the-progenitor-god:
Sothis had never really spoken of this place to many. It was place where the transformations took place. Yet, others who had come here and not returned were stuck here. As living proof to others that the worse is bound to happen. As a mother, it is the most terrifying thing to place in her child. Yet she knew that Cichol would be able to withstand transforming. And here he was, standing before her.
Her wings evaporated from her back as she walked towards her young son. Her hand reaching out to gently place her hand on the being before her. She was so very proud of him for trusting her. It seemed nothing out of the ordinary happened as well. She was so very proud of another one of her children withstanding this.
“I am so very proud of you Cichol.. Your form is.. immaculate. I told you everything would be alright. Your power is not overtaking you, and you haven’t rampaged or anything. You contained your own strength and I, as your mother, could not be more proud of you.” Her smile was kind and soft, yet beaming with pride for her child. She ran her hand along the scales of her son, making sure that there were no internal injuries to him.
Sothis had found nothing short of normal. He would be experiencing pain in the morning from the transforming, yet it’s easier when there’s no threat present.
“Can you try to take off and fly for me now?” Sothis glided herself back down the stairs, to prepare herself for the initial take off. “I will join you once you are in the air, Cichol.”
Young and naive to the workings of the world, Cichol was blissfully unaware of the darker side of transformation. Just as contorting one’s body to take on a new form granted great power, it was also tied to great risks. Other Nabatean children before him, unable to withstand transformation, perished on the very land he stood upon. Some from the exhaustion of shifting form, others from losing their minds and becoming nothing more than a rampaging monster who must perish to cease the destruction. It was both failure and success that made this place so spiritual. The energy success left in its wake served to ease those undertaking their first transformation, while the presence of failure marked the location as a graveyard in equal measure.
Within the confines of a completely foreign body, Cichol found himself somewhat at a loss. Now that his human form was temporarily lost, he had gained new limbs and abilities he had yet to master. Uncertain but determined, Cichol took a step forward in his transformed legs. Moving what used to be his arms and legs were simple enough, though he stumbled in his early steps as he learned to balance a new body. His tail and wings failed worse, flopping awkwardly along with him, as he had yet to understand how they interacted with the rest of his body. Had anyone accompanied him but his mother, he may have felt embarrassed by his lack of control.
Before he could allow such embarrassment to fester, a hand touched his face, and Cichol leaned into the comfort provided by his mother. Transformation was arduous, even to a young, gifted child full of energy, and he was encouraged by her words of praise, even when the land beneath him trembled with every step. There was still fear within him, fear that he would bring destruction in his new form, but there was peace in knowing what was broken could be healed.
“Fly?” He stiffened, craning his head somewhat in confusion. With newfound focus, he began to move each appendage one after another...wiggling his toes, moving his neck, shifting his legs...but he still found himself uncertain of his wings. It wasn’t quite as innate, but determination kept him motivated to try. After a few moments, he finally managed to twitch his wings and tail and he gazed down to his mother.
"Wait! May we practice first? I am...not so certain of myself.”













