I woke under the blazing sun, my eyes smarting with tears as I raised a paw to cover my face. Only, it was not a paw that blocked the sunlight; wriggling what humans called fingers, I tried to understand what was going on.
Where am I?
Grass pricked my skin uncomfortable and I sat up, looking over long arms and legs with blurred eyesight. Pinching pale skin with numb fingers, I wondered where my burnt orange fur had disappeared to.
Peering around, I tried to notice where I was but there were just tall trees, green grass and a deep blue sky. The wind picked up, throwing strands of bright orange hair into my face; I spat it out of my mouth, before touching my teeth. Human teeth, flat with barely any points. My fingers roamed over my face, past my small nose and small, rounded ears. I ran my hand through the hair, unable to find my twitching ears, before letting it drop onto my back again.
Turning round, I searched for my tail, but to no avail, giving a little whimper. Confusion filled me. How had I come to be a human? Only mere moments before, I had been an orange fox. Behind me, a large cavernous opening beckoned and that's when fuzzy images began to form in my head.
A ritual.
Humans with dark brown cloaks and the symbol '狐' painted on their foreheads - the symbol for Fox.
An altar with red inscription, splattered with shadows from flames.
Chanting and magic rising from outstretched fingers.
A tingling in my body before bone- breaking pain seared through me.
Blinking awake to bright lights, before nothing but a comfortable warmness.
Shaking my head, I realised why I was human. Those cult members had actually managed to transform me into one of those lesser beings, but for what purpose, I did not know. All I knew was that something obviously went wrong, because I was outside and not inside and it was now late morning inside of midnight.
Deciding that I needed to start with the cave, I crawled forward on what humans called knees and hands. I had studied humans since I had been a fox, picking up on their language and signs, especially when they pointed to different parts of the body when accidents happened.
My hands and knees were stinging with pain by the time I reached the entrance, blood dotting the ground behind me. Peering into the darkness, I realised I still have my enhanced eyesight from my time as a fox, which allowed me to see in the dark.
My stomach curled into knots when I noticed the black and brittle bones and skulls littering the floor, strips of fabric turning to threads hanging on the walls or still attached to the bones. I delved further in, but the pain in my hands and knees was becoming too much, especially on stone.
Recalling how humans walked on two legs, I placed my bleeding hands against the wall and used it for support as I pushed myself to my feet. It was an effort, considering I had never stood before on two legs; they shook uncontrollably and it was hard to balance.
Holding the wall for support, I stood still for a couple of minutes, just until my legs went from shaking to slight quivers. Steeling my nerve, I pushed myself forward, lifting each leg slowly and using the wall.
The deeper I went into the cave, the stronger the smell of decay and death got. Little stones I kicked bounced forward, echoing over and over. It seemed to go on forever, before I rounded a sharp corner and my enhanced eyesight allowed me to see what was in the dark again.
It was horrid. Blood, rusty brown and flaky with age, had been splattered on the walls and floor. More skeletons and bones, tattered rags and tarnished amulets. In the centre of it all, unblemished by the mayhem, was a large stone altar with four empty cauldrons at each corner.
Stunned, I walked into the chamber, bones turning to dust under my feet. My breath was caught in my throat, the thought of breathing in this toxic place sending shivers down my spine.
What's happened here? Why is everyone long dead?
My hands made contact with the stone altar, cool and rough under my hands, bringing me back to reality. Gasping for air, the smell of death assaulted me. I held the altar for support as I bent over and gagged.
My fingers brushed against carved symbols. Words, in a language I shouldn't know. But I did. A memory rose, one of a hooded figure chanting in a strange, guttural voice. The last time I had hear that language out loud had been when, as a child, I had delved too deep into the forest.
The Demon language.
My mother, before she had passed away, always told stories of humans and animals alike who used Demon magic for their own whims.
'But, she warned, a hefty price is always paid in return.'
I guessed that was what happened here. While these occult members had been able to transform me human, both parties had to pay a price. There's was death. Mine, I wasn't too sure yet.
Perhaps it was losing time. The bones of the deceased told me that some time must have past. That would also explain why my memories of the ritual were fuzzy.
However, none of this or what I remembered explained how I ended up outside.
Puzzled, I searched around some more, adjusting to my human body. There had to be more clues to what was going on; maybe there was a reversal spell to make me a fox again lying around.
A moan rang out, a whisper of the wind I reasoned, until I felt something brushing against my bare skin.
