Her True Form

Yvette groaned and, slowly, her eyes opened. She wasn’t dead so, as things went, it wasn’t so bad.

That was about the only positive she could think of.

Her head hurt tremendously and her wrists were shackled together. She tugged on them, but all she could feel was a light tingling. She paused for a moment before tugging on them again. It was dark, so she couldn’t tell, but she was pretty sure they were magevoid bindings. That didn’t make any sense. She felt a little bit of burning on her magic, but only a small amount. When they had been--

Because she wasn’t that mage anymore. Or, at least, not the kind of mage she’d once been. It burned a little, but nowhere near the hollowing out burn that she’d felt when last she’d worn such things.

But if they were magevoid bindings, then that meant whoever had found her were hunters. Yvette let out a groan and lowered herself back to the ground. How’d they even find her? They--

Ursula. She hadn’t been surprised. In fact, if anything she’d been helping them. Yvette had been so tired, had there been something put in her food? Was Gervas even going to contact her, or had she betrayed him too? She knew the zmaj hadn’t been particularly fond of her, but to betray her in such a manner was almost cruel.

Slowly Yvette tried to pick herself up off the ground. She fell back down and made a startling new discovery. She was moving. Forward, slowly, but she WAS moving. Thank goodness she wasn’t going up and down, so it was likely a wagon of sorts. She fumbled around in the dark and felt the walls. Wood.

A big crate? Did they really think a crate could hold a mage?

Of course they did, she was a mage in magevoid bindings. Such things likely COULD hold her. She held out both her hands and a small tuft of flame came from them. It only lasted half a second or so, but it did allow her to see that she was alone in the crate.

Of course. Yvette sighed and slowly crawled around. There had to be something she could do. Some way to find out where she was. Maybe--

Unceasing Storm.

Yvette closed her eyes and reached out to her other half, unsure if it would work. For a few moments she began to despair of having any feeling at all. But then, miracle of miracles, she felt her. The phoenix was flying high overhead, mixed in with the clouds. She could even see through her eyes after a moment.

She was right, it was a wagon. She couldn’t see the crate as it was covered in a very thick, black tarp. Lucky her, she supposed. As it was pouring rain. Her captors were not so well protected from the rain, as they were riding besides and in front of the wagon. Four of them, including the wagon driver. She couldn’t make out much about them but she was willing to bet they were the people she’d thought were mercenaries at the outpost.

Definitely mage hunters, at least. Perfect. Yvette slowly sat up and sat with her back against the wall of the crate. What was she supposed to do here? Even if she could get out of the crate, she doubted she could take on four mage hunters. Even if they were rookies, which they probably weren’t knowing her luck. At least, not without her other half.

Worse, touching her other half might cause the bindings to trigger in a much stronger manner. It might damage them, their connection or feasibly kill them. What happened to a phoenix if you took away all her magic? Yvette didn’t know and she didn’t want to find out.

She reached out to Unceasing Storm and tried to gather more information. How long had she been unconscious for?

Yvette felt horrified when she found out the sun had set three times already. HOW? She’d been unconscious for three days? How far had they traveled during that time? Where were they even going?

Unceasing Storm didn’t know, but they both had a suspicion. The Mage’s Association had sent hunters after her. There was really only one place they could be going, to meet with the council. From there, she’d either be imprisoned, executed, pardoned or demoted under a new master. She found the last incredibly unlikely and pardoning even less likely.

They’d demand she give up on her quest, she’d refuse. They’d tell her the consequences, she wouldn’t care. Nobody should have to be trapped in a body they hated. She had to get out.

Yvette fumbled around in the dark, trying to see if the was anything else in the crate she’d missed. Unfortunately, the only other thing that she had failed to realize before was that she was wearing a ring. Running her fingers over it she could feel small triangles carved into it. Perhaps another binding?

She took it off slowly.

For a few moments nothing seemed to happen, then a gnawing hunger began to rise in her stomach. She tried to ignore it, but it only began to grow and she finally slid the ring back on.

Yvette had heard of magic items like that, which could make sure the user didn’t have to eat while worn. Was that part of their plan? Just keep her locked in this crate until they arrived?

Did they think she’d be unconscious the whole time? Just what kind of magic had they used on her? She gingerly reached up and rubbed her head. Ow. There had to be something she could do to get away from this.

Yvette rested her hands on her lap and tried to shapeshift. If she could just change her form enough for the bindings to slide off, than it wouldn’t matter. From there she’d just need to touch her phoenix and she was sure she’d be able to escape. They wouldn’t get the drop on her again.

Unfortunately she hadn’t managed to actually transform her body since she’d been split in half. However, she was certain it had to be possible. Even with the bindings. It would just take focus and practice.

She hoped.

------

If nothing else, Yvette felt more dedicated than ever to escape. Being trapped in a crate for… she didn’t know how long was proving to be a brand new form of torture. A part of her would have thought it could be comforting, the peace and silence.

