What is a human anyway if you take their capacity to think, to be self-aware?
Nothing, an animal.
LoG, 18
Of all the unknown scents and sounds that surrounded him, the black panther could only recognise that irritating voice. It was the sole thing he could understand, only this calmed him down.
He instinctively obeyed the speaker.
He bared his fangs and stepped away from his prey. The mangled body was twitching in a vain, in a helpless attempt to stand up, until it finally settled down on the floor. Then the panther started to pace forward and backwards. He was feeling trapped. His brilliant eyes were scouting the inside of the room; he was looking for a high place to climb.
The lean black animal noticed a window sill; he got on top of it and jumped out the window.
The panther heard the cursing behind and concluded that the strange black bird followed him. He didn't pay too much attention to this.
Several humanoids with torches stood close by to him and talked. When they saw him, they let out piercing screams. After regaining their composure, they waved torches in front of them in a threatening manoeuvre.
The panther would have preferred to feast on their delicious flesh, but the reflection of the flame burned his pupils, warning him. The prudent animal retreated, bouncing backwards. More people were coming now, gathering at the dwelling from which he came. All those people were troubled and brought noise, light and fire.
The panther stumbled into the dark alley and merged with the environment. He sensed claws on his back and engaged in a warning snarl.
"Come on, what's wrong with you, you idiot? It's me, "Mina!" the bird screeched. "Mina as in ... Right now, I am your just about only means of communication with the outside world."
The black beast opened its jaw widely. He murmured with a deep bass: "Get out of the way, little one, so I won't have to swallow you in one bite."
"Ooh, look who's finally grown some balls. But let me tell you something. That's not how we're gonna play, Drian! You transform once and you all of a sudden think you're the most important person ever." Mina shrieked. Nevertheless, the bird flew away towards a nearby window. He was now watching the black panther from a decent distance.
"Who is this ... Drian ... you are talking about?" The big cat shook his head.
"This Drian is you, empty head."
"Watch what you're saying!" the panther easily jumped to the window sill, covering the bird's tail with a paw. He snorted, entertained by the scene. The mynah bird that was simultaneously trying to get rid of the unpleasant situation and to save his own tail did look rather funny.
"Okay, okay! You've won! Rewind, let's go back in time ... Lemme go and I'll explain everything." Mina struggled frantically.
"And how about you explain everything first, you little-feathered beast." A deep laughter erupted from the panther's throat. "I will then, if your explanation pleases me, let you go."
"Sure, sure. We can do it that way too," replied the black ball with an orange beak.
"You may begin." the panther rose and looked at mynah with interest.
The bird coughed, cleared its throat and recited. "Your name is Drian. You are Nalon's son, a Junior Abbot and a Man of Cloth. You are extremely dedicated to The Mind and The Fount."
"You mean, I'm a human cub." That amused the king of darkness.
"Yeah! Don't you remember? You like ... to paint and ...," the panther's jaws approached, "your best friends are Ula and Liton, the daughter of Village Chief and The Leader of the Wellers!" the bird screamed.
A multitude of images invaded the panther's brain. He shook his head again as if trying to comprehend them. Ula's dark hair that falls up to her waist ... Liton's laugh ... The darkness of the underground tunnels ... My father's handshake.
"Do you believe me now?" The bird was careful not to approach too close to the panther.
"I ... I do have memories of the human beings you are talking about," the giant cat hissed, confused.
"I'll pr ... I'll prove it to you! This is all true! Just ... just let me touch one spot on your body. We have little time!"
The panther nodded almost imperceptibly.
The bird landed on his back again, rummaging around. "Aaalrighty then ... Just a little more ... I think I found it! It should be enough for the first time," Mina said and pecked a symbol on the panther's spine.
The panther curled up, growling and twisting as if he was being diminished from the pain. The black hair disappeared and instead of it a worn-out shirt and horribly filthy linen trousers appeared.
Drian was sitting in the dust, still baring his teeth and waving his hands as if trying to pull out the claws. Then he calmed down and clasped his head. "I ... what? What just happened? I was quarrelling with my father, then ... I was painting, yes, and then I got inside my painting. There was a grass blade, I touched it, and I got inside. The wolves ... The panther!" he stammered, as it all came back to him. Then he stared at his bare hands and feet. "I had claws!" he cried out.
"Shush! You want the whole village to hear us? Claws you used well. The question is whether old Nalon made it out alive?"
