Finding Lyssandrea Gulfrig was less of a chore than Ambrose had expected. The professor was on her own in a fenced off training yard at the corner of the Academy nearest the castle proper. The woman was doing training of her own when Ambrose stepped past the gate into the dirt yard to find the Scion out of her armor and wielding a large cumbersome practice blade. The professor moved through several series of complex movements with a practiced fluidity that made the Beastiary stand and watch, rather than interfere with the sophisticated, but beautiful, routine. Only when the scion paused and noticed her did the show stop.

  Lyssandrea stabbed the heavy tip of the two handed practice blade into the ground, leaning her weight on the pommel of the large weapon. “Ah. Ambrose. I expected to see you closer to the weekend, after some classes and evaluations,” she said with a smirk. “Did you prove too much of a mystery for your first period professor and get sent to me?”

  “Something like that,” Ambrose said with a shrug, not really wanting to go into the detail. “Suffice to say, the Headmaster sent me here requesting a ‘complete re-evaluation of my talents and needs’ to be delivered by the end of the day,” Ambrose quoted.

  Lyssandrea's eyes widened at that before narrowing suspiciously. “What kind of trouble did you get into for him to make that request?” Lyssandrea demanded.

  Ambrose sighed. “I… beat up his little sister and then tied another M rank in a one on one exhibition,” she summarized, not really wanting to go into it. Her guarded nature told her not to give this woman her information, but in order to get the things she needed for each of her forms, she was going to have to be honest and up front. At least this once.

  Lyssandrea's mouth fell open in disbelief and she stared at Ambrose for a long moment. “You ‘beat up’ a level 14 S rank?” She asked. When Ambrose nodded, she took a deep breath, looking like she was ready to start screaming. Yet when she let the breath loose, there was no sound save for a soft sigh.

  Shaking her head, she zeroed in on the Beastiary again, determination in her eyes. “We are going to cycle through each of your forms. You will shift, tell me their special statistics and we will figure out your equipment needs for each one at a time. If you are unsure of what weapons would be best, we'll spar and have you use training weapons. Do not skip out on any of your forms or any of your skills.”

  Ambrose became uncomfortable at those demands, and obviously visibly uncomfortable because the professor softened her expression when she noticed. “You're already acting so much like a veteran adventurer, keeping secrets and hiding your talents and stats close to your chest. But it's too soon, Ambrose. You don't have the resources yet to afford going solo. You need to trust certain people. Your close friends and your mentors at minimum. Otherwise you are stunting your own growth,” she explained.

  While the explanation made sense, Ambrose still hesitated. While she wanted to tell Lyssandrea everything, part of her feared that the information would go directly back to the Second Prince, who would try to use it in order to take advantage of her. She didn't like him and refused to trust him.

  Professor Gulfrig noticed the hesitation and tried to look past Ambrose's bangs to her eyes. “Why are you hesitant? What is making you not want to tell me?”

  “The prince,” Ambrose admitted. She spoke candidly about the man, letting Lyss know her position. “I don't trust that he won't try to exploit everything that I tell you. He’s already tried to use me like a trading piece for his profit,” she said, laying her fears bare. It was up to Lyssandrea to figure out how to deal with them.

  There was a long pause, and a longer moment where the professor simply stood in thought. Then she gave Ambrose a warm smile. “Okay then. How about this,” the woman began, straightening up and rolling her shoulders. “What if I promised only to let him know what equipment and what items you need, as well as the subjects I think can help you? That's the information he really needs for a re-evaluation. So I can leave your forms and skills out of it,” she suggested.

  Ambrose's lips parted and she marveled at the other woman. Shocked that the Professor would be willing to go so far for her. “You would?” She asked surprised, but not about to turn the woman down if the offer was genuine.

  “I'll even swear on it,” Lyssandrea said, her face remaining serious as she observed the Beastiary.

  “If you do that, then… I will feel far more comfortable telling you,” Ambrose said.

  With that confirmed, Lyssandrea pressed the practice sword into earth until it was half embedded before kneeling beside it and raising her hand over her heart in a tight fist. “I Lyssandrea, Scion of Light, do hereby swear, on my power and my light, on my comrades and the Kingdom I cherish, that I will not divulge the secrets of Ambrose Di to Prince Olferig Garren von Diestol, or any who would seek to aid in her harm or exploitation. I swear to uphold and value her trust, and confidence when divulging information about her, and to give the Prince only the barest minimum of what he needs to properly supply and educate her.”

  Ambrose was impressed with the other woman. She had been expecting some cursory ‘sure’ or ‘I can do that’. Not a warrior’s vow. She could feel Lys’s sincerity, her dedication to her word, with every word spoken, and it relieved some of her skepticism about her mentor. This woman would see after her as best she could. Ambrose felt confident in that. “That’s a vow I can accept.”

  Lyss smiled, standing and drawing her sword with casual ease that belied her strength. “Okay. Show me the first and remind me of its special stats. I’d like to test where you are with it, then we’ll go over the equipment you want for it and the equipment I’d recommend for you. Does that seem fair?” the professor asked.

