Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  She wrinkled her nose. “Impossible. I cannot for a moment forget such a thing. I live for no reason but to serve my master.”

  “That’s the problem. Arin didn’t live to serve back then and she doesn’t now. The last I heard, she is in a galaxy far far away, nurturing a republic and making sure it doesn’t corrupt into an empire again. She’s anti-order conformity and pro-chaos mischief. The closest she comes to ‘serving’ anyone is helping them achieve greatness instead of seeking it for herself.”

  “What right has the fake elf to tell someone how to act like a real elf?”

  Ralm walked by, still in his villain gear. Nilo stood next to him.

  “I have a Seed of Chaos.”

  “That doesn’t make you a real elf,” Ralm said. “You look and act human. A real elf creates. He ponders the world and questions everything in it. A real elf challenges authority, starting with his parents. A real elf venerates tricksters and their mischief.”

  “I do all that,” Eric said. “I even have a shrine to Tasio in his guise as ‘Friend to Mortals’ in my home.”

  Ralm raised his right arm and morphed it into a blade. Then he brought it down sharply on Eric. “Then why can’t you shapeshift?”

  Eric grabbed the blade with his left grendel fist. The rest of him remained human. “Arin was human. She received a Seed of Chaos just like me. How did she do it?”

  Ralm sent him a haughty look. “Read the tome, bookworm. Figure it out.”

  Eric snarled. This elf’s smug attitude was not a threat, but it would still be gratifying to rip him to shreds. Annala took his right hand in both of hers and looked pleadingly into his eyes. Eric’s temper receded. He released Ralm’s blade and the elf stood down.

  “It won’t take you long,” Ralm said. “You already have the first part.”

  In the Enaz House, Eric and Annala sat down with the Elven Tome. They flipped to the second volume to find their answers. In addition to Arin’s travels, it had sections containing her lectures. They were shaped as dialogues between her and her husband, her children, or a new character.

  One such parable concerned Arin and a human mage. He had heard of the elven ability to shapeshift and believed it was a superior form of illusion magic. He traveled to Arin’s camp, kowtowed, and said, “Great illusionist, please teach me. I will do whatever you say in exchange for this knowledge.”

  Arin recited a spell name that the illusionist did not recognize. It created no flash of light nor caused any change that he could see. It didn’t even appear to gather mana. As far as he could tell, she didn’t use magic at all. She then threaded her fingers together, held them before the human, and said, “How many fingers do I have?”

  The human counted them once, then twice, and then thrice. The elf possessed only nine fingers. Then Arin pulled her hands apart and he counted a fourth time. She had ten fingers.

  “Wise teacher, what sort of magic is this? I could not detect it.”

  Arin threaded her fingers a second time and then flipped her hands over. Her tenth finger was hiding. Because another finger lay over it, it appeared that the digits were evenly laced. The human blushed in shame. She pulled her fingers apart and said, “You assumed I had illusion magic you didn’t understand, which made you easy to fool.”

  “But you do! How else could you grow a second head that can eat or cover yourself in scales that can be felt? There is nothing else.”

  A third time, Arin threaded her fingers together. She flipped them over to show him the hidden digit and, before his eyes, the digit disappeared into her palm. The human touched the space where it had been.

  “If I have illusion magic, it is only because the body itself is an illusion. It is not I who has deceived you, nor the person who told you about me, but your limited knowledge. In both cases, your preconceptions led you astray and caused your disgrace.”

  Without a word or gesture, she became a mirror image of the human mage. Clothing, hair color, eye color, skin texture; not even her husband could tell the difference. Then she distorted the man’s features by making a funny face. He was so offended, he threw a Dispel at her, to no effect.

  “If I went to your home and sat down with your family, could they tell the difference?”

  “Yes, they could,” the human replied confidently. “Not right away, but they would notice discrepancies in the way ‘I’ acted. Even if you made a perfect copy of my body, they would eventually realize you were an imposter because of your behavior.”

