Revelations (Song of Sophangence Book 4)

by E. I. McAllistair

  “At this point, I want to officially extend an invitation to join our outfit, Dan. This was always intended to see if you would be able to keep up and provide value to the team, but we never expected to see it firsthand. You proved you are more than up to the task, and we’d all be happy to have you. What do you say? Will you join us?”

  Dan was at a loss for words as he looked around the room, realizing even the ever silent Chu bore an expression of acceptance. The thought of having a much greater flow of income, and a team of people he could trust outside of Sophangence was simply too much to pass by. He raised his bottle, letting out a whoop that was echoed by Lester. More drinks came out, this time being hard liquor. As they continued into the night, a very drunk Dan stumbled to Jess.

  “Hey! I ain’t gots me no codename! I cain’t bees no proper… spy person if I ain’t got one!”

  This caused everyone to begin shouting out potential codenames for Dan. Even a redfaced Chu murmured a few of her own. Everyone ended up so drunk they passed out surrounded by empty bottles. When Dan awoke in the morning, the last to rise, he found a set of dogtags on his chest. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light, he read the word engraved on the surface.

  “Craftsman.”

  38

  Though he still hated it, Phavian had become accustomed to Anaar hanging out with Merc. Even though he knew there was no chance of Anaar leaving him for anyone that he knew of, it did not stop him from being jealous. Anaar had just returned from a celebration for Dan in which only Maggie and Stefani, and he were invited. He had not long stepped through a portal before Phavian rushed to him in excitement, squeezing and hugging him.

  “Now that your VIP party is over, I was thinking, we could go do some badass shit like parasailing or hang gliding in some exotic location. You could totally make something to serve as the boat right? Or just make a boat I guess… Either way, let’s go! It will be fun!”

  Anaar pried himself loose, walking to his room and dropping the package in his hand onto the bed. Realizing he had been followed by Phavian who was doing his best impersonation of a loving puppy, he sighed as he pulled the hair tie off his head, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Do you have any logistics taken care of, or is this just the typical situation where you have an idea and wait for others to make it a reality?”

  Phavian’s face took on a hurt expression as he began to stammer. “I… only occasionally do that. This just so happens… to be one of them…”

  “Right… As I thought. I can’t right now, I’m going to see Merc. If you really want to do it though, you could at least come up with a proper plan and that would make me more likely to do it.”

  “What?! You just got back from half the day with your friends! Now you are leaving again?! What about Phave time?!”

  Anaar’s eyes narrow. “We sleep together. Lying next to a roaring furnace every night should be enough to satisfy the requirement.”

  “That doesn’t even bother you since you became a True Fire Quintessence! You radiate way hotter than me! I’m immune to cold, not heat!”

  “You had to deal with it for like, three days tops… Yet I went years dealing with your body heat and snoring before I was able to fix it.”

  Before Phavian could respond, Anaar had retied his hair and opened a portal. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  Anaar maneuvered his way through the café in The Rack, which was exceptionally crowded for some reason. He found the table he was looking for and flopped down in a chair with a huff.

  “It will never get old how you can instantly pick me out, even in a big crowd. You still won’t tell me how you do it will you?”

  Anaar looks at Merc with a smirk. “Maybe not that, since you have gotten better at masking all the excuses I gave you before. Since we are on the topic though, I did have a favor to ask, but only if you are willing. No pressure at all.”

  Though it did not matter to him, Anaar had noticed Merc chose to appear in the form of a woman much more than that of a man. Their friendship had shown him Merc simultaneously craved attention, while requiring the shadows of obscurity. Anaar was not sure if the ability to shapeshift caused this personality trait, or if Merc had simply won the lottery with abilities, but it was a perfect match. Thanks to their interactions, rumors were always swirling about the health of his relationship with Phavian since he was so frequently seen with different beautiful women.

  No matter whether presenting as a man or a woman, unless Merc was impersonating someone, it was a given only the height of perfection was allowed. Anaar was not sure if it was his own ability to see through Merc, or his heightened deductive skills, but it felt obvious to him who Merc was, despite the change in appearance. The school was small enough that it would be unlikely to have so many breathtakingly gorgeous individuals that only appeared once, but never again.

  Merc also preferred darker skin tones. The rich ebon skin Merc bore was smooth as silk and glowed with the luminosity of the sun even while inside. Tight coils and a glossy lip accented deep brown eyes that seemed designed to be deadlier than any gun. With the devilishly flirtatious grin Merc was known for, they breathily begged the question.

  “It depends on what kind of favor… What do I get in return?”

  Anaar pulled his hand back from Merc’s as it was being lightly caressed, a bland expression on his face. “If you are going to be weird about it, forget I asked.”

  Quicker than a flash of light, Merc’s entire demeanor changed to one of annoyed boredom. “You never let me have any fun.”

  “Your ‘fun’ is the reason why there are so many rumors swirling around!”

  “Let people think what they think.”