  It did, so Ambrose nodded.

  “Do you plan on fighting as a human?” Lyss asked, seeming genuinely curious.

  Ambrose thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. She had never used her human form for combat and didn’t intend to. She didn’t even need to switch back to it to shift to another form, and there were no limits to the time she could remain in any of her other forms. She simply wore it out of habit, and to keep the people around her comfortable. “No. I don’t think I will.”

  “For a normal Druid, with limits on their shifts or their time in those shifts, I would suggest learning at least to use a quarterstaff. It’s very often the times when they are unshifted that they are most vulnerable. However… I can’t really say that you’ll ever be forced to fight as a human. So all I can suggest is that you carry a weapon with that form just in case,” Lyss said, before shrugging and gesturing to Ambrose to proceed.

  Ambrose nodded and smiled as she shifted from human to pantrada. “I think I’ll take that advice. Maybe a staff for the human?” she half asked as she settled into a comfortable crouch, much as she had in her last fight. The casual urge to begin grooming herself was strong, but she refrained, as she felt it would be rude to start licking her body in front of the other woman.

  Lyss nodded, but she had a frown on her face. “This form… I’ve seen it before. You showed it to me on the ride back here, but it has changed significantly in that little time,” the instructor said, moving around the form and observing Ambrose’s body. “It seems more… developed.”

  “I evolved it in order to fight the other M rank,” Ambrose said, following Lyss with her eyes until the woman moved behind her, at which point her ears simply followed the other person’s movements. She felt powerfully aware of Lyss at all angles around her own body. “Is the appearance much different from my own? I haven’t had a mirror to see what any of my forms look like in comparison to myself,” she said, her ears and tails flicking in mild agitation at that.

  “Oh. Yes. much different,” the Scion said, stepping back around Ambrose before holding out a hand and, with a strange gesture, summoning forth an image. Seconds later, Pantrada sat before Pantrada. Yet somehow Ambrose knew that the creature before her bore no real substance. She could… feel it, or the lack of it, in her surroundings.

  “An illusion?” she asked as she observed herself. The creature before her had mostly black hair with long black ears atop its head that reminded her of the loping wildcats that sometimes chased grazers in the planes near her home. Her frame was that of her normal body, but slimmed down and shortened. She had her same curvature, but it was tighter in areas like her waist and chest, likely for the sake of mobility. Even so, her hair was still long enough for her bangs to properly cover her eyes. Her lips retained their same plump, plush, red shapeliness, and the two distinct marks she’d had all her life, one on her chest at the inward slope of her breast and the other at the corner of her mouth, remained in evidence.

  “Yes, a trick of light magic, and one I learned from one of the instructors at this very school. It’s not great for combat as it simply mirrors what I am projecting. But it bears its own utility,” Lyss explained while Ambrose’s eyes roamed past the curve of her own hips to the gentle sway of two twin tails that shared the primarily black fur of the pantrada, as well as her morphed legs which were more wildcat than human past the mid-thigh. Yet the most stand out part of her appearance in her own opinion, was the moonsilver accents that marked not only her fur, but along her skin in this form. They wove in gentle loops and misty whorls down her limbs, over skin and fur alike. The tips of her ears and tail almost glowed with the color.

  “Beautiful,” Ambrose mumbled, entranced by not herself, but the beauty of the creature in front of her. She wished she could meet another pantrada, to see them move, to learn their ways and how they used their instincts. Her love and fascination blossomed in her chest and filled her with warmth and adoration for her class. That she could be one of these creatures was beyond her wildest dreams, and hopefully one day, she could meet another.

  “I have to agree. The wild power of that form is both beautiful and a little terrifying,” Lyssandrea said, smiling and banishing her illusion for the moment. “What are the special stats?”

  “Superlative Feline Grace, Keen Night Hunter's Awareness, and Lunar Blessings,” Ambrose replied, bringing her attention back to the other woman.

  “So… Alacrity, reason, and instinct?” Lyss asked for clarification. “An even further heightened ability for movement, genuine awareness of your surroundings and senses, and… I’m unsure about the Blessings.”

  Ambrose simply nodded, affirming Lys’s attempt to clarify. Then she rolled onto her back, no longer able to overcome the urge to simply bask in the warmth of the earth and sun.

  Lyss chuckled. “Okay. That tells me that instinct, as a statistic, likely ties into your actual instincts. You should be aware that if your stat is too far ahead of your reason, your urge to follow the instincts of your form is more likely to overwhelm you,” she said with a smirk.

  Ambrose wanted to sit up and let the instructor know that she had heard and would keep that important information, but she couldn’t help but relax for a few more moments. The warm dirt in the training yard felt so good with the sun rolling down on her moonkissed skin.

