Drown In Black

A line, a ruler stretching as far the eye can see. The singular road, a preordained journey. To stray from it, to abandon the ease of following it, seemed like an impossible task. Both by the strength of legs, as if it was a steep hill, a cliff reaching far upwards, and by the strength of will, to overcome the unwillingness, the groove it had set itself into. It seemed so easy, so effortless, to continue onwards, unquestioning, with the calm of meeting no opposition, nothing to challenge that direction. But was this what she wanted? To just go on, disappear into the distance, forgotten and with no trace left behind? No, that was not it, this place seemed more and more like a trap. If she left, she felt she would lose something. Something precious to her, even if it was so hard to remember what it was.

This place was so simple, just black and white, without even a shadow between them, nothing to dull the jarring transition between the two opposing poles of both colour and meaning. There were no difficult shapes, nothing to let her gaze wander over, to study and get lost in. Just the line, straight and true, an arrow let go with nothing in its path. And then its surroundings. Blindingly white, so much it hurt the eyes, forced her to look away. A hostile world, nothing to see, nowhere to hide, just infinite stretch of piercing light. Chasing her away, both blazing hot, scorching her skin, her eyes, and freezing cold, stopping her in her tracks, leaving her to shiver, to agonizingly slowly lose all sense, to become a frozen statue, and then disappear in the white, just a speck in the infinite expanse. And through it, like a wound, a border, a wall before the torrent of light, still standing in the face of unceasing onslaught, pierced the line. Seeming so thin, so fragile, yet still there, unyielding. So inviting to walk it... but she was still reluctant. It seemed like a point of no return. One for which she didn't have enough information to decide right now.

And that was something she refused to do. She would do this on her own terms, if ever. Sure, it required her to grit her teeth and power through it, and seemed harder the longer she loitered here, the longer she delayed the decision, but... but she needed this choice. And she had no intention to give it to someone, or something, else.

So for now, the first thing she had to do, was to focus on waking back to reality - or what she perceived as such.

You spend a long time sleeping. A side effect of the continued transformation. Yet I seem to want to talk to you instead.

Once again, she woke to Orineth half standing half hovering in the room. Though this time, the gravity seemed to be gripping the Qyroran better. The pair of legs which had coalesced below its body for once stood on the ground, and almost gave the illusion - or maybe it wasn't one - of supporting its weight. And its body was now slim and even without any distinct features, Sanja felt like looking at a mirror. One she was willing to look into, one that bore the promises given by the Tarika before her.

"You stay here all the time?" asked Sanja, vaguely remembering the last time she fell asleep, in the wake of another long debate with Orineth. If it left afterwards, she didn't, couldn't, know. But now, after an unknown amount of time, it was still - or again - here.

Not all the time. Mostly only when we talk. But I have to check your physical state, which can be done even with you asleep.

"Are you claiming to be my doctor? ... No, don't answer that. Instead, tell me what you wanted to talk about. The time here is inexorably slow. And without your presence, boring. What am I to do? Lie and watch the ceiling? What do you even do in your spare time?"

Spare time? I am not familiar with its meaning, I am afraid.

"I don't know. Reading books, making art, talking with friends... or whatever the popular people do...," she replied.

Is reading or art not a form of self improvement, designed to further your abilities and knowledge? That at least is my understanding of the activity.

"Sure," sighed Sanja, exasperated, "But did it never occur to you, people do it for other reasons as well? Sure, sometimes you have to learn even when you aren't exactly happy to do so. ...But reading books is fun. A hobby. That you saw me do that a lot in my memories, I'm sure, should give you some clues. ... Also, we have already spoken about stories, no? And books are their prime repository."

Forgive my oversight. There still seems to be a lot for me to learn... And I am glad our dialogue alleviates your boredom.

"You don't exactly have to apologize... And talking is fine. Though I will soon run out of stories to tell. My memory is not infinite. There are things I once knew, but have already forgotten."

That can be rectified. ...Not forgotten knowledge, but the ability to retain it.

"What are you talking about?" eyed Sanja the Tarika suspiciously.

As was already said before, this change results in a more effective platform... my apologies, body... a more reliable mind, or memory, can be a desirable result. It is true for most changes, physical attributes are paramount, but in this case, a grunt is certainly not it. ...I have already based the design on your desires. This would be no different.

"You do realize, how creepy that sounds, right? ... You know my mind is untouchable. I am me, and I want to remain me," growled Sanja. Maybe part of her response was irrational. She was quite certain Orineth wasn't antagonistic. At most indifferent, but that was a word that would fit the situation from the time when she was caught. Since then, the Qyroran had expressed interest, inquisitiveness, and even some level of emotional range when dealing with her. But that didn't mean it wouldn't be clueless, or considerate. And even if the offer seemed reasonable to it... Sanja's response very well expressed her sentiment. ... And now, she was seething... Oh, it was saying something.

