Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mirabelle stood in front of the bathroom sink and stared down at her hand, struggling to figure out exactly what it was she was feeling.

At the end of her right index finger her nail had taken on a strange shape, pointed and narrow with a sharp tip just barely coming to the end of the finger. A darker shade than the rest of her nails she couldn’t tear her eyes off of it even as the lingering tingles of Body Craft ran their course. 

Her nail– well…o-okay, it wasn’t really a nail was it? It was… a claw.

Not much of one at the moment, it didn’t poke out far enough to scratch anything. But if she had done this properly…

She tried to flex a muscle she hadn’t even had before and almost went cross-eyed trying to figure out how that worked. Had she even done it right? Could she undo this? What if she was stuck with–

She found the right muscle and flexed it, the claw slid forward and curled viciously from the tip of her finger, almost a full inch long and wickedly sharp. She stared at it in amazement before reversing the motion and retracting it back. The motion was smooth and easy, she repeated it over and over again and smiled. Just like a cat! She had modeled the structure off of one after all.

Mew mew kitty claw! She giggled to herself. 

Watching the claw move back and forth Mirabelle swallowed, feeling an odd twitchy sensation in her spine. She turned her hand to watch the light catch on the sharp tip then after a moment's pause scrambled to repeat her work on the other fingers of that hand.

This all had started innocently enough– well, it was still innocent, or she thought it was. She… didn’t really know what it was, honestly.

She knew how it had started at least. 

It had started with wanting to learn more about Body Craft.

With the King defeated it felt like the whole future had opened up for them, so many possibilities! So much time! They could do anything! 

Which was terrifying of course. Mirabelle barely felt like she could do something most days, much less anything!

But traveling with her new family was easy and fun, so she thought she could start with other things that she had always found easy and fun, like learning new types of Craft! She was, apparently, very good at that. Stopping the King had even prompted some of the other housemaidens to start using the word ‘prodigy’ again, which kind of made her want to curl up into a ball and die.

Siffrin had learned Rock and Paper Craft during the loops, which was amazing! So she definitely wanted to learn Rock craft herself now so she could join the ‘uses all three types’ club that he had joined Odile in–then they could have secret meetings and poke fun at Isabeau and it would be really great–but that involved a lot of breaking things, so best to wait until they weren’t staying in an inn. 

There were other options like Crafting items with different properties (hard to do on the road), Healing Craft (which honestly she was kind of sick of for the moment, too many memories), and Time Craft (no), but she had kept coming back in her head to Body Craft. It was just so interesting! It helped people out so much and there had been a lot of amazing advancements in it lately so there was plenty to study. She even had been able to take an excellent book on it from the House when they left. The only problem was…

She didn’t want to change anything? She liked being Mirabelle, and while that made her feel kind of like a failure sometimes it also made it feel weird to practice Body Craft. She could make herself taller, or stronger, or change how she looked, but she didn’t want any of those? She liked her body, it was comfortable and cute and all of her family liked her just as she was.

Was it weird? To study Body Craft without wanting to actually Craft yourself? Isabeau, when he saw her fretting over the Craft book, had waved her worries away. ‘Just try some simple stuff.’ he had said, ‘Change a lock of hair, or something else easy to change back.’

He had even said that he thought learning Body Craft without necessarily wanting to Change anything was a great idea! Most people who learned it just mastered enough to make the changes they wanted, then moved on with their lives. So she had a real chance to understand it on a deeper level. Then if she wanted she could use that to help other people who wanted to Change, which she thought sounded amazing! She had started practicing that same day.

And it had all been really fun and normal, she had enjoyed reading about the theory and her first practice attempts had been thrilling. She had taken classes on it before, sure, but it had been a while and it was a lot more fun when she wasn’t in a classroom having to follow a lesson plan. It had all been going great!

It was just… she had gotten bored with changing locks of hair pretty fast, and there was this idea that just wouldn’t leave her…

Changing the other fingers was much faster than the first one had been. She found the process satisfying, the flesh and bone warping and molding like clay as her Craft ran over them. Moving quickly but also being careful to pay attention to blood and nerves so all the cells were still getting nutrients. 

