www.algonet.se/~thyhe/partAN1.htm

With this enchantment, she read, may one change one's form, assuming the face of another. As always, the peculiar wording suggested to Celania that the spellbook had not originally been written in the Vaderish tongue used in the Stornlands.

The first is to fix the change in one's mind, she read on. Of utmost importance, do not forget oneself. That was a bit vague, but Celania thought it meant she had to perfectly conjure up the change she wanted in her mind before casting the spell. She continued to read, committing the words of the spell to memory. Then she stepped over to the large mirror resting in the corner of the room.

What should she become? She looked at herself in the mirror with a slight frown. Smoothing her hands over her nearly translucent nightgown, she pursed her lips in thought. She looked down at her tiny feet, her rounded hips and legs, her large bosom and her heart-shaped face and smiled. She'd always wanted to be beautiful�

Staring into the mirror, she slowly began to overlay her image in her mind with that of the woman she'd always wished to be. She imagined herself a full span taller and her feet and limbs proportionally larger. Her body grew slimmer, her hips and legs seeming to stretch out in her mind, her waist becoming tiny and delicate. Her bust also shrank, her breasts becoming smaller and pert. Her rounded face lost its fleshiness, her cheekbones rising to lend it a delicate angularity. Her brown eyes turned ice blue and her straight, dark hair, mussed from sleep, became a shimmering mass of flaxen waves. Her olive skin, somewhat pale from spending time indoors, lightened further still, becoming smooth and milky. A touch of colour at her cheeks and full scarlet lips completed the image.

With a smile on her face, Celania closed her eyes, fixing the picture in her mind. For a moment she breathed deeply, then opened her mouth and spoke. "Tuath t'ratha larath nillen," she whispered. A ripple of pain shivered through her body, bringing a gasp to her lips. For a moment she leaned forward, her hands on her thighs, her body shaking. Sucking in a deep breath, she slowly straightened and opened her eyes.

For a moment Celania stared into the mirror, then her blue eyes widened. She brought her hands up to her cheeks. Long, delicate fingers with immaculate nails pressed against milky skin with just a hint of colour. She ran her hands down over her pert bust, her flat stomach and her slim hips, her eyes drinking in the changes in her body beneath her nightgown. Looking down, her red lips curled into a smile as she saw a long expanse of leg peeking out from under the hem of a gown that was now too short for her. She wriggled her toes and her small feet, her smile widening. Throwing her hands in the air, she pirouetted, laughing delightedly. She gulped, then giggled as the sound of her laughter reached her ears. Even her voice had changed! Losing much of its throaty purr, it had become sweet and melodic. "Oh my," she whispered and giggled again. If only Thieryn could see her now.

Celania frowned for a moment. Thieryn? Where had that come from? Kaeloran, she meant. Yes, that was it. Her smile returned as she dismissed the matter.

Dancing into the centre of the room, Celania failed to notice the first twinge in her muscles. She did notice that she was feeling surprisingly tired, but she put that down to lack of sleep. When her body spasmed again, she reached out a hand to steady herself on Azeryl's desk - but she never made it.

A low cry escaped her lips, then rose to a full, wailing scream as the first waves of agony rolled over her. She collapsed to the floor bonelessly, her body shaking uncontrollably as her eyes filled with tears. She must have sustained the spell too long. She'd done that before, but she'd never felt it hurt this badly.

Drawing herself up, Celania clenched her jaw, fighting against the pain that racked her body. With an effort, she gasped out the words to end the spell - and nothing happened!

Celania moaned as fresh agony gripped her frail body and tried again, the words harsh and broken in her ears. Still nothing. Before she could begin to make heads or tails of what had gone wrong, all awareness slipped away. The last thing she heard as she swooned into unconsciousness was the door to the chamber crashing open.

****

Celania blinked once. "Awake? Good," soothed a voice. For a moment she couldn't place it, but eventually it came to her. Azeryl. She forced her eyes open and looked up blearily.