...Your discomfort is noted, but not needed. I was made well aware of your unwillingness to any invasive actions upon your mind. The proposed change would only concern the available capacity, not your use of it. Imagine a better tool, not a fundamental change.

She sighed. This would take a while, but maybe she would be able to persuade it to step down.

As she was ending her tale, she noticed Orineth was still listening intently. At least based upon its body language, which seemed similar to the one she knew - that is, used by humans - but she couldn't be sure the shadowy being had understood it properly. Also, it seemed unnervingly smooth, riveting her gaze to it, half out of maybe some perverse curiosity, half out of fascination. Its body was even more pronounced now, slowly gaining a more solid form, even if still made out of shadows and ichor - although the liquid was becoming a more common part, maybe even dominant. And unlike the one she knew from all around, the one she could influence, this was far outside her scope, and had a firmer quality, as if somewhere between liquid and solid state.

"...You've become more invested in my tales lately," Sanja said, while shaking her head, reminding herself not to wonder about her ability to control the ichor... as that's where her thoughts strayed, of course.

You become more animated when telling them. It is a curious change. And they give me greater insight into your culture. ... Though I have to wonder, why all the romances that you include seem the same to me. At least their pattern. Or is it that these stories require such relation?

"...I'm stupid. Of course you wouldn't care about their 'appropriateness'," she scowled, adding a heavy accent upon the last word. Why would an eldritch being care about the society's ideas on relationships? It has shown itself many times to be clueless about these topics. But she, of course, still chose her tales like this. Even if the tales were great, and some of those great heroes of yore, be they real or fictional, were once, or still, her role models. There were still parts that left her unsatisfied. And, again, she willingly starved herself. She smiled. Not anymore. She had a large backlog. Time to use it.

"You're right. I have been withholding some things, although unwittingly. Honestly, who cares whether the guy gets the girl? It had always seemed so artificial to me. But that, of course, is not the only option. So, as you've requested, time for more stories."

...Sounds interesting. And you seem to be more than enthusiastic. Go on.

Orineth settled to listen more, intrigued by the promised change. Sanja's shift in demeanour showed she was significantly more responsive to the stories she was about to tell. And the Tarika couldn't help but look forward to it.

...It has taken decades to traverse the desert. Whilst the ichor does not dry out in the heat, it still loses parts of its liquid properties, which had set us back for quite a while. Many of our soldiers could not march. In the end, a decision was made to transform the desert. We would not fight against the sand, we would make it our ally. The process was slow. I remember spending days at a time, directing a mixing of the sand grains and the ichor, slowly turning it black. But for every changed amount, much more was still left. The change did not want to spread in the heat. And, as we had found, the sand was a few dozens of meters deep. We had to spend a long time there.

During that time, two important discoveries were made. One was the dried river southwest from us, to which we had also found the original source. A few years were spent to restart the flow, which would allow us to operate deeper in the desert. The other was a qualitative change of our ichor. We were able to allow for greater changes in climate, without it affecting our capacity. These two novelties had allowed us to speed up the process, which had ended in the creation of our domain in place of the desert. It was still sand based, but with a netting of rivers and creeks, and with the capacity for the support of Qyrora based life.

"I'm still trying to imagine a land of black you're describing... And wondering what will happen with Darreha or its surroundings."

That is not yet decided. Such a fundamental change is not always necessary or even ideal. As for insufficient information to imagine it properly, it is possible to go there at some point in the future.

"You're offering?" raised Sanja an eyebrow, "How magnanimous of you. I'm sure not one of your wards was given such an offer."

I recognize sarcasm when I hear it... now, Orineth added, remembering earlier interactions, But you are the first I talk with like this. So, your expectations is proven correct, by virtue of having no competition.

Why could she almost see a smile on the Qyroran's face? It still did not have a mouth, but, for some reason, she could imagine it, feel the smirk of this strange being she had been straddled with.

"So you would pamper any girl like this?" she couldn't hold back. Her traitorous tongue had gotten the better of her. For a long while now, she had to restrain herself. She could not see Orineth as an enemy. And with that, some part of her came free. She could never imagine she would be cracking jokes, especially in a situation like this. And truthfully, she felt she owed quite a lot to her captor - a word, she no longer felt like it fit. Giving her her dream body? That was literally a wish come true. And she knew she was changing. Even if she didn't want to look. Didn't want to admit it to herself, lest it became a hallucination, a dream. She pointedly ignored anything that happened to her body in the past few days... weeks? Or maybe months? She had no idea - when was the last time she saw the sun? Definitely not the day she was captured. That day was cloudy.

Instead, she focused on Orineth's changes. And there were many. From the intangible, sometimes almost invisible being into the person in front of her. Much more assured and confident, also pointedly similar to a human's shape. But just far enough to be mysterious, to tease Sanja's imagination, to leave her wondering, what would Orineth look in the end.

