from @natashadiggs - Because shouldn’t there be more dancing goin on in record stores? #justsayin 💁🏽♀️ thanks to the good folks @a1recordshop #nylonmag #seguraviudas 🎶 music by the young prodigy @nfromthewave #AIAO coming out soon #Repost @nylonmag ・・・ "In my day-to-day, I can be kind of shy or introverted in some ways. But when I DJ, that is my time to open up and share my passion, and share this music with people." —DJ @natashadiggs @seguraviudasusa #OpenUpCava #musicislove #70sfashion #vintage #vinyl #diggs 🎶❤️ - #FemaleFlow https://www.instagram.com/p/BrBRlMwlghI/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1d8n2zsbyuoci
She was scared; scared of the unknown, of all this unfamiliar pain she felt. She was cold; naked, her skin pricked with goosebumps as a cold breeze grazed her bare stomach. But she wasn’t alone.
Muffled voices could be heard from all sides, but they felt distant, like she was hearing them through a thick mist. “Oh, she’s waking up.” “Wow, she looks great. But I told you, they should have been bigger-” “Shut up, you’re such a moron.” “Aiao?”
That last phrase she recognized. Her name. She cracked her eyes open to slits, but even then, the light was overbearing. Several shapes loomed over her body. “Forus…” she croaked weakly, her voice struggling to rasp out any noise. One of the shapes leaned closer. “Aiao, I’m here,” the masculine voice assured her. His face came into view. Soft, lavender skin, deep plum-colored hair swept into a ponytail. Gentle silver eyes and a soothing smile. An elven man, by the way his pointed ears protruded from his skull and his eyebrows’ impressive length. “I’m here.”
“Forus…” she whispered again, wanting to sit up but feeling incredibly weak and helpless, laying on her makeshift operating table; a creaking, wooden-plank table, in the middle of a sizeable meeting room contained in an abandoned town hall. All the clutter had been pushed to the walls, making room for Aiao and her company. “Everything hurts…” Forus, the elf, nodded to her. “Of course… Anneli, could you please-” he was cut off as a hand budged past him, and two or three pills were shoved into Aiao’s mouth. She nearly gagged, but managed to dry-swallow them, the pills leaving a disgusting aftertaste in her dry mouth. Forus sighed, standing straight and pulling out of her line of clear vision. Things blurred before her eyes. “Thank you, Anneli…” she could hear the elf say, a female voice retorting, “What? I helped her. You can’t blame me for being tired, it’s been hours.” “Jeez, calm down Annie…” someone else tried to interject.
Aiao’s head swam, and the voices became fainter and fainter. Spots danced in her vision, and Forus’ concerned face was the last thing she saw before she dipped into unconsciousness again.
…
When she woke again, they at least had the decency to dress her.
They weren’t familiar clothes, but they were something. Her old ones would no longer fit her new size… She lightly touched the soft fabric of her shirt, wincing at the pain it took to lift her arm. She opened her eyes again, her vision still relatively blurry. Suddenly, strong hands grasped her and lifted her into an upright sitting position.
“Be CAREFUL with her!” she heard Forus yell, glimpsing the man rush to her bedside. Aiao could see clearer now; the elf was glaring at a shorter, attractive human male leaning on the table- the one who had helped her up. His hands had relinquished from her as soon as he heard Forus’ shout of protest. “Forus, calm down… I was only trying to help her.” She caught a “why is everyone so tense?” muttered under the man’s breath, before he met her eyes. He smiled. “Hey Aiao, how’re you feeling? It’s gonna be weird, talking to you with the new look…”
“She’s probably tired, Anthony… Those body-altering spells aren’t easy on anyone,” Forus interjected, reaching out to lightly grasp Aiao’s chin and tilt her head from side to side, examining her. Aiao’s eyes flicked to Anthony. “I’m fine, Anthony…” she croaked with her dry throat. She managed to curl the corners of her lips into a smile, before glancing at Forus. “Could I have water…?” she asked of him. The elf nodded quickly, darting away from her side for a brief moment before returning with a flask. He lifted it to Aiao’s lips and allowed her to drink deeply.
After she was finished, her eyes finally wandered to her hands, and she was shocked at their state. Her skin was a pretty, pale pink, hands tiny and slender. Everything seemed larger around here; Forus was huge compared to her now. Where she once rivaled him in his seven-foot size, her new form couldn’t compete. She was small. She was changed.
Forus noticed Aiao examining herself. “Do you want to see how you look?” he questioned gently. She nodded, watching the man lean over to grab a small hand mirror and give it to her. Nervously, she held the reflective glass up and nearly gasped at what she saw.