Working with meat was challenging and there were limits to how far you could push it–there was a reason Siffrin still had the eyepatch after all–but at the same time the body had a way of covering for minor mistakes and being able to feel the process was incredible! As was the moment she finished and flexed her new set of claws, watching as all of them moved in perfect sync.

She moved her hand up and ran the claws lightly across her cheek, shivering at the feeling. So sharp! She combed them through her hair and tapped their tips on the back of her neck. She had done it, this was real, she had claws, she… Wow this was a lot. Lots of feelings. 

She spent far too long waving her hand through the air, clawing at imagined enemies and making *swoosh* sounds with her mouth.

*knock* *knock*

Mirabelle almost jumped out of her skin as someone rapped on the door to the bathroom. “Belle!” She heard Bonnie’s voice from the other side. “It’s late! You’ve been in there forever! Do I need to go get a doctor? Cause I don’t know how to do that but I can step outside and scream really loudly until someone comes if you want!”

“No! Don’t do that!” She yelped, scrambling over to the door and hiding her hand behind her as she opened it. Bonnie stood beyond it in their pajamas already looking groggy and ready to pass out. “I will be right out! Just wait for me in bed, okay?”

The kid made a sound of disgruntled agreement and shuffled back to their bed. Closing the door Mirabelle looked down at their hand, it would take a while to put it back to normal but… maybe she didn’t have to? If she kept them retracted it should be fine, probably, she could change it back in the morning.

The idea of sleeping with her hand like this suddenly made it truly hit home, that this was part of her body, but… she didn’t hate that? So she carefully set her notes away, changed into her own sleeping clothes, and slipped into bed. 

Lying there with Bonnie lightly snoring as she hugged them against her, she was careful not to touch them with the claws themselves. It worked, it felt natural, these claws still worked for hugging her loved ones. In fact, she mused as she drifted off, couldn’t they be a bit more monstrous?

In the morning when she woke up to the sound of Bonnie running out of the room to get breakfast started–they had been insisting that every inn they stopped at let them cook–she stretched her arms out, savoring a strange rightness she felt in her body. 

Then she noticed that during the stretch her claws had ripped long tears in the sheets and she panicked. Running to the bathroom to quickly return her hands to normal and stashing a number of coins under the pillow in the hopes that would pay for the sheet because she was not explaining to the innkeeper what had happened. 

It would be another week before she tried something like that again. But she couldn’t stay away for long.

Mirabelle had never figured out how to put this but… she was happy that the King had used Body Craft like he had.

She might be the only one who felt like that? His massive, tyrannical form had given him incredible power, being able to smash through walls with his bare hands, which was bad. She would always remember the terrifying sight of him climbing up the House when he had attacked, hands so large and powerful they cracked the stone with every movement. 

She had overheard discussions before and after his defeat that labeled him as an example of Body Craft run amok, of going beyond the limits of what anyone should do. Mirabelle disagreed! If that had been how he wanted to be then it was a good thing he had Changed to that, even if what he had done afterwards was evil that couldn’t change that.

She hated the idea that anyone should stop themselves from being who they wanted to be because they would be deemed a threat. There was a big difference between being dangerous and actually hurting people. 

And given that, well, Mirabelle had defeated the King and was now, probably, pretty dangerous herself… It was a difference she found herself caring a lot about these days.

But her disagreement ran deeper, even as she had faced him at the top of the House she had been glad that he had Changed like that. She tried to imagine facing off against him without the Body Craft, hearing him say all those awful things and try to destroy them but he just looked like some guy!?! That would be worse, much worse, very very wrong.

She thought that, maybe, he had understood that? That he had known he was going to be the villain, or at least that people would try to stop him, and he had Crafted himself into a monster to suit that role. Maybe he had known that what he was trying to do wasn’t something a person could do while being human. 

Standing across from him with all of Vaugarde and Siffrin shielded behind her, forced against all her wishes into the role of the Hero against the Monster, it had been terrifying but it had also felt right. Like realizing you were in a horror story but appreciating that at least it was a well written one.

The image of his colossal form, sparking with the sheer power of Craft infused into it, had stayed with her for weeks now. Reappearing in nightmares and dreams that weren’t quite nightmares.