  “Exactly,” Arin said. “My soul is different from yours because my nature is different from yours. Mine would shine forth regardless of what ‘illusions’ I used to conceal it. Therefore, both of us are unique and neither is replaceable. Again, I say to you, this is because the body itself is an illusion and only the soul is real.”

  “Are you telling me that my skills are limited? That my craft is a mere parlor trick?”

  “Nonsense. With Chaos, all things are possible.”

  “How may I obtain chaos?”

  “You already have it. You just don’t realize it. Come with me and I will help you do so.”

  The rest of the parables on shapeshifting followed the same theme. The body was an illusion; nothing but a physical reflection of the soul. Humans lacked the strength to control this reflection unless it was granted to them by Lady Chaos. All the forms of an elf were thus reflections of their moods and desires because their soul used the power of chaos to enact them on their body.

  Eric slammed the tome shut.

  “Mana Conversion!” he exclaimed. “It’s the same thing. Mana is a lesser form of chaos. Like avatarcraft, shapeshifting is a two-law system: will and desire. Why wouldn’t it? This is basically avatarcraft as well. The differences are only superficial! Thus, if I want to be an elf…”

  He closed his eyes and reached for an elven identity. It flowed from his heart, through Annala, through her family, and through her community and culture. He held this feeling and matched it together with the Universal Mana Principle that underpinned Mana Conversion in order to think through a motion other elves didn’t have to think about. Moments passed and he began to change. His hair shifted from red to golden-brown. His ears pointed. He opened his eyes and said, “How do I look?”

  “You make a handsome elf, Master Eric.”

  He shifted again.

  “How about as a turtle?” he asked with custom vocal cords.

  Annala giggled. “Yes, you are an attractive turtle as well.”

  He shifted a third time. “An eagle?”

  She covered her mouth with a hand. “Any hunter would be proud to have you stuffed on their wall.”

  Suddenly, she became solemn and looked aside. Eric became an elf again and put an arm around her.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “Can you do something bigger? Maybe a griffin?”

  “Let’s see.”

  Eric got down on all fours and willed himself to change. He thought of griffins: their size, their shape, and their weight. He thought of the strength of their wings and their unique bone construction that enabled flight. He thought of their power and majestic appearance. He took all these traits into himself and perceived himself as such. A frightening screech ripped through House Enaz. Eric beat his new wings and admired his new claws. Annala glomped his feathery neck.

  “You’re taking me flying right now!...Oh! I mean, Master Eric, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to give you an order! But if you could be so kind as—”

  Eric nuzzled her head and then knelt like a horse. Annala radiated joy as she straddled his back. The front door automatically widened to allow them to exit easily. It shrank behind him. Taking a running start, Eric jumped and flapped. Then he face-planted. If not for the safety restraints he made for Annala, she would have gone flying into the neighbor’s yard.

  Blinking away dirt, Eric stood up to try again. This time, he invoked Air Disk and other spells to give himself a boost. It failed to lift him more than th
ree feet.

  “It’s okay, Master Eric. You don’t have to. It was just a silly—”

  Eric shook his head. For his third try, he used something special. Winds gathered around him. He ran forwards again and ascended. Soon he was soaring amongst the clouds. To make sure Annala stayed warm, he cast an intermediate wind spell to create a bubble of heated air around her.

  “If you don’t mind your slave asking, Master Eric, what did you do?”

  “I thought of you,” Eric replied. “Thinking of you and making you happy helps me get into the right frame of mind to use Wiol’s blessing. Then I can direct the winds with my heart instead of my mind and provide lift artificially. In other words, your love lifts me higher and higher!”

  “Oh, Master Eric…you’ll make me blush.” She leaned forward and whispered, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind doing a few tricks?”

  As his lady wished, he swooped in and out of the clouds. He barrel-rolled as if avoiding enemy fire. He climbed, and then, for several breathless seconds, dived directly for the frozen ground.

  Annala screamed and waved her arms. Breathless, she leaned forward and squeezed his neck.

  “Oh, this is so much fun!” She squeezed tighter involuntarily. “I used to fly all the time, though I’d never choose anything as ostentatious as a griffin.”

