Metagore, The Battle For

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: House of Ghosts

Lord Moll'ar enjoys a picnic with his family

Chapter 19 (v.2) - Family Time

Submitted: May 04, 2017

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Submitted: May 04, 2017

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"Higher, Dadda! Higher!" Onnan happily shouted as his father tossed him into the air. The young boy's giggles brought squeals of joy from his baby sister, Athana.

The sun peeked through a sky full of wooly clouds, warming the air and making for the perfect day to play outside. Moll'ar was asked by his beautiful wife, Laurelin, to take a break and spend time with his family; for the seasons were changing and the weather would soon grow cold. Moll'ar had agreed, and asked for his duke to take care of any business that might crop up while he spent some personal time with his family.

They had set out a small picnic in the garden of their manor. Athana, still trying to figure out how to crawl, rolled back and forth beside her mother on the soft grass, looking to get in the perfect position to watch her father and brother play.

"You want to take a ride around the manor, Onnan?" Moll'ar asked chipperly, staring into his son's green eyes.

"Yeah," the little boy grinned, showing off the gap where he had lost his first tooth.

"Are you sure?"

"Dadda!"

"Alright then, get ready and hold on tight."

Moll'ar sat his son down, then got onto all fours as he morphed into his canine form. The change was relatively quick and painless aside from the discomfort from his smooth skin rapidly growing so much fur. He had learned from a young age to not scratch at his skin as the fur grew, due to the unpleasant side effect on his animal form not growing the fur properly and it causing chaffing and irritation in his elven form. He also learned that if he didn't want to fall on his face during the change, it was best to get closer to the ground---hence the reason for him to drop to all four limbs before morphing.

His snout lengthened, and his teeth grew out, the transformation brought more in and sharpened the ones he already had. His ears shifted towards the top of his head, and drooped down, while his spine curved and grew out a tail. His hands and feet cracked, and his arms and legs popped, as the bones shifted and changed to accommodate his animal form.

Unlike most male foo dogs, Moll'ar was closer to six feet tall, instead of the average height of just under five feet. His mane---along with the tuft of hair at the end of his tail and the longer fur around his legs---were a dark brown, similar to his elven hair; while the rest of his fur was a lighter tint---almost as if the sun had partially bleached it.

Onnan grabbed a handful of his father's mane, and climbed onto his back, then grasped a tuft of fur in each hand. Moll'ar took off sprinting, while his son released pealing giggles from his small body.

After making a trip around the estate's property, Onnan climbed down from his father's back, and Moll'ar became elven once more.

"Dadda," Onnan spoke, "when can I change like you and Momma?"

"Well Onnan, it takes a lot of patience and practice to get your animal form down. And even then, you have to be strong enough to control your animal spirit, because he will try to be in control once you transform."

"Can you show me? Please?"His lip perched in a pout, causing a small chuckle to escape from his mother, who had been watching them play.

"Husband, how about you show him? You know he will eventually try to change on his own if you do not," she said as she picked up Athana, who had found a small purple and red hydran beetle and was trying to reach for it.

"Do you really want to learn?" Moll'ar asked his son. "It may be hard at first, you know."

"Yes! I really, really want to try it!"

"Okay. There are a few things you need to know and understand first."

"Well? What are they?" Onnan replied, growing impatient with excitement.

"The first thing, when you are one with your animal spirit, you will change back into your elven form automatically if you fall unconscious." Moll'ar paused for a brief moment, making sure that his son was paying attention to what he was saying. He then continued, "Secondly, and most importantly, do not stay in your animal form for long periods of time. Since you will be new to the experience and the strain of morphing, it would be best if you only transformed for a moment. Just so your body can get use to the changes. Then later, slowly work your way up to staying changed for longer periods of time.?"

Onnan, with a huge grin on his small face, responded, "I can handle it, Dadda. I am a big boy, remember?"

Moll'ar chuckled slightly. "I do not think you are aware of the effects yet, Onnan. Staying in your animal form for too long could cause you to forget what you truly are---a morling---and it could cause you to be stuck in your animal form forever."

"Okay, Dadda, I understand. I can stay an animal for a short period of time. Got it."

Moll'ar spoke in a more firmer tone, as he began to explain the transformation process. "To train ourselves to become one with our animal spirit, we have to first understand what allows us to morph from our elven body to our animal form."

"And what is that?" Onnan asked eagerly.

"When Nya formed us, she made a space of inclusion in our genetics. With that inclusion, there is a massive number of possibilities that could stretch across our inner stitchings."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. What does this have to do with me transforming?"Onnan asked, growing impatient.

"I am getting to that, Onnan. Those inclusions form a second set of inner stitchings---that of the spirit animal we are given---but these stitchings are not as active or as prominent as the first."

"Okay. And?"

"We have to be totally aware of these stitchings of genetics, and we have to let them take over our mind and body."

"How do we do that, Dadda?"

"We have to have a clear mind, and the energy of our spirit animal will then envelope us. With our slates blank, all forms of manifestations, skills, and abilities can start to show up."

"Dadda..." Onnan dragged out, growing bored of the conversation, as he waved his arms back and forth. "When can I morph?"

Moll'ar grinned slightly, noticing his son growing antsy. "Close your eyes and clear your mind."

Onnan did as his father said, as a smile grew across his face.

Moll'ar continued, "Search your soul for your animal spirit, and become one with it. Allow it to take control over your body."

Onnan continued to grin. His body grew tense with excitement. After a few moments, of what he determined was him searching his soul, Onnan peeked open one of his eyes. His ecstatic expression soon fled from his face. "I do not have a spirit animal,"he pouted.

"You do," Moll'ar comforted his son, as he rubbed Onnan's back. "You have just got to practice."

"I know...I just want to know if I am going to be a foo dog like you, or a duba like Momma."

"You will find out soon enough...Now what do you say about us going and getting a bite to eat?" Moll'ar asked, as they walked back towards Laurelin, who was still holding Athana.

***

After three days of marching, the six thousand Alberian warriors had made their way out of the plains and into the mountains of BrightHelm. They trekked up the rocky cliffs, where powdery snow had already accumulated. The wind chilled their bodies as it brushed against them. Their breaths---growing heavy after their long march---produced steam as it exited their mouths. Little rodents scampered across the snow from out of bushes. The peppermint aroma lingered in the air from the few cedar and pine trees lining the base of the mountains.

As night had approached, the tribe sat up camp near the shores of Lake Sound. The ground was hard, and almost unbearable to sleep on; but the warriors knew that they had to sleep somewhere. Small waves crashed into the banks and ice patches shifted about on the water, as a morgawr, off in the distance, dove under the water; and a mokele-mbembe returned back to the water for the night. Sounds of rocs squawking in the trees, and of the dire wolves howling off in the distance, echoed through the mountains.

Off in the horizon, up Mount Boden, embers from a pheonix passing could be seen burning in the dark of the evening. After a few moments, the chirping of new life traveled down the side of the mountain.

As the last of the men fell asleep, an increase of the whickering of unicorns and the stampeding of hooves from a large herd of kirin close by could be heard approaching the campsite---as well as some boars scuffling passed the napping warriors.


© Copyright 2018 D. L. Stewart. All rights reserved.

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