She wondered how he had made the Change, had he just holed up in a basement somewhere and slowly worked in the dark to become something so terrifying? What would it be like, to watch your own body slowly become something out of a nightmare?

…How would it feel? 

Mirabelle sat down at the table for breakfast profoundly aware of her mouth in a deeply uncomfortable way. Was she smiling enough? No, she must look worried, smile more! No! Not that much! They will see! Smile a normal amount, once you remember what that amount is, and keep your lips closed!

Thankfully her family seemed distracted. Bonnie was passing out the long sandwiches and bowls of tomato soup they had made, Odile was half asleep in her morning coffee, and Isabeau and Siffrin… were engaged in a complex game of making kissy faces at each other every time Bonnie looked away from them. Which was amazing and made it reality hard not to grin or laugh!

But if she did… it would be very hard to explain the fangs.

This was a bad idea. It wasn’t like her family would think less of her if they noticed, she knew that, but it would freak them out and then she would have to explain and she didn’t know how to explain this and–

She jumped as Bonnie set her food down in front of her. “Oh! Thanks! It looks lovely!” She blurted, only a little muffled by trying to say it without opening her lips, luckily Bonnie had caught sight of what Isabeau and Siffrin were doing and was now busy yelling at them for being gross in front of their soup, so she was left to stare down at the thick roast beef sandwich. This was a bad bad idea but… she had to try this.

Slowly she picked it up and–ensuring all the others were distracted–opened her jaw wider than she ever had before and took a bite.

At first she had just made her teeth a bit sharper and pointier but that had not felt like enough, so she had spent an hour that morning Crafting the culmination of every amazing spine-chilling description of dripping, monstrous fangs she had ever read. She had needed to alter her jaw to be able to open wide enough and change the structure of her mouth and gums to allow the longer–over two inches–fangs to fit and slide past each other but in the end she had gotten shivers just looking at herself. She needed to know how it felt to eat with teeth like this.

Now those fangs, Crafted razor sharp, sliced through the sandwich effortlessly. She jerked and almost dropped the sandwich at the sharp crunch of the fresh lettuce, but otherwise was enthralled by the feeling of the food tearing around unfamiliar teeth.

A hundred remembered scenes of monsters ripping through flesh and cracking bones, of innocent people hanging just inches out of a creature's jaws, all sprung to new life in her mind. So many of the best parts of her horror books suddenly felt just a bit more real to her. Mayonnaise and mustard sliding between her teeth like blood, and– and– 

The sandwich was really good!! She groaned in satisfaction and thanked the Change god yet again for Bonnie. Years of perfectly alright food at the House of Change spiced up by trying various amateur attempts at cooking in her culinary classes meant she still hadn’t gotten used to food with so much taste and variety! She hoped that would never change, this was one thing she would happily accept remaining exactly the same.

Taking care not to give anyone else a glimpse that might make them think she had been replaced by a monster or something, she continued happily munching away at the sandwich. Awkwardly spooning soup into her mouth between bites and shivering as it ran around teeth only suited for eating bloody meat. 

There was something about it, about the simple mundane activity combined with the edge of horror, that thrilled her to the bone. Merged with the lingering sense of accomplishment from how well she had done the Body Craft and it was…it was–

“Belle? You okay?” 

She jumped as Bonnie suddenly appeared at her side looking concerned. As she did so she felt the unsettling sensation of her fangs cleanly biting through the metal soup spoon, the end falling off onto her tongue. Oh. Oh no.

As she stared wide-eyed at them Bonnie continued, “Cause you keep shaking and are being really quiet which is bad, but you also are eating a lot which is good, so which is it?”

Lie. Lie! Lie!!! Ignore everything you have ever told Siffrin about being honest and lie like a rug! Swallowing the soup–and not the end of the spoon–and awkwardly keeping the handle sticking into her mouth in what she hoped was not too unnatural a way, she shrugged and mumbled out, “Mkay, maybe sick?”

“Sick?” Bonnie repeated, squinting at her. They then pointed at her bowl, “More soup!” 