  “Alright! Up with you!” Lyss said and the force behind her words roused something in Ambrose. The pantrada rolled onto all fours and back into a ready crouch. “We’re going to spar. I’m going to have you call out the names of your skills whenever you use them. Once we have a full bearing on your skills, I will begin tossing you practice weapons to see if something feels right for the form. Once we’re done. We can put in an order with one of the serving staff and he will take it to the Prince so he can work on getting you the things you need ordered over the day, rather than all at once. I have a feeling each of these forms will require something specialized,” Lyssandrea explained as she leveled her training sword at the Pantrada.

  Ambrose nodded and then groomed the back of her pa- hand, ready to play with her instructor.

  —

  The next several hours of morning were spent in what became a familiar loop. Ambrose would shift, tell Lyss about the form she’d taken and its special stats, get a look at herself, fall a little more in love with her class, then spar to further understand the skills of each form. Once that was done, the Scion would start handing Ambrose weapons and Ambrose would test each for the one that felt most useful to the form. After, the two would sit down and talk about tactics, and utility equipment, as well as functionality outside of combat.

  Lyssandrea proved that she was far more than a simple warrior. She was insightful and creative, seeking solutions wherever she could find them and poking at strengths to reveal hidden weaknesses. “The more you know of yourself, the better you can handle your enemy. The more you know of your enemy, the better you can conduct yourself. I don’t know your enemies yet, Ambrose. But I can certainly help you learn more of yourself.”

  The pantrada turned out to be far more complex than a cat folk form that could move faster. The creature could choose the way the universe pulled on it, causing it to fall in odd directions or float, even sticking to walls as though they were the ground. Luminous magic surrounded its digits in high concentrations, allowing it to cut into hard material that normally would not yield to its claws. It could even coat thrown weapons in that same magic for a time, launching them deep into thick stone and through some metals.

  Lyssandrea and Ambrose both agreed that a holster of throwing knives would be amazing for such a creature, and that the form was mobile enough that light clothing would fit it better than armor. That decided, they didn’t spend long on the obvious utilities of such a form, as they seemed plain. The only precautions Lyss gave Ambrose were to be careful of how ‘stealthy’ she thought she was being, as the patterns on her body might draw eyes, especially if they shone brightly in the dark.

  Moving on to the Lambda form Ambrose was exposed again to the pain of a split open arm. With no one having treated the wound, it had stayed with the Lambda and she cursed as she began bleeding onto the field. Lys treated her with a healing potion, which patched the wound up almost immediately, but the two spent time talking about how Ambrose’s shifts worked after the fact. The ability to save a wound for later was tremendous in its utility, but forgetting an injury could cause problems for Ambrose if she wasn’t careful.

  Once they’d fully discussed the precautions Ambrose should take to keep her forms alive and safe, they moved on to testing the form. They found that the special stats were Stubborn Nature (a Vitality stat) and Discerning Mindfulness (a Reason stat). The Lambda made for an excellent defender with a proper shield, as Ambrose had found in her past experiences, and with the addition of a mace, she became a threatening wall against any assault, even giving the instructor cause for caution during their spar. Lys put in a request for sturdy leather and plated armor pieces as well as a good shield for that form and the two discussed the raw survivability of the Lambda for a time before Ambrose moved on to the next form.

  The merfolk form was more difficult for Lys to test, as it was impossible for Ambrose to properly navigate the yard without her orb of water. But the two figured out the special stats, which were Deep Flow (Alacrity) and Lost Knowledge (Comprehension). It also became apparent during sparring, that a spear to fend off physical attackers foolish enough to get too close to the orb was ideal and didn’t distract too much from Ambrose’s magic, making her a multipronged attacker in that form. While utility was obviously limited, Lyss did recommend that Ambrose lead with the merfolk form in any magic confrontation, as it would be excellent for feeling out the abilities of her enemies.

  The Redcappi form caught Lyss off guard with its power and aggression. The violent little form packed enough strength to batter down even her defense at times, and it became obvious that Ambrose struggled with the bloodlust of the form. Its stats, Fiendish Momentum (Alacrity) and Bloody Essence (Instinct), left Ambrose with no extra reason to counter the desires to cause pain and bloodshed, which led to Lyssandrea strongly advising against enhancing the form unless Ambrose focused more on her reason in the future. Without control, the form had no utility and was likely only something to resort to in combat.

  The holstaurus form left Ambrose at a pause, and the two had to stop training at that point. Not because there was anything wrong. They had to stop because the girl broke down into happy tears upon seeing herself in Lyssandrea’s apparition. The vision was tremendous in her mind and on her psyche and left her trembling in place. Before her stood a buxom young cow, curvy and nearly bursting out of the silk wreathing her body. She boasted alluringly soft, milky skin and long, beautiful, forward sloped horns to go with a lashing tail and shimmering hooves. All her life, from the moment she could tell she was different from the woman raising her, this was who she’d wanted to grow into. The tears came, floods of relief to sooth the buried anguish she’d felt in her heart for over a decade of knowing she’d never look like the woman closest to something she could call a mother.