"You ... You can talk?" Drian was scared senseless.
"Oh, now you're realising that, you dumdum. Who do you think you've been talking to for the last fifteen minutes? Who stopped you from killing your own father? Now that The Etching has awakened your power, you should be able to understand me in any form. And, you know, it's good it is so! For many Big Ones, I have endured you calling me Mina as if I were a female! You will finally ..." the bird ceased his babbling and looked around without seeing Drian. Then Mina discerned Drian's figure moving toward The Namas in which he lived.
"Father! Father!" Drian was shouting frantically, distraught.
"Wait, Drian! We haven't yet agreed on what kind of story we will ..." Mina caught up to him in a doorway.
The house was full of people, and one of Drian's closest neighbours called out: "Drian! Your father! Something wounded him in the chest pretty badly. He seems to have hit his head on the ground! We tried to wake him up, but we failed. Here we are organising ourselves to take him to the nearest Curatory!"
"I'm going with you," Drian said resolutely.
Mina placed himself on Drian's shoulder. "They will suspect an animal attacked him. Just confirm that you saw a big beast moving away from your Namas. In addition, it's The Dark. Your story will be convincing. Hmmm ... and yes, this speech of mine? It'll make everyone around you feel like they are listening to an unbearable screeching."
"Now you're telling me," Drian murmured watching the people plug their ears and curse the black bird.
"I'll tell you how and what to do next," the feathered ball said, then hid its head in the back. "I'm gonna pretend I'm sleeping," Mina whispered.
The rest of The Dark flew before Drian's eyes like a blurred vision or a dream. Him carrying his father's body, laying it on the bed, The Curators waving their hands, talking gibberish ... Drian felt wrong looking at the wounded father who wasn't waking up. The body of the man who raised and fed him was covered in wounds. The wounds he himself inflicted.
What if he isn't waking up because a beast or a man didn't cause his wounds? It was a man in the shape of a beast. Will he ever wake up? What if ... what if he dies and the last conversation we had was a dumb row?
Everyone had already left The Curatory and went to bed. Only Drian lingered there, like the creature of the night, keeping watch over his father's sleep. The guilt consumed him.
The bird knows more than I could ever think. Actually, she seems to know everything about me. It would be useful to ask her. Or "him." It's becoming increasingly difficult to deal with him in a feminine gender when he speaks with this swearing bass.
"What am I?" his burning question ripped through the silence.
The bird sighed. "It's time for that conversation, I guess," he stretched and swelled his feathery chest. "Eh, better sooner than later, I suppose," Mina concluded. "You are... The Shape Changer," the mynah bird said slowly.
"The Shape Changer as in ... a creature from a legend that can transform the pigments in his "slash" her body to take on the appearance and physical personality of any animal?"
"Nicely said," the bird whistled in approval. "I didn't have to make any effort to explain anything to you."
Drian took a deep breath. He tried to calm down and deal with the information in a rational way. "Assuming that such a thing exists and is not the object of a legend or page from an ancient book ..." he began cautiously, analysing the situation as if it were not about him, "Why did my power manifest now? And ... why the black panther?"
"The answer to the first question: the power manifests when it fucking wants to manifest. The answer to the second question: I have no idea." the bird grinned.
"Are you also The Shape Changer, then?" Drian was in a sour mood, unsatisfied with the answers he had received.
"Let's leave that story for some other time," the bird murmured. "The only thing you need to know is that my real name is Malik," he added, his beak running up and down his feathers in a cleaning motion. "I hope you won't call me Mina again while I'm alive."
"Does my father know? Did he suspect that something like this would happen?" The worm of doubt was burrowing through Drian's brain. "Hence so much insistence I stay in the ranks of The Men of Cloth?"
Malik blinked. "Ask him when he wakes up, but ... yes, it is widely known that a state of elevated emotional excitement can cause transformation ... As it happened to you when you ... entered your painting and ... No! Don't ask me anything else about it." The bird raised his wing as if to preempt a flurry of questions.
Drian sighed. He seemed to receive answers, but they weren't accommodating. He was getting increasingly entangled in his new parallel life.
One step forward, two steps back, he thought. To summarise today's impressions: I buried The Sceptagog in The Glass Dome, entered my painting, turned into a panther and almost murdered my father.
His next thoughts flew out aloud. "This ... condition ... can happen whenever I'm angry, nervous, or feeling threatened? That means I could, for example, transform in the middle of The Light at The Market Square? Attack the inhabitants of Bronze Cliff without knowing what I'm doing?"
