calling him that? He was so tiring.

Short for gargantuan. That's what gargoyles are. Big stone creatures, he said. They just stand there and take up space.

He's a shifter and as human as we are.

No, he's not, Varen said, as he reached up and pulled on one of the flowers. By the way, Kiren's having a gathering tonight. He finished his apprenticeship. Want to come?

He's letting you come to his house after what you did last time?

Oh, come on. That wasn't a big deal. He yanked off a large red petal and rubbed it between his fingers.

You turned his set of gold heirloom goblets into lead. I don't think he was pleased. In fact, Varen's attempt at transmutation led to a fight that had abruptly ended the party.

It was a joke.

That was the problem. Everything to him was a joke. Now she wondered why she bothered to associate with him at all. In their positions it would be hard to avoid each other, though. I can't make it. When do you start your exams?

He turned away to wave at someone who didn't wave back. Maybe next term. I've got time before I have to decide what I want to do.

If you want to join the Golden Court before the Solstice you'll have to start now.

Asira, if our families are in we're in, he said. I'm late for a meeting. See you later.

She watched him as he walked down the path that led to the administration building. It seemed odd he wasn't carrying a pack like the other students, or even a tablet.

In spite of what he'd said, she knew that failing the exam would reflect on her family. She'd had one goal since she'd been old enough to understand her place in this world. Advancing to an apprenticeship in the Court, then from there she could finally achieve what she’d desired all this time. Everything she wanted depended on passing, no matter what it took to do it.

2 Secrets and Suspicions

After Asira left Jaydon’s office, Delphy returned and perched herself on her usual place on an upper shelf.

Do you really believe she's the right one? There are other students I've talked to, he said.

He felt, rather than heard, the little bird's simple reply, which to anyone else would've sounded like a few chirps. You won't regret it.

So, you say. But I'm not sure. These Aurum families are not very open to outsiders. But even as he said it, he knew his reputation in their circles would overcome their snobbery. They coveted his knowledge and his ability, even as they considered him to be lesser than they were. Maybe lesser wasn't the right word. But he wasn't sure what the right word was.

Later that afternoon he interviewed three other students who had requested meetings with him. They were respectful, if at times too reverential. He was only a few years older than the advanced students. Hardly the type of magister who needed to