prissi

Welcome. To get you into the mood, into a medieval mage's university, let's start with magic music, the Merseburg Spells from the 12th century in this great performance at Rabenstein Castle.

The door burst open. "We've lost!" The 'taur-laboratory' sign slid across the floor until it hit the far wall.

Tarik sighed and looked up. "Erik! Gently."

"How can you be so calm?"

"Delicate work. See, she can write with them now." He held up a paw-like hand attached to her middle shoulder.

"You are still working on that cat-taur creature," Erik frowned. "You didn't only pay attention to the paws," he chuckled. "Didn't know you were a breast person."

"For your information: She came like this. Well, maybe they swelled a little after the goat soul merge."

"There's a goat inside?" Erik looked sceptical.

"Goats have the sturdiest vegetarian stomachs and can eat almost anything. They are also good climbers," he held up the paw again. "Do you see the black pad on the paw? That is split for better grip, like a goat's, but thinner. And still strong enough for long walks."

Erik shook his head. "I see cat, probably horse, and that huge tail is almost certainly from a squirrel. Why on earth a squirrel?"

"There is no horse in it, but two goats, a cat and three squirrels. Otherwise, I could not get enough mass. Her lower bone structure is carefully grafted, blending human, goat, cat and squirrel. At first, the squirrels were just because nobody cares if I work with squirrel souls, but then"

Erik waved his hand, "Thanks, too much info. Why are you still working on it? It looks finished."

"She is. The ultimate personal guard."

Erik looked sceptical. "Ultimate guard and writing poetry with the middle paws." He shook his head. "Anyway, the general surrendered. We lost the battle and we lost the army."

"So no more centaurs."

"Uh, yes, no centaurs either," Erik was confused, "why do you care about centaurs?"

"Unlike some other students here, I want to graduate. No centaurs, no reason to delay my exam. I will try to see the dean today."

Erik did not share his enthusiasm. But he was also less blessed with soul magic. Being a student was all he wanted of life, carefree and paid for by his family with no responsibilities. And the Imperial University was in Kwal, the capital of the empire. The place to be. He really did not get Tarik. Ok, he had a great work ethic, and he was good. But there was more to life. "Tomorrow is the weekend. Come on, I met a nice girl, and she has a cute friend too. You will whither prematurely with all that studying and working."

* * *

Although it was Saturday and lunchtime, Tarik was working. The Dean had agreed to defend his Master the following week. But three mages had handed in their retirement, so it was difficult to get a committee together right now. He was in the process of writing a letter to one of them, asking if he could oversee his defence before he would retire completely.

"Tarik?" Erik bolted into the room.

"The door is in perfect working order and opens without force," he sighed and put down his quill. "Yes? Ah, your new ladyfriend."

"What? No, I mean yes." He stepped aside to let a preternaturally endowed woman enter the room, who was visibly struggling to keep her balance. "Belinda, this is Tarik."

He sighed mentally. "Nice to meet you." Then he looked for a rune in his drawer. "Would you like some help with your back?"

She looked at him not very intelligently, but that was to be expected from Erik's victim.

But Erik understood. "Let him examine you. He is the second best."

She nodded.

"Please step on this rune. It will help your back and your balance."

As soon as the second foot came to rest, she froze.

"Erik, are you stupid?"

"But it would be my masterpiece. So we could graduate together.

"Working on a living person is forbidden. Nobody cares about my squirrel. But she is a woman. And you weren't even subtle, I'm pretty sure there's a whole cow's udder in there."

"But"

"And not even a basic modification for support. If she turns fast, she could rip her udder off."

"But"

"You never learn!" He sighed.

"But she wanted it that big. I discouraged her. This is just to show her that it would be too much."

"Liar." He gave Erik a sceptical look and looked deeper.

"And I also added a lot of supporting muscles."