Azeryl sat beside her, one hand placed gently on her forehead. He smiled, but the expression was devoid of feeling. "Foolish child," he said, his tone mild, but his eyes blazing with anger. "Do you realise what you did? You almost killed yourself."

"I�I don't understand�what happened," muttered Celania, her voice hoarse. She remembered casting the spell of change, then pain obliterated almost everything else.

"You could not cancel the spell," Azeryl informed her. "What was the first thing the grimoire told you to do?"

"To�to fix the desired changes in my mind."

"And after that?"

Celania frowned in thought, an effort that brought nearly blinding pain to her head. "Not to forget oneself?" she finally replied.

Azeryl erupted from his chair. "Not to forget one's self, you little fool!" he bellowed. He began to pace around the room in an effort to rein in his anger. "The spell of change is not an illusion, Celania," he finally said. "You aren't just summoning a phantasm to cloak your form and when you end the spell your own body is not waiting beneath the enchantment. You change your form to the one you choose. To sustain the change requires energy. If you maintain the spell too long, it will cannibalise your body, eventually killing you. You know that."

Celania nodded meekly. "But why-"

"Why couldn't you end the spell?" Azeryl broke in. At Celania's nod he continued, his voice harsh. "Because, foolish girl, you did not pay attention! When the grimoire told you not to forget yourself it meant just that. You must fix your true form in your mind as well as your changed form, otherwise you cannot return to it! The spell will not end - rather, it will continue to drain power - and then life - from your body�until you die."

Celania stared at Azeryl for a long while, her eyes hurt. "Did you break the spell?" she whispered finally.

"No. I could not. Without absolute knowledge of your true form, it is as beyond me as it is beyond you."

"Then�I'm dying?" Celania's voice was tiny, scared.

Azeryl glared at her for a moment before finally taking pity on her. "No, Celania. You won't die." He stood and walked across the room. Turning her head to follow him, Celania saw that she was in her own chamber, lying in her own bed. Azeryl picked up a small mirror from her dresser and returned to her bedside. "Look," he said, offering her the mirror.

Celania glanced up at him before taking the mirror. Fearfully, she raised it before her and found herself staring into the same, perfect visage she had assumed earlier. She lifted slim, white fingers to her face, pressing gently against the dark circles of exhaustion that had formed under her glacial eyes. "I don't understand," she murmured plaintively.

"It's simple, child," Azeryl told her. "When I could not return you to your true form, I changed it. I�twisted the magic. It was the only way to save your life. For all intents and purposes, this is now your true form. When I changed your body, the spell was no longer required for you to exist in this current form and it ceased of its own volition, ending the drain on your life-force." He reached out and pushed the mirror closer to her face. "Get used to it," he said. "You will never see your old face again."

Trembling, Celania's fingers reached out to drift across the mirror. Her expression was one of stunned astonishment, but it slowly melted into a look of pure joy. "I'm beautiful," she whispered huskily. "Forever and ever." Lifting her head she met Azeryl's gaze, her smile radiant. "Thank you, Azeryl," she said, squeezing his hand. "Thank you for my life and this gift."

Azeryl smiled, but responded sombrely, "Don't thank me yet, Celania. Thank me once you're sure you like this change. After all, there will be many things you will have to get used to, many changes still to make."

"For one thing," broke in another voice, "we'll have to get you a whole new wardrobe." A smile on his face, Kaeloran Naradis stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Something tells me your clothes aren't likely to fit you anymore."

Celania turned towards Kaeloran, who stepped forward and took her outstretched hand. Raising it to his lips, he murmured, "It is good to see you well again, dear Celania. I was so afraid when Azeryl found you."

Celania beamed at his words, but her smile faltered as a thought occurred to her. "Are you sure, Kaeloran? Azeryl's right - I've changed so much. Can you still love me?"

Kaeloran dropped to one knee by Celania's side and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek as he pulled her close. "My darling, I speak only the truth when I say I've never loved you more than I do now."