Metamorphology

In Comalan, the term metamorphology refers to the study of any one of four styles of magic that are used to change one's appearance. These sorts of spells are frequently confused for one another, so many people throughout the have clamored for a guide that distinguishes these styles.

Illusion Magic- Seen throughout the world, illusions are the most common form of metamorphology. Illusions are used to create visual and auditory effects that are only observable to those who fall under their enchantment. Casters of illusion magic are known to employ three different techniques. The first is the creation of psychoactive chemicals that create illusions for all who inhale it. The second is the use of hypnotic techniques that can modify the perception of an individual subject. Finally, some illusionists can use simple light-refracting and sound-generating techniques to produce the desired effect on their immediate vicinity.

Glamour Magic- Common in Galeon, Resta, and parts of Midania,  glamour spells are used to alter a person's physical attributes. They are popular with people transgender people as well as those who are experimenting with their gender identity. The effects of glamour magic differ from illusion magic in that the change in form is physical. However, since these spells are generally offered either as a professional service or to spies looking to hide their true appearances, glamour spells are designed to be temporary.

Transformation- Transformation magic allows a caster to take the form of another creature entirely. This practice is practiced primarily by druids from Tanis, Resta, and Sister. This allows the druid to take the form of animal they have taken the time to bond with, assuming both their appearance and natural instincts. Some spellwarriors also possess the ability to transform into one of three ancient creatures. The thick-skinned Frostback pachyderm, the mystical Hempact phoenix, and the magically-infused Silverfist gorilla have long been extinct, so there is little question that to see one of these creatures  means you are looking at a rare breed of spellwarrior.

Shapeshifting- The practice of shapeshifting is a rare ability that allows one to alter the shape of their body at will. It's the least understood branch of metamorphology because shapeshifting can't be learned or taught. It occurs naturally in an incredibly small number of elves and has been seen in only one human throughout history. Lack of understanding has led to some fear among most people, but military forces who uncover a shapeshifter will inevitably attempt to conscript them in order to make use of their abilities.

Tales of the Starlight Crusade: What We Fight For

Absolutely hopeless. These words bubbled beneath the surface in the minds of Elidol and each of his companions for two years. No one dared to utter them because giving up hope was the only sure way to ensure their demise. But there was no other reason not to. After fighting the odds for so long, waiting for someone to find a way to cross the void of outer space and rescue them from Mennon, they all had so little left. Some bore this better than others. Eione seemed bored all the time, but reasonably focused on studying every corner of Saganta City. Harley always seemed to be having a good time since he figured out how to brew alcohol with local sea fruits. And James was always getting into trouble with one of those two.

Those three did a lot better at concealing their stress than anyone else. For his part, Elidol faced a daily struggle to keep his nerves in check. Many would consider these attempts to be a failure, however. To others, it always seemed like he was in a perpetual state of rage. While it was true that anger motivated him to come to this saltwater globe in the first place, he scarcely had time to think about his mission to punish Broger for his betrayal. Being trapped beneath an endless ocean with his friends and surrounded by enemies was a much more critical concern. It didn't help that everyone had somehow misinterpreted his focused intent on surviving long enough to get his revenge as leadership.

This didn't stop him from facing the challenges that his comrades and enemies alike laid in front of him. Several days without sleep had found him incredibly irritable and anxious. The last time he'd gone this long without rest, Ekera had held him down in bed to force him to sleep. But there was no shortage of things to keep him up. This time, it was a damaged water purifier. This was a device that Shar and his renegade Sho'kai followers had no use for and only Aennin had the expertise to maintain. But she was consistently busy with every other machine that the Comalanians needed to survive this other world. This left him with the responsibility of trying to learn everything she knew.

It wasn't always successful.

"No, no, no! The other way! If you tighten that crank too much with those gorilla arms of yours, you're going to break it!"

After all of his angry outbursts, there were only three people left with the guts to say speak so boldly to him. Aennin always seemed to have a bit of a death wish, so she didn't seem to have any reservations with testing his patience.

"I'm going to crank your head one of these days," Elidol grumbled.

Aennin sighed and dropped her socket wrench. "I'm sorry. I know you have a lot of other crap to worry about. But you need to loosen that. We want to drain this entire valve so we can clear out the gunk."

"Right," Elidol said with exhaustion as he turned the crank in the opposite direction.

"You know, no one really expects you to help me with this," Aennin said as she leaned back against the wall from her perch on top of the drainage tank. "There are plenty of people here who don't have anything better to do. Why do you feel the need to be involved with everything?"

"Everyone else is too miserable. I don't want to pile extra work on top of their torment," Elidol grumbled. "The only two people who could use the extra work are the drunk and your ward."

Aennin nodded and threw her arms behind her head. "Eione would definitely balk at something like this. I don't even think telling her she's the only one smart enough to trust with assisting me would help."