  Eric snorted and shook his head. “You used to do this with Ralm, right?”

  “Yes. Flying together is a couple thing to do in elven society. It’s like the rowboat date in human tradition. When I lost my powers, we couldn’t do it anymore…”

  “Then he started flying with Nilo.”

  “That was after we broke up. It was understandable, really. You don’t have to do anything about it.”

  “What happened?”

  “…Um…I…Uh…”

  “Annala, it is a master’s duty to see that his servants are well taken care of. Only a cruel or negligent master has unhappy servants. Do you want to trash my reputation?”

  Annala rapidly shook her head. “No, nononononono! Of course not, Master Eric! It’s…uh…like this.”

  She swallowed.

  “When Aunt Tris went insane...I kinda lost it too.” She set her cheek on Eric’s feathery head. “...I realized elves weren’t immune to death. Uncle Mori was young and powerful. He was in our village and surrounded by family empowered by chaos. If death could reach someone there, then no place was safe. Furthermore…I realized there was something worse than death.”

  She swallowed again.

  “Annala, I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s all right. Losing one’s sanity; a prison to despair and delusion; the blessing of Grandmother Chaos turned into a curse. These kinds of thoughts bounced back and forth in my head.” Her voice broke. “…After that… I couldn’t shapeshift anymore.”

  Tears burst from her eyes.

  “It was horrifying! I thought something was wrong with me. I started making excuses for not shapeshifting…the neighbors would think me abominable! I started checking my healing factor to make sure it was still working; that my Seed of Chaos was still active. Bigger and bigger risks with more and more deadly harm. Eventually, they were no longer ‘risks’ so much as ‘guarantees.’”

  Images appeared unbidden in Eric’s mind; bloody and gory images of what his lady might have done to herself. He didn’t want to think about what her true motive could have been during that dark time, but the thought formed anyway: when her Seed of Chaos healed her each time, did she feel relief or disappointment?

  “What happened?”

  “Mom got suspicious. She sat me down and…we talked about it. She ran some tests but couldn’t find anything wrong. We visited Auntie H and she couldn’t find anything either. She consulted with Sister Sagart, who helped me through the worst of it. Thanks to her, I achieved a level of peace that enabled me to function again. Both she and my mother decided I should study abroad until they had a permanent solution.”

  Eric flapped to regain altitude.

  “But you came back early, for the Summit.”

  “That smug asshole Lunas! I wanted to punch that pompous attitude out of him!” She blushed. “There was also the fate of elves, of course. They need to be freed. I mean, they don’t have such a benevolent master as myself; not all elves are so fortunate. Then there’s the Eternal Hobby…but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m mortal now. I’m dust. I’ll blow away in the wind before you can blink.”

  “I used to be human. Arin, the First Elf, used to be human. There’s no reason you can’t be an elf again.”

  Eric looked for a place to land and he chose the stage. This attracted the attention of Remho and his muses. One of them declared himself inspired and discussed this idea with his fellows.

  Annala hopped off and stumbled from saddle sores. Eric reared onto his hind legs and shrank back into a pointy-eared elf. The wings he kept so he could wrap them around Annala. She looked up at him coyly. Outside the feathery cocoon, the muses listened to the sounds of smooching. Then they spread out and gathered key people.

  This was a time to stage a drama. It would entertain the masses, teach lessons, and, Chaos willing, provide inspiration for all the artists of the village. Soon Kallen, Emily, Ralm, and Nilo were on stage and the muses explained the situation thus far. All the while, Annala’s moans could be heard through Eric’s feathers. Ralm blushed and fidgeted.

  “Just having shapeshifting powers doesn’t make you a real elf!” he shouted. “Let’s see you use them!”

  Eric parted his wings just enough for Ralm to see the two of them. One of his hands arched Annala’s back while the other threaded into her hair.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Shapeshifter Duel!”

  Kallen waved her hand in the air. “Oh, can I be the judge!? Please!?”

  “Hold on,” Eric said, closing his wings. “I haven’t agreed yet.”