...Is being a girl really so important to you? I mean... you had rebuffed me on that idea alone. It stood like a cornerstone of your being, an anchor.

"Of course it did. That was the one thing I fought out for myself, something I'll never again back off from. You said you did not know gender, so..."

That is the point. I did not. But it is... intriguing. Especially seeing you so sure in who you are. ... And then there is me, a Tarika of this army, yet just a shadow of self. You were the one who brought out individuality from me, you know?

"At least you learn more about yourself, no?" replied Sanja.

And that is maybe the terrifying thing...

How much time had passed again, how many times had the sun crossed the sky somewhere far, or even close, above, how close had the authorities come to the realization no one of the expeditionary force would be coming back? The flow of time had changed into a wide river, with no banks visible on either side, just the slow, lazy flow with no drive, with just the languid roll forward, yet almost invisible for how slow it is. But still, there were flowers floating on the water, tiny and large, specks of colour in the murky river. Thrown there by a careless hand, a hand that had no idea what it was doing. But what it caused had inadvertently flown down the stream. Now a human and a Qyroran were talking together, any antagonism gone from the unchanging room, just the pair talking, again and again, drops slowly filling the river.

I never thought learning about a different culture, different species, could be so interesting. It is certainly a new experience, said Orineth, filling the silence that fell after Sanja finished another story, this time about the revenge of a warrior, whose lover was killed in battle.

"Well, if your kind really changes based on what you encounter in life, it had certainly been enlightening. I wouldn't recognize you, compared to when we met...," she scowled, "...As much as that was not a pleasant meeting."

I concur. That, I would definitely change... And much more. I wonder, I have seen you change, throughout the entirety of it. Yet never once you commented on it. Are you holding back? Or is your mind holding you back, wishing it was real, whilst knowing very well it is? But even when you do not comment, it is visible to me. You are, even if only subconsciously, acknowledging it. I have seen you before. You look much more at peace with yourself now, even if you had to take my help.

"I did, right? And many a time I wondered whether it was the correct choice. ...And you don't have to analyze me so closely, it gets unsettling, even if it is amazing how good you got at it."

It is not just because of some analysis... almost whispered Orineth, yet Sanja was not listening. She was just told the transformation was pretty much complete, right? She would get to be a girl in body, not only in mind. But that would also mean she had changed, right? She was no longer human, instead, she would be some sort of Qyroran creation...  Not like that amalgamation, hopefully. No, she knew she had retained human shape, even if not everything was familiar. But instead of familiar, it was instead - like a long lost home. It was her body so much more than what puberty had given her. Maybe it was not fully human, but did it matter? Maybe there were parts she normally wouldn't have, like her new hand, but really, what was normal anymore? She was changed, transformed. And from now on, wouldn't it be normal what she was given, this new - Qyroran - body? She wouldn't be the only one changed, though. Like a strangely distorted mirror, there was Orineth. Changing right beside her, becoming something new, and, as it had admitted, more attuned to itself. Actually, wasn't it saying something just now?

...what I wanted to say with this... even if it sounds incredibly stupid... it is just... as I thought about what you said... it was strangely familiar... I am repeating myself, right?... So, I... think I might be a woman...

What? What did Orineth just say? Was it really...? That would... explain the shape i-...she was getting - it reflected her inner self, right? And that would mean she had gotten where she had wanted, even if she did not know. She was now complete... and with it, Sanja was complete as well.

Orineth saw as she smiled, her mouth's corners turning upward. Of course she would be fine with this, she chided herself. There was no point in being nervous.

Yet a moment later, that smile froze on Sanja's face. And then slowly, haltingly, came to a neutral expression, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

Sanja? she asked, tentatively. She got no response. Just the silence and the unmoving mask. A mask which was slowly... no, incredibly quickly, becoming horrifying. And she was still unmoving. Not even a muscle.

Then, the realization dawned on her. She knew exactly what this signified, she had seen in before. But never participated. And definitely never cared. Not like this. She knew before she cared for Sanja, but not like this. Now, she was livid. But still, she held back. Clamped down on the anger, threatening to spill out. There was one thing. One thing she had to do before... she did not want to think of that. Even if it was almost certain. There was still some chance...

Codename Sanja. Awaken. Stand up.

The horror was real. The one thing she did not want to happen. The one thing she was sure would not happen. She made sure of that. She was the one who crafted the transformation. And she knew what she was doing. And Sanja's mind was resilient. But... no. Instead, she slowly turned her head to her, then mechanically, unnaturally, slid her legs from the table-bed and stood up. And then stood, stood, awaiting the next command.

Orineth's visage turned dark. The beast surged out for just moment, immediately bound by the cold chains of ruthless determination. She could rage later. Now, she had to get Sanja back. And make whoever did this pay.