  Finally she could, she could look like the woman who raised her, could carry herself with pride and genuinely feel included when she stepped back into her village. She could learn to truly empathise with Miz Shatterhorn and gossip about cow problems. She could fuss over her horns and be the person she’d wanted to grow up into. If she had ever loved anything in her life, it paled in comparison to this true, pure adoration and gratitude she felt to her class at that moment. And so she wept tears of joy, leaning into Lyssandrea until they petered away and the Scion could call for a lunch break.

  —

  After lunch, which had been a nice, saucy pasta the likes of which Ambrose hadn’t encountered before, the two finished training with the Holstaurus form, finding that the halberd suited her well in it. The blade and range allowed her to supply a wide range of damage types with her superior Ferocity while keeping herself from taking serious wounds.

  It was upon her agreeing to take on the Deviswine form that the rest of class turned far more complicated.

  As always, Ambrose felt the shift, recognized her own change in height and stature, felt her weight and balance shifting as she settled into weighty curves fueled by raw power. A sensual surge of powerful, instinctual lust hit her, only to be countered by a solid, dominating will and her own sense of self. She was, in almost every sense of the world, erotic. She felt flirtatious plumpness in her every curve. Her breaths were steamy with alluring heat. Her soft, silky, crimson hair washed about when she moved in hypnotic cascades of lustrous strands. Her chest bounced and jiggled, swaying provocatively with her slightest movement and for a moment the thought that a deviswine may simply be some form of succubus crossed Ambrose’s mind. But why would a succubus be closest in relation to an orc?

  She had little time to dwell on the matter, as Lys dropped her practice weapon, the loud clatter of it hitting the floor bringing Ambrose’s attention back to the woman. Lyssandrea looked horrified, embarrassed at herself, and entranced all at once. “A deviswine!?” she asked, her hand twitching as though she desperately wanted her real weapon. “One of your forms is a Deviswine!?”

  Ambrose nodded, looking down at the gentle, pink skin of her hands, and the long, dangerous nails on the ends of her fingers. She’d almost call them claws. “Um.. Yes. It was one of the newer forms available, an I-” she began to explain, only to be cut off.

  “Switch back! To anything! Anything else before someone sees you!” Lys commanded.

  Ambrose returned to her holstaurus form, a little surprised at such a powerful reaction. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Lys eyed her with more fascinated wariness than ever before, taking deep breaths and slowly calming down. “That form… You can’t use it in the city,” she said firmly. “Not around me, and not around anyone from the city. Just knowing that you can do that would turn the kingdom against you.”

  Ambrose found herself more confused than ever. Why would a form that seemed like it was only made for one thing get her killed? “Could you explain? I don’t see what the problem is.”

  Lys seemed to come back to herself with a sigh, looking about before heading over to the gate and properly locking it. Once that was done, she blocked it off with an opaque wall of light, sighing, and returning to Ambrose. “Before you return to that form, I want to make this clear. Deviswine are not benevolent creatures. We don’t see them as demi-beasts even. They are classified as high ranking monsters. Their ability to enthrall the mind and take slaves has toppled kingdoms in the past. No King would suffer one to live in his walls, or on his lands, and those that survive in the wild are those too powerful for us to hunt. If you show that form off to anyone but me, you are putting yourself at dire risk. I will make certain that whatever equipment we get that form includes robes and cowls to hide the identity of it. Even then, any more than a minute around others could lead to exposure. So be warned and act cautiously,” She said, her tone deathly serious.

  Ambrose nodded. Wondering exactly what she’d gotten into with the Deviswine form. Even when she was told it was okay to return to that form, she hesitated. Once back in the form Lys showed her her appearance with the illusion, which only confirmed Ambrose’s self judgement that the Deviswine were some form of succubus. Then they attempted to spar… only to find that Lys could not raise her weapon against Ambrose. Whatever power the Deviswine had over others had set in during the short time where they had discussed the Deviswine’s stats of Domina’s Form (Vitality), Peerless Observation (Reason), and Conqueror’s Allure (Instinct).

  So the two agreed that training more with the form wouldn’t work, and Ambrose switched back to being a Holstaurus while both of them went over potential times where the use of the form would be necessary enough that Ambrose may want to risk the ire of the nation, as well as some artifacts that she couldn’t get from the prince, but was likely to find dungeoneering.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Once that conversation was over, Ambrose chose to start another one, rather than risk a similar issue. “So… Kitsune aren’t considered monsters, are they?” she asked, looking at the Scion for a reaction. What she got was a concerned frown.

  “No… the Kitsune were not considered monsters. They were favored among the humanoid races. The most magically and spiritually inclined of us until… well… Until they left,” Lyssadrea said, speaking hesitantly. “What do you know of the Kitsune?”

  “I know they don’t exist any more…” Ambrose said, still hesitant to drop the next piece of information.

  “And how do you know that?” Lys asked, patient and calm, but with a stern undertone that said she was losing patience with word games.

  “My last form. It is related to the kitsune,” Ambrose said, eying her mentor for danger. She found none. Instead, she only saw curiosity in the eyes of the woman.

  “Really? I would love to see it then. What became of our close relatives?” she said, straightening up in anticipation to see the answer.