But she was bored. More than that, she was lonely. The only one she had to talk to was Unceasing Storm, which was effectively herself. As much as she was learning to like herself, she wasn’t the best conversationalist.

She had managed to make a little progress, however. She’d managed to, for a few seconds, shift her arm into a tentacle.

It hadn’t lasted long and she’d tried to frantically claw the manacle off, but hadn’t gotten it off in time.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t managed to repeat the feat. She’d managed it either this morning or possibly the day before, in the darkness the passed time felt almost meaningless.

Yvette wondered if, maybe, this was going to be the end for her. Was it possible the masters would understand why she had to do what she had to do? Betan had known her, yet he’d never even listened to her for a second. Why would they?

Perhaps she should think harder on her defense. But what could she even say? She didn’t even know who the council were. Masked masters who only came together to past judgment or alter the laws of the Mage’s Association.

Was wanting to be herself really such a crime? Was wanting to allow others to be themselves such a crime? Why did it have to be so hard? Yvette closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall.

She hoped Gervas was okay. That Bayla would be okay. She wished…

…

She wished she wasn’t alone. She was scared. What would happen if she died? Would she and Unceasing Storm become one? Would she be reborn a second time? Would Unceasing Storm survive, half a person, lost and confused?

Unceasing Storm was scared to. They were the phoenix together, but now they were trapped apart. If only she hadn’t trusted Ursula. Why had she? Because she was Gervas’ friend? Maybe, but she’d never been her friend.

Now that Yvette thought about it, the only person she really supposed was her friend was Gervas. She’d met people who had helped her, but only because they got something from her. The pirates wanted her help, Nautia saw it as paying back a debt. Her master likely only saw her as a fallen mage. Her fellow apprentice had tried to light her on fire. Bayla seemed to idolize the phoenix part of her. The entire empire only saw her as the phoenix, a trophy to display. She’d met so many people, but so few who seemed to actually see her, fewer who cared about her.

Except Gervas. He said he could love her. He’d fight for her. He’d risked everything for her.

So there was no way she’d give up now. She held out both her hands again and envisioned the form she wanted to take. Turn her arms into tentacles, like a great squid. Let the manacles fall away. Let them fade from her.

CHANGE!

Nothing happened, though. All she felt was that burning sensation as the magevoid bindings tried to burn away more of her magic. Yvette let out a frustrated growl and held both her hands up. Why? Why wouldn’t they work? She was the phoenix, she was powerful! She was mighty! She was SO ANNOYED! She flailed her arms around a few times, desperately trying to get them to just change a little bit. She’d managed it once, why couldn’t she now?

Time was running out and the longer she waited, the closer she got to her demise. A part of her wanted to know how much longer she had, but there was really no way to know. While the wagon had stopped a few times, it usually started again. Every time, though, she’d felt that mounting dread. Would that be the final stop?

Yvette took a few slow, careful breaths. She was the storm. She was the living storm. The phoenix. The mage. She was both. She was neither. She could be anything she desired.

She’d become so many things in her life. Birds, deer, fish, dragons. She’d become a phoenix, a living embodiment of the storm. If she could just become ANY of them now, that’d be great.

She felt more burning on her wrist, but she tried to ignore it. She couldn’t let these things defeat her. She had to break free.

The wagon came to a stop, once more.

Would this be the last time? Possibly? Who knew? FOCUS!

Yvette held out her wrists, willing the magic to change, to mold itself. She was…

Fire.

She’d tried to change herself into another creature, but she was also Unceasing Storm. So why only the forms a mage would take? The bindings burned, so why not bind them right back?

She focused, willing her body to turn to flame, like it could when she was the phoenix. When she was whole. She wasn’t just a mage, she wasn’t just a phoenix. She was both.

She felt a small spark in her hands and she saw a little light illuminating the crate. She was doing it! She could feel it! Just a little--

A moment later there was more than just a little light. A side of the crate opened and she stared up at drawn bows, arrows aimed at her. She blinked a few times, trying to see through the sudden light.

“Don’t move, mage,” a woman’s voice said and one of them slowly stepped into the crate, walking towards her.

Yvette narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. Should she risk it? Dare she? Was it possible that the council would hear her out? Her wrists were grabbed and she was pulled, less than gently, to her feet. Her body ached from being confined and sleeping on wood for so long and she nearly fell over, but her captor ignored her stumbles and instead yanked her along. “It’s time for you to answer for your crimes. Move it.”

Yvette looked around. There were more than just the four, now. She couldn’t identify where they were, but she was roughly pulled towards a domed building. She fell down to one knee when she stepped out of the wagon, the woman pulling her stopping for a moment to sneer at her. “Move it!”

Yvette felt her anger growing, but she bit it down. Anger was nicer than fear and exhaustion, at least. Easier. Being hauled in chains, exhausted, dirty, to face a counsel she’d never even met.

Anger was the far safer emotion for her to feel right now.