Halfblood by TobiMercer | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

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Chapter 13 - "Now that you mention it"

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He began studying the inscriptions intently, looking the sword up and down, managing to become completely deaf to any further questions. Layla seemed to take this as a challenge and began to pester him longer and louder. They seemed completely engaged with each other, so I took advantage of the distraction, grabbed my other mask and slipped out the door.

Rod wasn’t wrong. I hated changing form in front of others. Not just strangers. Anyone. It was a constant reminder of what I used to be and no longer was, and I didn’t exactly enjoy having that hurt on display.

So, while they were busy I went around the side of the building and dropped the bone-white mask on the ground. The eyeholes stared up at me awkwardly, the white side facing the ground. The inside of the mask was a blend of midnight and stardust, moonlight glinting off specks in the black paint used to hide the words of change etched into the very mask itself.  I took a breath. Summoned the memories.

I closed my eyes and memories flashed against them, lurching from one place to the next in search of life. Of love. Of anything other than isolation. I changed the tune, skin across my face pulling as the mask pulled itself free. The memories danced with the humming of the tune, snippets of fire and ash, of a human lying at my feet, bones exposed in the dirt. I reached forward in the memory, reached towards a chance, a hope of community. Of no longer being alone. The smell of smoke as I performed burial rites, the sharp odor rising as I formed a new identity. 

All of it slid past as I allowed myself to begin singing, long and low to myself, activating the native magic of the masks. The one against my skull began to fracture, my form twisting and shuddering as the mask pulled itself free. A new note entered, deep and forlorn as truth began to form. Layla’s story made sense, and it wasn’t the first I had heard of a similar nature. They were always sure of themselves when they were about to do something drastic, only to find out they were inevitably wrong.

Layla’s father wasn’t the rumored halfblood. Layla herself wasn’t even the one of legend.

The Onishiki mask began to fall. I shoved my head forward, not allowing my native form to take hold again. Humanity flooded my body as I shoved my head into the mask, body twisting and warping back into the familiar shape of a human. Hands shrunk, bones broke again. Fur shriveled and fell, replaced by short hair along my skin while a long, flat cluster grew along my scalp with speed. My knees bent and shattered before reforming, my wrists and arms lengthening as my snout was yanked backwards and flattened into a nose and mouth. My teeth twisted and shrank alongside my ears, the horns on my head falling out and clattering to the ground.

It was over soon enough, the ripped remains of my old clothes enough to cover the bits I needed to cover. I held the cloth against me as I struggled to straighten my spine and stumbled forwards. I hadn’t quite lost my belt of tools, but it rested awkwardly against my hip, a rip forming at the side. I hadn’t planned on shifting today, and therefore hadn’t taken the normal precautions. Rod should be able to get me some replacements, but the belt would have to be mended before it broke completely.

I readjusted the belt, pulling the loops tighter and glanced up at the sky. Golden streaks were radiating into yellow and red hues, the colors separating out into a sunrise. But the sun hadn’t broken over the horizon yet. All my powers were still intact for the moment.

Barefoot, I made my way around the back and found a set of large dumpsters still slouching against the building. I hiked myself onto the top and scaled the wall using a combination of natural hand-holds and digging my fingers through the brick. I hopped onto the roof and found a spot to sit, crossing my legs and watching the sun crawl across the sky.

I shouldn’t have been up here. I should have been hiding, or getting ready to hide. Go back into the gas station and talk to Rod. Something. But I had been cooped up in the Keeper’s hands for longer than I liked, then pulled out to track down and betray one of my own only to be chased from one point to the next and forced to drag an unenthusiastic cubling behind. I needed space. I needed air. I needed time to breathe and watch the sky.

I needed time to consider if I was going to leave her in Rod’s capable hands and ditch this whole venture. She already didn’t trust me completely, and I didn’t exactly blame her. It would be safer for her and for me if I just walked away right now.

The ones who killed her father weren’t after him. They weren’t after her. They got their signals crossed. I flashed back to the creature that pointed at us in the lobby. Pointed at me.

I curled my knees against my chest and rested my chin on them, staring out as the sun rose.


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