"Kaleth doesn't seem to be busy," Elidol grunted as he removed the valve he was instructed to. "I'm sure he'd be most willing to help if it means spending time with you."

Aennin chuckled. "If you leave us alone together, I guarantee nothing will get done. What about Volt?"

"If you want her help, you can ask her yourself," Elidol said with a sigh. "She really misses Gyanda and the fact that I look exactly like him has been making things kind of awkward around her."

"Yuck," Aennin said as she made a sour face. "If I catch her in a mood to talk, I'm definitely going to hear a lot about that. What about Telandra?"

Elidol shook his head as he began to kick down the loosened valve. "I need her where she is. The Sho'kai in the city are only cooperating with us because they revere her for some reason. Can't have her getting dirty and ruining her saintly image. And Ekera's out too because taking care of our food situation is a full time job. What about Desmond?"

"What's a saint without her attendant?"

Elidol sighed. "James?"

Aennin shook her head uncomfortably and Elidol immediately understood why. As useful as he'd proven to be with his intelligence gathering skills, he wasn't discriminate enough in the application of these abilities.

"Never mind him. We need him keeping his eyes and ears peeled for threats." He emphasized that last word, knowing the windlord would probably be listening.

"Well, that answers my question," Aennin concluded. "Still, it can't be healthy to be doing so much even for a freak of nature like yourself."

Elidol rolled his eyes as he shoved aside the removed valve. "I'm tired, Aennin. There's no point in denying that. But you know what will happen if any of us stops moving for even a moment. We have to survive until this fleet from back home gets here."

Aennin groaned and jumped down to the floor. "This sucks."

What Have You Done To Me?

Deidre,

I would have written sooner, but I was only just released from the stockade today. I was arrested for breaking a man's jaw in anger. I have never stricken another man before, but so much has happened in my life lately that I never thought possible. I never thought a friend would turn to ridicule me for failing as a provider and husband. I never thought you would leave us to fool around with that slut you call your "friend". I never thought I would forget about our children because I was blinded with rage.  Our world has changed so much this year and I can't help but blame you for some of it.

I was lost when I found your letter. It took you just fifty-two words to explain why you left. Fifty-two words to justify forsaking me, Jonathon, and Emily. Looking back, that was where my unyielding anger began. The idea that the past fifteen years we have spent together was worth only fifty-two words was a slap in the face. I have never hurt you, but have worked hard to keep you and the children as happy and healthy as possible. I have given my soul to make your life as easy as I could and I have given you experiences that have paled in comparison seemingly only to whatever you have with Annette. I deserved better than to have lost you, never mind to have it explained away with the paltry sum of only fifty-two fucking words!

With that in mind, I wasn't about to give up on you. I left the children with poor Clara thinking she could use some wholesome company after what became of her husband. I then took to the road when I should have been resting from my last hunt. If nothing else, I wanted to get the explanation I deserved. I wanted you to look into my eyes and tell me that this was how little our family mattered to you. But along the way, I ran into the magic-wielding brigand that destroyed Edward and Clara. I gave him everything I had so he would let me pass. I thought that was the end of it, but now that I think back, the righteous anger I felt seemed to deepen after that encounter.

That was when I found my first deer in months. What irony it was to have struggled for so long to provide for you only to find this damned creature after I had already failed. I fear this wasn't the most logical thread of thought to follow, but I became infuriated nonetheless. I chased that animal deep into the woods and may have crossed into Tanis at some point. I wanted that unlucky bastard's hide, and to take its meat to my children. But before I could catch it, we both ran afoul of a larger predator. The deer rightfully belonged to the bear at that point, but I couldn't accept that. With nothing but my bow, I fought the beast and lost.

I woke up back in the village, embittered by my foolish mistake. Within days I had become an even bigger village fool than Edward, who looks more and more like a wanton wench by the day. That was when Joseph made the remarks that caused me to hit him. The most terrifying part was the satisfaction I felt when I sent him sprawling to the ground. It was as if my mind rewarded me for indulging my anger. I don't understand what's happening to me, but I know the anger isn't going away. But who is to blame? Is it you for betraying me so carelessly? Was it the bandit's sinister magic that did this to me? Or has this anger been hiding within me my whole life, waiting to be expressed? I don't know, and I'm starting to wonder if I even need to.

So, instead of continuing my journey to confront you, I am writing this letter to express the feelings you have left me with. I'm not sure I can even trust them after meeting the Robber in Robes. But here is what I can tell you: I'd better not see you ever again, for your own safety. I will never see the children again, either. Clara is good with them and she needs them a lot more than I do at the moment. Although you certainly don't deserve it, you can rest easy knowing they're safely out of the way of the man their father has become. I can't promise myself that I won't hurt anyone again, and a growing part of me looks forward to it. If only you could see what's become of me thanks to you, you would recoil in terror and I'd welcome it.

Sincerely,

Avery Hawke