Thinking quickly she used her tongue to shove the end of the spoon to the side of her mouth, quickly pulled out the handle and hid it in her sleeve, and then grabbed the soup bowl. Bringing it up to her mouth she tilted her head back and slurped the rest down, much to Bonnie’s obvious delight.

“Yeah!!!” They cried, throwing their hands up in excitement. “Soup!!! You will be better in no time!”

Smiling at them–not too wide–and noticing that the others were definitely looking at her weird, Mirabelle quickly mumbled something about needing to lie down and slipped out of the room, promising to have more soup later. She practically jogged up to her room and to the bathroom mirror, finally opening her mouth and spitting out the end of the spoon. 

With trembling fingers she picked it up and held it up to the handle. Change, the cut was so clean! She raised a finger to her mouth and pressed it against the side of her fangs. She– she–

She had to change back, this was actually kind of uncomfortable? She was pretty sure the fangs had nicked her gums a few times and her jaw kind of ached. It also made soup really hard to eat.

It took her only about ten minutes this time, luckily the Craft techniques for reverting a change to a previous state were really well researched so she didn’t need to remember how her teeth had looked. Once she was done she ran her tongue across them and sighed in relief at not needing to worry about them cutting her. This really did feel better.

She had heard of people who Changed their bodies into strange shapes. Making themselves incredibly tall, making their eyes all sorts of wonderful shades and shapes, painting designs in the shades of their skin. She was pretty sure there was a village in Poteria where people often gave themselves extra arms! She really hoped they could visit on their travels. 

And of course there were so many stories where someone Changed themselves into an animal. She didn’t know if anyone had ever done that? They probably had? She guessed that if they did, there wouldn’t really be anyone who knew about it, right? Also moving your body away from typical human limits was supposed to be really hard, though so far her experiments had seemed pretty simple.

But they had done those things because that was how they wanted to be, what felt right for them. She…didn’t? Not exactly? She liked how she was, thank you very much! She didn’t want to live with fangs or claws. It just… something about this made her feel free. Like it broke her out of just being Mirabelle and made her feel like she could be something completely different if she wanted to, even if she didn’t.

It made being Mirabelle not feel like she was stuck but instead like it was a choice. All without needing to actually Change to be someone else, she could just be something else which felt easier somehow.

Either way, she should probably go make sure Bonnie wasn’t worried, and then have some more soup. Body Crafting was hungry work!

Chapter Text

Fur was strange.

Mirabelle would've thought it was just like hair but everywhere. Her first attempt to grow some had proven that wrong, and been terrible, and messy. She hadn’t figured out a way to make hair shorter with Craft, so she had just had to shed the excess hair which had then clogged the shower drain…

She shook her head to clear the memory of that awful experience. The point was she had two problems to solve. Figure out how fur worked, and figure out how to make it temporary without needing to shed it afterwards.

Step one was simpler, she just had to find some good examples of hair and fur to study.

Fur had been fun and easy! She had just gone to a pet store! 

Okay, she tried really hard not to abuse how generous people had been towards them since they had stopped the King. Because that would be rude, and also, made her feel really weird.

But she had allowed herself this one, as the shopkeeper had been really nice and let all of the kittens and cats out to play and they had covered her and she had pet all of them and told them that she loved them and it had been so much fun!

Isabeau and Bonnie had been there as well, and had been too busy enjoying the cats to notice how she kept stopping to look carefully at all the fur. She had written down a bunch of notes afterwards. Hopefully that would help.

Which just left the hair.

So she thought about it, and if she was going to use this for Crafting herself, she should study the best hair she could find, right? That way the fur she gave herself would be amazing!

Now, Mirabelle loved her hair, so there was a pretty high bar to clear to find someone with even better hair.

Luckily she knew exactly who she needed.

So she went looking for Siffrin.

She found them sitting on a couch in the inn’s common room, reading.

It was late into the evening, and luckily only him and Odile were still up. She couldn’t have asked for this if there were any strangers around. A fire was burning low in the hearth and both of them had books in their laps, enjoying that quiet solidarity that the two of them always seemed to share and that warmed her heart to see. 

She loved seeing the ways each of them loved the others, it had made the journey since the King so special. 

She slipped behind the couch and stopped behind Siffrin, looking down at their sprawling mess of darkless hair, remembering all the times lately she had gotten to brush and comb it. Absolutely treasured memories.