By the gods, she looked like them. Blood elves, or the Sin’Dorei as some called them. A race of the Horde, a people that weren’t welcomed within the city walls she had known all her life. But there was a sort of ethereal beauty in her new looks, a fearsome beauty. Her short, choppy hair, once bright teal, now was colored a wispy, silvery blonde. Her long elven ears perked upright, her chin pointed and lips full. She pulled them into a pout, curiously. She looked completely different from her previous state… Aiao was so stunned by her newfound beauty that it too her a minute to register what color her eyes were.
“Forus… what did you do to my eyes?” she questioned sharply, looking to the man. Immediately, his face fell into one of mild guilt. “A-ah…” he started, “Alasdair wanted them that way. He thought it would be best.”
For they were not the color they had decided on. Blood elf eyes were pure, bright emerald green. No other color would do. But only her right eye matched the racial appearance. The other was hued an animalistic golden shade, complimenting the green but giving her an absolutely unmistakable appearance. She would be noticed, and she would be found out.
“The whole point of the mission is to fit in!” she protested, swinging her legs off the side of the table and ignoring the way her muscles screamed in pain. Her eyes scanned the room, falling on the other two occupants. Anneli, a human woman, was lounging in an aged armchair, her legs kicked up on the armrest. She looked positively bored, even when she met Aiao’s odd-colored eyes. “It’s not my fault,” she scoffed, “Alasdair’s decision. He’s the boss.” The grumpy woman fingered a strand of her own light blonde hair, glancing to her twin, Anthony, hovering behind her. He gave an apologetic look. “She’s right, Aiao… but you’re still convincing. If it wasn’t for us three having made the alterations, I couldn’t tell you apart from a real blood elf.”
Aiao gave an exasperated sigh, tearing her eyes away from the twins and closing them. She felt Forus lay a comforting hand on her tiny shoulder, after a moment of silence between the fur of them, the quiet thick and suffocating in the air. “...Cheer up Aiao,” the elf at her side said. “Alasdair wanted to see you when you woke up, in any case. He seemed anxious about the transformation.” The Sin’Dorei girl glanced up to Forus’ silver eyes. Her eyes once matched his in color… “...All right,” she finally said. The man took something in his other hand, and snuck it into Aiao’s palm. “Chew on those,” he explained; she unfurled her hand to find several fragrant leaves. “It’ll alleviate the pain.” Aiao noded, sliding off her table and stuffing the leaves inside her mouth. She nearly gasped at the pain shooting through her legs when her feet hit the ground. Skeleton-altering spells were agonizing for the receiver, she had once read. Exhaling hard, she chewed the leaves determinedly and began to pace across the room. Anthony and Anneli peered at her curiously, four identical blue eyes watching the girl’s progress. Forus trailed behind her, slowly and unsurely. “You want me to come with you?” he asked. She shook her head, getting the feel of walking in this abnormally small body.
The scene of the abandoned town hall was not new to her. It was the syndicate’s meeting place, after all. Located in a thick, overgrown forested area of Duskwood, the hall had fallen into shambles years before. As she padded down the hallway, moonlight filtered through the holes in the roof, bathing her- her new body- in an eerie silver glow. At least no one bothered them, in this solitary, dead place. It was a fitting headquarters for a guild of assassins.
She never looked like an assassin, in her previous form nor now. She was only the elven equivalent of 21, always appearing young, childlike, curious to others. Her late mother had always said that she was so sweet looking… what would she say if she could see her daughter now? A killer, a member of the Midnight Corona, an assassin syndicate feared throughout the great city of Stormwind. Aiao had been taken under the wing of the leader, Alasdair Herron, when she was barely an adult. She was scared and helpless and malleable, then. And she still was, in a way. A different way.
The elf never felt like she fit in with these cold-hearted killers, the crowd that killed for sport and money. But they were also the only family she had ever known. She learned their games and their tricks, she killed her first target of many. She had friends. Forus Silverbook, the night elf mage, was the best friend she could have ever imagined. He was the only one she had ever come out to, that she was a lesbian. The work was terrible, but this was the only life she knew. She would be lost without these people. And yet.. did she really fit in if the companionship was the only thing she stuck around for?
Yet it was her innocence and likeability that brought this transformation upon her. The Midnight Corona was already well-known in Stormwind, but little known in the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms… It was Alasdair’s vision to be the biggest and most feared syndicate on the continent. And to do that, they needed intelligence on the Horde races. He had chosen Aiao out of his dozens of followers for the mission. To be physically transformed into a blood elf, and to live a double life. Spying on the Horde, gathering information, reporting back to the syndicate so they could better themselves. She had to assimilate herself into their society, and to do that, she needed to look the part. The three magi of the guild- Forus, Anthony and Anneli- were the ones to transform her. They had labored over her body for hours, changing every facet of her being to be identical to one born of the Sin’Dorei race. The last thing she remembered before the change was Forus telling her she’d be okay...