  The shift was unlike the others, and while her senses sharpened, her very being seemed to sharpen with it. Mana flowed and surged through her very being and bathed her skin in the tingle of magic. Light caressed her like a lover, kissing over her skin and then sinking into her. Wherever it merged with her body, lines of glowing script began to flow like ink, telling some long lost fable, too far in the past to be remembered. Her body felt light and nimble, but no more so than in any other form, yet it pulsed with liveliness that was unlike vitality. It was as though the mana itself beat her heart and the eternal lights around and within her were her very lifeblood. She was light, she was divinity, she was holy.

  Reaching up, she looked at her hands, noting the pearly white claws, and the way that her robe, her cloak, parted over her skin, revealing more and more tales, more past lost to time. Her body was a record to divinity, a temple in its own, a librum to all that should be. This vestment, this holy garment was simply her cover. Her ears flicked as someone gasped. And her tail waved lazily as she looked up to see a woman looking back at her. She was a child of light and dark, a merging of the material. Deep down Ambrose loved this creature and her kin like one would a child with their hand hovering over the flames of a live campfire.

  No... No she didn’t! All at once, the false affection of the form brought Ambrose back to herself. Lys was okay, but Ambrose certainly wouldn’t call her feelings for the woman ‘love’. Ambrose shook her head and then took another, clearer look at Lyssandrea, who was still staring at her, startstruck. “Umm… Professor Gulfrig?”

  It took Lys a moment to bring herself back to reality. The Scion had obviously been beyond impressed with the new form. Ambrose wanted a look of her own, so she could also be impressed. “Would you do the illusion, please?” she requested, when the stammering of her mentor became a bit too prolonged to tolerate any longer.

  “Oh! Yes. Here. Here you are,” she said, holding out her hand again to do those familiar gestures. The results were… interesting.

  The creature in front of Ambrose was a short, light weight woman in a pristine, shimmering cloak that concealed most of her body. Ambrose could see paws that reminded her of some smaller foxes from the woods under the hem of the flowy garment, but very little else, up until the neck, which was slight and slender as she imagined the rest of her body was. Atop that neck sat a head with luminous blue-white hairs and long, bluewhite ears with fluffy tufts of sensitive hairs growing free of them. Yet she didn’t see a face.

  What she saw was a simple mask, shaped to her face and brow-line, but featureless save for the eyes, lacking lips, a nose or brows. Yet the eyes were all that needed to be there. They were long, elegant, slanted and glowed with a simmering blue that lit the area with splendor. Even past her long bangs the eyes of the mask shone through clearly.

  “What… what manner of creature is this?” Lys mumbled, half to herself, half in genuine wonderment.

  “I am Anfaunum,” Ambrose said, something about part of her being refusing to let her lack surety in her word. Everything she spoke was as it was and would be.

  “Anfaunum? I've… I've never heard of them,” Lys said, still observing.

  Ambrose had nothing to add, so she went back to trying to find details for herself. Sweeping her cloak to the side, she revealed her slender figure beneath much as with her hands and arms, her skin was pale beyond all natural hue, and light ran down in patterns across her, the glowing script of timeless records continuing down until her thighs turned to fur. Her tail shone as luminously as the markings on her body, in the same blue-white as the rest of her fur.

  Her thighs were plump enough to bear her weight but not moreso. Her hips were slim, her waist slimmer. Her chest was waifish and all of her was painted on the glowing marki- in scripture. All of her body from the back of her nape to the bottom of her thighs were adorned in a scripture.

  Ambrose blinked again and then closed her cloak, focusing her mind on maintaining her own methods of thinking while she settled into her new body.

  Noticing that Lyssandrea had gone quiet again, Ambrose chose to move things along. There were parts of this form that genuinely unsettled Ambrose. She wanted some private time to confront those thoughts. “The special stats are Eternal Learning (Comprehension), Divine Principles (Reason), and Essence of Glow (Instinct),” she said, pulling Lys back to herself again.

  “Huh. All three mystic statistics…,” the professor thought aloud, “Well, that screams a caster to me. I’ll try not to press you too much during the sparring, so try to feel out any spells or open ended skills that could help you fend off an attacker like me.”

  Ambrose nodded, there was very little to do differently from before. She would try to treat this as she had the sparring session with the merfolk. First, she would try to hit Lyssandrea with a ranged attack if she could manage it. Then she would try to figure out a way to make barriers to make approaching her more difficult. After that, she would start experimenting with any other abilities the Anfaunum might have.

  She stepped over to the familiar starting spot on the training field, settling herself into a wide stance that felt comfortable. The Scion resumed her own normal spot about fifteen paces away from the Anfaunum. Lys started without ceremony, darting forth with superlative speed to try and close the gap.

  Ambrose raised a hand and pulled on her instinct. What she found surprised her. She didn’t want to try and blast Lyssandrea away. She wanted her to come close. Following that instinct, Ambrose kept her hand beneath her cloak visualizing a blade. When she felt a pommel in her grasp, she didn’t question it. She simply gripped what she could only imagine was a weapon, and tensed her legs.