Indeed, there was a lot of excess mass he could use to strengthen bones, tendons and cartilage. An interesting challenge. "You're really stupid. There is almost half a cow grafted to her soul. I told you many times, keep additional souls as tiny as possible."

"I just wanted to be safe with so much extra. What could happen?"

"Not sure, with so much extra soul vitality, she might get pregnant the first time, despite the protection. Maybe she needs to be milked twice a day because the cows’ soul felt like it needed this. Never was a soul grafted to a living human yet, so this is certainly a brand-new research topic, well made to be investigated by the inquisition. Damn, I can't remove the extra soul anymore."

Erik paled. "Maybe it will be okay."

He tried his angriest look. "Erik, keep your wits about you and think properly."

"Can you fix her?"

"I thought it would be your masterpiece."

Erik looked dejected. "OK, I give up. But can you fix her, please?"

"Ok, Puppy Eyes, let me try."

He took the other rune and put his hands inside her. From his masterpiece, he was well-versed in the human bone structure, perhaps more than some healers. Unfortunately, he had to make do with touch, as he lacked the healer's vision. "This will take some time."

"I'll get you something for lunch," and Erik left.

The afternoon passed. From time to time Erik came and left again, far too impatient and not at all curious. No wonder he was more of a butcher than a real soul mage. Or his stupid self-appointed title of Student of Cosmetic Magic, bullshit! Or cowshit in this case.

It took until sunset and she had changed a lot. Her shoulders were more than a handspan wider so that her still large breasts were less obvious and much better supported laterally. And her shoulders and back would support her properly and perhaps even feel normal to her. It could have been worse: she had been a strong woman to begin with, probably a blacksmith with the smell of metal in her hair (well, how could he not notice it when he was inside her shoulders for an hour). So the extra muscles were not too obvious, and the wider shoulders were hopefully acceptable. He had added some extra-human ligands inside her mounds to keep them from swinging too much. He had also loosened a lot of stiff tendons and tightened a few others. He could not do much about her soul, Erik had merged them quite well. It appeared still mostly human but with a patchy shade of cow.

He let the rune run out. Scientifically, it had been exciting to work on a human that had not been mind-wiped. But he was worried, of course. So his interest was very serious: "How are you?"

She blinked a few times as the rune faded. "What, ah."

"Please take a step!"

Only one step, but she smiled immediately. Then she hopped, turned and ran. "Moo!" she mooed, yes, mooed so enthusiastically that the windows rattled and thrust her arm into the air. Unstilted: "I've never felt so good." She kicked her leg as high as her head and almost fell backwards.

He smiled. "You had a bad posture before, so I had to lose quite a few ligaments. Please try to walk straighter."

She did, pushing her assets out even further, and her clothes creaked. But she didn't notice. "You're great."

He smiled. "Mages strive to help society. Ah, there is Erik."

She threw herself at Erik. "Tarik is very skilled," she said and kissed Erik. She really had fallen in love with him. Then she turned around: "Thank you, Mage Tarik."

"No problem, and psst," he put his finger to his lips.

"Yes, Erik already told me. Come, Erik, let's go." Since Erik did not move immediately, she simply took him up in her arms.

Tarik chuckled. A customer well served. Then his stomach reminded him that he had skipped lunch and dinner.

But it had been worth it, this was the work they were supposed to do. Even if it was forbidden, there was so much they could do with soul magic, like helping cripples and injured warriors. Smiling with a spring, he made his way to the refectory.

* * *

A bleary-eyed Erik slowly opened the door to the lab.

Tarik looked up in surprise. He did not know how to react. Let's state the obvious: "Erik, you look terrible."

"What have you done to her?"

"Well, restored her tendons to a healthy state. Reinforced some muscles and bones to support her mounds. Retained as much of your udder update as feasible. And also updated her protection, which you had also neglected."

"Sure you didn't add horse stamina?"

"You grafted a cow to her soul," Tarik reminded him. "She is a blacksmith or so, surely had enough stamina before."