  “Master Eric, if you will allow your slave to offer loyal advice...” Annala paused and didn’t continue until Eric gave her the nod. “It’ll be a good learning experience. Despite other failings, he’s good at shapeshifting.” She leaned forward and pecked his cheek. “Maybe the fight will inspire you.” Eric immediately folded his wings and stepped forward.

  “I’ve had all my life to practice and experiment,” Ralm boasted. “Any form you can do, I can do better.”

  “HA!” Eric scoffed. “I’ve had all my life to daydream and I’m older than you!”

  Ralm chambered his leg, transformed it into a giant wooden paddle, and slammed it on the ground, throwing up a cloud of snow and dirt. Eric blinked to transform his own eyes into lenses for seeing infrared and scanned the area for Ralm’s body heat. Ralm still eluded him, so he grew eyes in the back of his head. The resulting double vision was so disorienting, he removed them.

  A leg came out of nowhere and slammed across his cheek. Mind spinning, he made wings of his arms and blew the smoke away. There you are... Right in front of him was a heat signature that looked exactly like Ralm. He lunged, drew his arm back, and unleashed a mighty punch with a steel arm. The heat signature flinched and held up their hands.

  “Master Eric, don’t!”

  Annala!? He returned his eyes to color vision and saw his precious maiden right in front of him. He was about to clock his girlfriend because of faulty eyesight!

  “Annala, I’m so sor—” Her face twisted into a sneer and she snapped her foot up between his legs. He screamed and clutched but did not fall over. Annala uppercut his jaw and nailed his stomach with a roundhouse kick that slammed him against the stage’s back wall.

  “Can’t tell the difference, can you?” Annala shimmered and became Ralm. “I’ve known Annala since Pre-K; I know how many freckles she has.”

  “I thought elves had a taboo against that sort of thing,” Kallen said. “Something along the lines of ‘Emulate The Trickster in all ways, both in the mischief he creates and his refusal to shift blame for this mischief onto o
thers by stealing their identities.’”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Nilo said. “It depends on the context and motivation.”

  “So it’s okay if you play it for laughs?” Kallen asked.

  “You should spend Trickster Day here next year,” Nilo said. “Nobody is who they say they are. Unless they really are, but you don’t think they are because you think they’re trying to trick you into thinking they are.”

  “It gets worse when they think you think they’re tricking you and they decide to trick you into thinking that they’re tricking you,” Annala added, “when they’re really not.”

  “Unless they are,” Nilo continued.

  “It was like this that one time when we pranked Forge,” Annala said. “Remember?”

  “Oh yeah, we made him go cross-eyed and pass out,” Nilo said. “When he woke up, we made him think it was your mom and dad pretending to be us.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Kallen said, “but are duels legit too?”

  “It’s a shapeshifter duel after all,” Nilo said. “It’s really only a problem if you try to ruin someone’s life, sabotage diplomacy, or sneak into the other gender’s bathroom.”

  “Does the last one happen often?” Kallen asked.

  “Nah,” Nilo said. “It’s too easy for the other side to shapeshift something disgusting in return.”

  “I didn’t need to hear that,” Eric said while warding off Ralm’s serrated tooth arms with his own arm, which he shifted into a mound of solid rock. He turned his other arm into a bony hammer with spikes and, moving his shield aside, swung it at Ralm’s arms. Ralm jumped away and flung both his arms out in an X fashion. While Eric was busy dodging them, he fired a third arm from his chest in the shape of a mallet that smashed into Eric’s chest. Then it exploded.

  Eric was engulfed in flames and cried out in shock and anger for letting his guard down. The serious damage was minor; the explosion only burned him enough for his Seed of Chaos to activate. It couldn’t do anything for his clothes, so he had to continue fighting shirtless, which Annala appreciated.

  He shifted his arms into red serpentine dragons and opened fire on Ralm, who dodged by sidestepping. Eric tracked him and turned the snow to water in his wake. Ralm’s leg caught in a snowdrift and Eric smirked as he fired twin balls of flame. His dragon arms wheezed and coughed up two balls of smoke instead. Eric himself was suddenly gasping for air.