  Lyssandrea bore down on her with a mighty, overhead chop and as she began to drive down that power, Ambrose pressed to the side. Through an effect called Shimmerstep she moved the foot it would take to clear the range of the attack and then leapt into the air while her body moved into a practiced downward slash.

  When her hand passed the veil of her cloak, a glowing blade of light followed it, coming down toward the head of her mentor. Ambrose paused in mid-air, dismissing the weapon even as Lys summoned her own blade, forged from beams of light to block. No contact was made, and Ambrose fell to the ground, landing lightly on her feet, her cloak settling around her body.

  “Okay, Light constructs…” Lyssandrea said, looking at Ambrose in genuine surprise. “What ability was that?”

  “Glow. And shimmerstep to evade your attack,” Ambrose, or maybe just the Anfaunum form itself, replied, her voice calm and sure even though Ambrose felt like she had no idea what she was doing and talking about.

  “Is there a limit to that shimmerstep?” the Scion asked.

  “Three until I need to rely on my own movement for a short time,” the Anfaunum said confidently.

  “Any other effects?” the professor asked, being thorough. As little as Ambrose knew about the Anfaunum as a people, she was internally ready to shrug, and tell the woman she didn’t know. And yet she couldn’t do that. Instead, her mouth moved.

  “It normally calls out the essence of glow to strike at my foes, but I refused to banish you from this world,” the Anfaunum said, explaining with a mouth that seemed as foreign to Ambrose as the northern slopes of Akotahs, several thousand miles away and out of her world.

  “The essence of glow?” Lyssandrea asked, her eyes cautiously roaming over Ambrose as she tried to understand what was happening.

  “The eternal light of divinity,” Rose replied simply, as though she or Lys would know what she was talking about.

  “Okay. I'm sensing that… and you can tell me if I'm wrong, you are being compelled to tell me the truth?” She inquired, lowering her weapons.

  “I cannot lie in this form. No falsehoods will persist,” The Anfaunum replied.

  “Then why simply not answer?”

  “It was agreed that I would reveal my skills to you in exchange for your aid and your vow. You are giving me your aid and I have received your vow,” the Anfaunum shrugged.

  “Okay… so then… how are you telling me the answer to things you don't… or shouldn't know?” She asked, getting around to the real question both she and Ambrose had.

  “The body knows. If the body understands how to do it, on the instinctual level, so do I,” she answered calmly.

  “Then… do we need to spar for you to tell me your skills?” Lys asked, seeming wary of the form, as it had nearly caught her off guard with a lethal attack.

  Ambrose shook her head.

  “Then we're going to sit down and discuss your skills. If you can make light constructs, then you have access to any weapon you might need. It's more important to get you to understand the full scope of your abilities, rather than fling them around,” Lyssandrea decided.

  Ambrose simply nodded, gesturing toward the bench before following her mentor.

  —

  The discussion with and around the Anfaunum left Ambrose a little numb and confused, once she’d returned to the holstaurus form. As powerful as the Anfaunum was, it didn’t even feel like she was herself while in it. She decided to save it as a last resort form as well, rather than frequently using it. Perhaps when her own stats were higher, she’d understand it better. Until that time, exercising caution was Ambrose’s best way to protect herself and others.

  Seeing as her two most recent forms had been unpleasant experiences, to say the least, Ambrose was cautious about taking on the chimera form she had put together. She almost didn’t want to in case some unknown instinct took her. But the fear left her quickly, chased away by her curiosity. The holstaurus form was who she had always wanted to be, and the Lambda were a gentle and lovely people. Any instinct she got from them would be the kind she wanted to have as far as she was concerned.

  “This last form is a combination of the Holstaurus and Lambda,” Ambrose warned her professor. “It shouldn’t be super controversial, right?”

  Lys smirked and shook her head, standing from the bench they had been resting on to talk, and gesturing for Ambrose to do the same. “No. Something like that hasn’t been seen before, so there’s little reason to fear it, other than the usual caution around demi-humans,” she said. Ambrose barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes at that. The treatment the people of her village received because of what she saw as minor physical differences always agitated her. But she put it aside. She was here to learn and gain strength so that she could support the people she cared about. She’d figure out how to deal with the bigotry later.

  With a mild action of will, Ambrose shifted. The change was instantaneous and certainly noticeable. The world felt a little sharper, to be certain, but she felt different. More dense, more powerful, more aware of both herself and the woman across from her. Her height had changed a little. As a holstaurus, she was several inches above her own human height. As a Hollam, she was about her normal height, which was pleasant if only for the sake of familiarity. She felt that she still had hooves and mighty legs, and her tail swished behind her, ears gently flopping with the movement of her head, all of which gave her similar comfort to being a holstaurus. It was a nice medium between what she was used to and what she wanted, and so she felt comfortable.

  Oddly, with how dense she was, Ambrose didn’t generally feel as though she was heavier or slower. Taking a moment to stretch, she looked over at Lys, who seemed genuinely impressed. “Something new?”