"She demanded three times last night. Mooing in ecstasy. And then I had to suck her milk for breakfast. Seem like their shape has even changed a little."

"Erik, I warned you."

Erik ignored him. "She just threw me on my back. Ouch. And you could have left some belly fat. Her stomach was like stone."

"I aim to please. She seems happy, despite your butchering job."

Finally, Erik's rant came to an end. "Do you have tea?"

He poured Erik a cup.

"Anyway, I heard rumours from the kitchen. They might send the inquisition."

"What?"

"Tarik, we lost the war. The king is weak, and the centaurs were never much of a factor. The clerics hated them. They see souls as their domain."

The longer he thought about it, the more he agreed with Erik’s reasoning.

"You mean we are"

"Yes, the price of peace and keeping the king in power," Erik finished his sentence. "What a mess. Do you still want to graduate?"

Tarik did not answer. He had no answer.

* * *

As soon as the door slammed against the wall, Tarik knew it was Erik.

"The inquisition is here!"

Now, he was surprised. "You mean really here?"

"They took the dean!"

Oh no, why now? In just three days, he would have graduated and then far away. He pondered his options. "How much time do we have?"

"Maybe a quarter? They have announced a lockdown and there is someone at every staircase."

He looked around. His masterpiece, her, lay finished in the middle of the operating table, surrounded by runes to freeze her.

Unfortunately, this means hiding a body of about 30 stone and in a sealed environment. As an additional challenge, he was not sure of the inquisition could detect her stale soul even when hidden. He had no illusion about the clerics. They were not stupid.

"You can't hide that," Erik interrupted his train of thought. "They came for our department and asked the dean about the centaurs, or rather their souls."

"But it is only three days since we lost!"

"Don't complain to me. According to the rumours last night, a condition for surrender was no more soul magic. Hence the inquisition."

A muffled explosion and a green flash came from the courtyard window. They pried their heads through the narrow opening. The dean was fighting with two inquisitors. In other words, 72 years of a sedentary lifestyle against two cleric executers: The fight was over in less than a minute. Just when the executors would put shackles on the dean, he exploded himself.

They quickly pulled back their heads.

"Tarik!"

He sighed. It meant she had to go. "A quarter, you said?"

Tarik took an old saddlebag and stuffed it with everything that might contain traces of his mana. Then he copied his notebook and stuffed the old one into the bag as well. Erik understood. After a few minutes, the overflowing saddlebag was strapped to his masterpiece.

"Now the mana!" He took the largest container and made the runes fade.

Then they drained all mana out of everything on the table, her, and the items in that bag. It was more than they thought, and time was ticking. Finally, there was nothing left.

"She's breathing!"

Erik shrugged. "You did a good job, she can survive without mana."

"But her soul will not return, even though the magical bond is gone." He had expected her to revert to a dead human, which they could easily call a failed last-ditch effort. But she lived independently. He should ...

"Tarik, focus. This has to go!"

Erik was right. "Let's send her into battle." Tarik took the last two runes out of the storage.

"You want to send this to Kerwnough?"

"They had 50 centaurs there, one more won't make any difference."

"But we lost. It will be the Republic's now. If we're unlucky, she'll even get the attention of a healer there." Erik shook his head.

"Come on. She won't remember anything. Stale soul. So let's hurry." He handed Erik a second heavy transport rune. "On my mark: One, two, three!"

As so often before, their synchronisation was almost perfect. With enough practice, Erik could be good!

The blue runes on the yellow paper flashed, and the still nameless and stateless soul began to fade, along with the bag of incriminating evidence.

"You're really lucky you haven't named her yet," Erik commented.

"Lucky?" Tarik shook his head. How could he be lucky? "Masterpiece is gone, and"

"Lucky indeed," Erik interrupted, "and maybe you even have a new theme for a cleric-safe masterpiece, creatures after mana drain."

Tarik stopped. Could Erik actually have had a good idea?