"Yes," Malik said seriously. "And yes, this transformation remains for your entire life, as a necessary evil. But don't worry, I don't see you getting angry often. You are quite a calm, nice ... Boring guy. It takes time and practice to learn to handle your animal form. To control when you're turning into a panther and when into a dull priest," Malik chuckled.
"Can you show me that?"
"No."
Drian swore. "Then we have to go find someone who can do it. If I have to learn to live with the new me, let it be so, but I don't ... I don't want to hurt anyone in the process."
"Great! Plus, you saved me from persuasion."
"So you wanted to lead me to such a place?"
"Absolutely. Not only did I want it, but they ordered me to bring you. Also, these people may know the way to save your father," Malik added.
"Then you will take me to them. We'll head out when The Light comes in." Drian glanced at The ViewStone, which was now giving away bright yellow colour. "Which should be very soon."
The bird yawned. "Can you shut up for a little while and rest? I get it; you're excited about what you learned, but ... This Dark was full of occurrences. I need my beauty sleep."
"I can shut up, but I can't sleep. Well, at least one of us will get some sleep," Drian said. He noticed that the mynah bird had already dozed off. Drian had nothing to do but to listen to the chattery snoring of his feathered friend, turning recent events around his head.
Ula's gentle hand startled him as he was sitting at his father's bedside. "Hey. You should sleep," she said.
"I can't," he replied for the umpteenth time.
"Drian, don't bother yourself. You're not to blame for what happened. It's gonna eat you up inside. Father thinks the lost beast was maybe an Abomination. It attacked your Namas first because it is on the outskirts of the village. He says he will organise hunting with other villagers as soon as The Light comes in. Dad will comb the village surroundings, and especially the holes in the ground and the caves in the cliff."
"I am grateful to him for that," Drian mumbled.
How many innocent animals will die because I was the one who attacked my father?
"You know what I was thinking? I saw an oil lamp burning in your dormitory up until late. Were you once again painting during The Dark? Maybe the animal was drawn to the light."
"That's silly," Drian retorted. "Beasts flee from light."
"Fucking fool. The chick is offering you an alibi on the platter, and you are refusing it," the bird muttered, head still stuck in the back. "Besides, is that a way to talk to your friend?"
Drian wiped his sweat from his forehead. "Ula," he said to the girl who was already at the door. "I'm sorry. I'm nervous. I'm not in a good mood. It's very possible you're right."
"No matter," Ula whispered. "Shall I take your place? The Curator says Nalon's condition is stable, but he doesn't guarantee your father will wake up soon. His body functions are normal ... for now. Whatever attacked him is not a common beast. The father is afraid for the whole village."
"Do you promise you will take my place?" Drian said, in a strange tone of voice. Ula's facial expression turned into an understanding one.
"Drian ... if this is because of what happened in The Glass Dome..." she began, "My father says he will talk to Kamil and calm him down. You can get your old job back. We all know how close you are with The Wellers. This time you had to take part in The Desiccation of one of them ... It's understandable that you did what you did. I mean ... It was the moment of your disruption; you wanted to make it up to your friends. You don't have to ... you don't have to leave the village for that. Especially now, when you have to be with your father," Ula added, holding onto the door.
"Watch what you tell her," Malik screeched. "I wouldn't give away your secret, for the time being."
"I heard there were well-known Curators outside the village who might help him. There must be a cure for this state of his. Besides, I ... I no longer see myself among The Men of Cloth. I need a break. I have to leave for a while."
"I understand you. And ... I thought you'd say something like that," Ula sighed. "Drian ... You've always been a special child. Even when we were little, I had the feeling that you don't belong here. I hope you will find what you're looking for," Ula finished, and the two hugged each other.
"Also, I promise I will look after Nalon," she confirmed.
"Well well, look who is saying goodbye! So that you know, I've heard the whole conversation. My ears work remarkably well under the ground. And I thought I was the only one who was bidding farewell to friends. So, the trio is breaking up," the familiar, humorous voice grunted.
Drian and Ula jumped up, looking downward.
The yellowish fingernails, the head and then the rest of Liton's body emerged out of a freshly dug tunnel on the earthen floor in a small Nalon's room in village Curatory. He shook the lumps of the earth off of his head and shoulders and then came to Nalon's bed.
"This guy has style," Malik whistled in approval.