  Lyssandrea nodded, holding out a hand to summon forth the illusion. "Quite a bit.”

  Ambrose watched as before her, another woman appeared. She was short, and… robust in ways that made Ambrose look down at herself. It soon became apparent to Ambrose that in order to wash herself below the chest, she’d likely need to have a mirror ordered if she wanted to maintain this form. While Ambrose had wanted this form for the strategic benefits of bountiful holstaurus milk and the possible surplus that a Lambda’s vitality would add, she hadn’t quite predicted the… bustiness of the end result.

  Mizz Shatterhorn was a full grown cow, who had given birth a time or two during her marriage to the mister. She said that pregnancy had made her breasts grow several sizes and put her out of the running for bra’s from any standard seamstress service. Ambrose had not been pregnant, and frankly wasn’t planning on it. She also was freshly 18 and had a few years of growing ahead of herself. Yet she was fairly certain that her Hollam form had a bigger chest than Mizz Shatterhorn. By at least a few cups. The size was almost comical on her short, curvy body. They were so massive it distracted from the rest of the body attached to them.

  “I… see…” she said, not knowing what else could possibly be said. Both she and Lyssandrea were looking, taking what felt like a genuinely necessary moment to process the magnitude of change.

  It was Lyssandrea who recovered first, shaking her head and sighing. “Do you feel uncomfortable?” she asked, genuinely seeming concerned.

  Ambrose shook her head, finally looking away from her chest to the rest of her body as she replied. “No. I feel fine. Dense and powerful. I feel… mighty. I was just caught a little off guard.” Her eyes roamed her body, first up to her head where she had two sets of horns, her Lambda points curling around her holstaurus mantle to leave her with four, deadly forward pointing weapons. Her hair remained its usual, silvery white, her bangs hanging down to cover her eyes. Her lips hadn’t changed much either, and her normal mark was still there. Yet her holstaurus ears were longer and fluffier, their fur shifting with the light breeze moving through the yard.

  Her shoulders were rounded and slightly broader, likely to compensate for additional weight and power. Her midsection was still tight, though she was distinctly built a little wider in her lower ribs, which only emphasized the cinch and flare of her waist and hips. The end effect was a waspish figure that tightened to a fit, toned middle and then flared into a wide, sensual curvature that left her thighs to dive into fluffy white and black fur. At those thighs, where a lambda would have curled wool, she had fluffy, thick fur that made it look as though she was wearing some rather unique boots down to her hooves.

  Overall, the form gave off an air of steady confidence and competence that left Ambrose feeling relaxed in her body. She was pleased with her results and her appearance, and without Lys having to ask, she checked her stats, intending to give her the adjustments, only to balk at the changes.

  Class : Mystic Bestiary

  Rank : M

  Race (current) : Hollam (Chimera)

  Level : 10

  Herd’s Wrath : 37

  Ironclad Tenacity : 54

  Adaptive Agility : 32

  Adaptive Comprehension : 24

  Willful Mindfulness : 37

  Adaptive Potency : 42

  Class Abilities: Bestiary of Forms, Investment of Essence

  Bestiary of Forms:

  Bestiary may freely shift between a number of forms dictated by their level.

  Forms Chosen [7/7]

  Pantrada - Evolved - Investment 5/5 - No items

  Lambda - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items

  Merfolk - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items

  Redcappi - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items

  Holstaurus - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items

  Deviswine - Unevolved - Investment 0/10 - No items

  Anfaunum - Unevolved - Investment 0/??? - No items

  Investment of Essence:

  Invest points into a form to enhance that form’s unique statistic by 10% Potency per point spent.

  5 investments of one form will result in an evolution of that form.

  5/10 spent.

  Minor Chimerism:

  Beastiary may begin mixing existing forms into Chimera forms. Maximum number of forms that may be put together is dependent on level. Forms may be freely adjusted and shifted to. Chimera forms will maintain logical racial abilities from their parent forms. 2 chimera forms may be saved and shifted to naturally.

  Number of forms per chimera: 2

  Number of saved chimera forms: [1/2]

  Hollam - Unevolved - Chimeric investment 0/0 - No items

  Racial Abilities:

  Pointed Charge

  Herdmother’s Produce

  Awakened Gravity

  Herdmother’s Eye

  Herdmother’s Call

  Herdmother’s Form

  Herdmother’s Might

  Herdmother’s Aura

  Step of the herd.

  Herd’s Ire.

  Maze wanderer’s memory

  Call of Skyfall

  Skills:

  Crush

  Float

  “There are… a lot of less visible changes too,” Ambrose said, eying the sheet in disbelief. “Each of my stats in this form is higher, even if it’s only by a little. And I think my vitality doubled.”

  “Double?” Lyssandrea asked, incredulous. She hadn’t heard of such bonuses for abilities that were acquired at such a low level. Normally only advancement skills offered 100% or more buffs, and that was for a temporary time period, or for one specific attack.

