WM [60] First of a Kind

WM [60] First of a Kind

Bjorn and Tanisha sat across from each other on the floor within their tent. They had their eyes closed as they focused intensely not on the familiar bond but instead on the tether that connected their souls. Unlike the bond the tether was not connected to their magic core, it was deeper and far more intimate than the source of magic. The tether had grown stronger during the fight in the medical ward. Both of them had utilized the abilities granted to them by communing which served to make the tether stronger.

They could feel the power of their souls as they resonated. Bjorn had to give himself over to the feeling, accept the tether and all that came with it. Tanisha’s soft voice filled the space between them, speaking the words of power, summoning her Hard Air Construct in the shape of large, ethereal hands. She breathed into the construct the darker aspects of her maya.

The hands hovered for a moment before gently touching his side, resting on his thick scales. The warmth from Tanisha’s magic seeped into him, and Bjorn tried to focus, to accept the power they were attempting to share. But as much as he wanted to, as much as he knew they needed this strength, something inside him resisted.

It was the memories. The King of Serpents’ words, Nuriel’s sadistic games and the endless torture. It all came crashing back, vivid and overwhelming. Bjorn recoiled internally, pulling back from the tether just as it had begun to settle within him. A deep sense of shame caused the soul tether to waver. Tanisha’s eyes flickered open, no doubt surprised in the sudden rejection of the communing after it seemed like they were so close to completing the necessary step for him to gain the power.

He could not help it, he was the reason Tanisha became what she is, the reason her mind and body were altered. What if strengthening the tether would have some other consequence? Evolve her further, make her even more prone to violence, strip from her agency and identity. He couldn’t do that to her.

“Big Man, are you, okay?” Tanisha questioned as she scooted closer to him. “What’s wrong, did it hurt?”

Bjorn found he could keep her gaze and instead found anything but her as the subject of his attention. He tapped the ground with his claws a few times before he started to write: “There are subjects we need to talk of first. I am afraid I will hurt you.”

He watched as Tanisha read the message, her brow furrowing in confusion. Tanisha read the message multiple times before responding.

“You wouldn’t hurt me. I trust you, why are you afraid?” she said.

Her trust, her certainty in him, made the guilt hit even harder. He lowered his heads this time as he wrote. “I have hurt you. I made you a cernunnos. I am sorry.”

Tanisha’s eyes widened, her breathing quickened. The confusion and hurt echoed in their bond, and Bjorn could feel her grappling with her next words.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling. “How... why? You changed me? Do you know how to fix my mind, can you change me back?”

Bjorn’s hearts ached as he watched her reaction. He lowered himself further as he scratched the next message: “I don’t know. You changed because of our bond. I did not know I changed you until yesterday.”

“You didn’t know?” Tanisha questioned, her voice raising a little. “How did you find out then? I want to know, Bjorn.”

Bjorn hesitated before answering, scratching out the next words with deliberate care. “My father told me.”

Tanisha blinked, surprise flashing across her face. “You can talk to your Father, he’s in the Lower Planes?”

“No, talk in dreams for the first time.”

“Enter,” Tanisha said.

The tent’s flap was pushed aside, and in walked Thorfinn, his presence commanding yet understated in the familiar black and gold attire of the Royal Hands. Bjorn immediately noticed something was off. The usual veil that masked a Hand’s face was conspicuously absent. He was a nighthand wendigo with dark gray skin. His eyes were shining orbs of light. Bjorn could taste the magic in the air—the man's aura was a tightly wound coil of power, expertly contained but deliberately present enough for both him and Tanisha to sense. There was no illusion magic here. This was the true Thorfinn, in his natural form.

“Hand Thorfinn? Your veil,” Tanisha said with concern.

Bjorn realized that the veil had some significance to the Hands. All of the ones he had seen, be they Noble or Royal Hands, kept their identity hidden.Well at least their face. Thorfinn had the magical ability to change his form with illusion magic, but there was no presence of it this time. Bjorn, though lacking the cultural depth of wendigo, could sense that this was an unprecedented breach of tradition. But why?

“The First Princess said you would understand what this means.” He paused, studying Tanisha’s reaction. “It would appear she was right. I know you prefer your new name, so we will stick with Tanisha. The First Princess would like to speak with you, Fourteenth Princess Tanisha Scalebound.”

“I refuse,” Tanisha said, her voice sharp.

“Very well, please come thi—wait, what?” Thorfinn blinked, his usually composed demeanor faltering as he tried to process her response. “You refuse?”

Tanisha crossed her arms, standing firm. “Yes, I refuse. I’m leaving Yuhia. I’m not becoming royalty just to be a pawn in the royal succession. I am guessing you know what I am now, that I am not a demon and that this isn’t a disguise, right? Well, Yuhia had its chance to keep me. You can thank the Salstars for squandering that. My real father is out in the Chaos Lands and I am going to find him.”

“Tanisha, this isn’t how this was supposed to go,” Thorfinn said.

“Welcome to my life,” Tanisha said dryly, the sarcasm evident. “And what is this Fourteenth Princess nonsense? The First Princess can’t just give someone the title Princess.”

Thorfinn sighed, rubbing his temples in thought. “That’s... technically correct, for now. It’s an honorary title. But per our constitution, should a Greater Wendigo appear, they would be given the right to fight for succession or even the throne. Technically, you are a princess—whether it’s officially recognized yet or not.”

“I refuse,” Tanisha repeated firmly.

“First Princess Sigrun will not be pleased,” Thorfinn said.

Tanisha rolled her eyes, her tone taking on a wry edge. “Actually, I think you will be mistaken. If I went along with this she would have been more upset. It would mean I don’t have a spine and what use is a Greater Wendigo if she is so weak-willed?”

Thorfinn studied her, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly as he considered her words. “You know,” he sighed. “Despite becoming a Hand I still am not used to dealing with politics.”

“It can be exhausting. Trust me,” Tanisha said.

“Very well, wait here,” Thorfinn said as he snapped his finger and his veil appeared covering his face. “I will be right back.”