  “That’s because they aren’t thinking it about you! Anyway, will you help me or not? I will be honest, I think it has the potential to be invasive. In a way.”

  Though Merc’s expression remained steady, Anaar sensed the discomfort.

  “How invasive?”

  “Well, I want to understand shapeshifting more. It is still shrouded in a lot of mystery due to how few people have had it over the years. Unlike you, most people find it so painful they swear off ever using it, nevertheless allowing themselves to become a lab rat. Water Affinities don’t tend to get coerced like others do.”

  “So you want to ask me a bunch of questions?”

  “There is that… But I’d also like to study your transformations. I’ve seen some footage, but I’ve never seen a transformation in person.”

  Merc had wondered when Anaar would finally be so bold as to make such a request. It was no secret that a great deal of his interest in Merc was focused on research. He had never been aggressive, most of his information being derived from passive observation rather than direct interrogation and experimentation. Even with those things factored, Merc felt Anaar had been a genuine friend. Since he had never asked for anything before, and he had done wonders with helping Merc improve, his request was granted.

  Even with their now long-standing friendship, Merc refused to invite Anaar over. This in no way bothered Anaar, as he never understood people’s obsession with visiting someone’s personal space. Merc instead requested they go somewhere quiet, with a nice view, far away from campus. Anaar had become accustomed to such requests, since the general populace seemed convinced Travelers and Transporters also had built-in tourist guides for the entire world. Thanks to experience, he did have the perfect place in mind, though he was sure it was only reinforcing the misperception.

  Ever since Anaar had found solace at the peak of Mount Everest, he had taken an interest in other mountains, spurring a passion for hiking and mountain climbing when he wanted time to himself. Merc was overwhelmed by the verdant ocean stretching beneath them. From the small ridge that seemed manufactured for viewing the scenery, Merc sat along the edge, deeply inhaling the air, crisp and fresh, while savoring every chirp, creak, and whoosh that came by. Anaar waited patiently for Merc to give him the cue to begin his experimen
t.

  “You sure know how to butter someone up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get into my pants.”

  Anaar chuckled lightly as he followed Merc’s eyes to a curious deer rustling about. “If we are being honest, I’m almost positive I’m doing something worse. Not shaming you or anything, but you’d have sex with someone without much thought, but you would never shift for them would you?”

  Merc remained silent for a long time, trying to find the words to match the elusive thoughts racing about. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Find the space to consume everyone around you, while still remaining fully yourself.”

  Anaar was not prepared for such a trigger that would send his very being into a tailspin. Merc could not have known, but the word ‘consume’ used in such a context embodied everything Anaar feared about himself. Ever since he confirmed he had indeed more than just killed his brother, he had swallowed him whole, dooming him to an eternal prison and strengthening himself, more instances of that behavior made themselves evident. The most obvious was his manifestation of an ability that gave him to power to steal from others at will, whenever he wanted.

  Anaar had chosen to consider his Assimilation ability stealing because the victim had no choice in the matter. To his knowledge, there was no defense against it, and they would never know if he did not disclose it. What truly made it feel like theft to him however was the extent of its capability was far greater than he ever utilized. He worked tirelessly to ensure he could take only manifestations from others, and it would also be temporary. If he chose, he could take an ability permanently, which was how he ended up with both Phavian’s and Maggie’s powers.

  To a much more terrifying extent, this ability could go beyond manifestations to copying personality traits, emotions, or even memories. Combined with Merc’s abilities, he realized he had the power to replace anyone in the world, and no one would ever know. Something so insidious was a burden he could never place on anyone else, no matter how much he trusted them. No one would ever know just how much of a monster he had truly become.

  Anaar took a similarly lengthy time to respond, something that put Merc at ease, knowing it was something he had to contemplate. “I’ve come to accept the ‘me’ that I am now, is mosaic of everyone I encounter. There was once a time I could say I was completely original, but those days are long gone. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not so infallible it seems.”

  Merc was shocked at the vulnerability shown by Anaar. He had never expressed anything other than stalwart dependability. To show he had doubts and weaknesses felt like an aberration that should be immediately eradicated. Merc pushed the experiment forward in hopes it would erase the thought.

  “So you just want me to shift right? Full, partial, what are you looking for?”

  Though he inherently understood partial transformations were possible, for some reason Anaar had never expected it to be an option. “Let’s go with whatever you are comfortable showing me.”

  Merc had planned for such a response, and as such took the opportunity to break the one rule Anaar had set. Over the span of three minutes, Anaar found himself looking in a mirror, with the exception of the women’s clothing that were horribly stretched. If he had not been so fascinated with the process, he would have been upset.

  The most notable part of the process was the audio. Never had Anaar expected to hear every squelch, breaking of bone, and growth of skin and muscle. His hypersensitive ears made clear what he already knew to be true, but could not quite conceptualize.

