Page 36 of Realms of Swords and Storms (Empire of Vengeance #3)

"How feel?" I asked, stepping closer to examine his form. His scales were healthy, his proportions good. The scars from his human life had indeed transferred, creating fascinating patterns of lighter blue across his hide.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a rumbling growl emerged. Confusion flashed in his eyes.

"Voice different now," I explained. "Throat, tongue changed. Must learn speak again in this form."

Frustration replaced confusion, and he made another attempt, this one resulting in a series of chirps and growls that approximated speech but formed no words.

"Mind speak easier at first," I suggested. Like this, I added mentally, reaching out to touch his consciousness with my own.

His eyes widened further at the contact. Sirrax? His mental voice was stronger than I had expected for a first transformation, clear and distinct. This is... incredible. I can feel everything so intensely. The air currents, the smells, even the vibrations in the ground.

Talfen senses stronger than human, I confirmed. You are experiencing your birthright.

He turned his massive head toward Livia, who stood watching with awe and delight on her face. Can she hear us?

Not yet, I explained. Maybe with contact. Not bonded yet.

Tarshi lowered his head toward Livia, careful to move slowly, aware of his new size and strength.

She approached without fear, reaching up to place her hand on his scaled muzzle.

The tenderness in the gesture made my chest tighten with an emotion that had no simple name in human speech.

In the Talfen tongue, it would be zrith'al —the joy of witnessing beloved ones connect.

"You're beautiful," Livia said softly, stroking the scales along his jaw. "Absolutely magnificent."

Pride and pleasure radiated from Tarshi at her words, his tail swishing slightly behind him in an unconscious display of emotion.

I remembered my own first transformation in front of Livia, how her acceptance had healed something long broken within me.

She had that gift—the ability to see beauty where others saw only strangeness or threat.

Now fly, I suggested, already beginning my own transformation. Unlike Tarshi, I had centuries of practice, and my shift from human to Talfen form took mere moments, smooth and painless.

In my true form, I stretched my wings, feeling the familiar weight of them, the power in my muscles as I prepared for flight. Beside me, Tarshi watched with keen attention, instinctively mirroring my movements as I demonstrated how to extend his wings fully.

Follow, I instructed, gathering myself and launching upward with a powerful thrust of my legs and sweep of my wings.

The air caught beneath me, lifting me skyward in a rush of joy that never diminished, no matter how many times I experienced it.

Flight was the purest expression of Talfen nature, the ultimate freedom.

Even after centuries of living, the first moments of each flight still thrilled me like nothing else.

Below, Tarshi hesitated briefly, then gathered himself as I had done.

His first attempt was awkward—too much force in his legs, insufficient coordination with his wings—resulting in a stumbling leap that barely cleared the treetops.

But he recovered quickly, instinct guiding him as he found the rhythm of wingbeats that would carry him higher.

Good! I encouraged as he rose to join me. Natural comes. Blood remembers.

Together we climbed higher, spiralling above the olive grove as the last light faded from the sky and stars began to appear.

Tarshi's movements grew more confident with each wingbeat, his body remembering what his mind had never known.

The joy of flight was in his blood, as it was in mine, an inheritance older than the Empire, older than human civilization itself.

This is incredible, he projected, his mental voice vibrant with wonder. I've never felt so... free.

Freedom birthright of Talfen, I agreed. Why Empire fears us. Why they collar, control.

Below us, I could see Livia watching our flight, her face upturned, hair catching the starlight.

Even from this height, my Talfen vision could discern the smile on her lips, the pride in her stance.

She understood what this moment meant—not just for Tarshi, but for all of us.

Another Talfen reclaiming their heritage was a blow against the Empire, a step toward liberation.

Follow, I directed, banking toward the west where the mountains rose, dark silhouettes against the night sky. Show hunting grounds.

We flew together over forests and fields, Tarshi quickly adapting to the currents and eddies of the night air.

I demonstrated hunting techniques—how to spot prey from above, how to dive with wings partially folded, how to use tail and wings to make sharp turns.

He learned rapidly, his warrior's instincts translating well to his new form.

After a successful dive that resulted in the capture of a large deer, I showed him how to eat in Talfen form—the different arrangement of teeth, the stronger stomach acid that could digest bone and all.

He was hesitant at first, his human sensibilities revolting at the raw meat, but instinct soon took over.

The Talfen need for sustenance after transformation was powerful, and his body knew what it required.

As we fed, I considered his progress. For a first transformation, it was remarkable.

His form was strong, his control improving with each passing moment.

The Talfen blood in him must be from a powerful lineage, perhaps one of the ancient ruling clans that had been specially targeted when the Empire began its campaign of suppression.

You learn fast, I observed as we finished our meal. Strong blood in you.

Pride radiated from him at the compliment. It feels natural, somehow. As if my body always knew how to do this, even if my mind didn't.