  “Yes, double,” Ambrose confirmed, still in awe of herself. This form was possibly resilient enough to take on Margaux. Not that Ambrose would willingly seek out that fight. It was simply something that she acknowledged with some amazement.

  “Okay. Um.. Spar?” Lys asked. Seeming genuinely interested in trying to combat the form. Each of Ambrose’s shifts had presented a new and unique challenge to the Scion, and seeing her student was powerful enough to genuinely challenge people over twice her level, filled Lys with pride and a little worry. The M Rank would grow fast and likely be out of the league of even the Royal guards in under a year at the amazing pace she was cutting on her way to gaining power.

  “Yes. I think sparring would be good. Can I get a shield again to start? Maybe a big one? I feel like I can handle a lot more than just the heater,” Ambrose said, looking down at her hands. Her nails were not clawed like they had been in many of her other forms. Instead they were rounded and seemed gentle in comparison. Gripping would be easy.

  The Scion nodded, moving over and finding a nice tower shield before bringing it back to Ambrose, so she had a defense while they were practicing. Ambrose thanked her and took the shield, holding what was the equivalent of a reinforced stable door up to guard. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  The two resumed their normal starting spots for sparring, and once again, Lyssandrea was the first to move. Rather than waiting on her for some sort of counter, Ambrose matched her charge, shield held strong in front of her. Lys brought down her weapon to try and halt the charge. In all of their other encounters, she had been superior to Ambrose in strength by a lot. Now she was thrown back, the force and mass behind the charge sending her tumbling far away before she could roll to her feet and recover.

  “That was Pointed Charge,” Ambrose said, marveling at the power she’d felt behind the blow. She was fairly certain that without her shield, she would have tried to gore Lys with her horns, but she didn’t think about it. Lys was fine, and so was she.

  “Okay. So… An empowered ability to advance,” Lys nodded, eying the shield as far more than a wall now. If Ambrose could move with that much force while holding it, she was a battering ram of destruction. “How heavy does that feel on your arm?” she asked.

  “Light. It’s a little more comfortable than the metal one was on the Lambda,” Ambrose replied, only for Lyssandrea to nod and begin circling her again. The two of them continued to spar for some time after that, but none of the other skills seemed to trigger from the fray. Not until, with a leap, Lys went high for an overhead slash. Once again, instinct called to Ambrose and she felt something in her activate.

  With a powerful lowe, she exerted intense pressure on the area around her, and Lyssandrea slammed to the ground, landing on her stomach with a thud. The sudden shift of position flattened Lyssandrea and stole her breath, putting her in a fully compromised position.

  Ambrose had no interest in taking advantage of Lyssandrea's position, though she mentally noted that a pointed charge right after the “Skyfall” ability she'd just used would be devastating in combination. Trampling an enemy was as good a tactic as any, especially with a dense, heavy body.

  “I take it an ability triggered?” Lys asked, rolling onto her back and panting as she tried to catch her breath, looking up at Ambrose. The two couldn't make eye contact for obvious reasons due to her position on the ground, but Ambrose got a feeling that she was being looked at.

  “Yes. Skyfall,” she answered.

  “Okay. The name kind of speaks for itself. It's a powerful anti-aerial ability to bring enemies back to the ground,” she said, finally sitting up and dusting herself off. “It won't work well against targets who are ready for it. So hopefully you can keep using it as a once per encounter option, so the enemy won't know about it.”

  Ambrose nodded, then realized that there was a soft, bouncy barrier between her Professor and the gesture and promptly said, “Yeah, I’ll try to do that.” Letting Lys up, the two tried for a few more minutes to trigger any of her other abilities, before beginning to add weapons into the mix.

  They traded blows, Ambrose keeping her towering shield between herself and Lyssandrea while trying to fend her off with different clubs, great clubs and axes. Yet nothing really felt at home, until, panting from light exertion from dealing with Ambrose, Lyss passed her a sword that had almost four feet of blade to it. The raw heft of the weapon in her hand felt good from the moment she pulled the weapon from the ground and gripped the long pommel.

  “That’s an oversized blade. We basically reserve them for field battles and idiots who think their strength stat can compensate for a lack of speed in sword combat,” Lyss said, with a smile. “It’s honestly here as a joke to watch new trainees swing it around for two minutes and then start panting and wheezing before falling over. Buuut… It might actually be the only thing to properly leverage your strength without just… giving you a Jousting lance.”

  “I like it,” Ambrose said, smiling and rolling the sword with her wrist. The gesture was quick and sharp and caused Ambrose no stress. Yet it made Lyssandrea look warily at her student. With a moment and a harsh gesture she summoned a blazing bright light shield of her own.

  “Okay, Ambrose. Let's see how you handle yourself against a shielded opponent. First to land a serious blow wins!” she called before advancing.

  The spar was long, and Ambrose found that she felt excellent with the pair of heavy weapons, one on each arm. Even against Lyssandrea, she felt capable with them, and while Lys won their bout hands down, outplaying Ambrose in skill and in speed, Ambrose felt like she had truly made her professor work for the victory. That, to Ambrose, was a victory in itself.