  Shapeshifters lack the ability to change their mass. This was often a limiter in just how far their ability extended. A shifter’s inherent size opened up a world of possibilities for them. As such, it had been said most shifters choose to be overweight or find any other means to increase their mass. There was no doubt now that this theory held true.

  What Anaar had been hearing was not growth, but instead a stretching and reshaping. Though shifters could not create nor eliminate mass, they were free to stretch or compress it. They also had the ability to convert the tissues in their body, which mean fat cells could be transmogrified into bone or viscera. Because Anaar knew his own body down to the molecules, the person standing before him was no more him than one of the trees in the distance.

  He also knew his own genetic sequence, which informed him of Merc’s inability to modify that, or just a lack of information. It was surely a mixture of both, but a lack of ability superseded simply missing the requisite information. This provided yet another glaring difference. Normally he would have been mad at Merc for taking on his form, but this provided the most controlled experiment he could hope for since he knew himself best of all.

  His attention to the process was given the highest priority in the experiment because he wanted to confirm his suspicions. He had long since borrowed Merc’s powers to try for himself, even though the first time was an accident. What he had found was an experience completely inconsistent with everything he knew about shapeshifting. He knew that in order to confirm his suspicions, he would have no choice but to involve Merc directly.

  His first area of confusion came with the speed of his transformation. Though he knew great power and skill increased the transformation rate, he never expected his own to be instantaneous. He figured this had to be related in no small part to his body’s initial shift into an elemental form. After seeing hair lengthen, arms and legs stretch with the accompanied sounds, and structures of the face slowly restructure, he understood the key difference.

  Due to his existence as a True Quintessence, his body did not require the slow, laborious process of conversion. He instead put his body in a state meant for manipulation and performed the process in that manner. He never tried to do this, his body always did it instinctually. He also noted that his mass actively changed. There is a report of one Shapeshifter possessing the ability to change their mass, but it was barely worth note. In his case, as a True Quintessence, he could create and destroy matter at will, which gave him a more complete transformation. His only question was whether this would be possible without the True Life attunement.

  Because of his Biokinesis, he could read the genetic code of others, and his own brain power was enough to replicate it, but when combined with Hobb, it became another instinctual process to replicate a person down to the genetic code. His unique set of abilities eradicated any weaknesses and limitations Shapeshifters had ever faced. Throughout all his observations, there was still something he was missing to complete his analysis.

  “I thought shifting could be uncomfortable or downright painful. You seemed to have no problem with it.”

  Merc shrugged, no doubt an intentional jab at Anaar. “Think of it like anal. Sure it hurts at first, but after you have been consistently doing it for so long, what you can take without issue becomes bigger and bigger. Remember I do this almost daily.”

  Anaar rolled his eyes at the positively Phavianesque response, falling into his frequent quandary of how the two did not get along. He found Merc’s answer and example to be simplistic but extremely clear, with very little left to question. His only wish was to find someone with little experience as a Shapeshifter and compare the differences.

  “I’ve shown you mine, time to show me yours.”

  Anaar snapped out of his many calculations to squint at Merc. “Technically you’ve just shown me mine… In any case, what do you mean?”

  “We do something similar. I have always wondered about you True Quintessences and that elemental form. I want to see it.”

  Anaar had to stop himself from bursting out in laughter. “That?! That’s all?!”

  “I’ve never seen you do it. I figured it was something secret and special. I know that other guy no one likes does it all the time, but I figured it had to do with him trying to show off.”

  “You’re right. That likely has something to do with it. It isn’t anything I was hiding though. I just never needed to use
it.”

  Merc’s eyes bulged as the man before them exploded in a fiery spectacle, a flaming mane rippling behind him. The surprise quickly changed to shock as Anaar’s clothes were unaffected by the flickering humanoid form before them. Reaching out cautiously, Merc touched Anaar’s arm pulling it back quickly at first, then touching it again with more inspection.

  “It’s not hot. How are you a flaming ball of… human, but you aren’t hot! Why haven’t your clothes burned up? Isn’t this the issue that troubles all True Fire Quintessences?!”

  Anaar reverts back to his solid human state, his loose hair cascading around him. “Damn, I forgot I don’t have another hair tie…”

  “Wait, why did you change back?”

  “Did you want me to answer your questions?”

  “Yes, but why couldn’t you before?”

  Anaar’s facial expression questioned whether Merc was serious. “Because… A ball of flame doesn’t have vocal cords… Even if it is shaped like a human?”

  “Then how did you hear me? How was I supposed to know you couldn’t speak in that form? The very fact you can turn into fire doesn’t make sense in the first place.”

  Anaar thought about it for a moment and nodded in agreeance. “Fair point. To be honest, it is hard to explain why my senses all work in my elemental form. I will say though there are some differences. For example, I inherently have the ability to sense the world thermally, and not just by sight. I never thought deeply about it, but now I have something new to start looking into…”

  Merc soon began to grow impatient as Anaar seemed to be taking notes and ordering his thoughts. “Still waiting to know how you didn’t set everything on fire. You weren’t even hot.”