Truth, I agreed. Body remembers what mind forgets. Talfen wisdom passed in blood, not just words.

We took to the air again, flying higher this time, above the scattered clouds that drifted across the night sky.

The moons—both the greater and lesser—illuminated the landscape below, turning the world to silver and shadow.

In this light, with the freedom of the sky around us, it was possible to imagine a time before the Empire, when Talfen flew freely and humans had not yet dreamed of collars and control.

Will there be others? Tarshi asked as we soared together. Other Talfen who could learn to shift?

Many with blood, I confirmed. Few with knowledge. Empire kills those who teach truth.

Then we need to spread the knowledge, he replied, determination colouring his thoughts. If more Talfen knew what they truly were, what they could become...

Dangerous, I cautioned. Empire watches. Guards secret fiercely. Must be careful who trust.

But after the festival, he pressed. If we succeed in our demonstration, if we can begin to weaken the Empire's control...

I did not respond immediately. Little Warrior had told me of the resistance, of their plans for the upcoming festival.

The plans the resistance had made were bold but flawed.

They did not understand the Empire's capacity for cruelty, for sacrifice.

I had lived through centuries of imperial rule, had seen rebellions crushed, had witnessed the lengths to which the Emperor would go to maintain control.

But this was not the time for such concerns. Tonight was for celebration, for the rebirth of a Talfen warrior.

Time passes, I noted instead, aware of how long we had been away. Must return to Little Warrior. She worries.

Tarshi agreed readily, his thoughts turning to Livia with a warmth that mirrored my own feelings for her. Together, we banked and began our descent, wings spread wide to catch the air currents that would carry us back to the olive grove where she waited.

As we neared our destination, I sent him instructions on landing—how to angle his approach, how to use his tail for balance, how to fold his wings at the last moment to settle gently rather than crash.

His first attempt was slightly awkward, his momentum carrying him forward in a stumbling run before he managed to halt, but still impressive for a newly transformed Talfen.

Livia ran to meet us, her face alight with joy. "That was amazing!" she exclaimed, reaching up to stroke Tarshi's scaled muzzle. "You two were magnificent together."

Pleasure radiated from Tarshi at her praise, his massive head dipping to nuzzle against her gently.

The sight stirred something primal within me—approval of a mate's appropriate deference to the female.

In Talfen society, females held equal or greater status than males, their wisdom and strength honoured and respected.

Tarshi's instinctive recognition of this pleased me deeply.

Time to return human form, I instructed him. First shift back easier than first transformation. Body remembers way.

How? he asked, a trace of anxiety colouring his thoughts.

Reverse process. Remember human self. See clearly. Feel change begin.

I demonstrated, initiating my own transformation. The shift back to human form was indeed simpler—a flowing, almost pleasant sensation as wings retracted, scales receded, and bones reshuffled into human configuration. Within moments, I stood naked in the moonlight, my human form restored.

Tarshi watched intently, then closed his eyes in concentration.

His transformation back was slower than mine, but steadier than his initial shift had been.

Blue scales faded, his massive form contracted, wings folded and disappeared into his back.

When the process completed, he stood naked and panting, but human once more, his eyes wide with lingering wonder.

"I did it," he breathed, looking down at his human hands in amazement. "I actually did it."

"Did magnificently," I corrected, pride filling my voice despite the awkward human speech. "Natural talent. Strong blood."

Livia moved to his side, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. "You were incredible," she murmured. "So beautiful, so powerful. When you took off and flew with Sirrax... I've never seen anything so amazing."

He returned her embrace, his body still trembling slightly from the exertion of the double transformation. "It felt... right," he said softly. "Like I'd found a part of myself I never knew was missing."

I watched them together, satisfaction warming my chest. This was as it should be—my mates finding joy in each other, strengthening our bond as a unit.

In the old days, Talfen would often form complex mating groups, each member bringing different strengths to the collective.

Though Tarshi was not directly bonded to me as Livia was, his connection to her created a kind of extended bond, a pattern of relationships that felt right and natural.

He was still young, still had much to learn about his Talfen nature, but he had taken the first and most important step. He had embraced his true self, had flown in his ancestral form, had tasted freedom as few of his kind had in generations.

And in doing so, he had given me something precious as well—hope. Hope that the Talfen might yet reclaim their heritage, might yet fly free above an Empire that had sought to chain them. Hope that the future might hold more than endless servitude for my kind.

It was a fragile hope, easily crushed by imperial might.

But as I watched Tarshi and Livia together, their movements in sync, their bond visible even to human eyes, I allowed myself to nurture that hope.

To imagine a world where Talfen soared freely once more, where the skies belonged to us again, where chains and collars were nothing but a distant memory.

For tonight, at least, one more Talfen flew free. It was enough.

For now.