...Oh. She had reached the end of the hall.
Slowly, she pushed on the great double doors of the room, wincing as the door gave an agonized squeal at the movement. It was a smaller space than the one she was in previously; a side room, an office of sorts. It served its purpose as the personal work room of Alasdair, the leader of the syndicate, the grand orchestrator to the organized madness of their killing.
Her odd eyes swept the room, and finally fell on the intimidating form of her leader. He was a Death Knight- that much was obvious, from his incredibly blue, luminous eyes that were the embodiment of cold. At full height, the muscular man reached 6’4”, his jawline strong and a full beard surrounding his mouth. He only appeared to be 45 or so- middle aged for humans- but his shoulder length hair was a snowy white. Death Knights were dead. He didn’t look so bad, for being so.
At the sitting man’s side, a shorter, pretty woman stood. Her curly brunette hair tumbled about her shoulders, and her brown eyes flicked up to Aiao once the door opened. It appeared they were deep in discussion before Aiao had entered. The newly-blood elven woman smiled at the two gently. Alasdair lofted a brow, and stood. “Aiao?”
“Yes sir,” she replied formally, putting on her persona of confidence. Inside she was terrified of what he had to say. The human woman beside him looked Aiao over. “You look perfect. Very pretty,” she commented, smiling; well, maybe it was a smirk, but Aiao liked to think it was a smile. Her name was Erinniy Fabula, and she was both a dark priestess and Alasdair’s right-hand woman. She looked so pretty when she smiled… She had the most perfect lips Aiao had ever seen.
“Well, Fairestrom… looking good, as Erinniy stated,” Alasdair said matter-of-factly. “Why don’t you take a seat? There’s much to discuss.”
Aiao did as asked, stepping around a creaky chair and sitting, poised and pretty with her new look. As a night elf, she was clumsy, awkward and tall, constantly tripping and towering over everyone. As a blood elf, and a spy at that, she had to be perfect in order to not be found out. Alasdair and Erinniy sat as well, behind an old desk that had one of its legs propped up by a stack of books. The man met the elf’s mismatched eyes. “You need to become one of them, Fairestrom. This persona. A blood elf. Thats why you were selected for this mission. You’re adaptable.”
The Death Knight continued, “You need to practice your languages, Thalassian and Orcish. Speak to me in Thalassian. Try it.” Aiao hesitated, wracking her brain for the lessons she had taken. The elven language was similar to her native one, yet there were still distinct differences… “A-ah, hello Alasdair. Are you doing well?” she asked of him in the unfamiliar tongue. He didn’t seem impressed. “Your accent is terrible,” he stated flatly in the Common tongue of humans. They spoke Common in the guild, disregarding everyone else’s racial tongues. Aiao’s face fell at his comment. “You’d better learn fast. We’re sending you off tomorrow evening.”
“T-Tomorrow?” the girl stuttered, shocked. She had been promised time to learn, time to get used to this body. Time to cope. Alasdair only nodded. “Don’t look so shocked. You know plans change.” Aiao swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod back. His word was law. “The ship to Bilgewater is departing a week earlier than we anticipated. We can’t afford for you to miss it.” His voice was uncaring, even though he told her, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Erinniy interjected, “You look the part. Just stay silent and watch them. The Horde will never know the difference.” Aiao took some comfort in those words. She just had to stay silent…
“Just remember. You’re there on behalf of the Midnight Corona,” Alasdair reminded her. “You are our spy. Gather information. Play your cards right… and kill anyone that gets in the way of that.” He narrowed his unnerving, glowing eyes. “That’s an order, Fairestrom.”
Aiao’s gaze fell from his for a brief moment, before she remembered her manners. Her faux conviction. “Yes Alasdair,” she replied, affirming his orders. He was the boss…
“Good.” He seemed satisfied with her. “Go, then. I’m sure you and the magi are tired. They worked on transforming you for four hours, if you weren’t aware.” He paused. “You have a lot to do. Pack and be here at dusk tomorrow.”
The elf picked herself up off the chair, nodding. The leaves Forus had given her made the pain from her muscles disappear. She had turned to leave, but remembered something; looking over her shoulder, she questioned, “Sir?”
“Yes, Fairestrom?”
“Why did you give me two different colored eyes?”
He looked at her for a good long moment. “So you’re different. Distinguishable. Now go.”
She left the room without another word. Because she knew the real reason they did it. They wanted to watch her every move, track everything she did. And she was their perfect puppet.
She closed her eyes, one green and one gold. This was the life that was chosen for her to lead, and lead it she would.