Where it brushed, my skin began to burn, my chest tightening from an unknown pressure. The bones near my feet gave a rattle, as if something was shifting them. Startled, I bolted from the room.
But it was like I was stuck in mud, my movements slow and jerky. It wasn't just because I was human, but something else, something that was trying to keep me captured in its claws.
An evil essence oozed into the room, filling the air with the scent of burning metal. Frightened, I fought against the force, kicking back to try and free myself. I made it to the doorway before I was released, getting thrown forward from my momentum.
The cavern walls gave a shudder, a groaning filling the air. Not waiting to find out, I ran past the entrance, deep into the long grass, before turning to face the cave. The opening seemed to be shrouded in shadows and I wondered if I was just overreacting.
A long clawed fingers wrapped themselves around the edges of the opening.
Needing no more warning, I legged it out of there, scrabbling through the grass and into bush land. I didn't stop until I had cleared that as well, panting. When I glanced back over my shoulder, there was nothing in sight. Heaving a sigh, I looked around my surroundings and noticed a small wooden cabin.
Curiosity piqued, I trotted up the little stone path to peer through a grimy window. The clattering of pots was heard inside and I rubbed my hand against the glass plane to see through better. The lady who looked back at me dropped the pan she was washing and jumped back from the soapy water.
Blinking at her, I stepped back and looked for the door.
What is it that humans do? Oh, yeah, knock.
I tapped my fist against the door several times before the door was wretched open violently. The lady was quite plump, a loose fitting dress hanging over her portly frame. Wispy black hair was tied with a strip of fabric, showing her wide, green eyes.
I looked down at my own body, finally realising my own nudity. As a fox, I didn't need to worry about clothing; but I soon remembered that humans saw being bare as a crime and an embarrassment.
"Oh my," she muttered. "Child, what are you doing in the forest?"
I merely blinked at her, until I realised that she wanted an answer. It dawned on me that I would have to communicate like a human if I was to get anywhere. My mouth gaped opened like a fish's as I struggled to speak. When I did make a sound, it was a cross between a gurgle and the sound of a fox yipping.
Clearing my throat, I started again and this time some words formed.
"I... don't... know," I croaked, a hand to my throat. It hurt to speak.
"Where are your parents? Friends?" she asked, leaning out of the doorway to look around. She drew back in quickly when I took a step forward.
"Can you... help me, please?" I whined. "I need to find the nearest town, to look for a magician."
"Not looking like that, you aren't," she replied, before gesturing me inside. "Come in and I'll get you fixed up. Then you can be on your way."
The woman led me into her house and into a small, cramped bathroom. She filled a small, cracked tub with water, before forcing me into it. The water stung the cuts on my feet, hands and knees, but it was heavenly on my aching body.
Afterwards, she brought me clothes and did my hair, tying it in a style like hers. Standing before the mirror, I admired the loose fitting shirt and the leggings she had found me. Wearing clothes wasn't all that bad.
Although...
I scratched the back of my neck, then my sides. Legs, backside, inside of ankles. I immediately regretted my decision to wear clothes. How could humans stand the itching? Half undressed, I hopped around the room and struggled to free myself from the blasted trap.
The lady suddenly appeared, opening up the door she had closed.
"Is something the matter?" she asked, brow furrowed. Concern, I assumed, as she rushed to help me.
She pulled the shirt back down over my arm and smoothed it out. My lip raised in a snarl; I had wanted to get rid of it. But when she looked up at me, all motherly and fussing over my appearance, I schooled my features.
"There. Now let's get you some milk," my spirit perked up at this, "and we can talk more about finding a magician."
The lady led me to a soft couch, throwing a soft rug over my legs. She bustled into her small kitchen, which was little more than a wide bench with numerous objects hanging above it, and returned with a large glass of milk. Smiling, I realised that being human was actually quite fun. I sculled the drink as she sat opposite me.
"Now, child, tell me where you came from?" she asked softly.
"I'm not too sure," I said slowly, wary of what I should tell her. If I told her I was a fox, then she might panic and try something.
"How can you not know?"
"I... I lost my memory," I lied, looking around. My eyes widened when I saw a sheet of paper on the wall, announcing the date. "Is that really the date?" I asked hurriedly.
"Yes, it is," she said softly. "You poor thing."
I was a poor thing indeed, because the date on that piece of paper was exactly a thousand years from my original time. I was not normally prone to panic attacks – I had them once or twice as a fox child - but now seemed like a good time to have one.
I didn't remember falling out of the chair or the nice lady shouting out; all I remembered was the warm embrace of darkness.