Getting to actually touch Siffrin still felt too good to be true. The entire time she had known them they had seemed like one of the most huggable people she had ever seen, but of course she had needed to respect their desire not to be touched. But then! It turned out that had all been wrong! They could touch him and he really liked it when they did!

She had been staring for too long. Siffrin shifted in their seat, turning to look at her with a curious expression. “Mira?” They asked, soft and gentle. She had always loved their voice.

Mirabelle smiled back, bubbly and warm as she was so often around her family these days. “Siffrin! Could I, um.” she faltered, but she wanted this too much for nerves, “could I touch your hair?”

His eye widened and his mouth hung open. Their face flushed and they turned back forward, not looking at her but nodding frantically. Cute!

Humming in satisfaction she reached forward and gently dug both hands into their hair. Siffrin’s hair was amazing! So soft! And the shade was the purest darkless she had ever seen! And there was so much of it! All messy and fun to run your hands through! She quickly lost herself to this exquisite pleasure. 

Siffrin obediently sat in front of her, from what she could see of his face he looked stunned, embarrassed, and helplessly happy. Across from them Odile kept glancing up from her book to look at them, a teasing smile on her face.

Eventually she gave up on reading, set her book aside, and relaxed back in her chair to watch Siffrin, who buried his face in his hands out of embarrassment. But did not ask her to stop!

So she didn’t, research could be really fun!

Sometimes she felt like they had all just brushed past the fact that Siffrin had turned into a giant.

She could vividly remember standing at the top of the House of Change when Siffrin had taken all of the remaining power of their wish into themselves. Watching as they became a colossal monster version full of stars and tinted with a shade that apparently didn’t exist anymore? That had happened?! 

She got why they didn’t talk about it that much, it hadn’t really been what was important. Listening to Siffrin, assuring him that they all cared, that they weren’t ever going to abandon them. That was important. The fact that Siffrin’s fear had turned him into a giant for a minute there was sort of just set dressing.

But she also felt like she was going crazy not talking about it?! Because that had been terrifying and kind of amazing!? But she didn’t think Siffrin wanted to talk about it and when she had tried to discuss it with Isabeau he had turned weird shades at the reminder and started making noises like a tea kettle. Which was probably some sort of ‘being-in-love’ thing? She kind of understood though, it had been incredible. 

She kept calling the giant ‘Bigfrin’ in her mind, which always made her giggle.

The weirdest part was how it had just made sense to her. Siffrin had been feeling so much right then, so they had turned into a form big and astonishing enough to match their emotions. That felt right! She kind of wished everyone could do that. It would be a lot harder to ignore when you were hurting people if they turned into giant glowy monsters and yelled about their problems. That would be great! 

She remembered a line from a book she had read once, ‘Everyone is a monster sometimes’. The book had been a tragedy and the line had been meant as a final depressing conclusion, a reminder that the same evil that drove some to destroy lives existed inside everyone. 

She hadn’t liked the book much–way too mopey, it had felt like the author hated their characters being happy–but that line had stuck with her for years, bouncing around in her head like it couldn’t quite find a place.

Maybe this was why, maybe that line didn’t have to be tragic, maybe instead it could be something beautiful! It all depended on what being a monster meant.

And even if she didn’t really like thinking of what Siffrin had become as a ‘monster’–she would feel horrible if he heard her call him that–she wanted what she was turning herself into to be a monster. It felt good! Besides, she had read more than enough books to know that being a monster wasn’t about being evil.

It was about being breathtaking and terrifying and too amazing to be real! It was about being unstoppable! And beautiful! Not like a person, but like a complex piece of art! Something that challenged you and made you examine and admire it even if it scared you! 

And it was about not being human and not having to do human things! Like worry! Or talk!! Or Change!!! Or Bond–

…

She was getting off track, um, right, Bigfrin. 

After they had transformed they had turned back later with no problems, just a flash of light and normal Siffrin again. She also remembered what Siffrin had said had happened to the King in the loops when they’d won. Apparently her last attack had always made him disappear? That hadn’t made sense, but Odile had had a theory.

She said… that when he had died–which she would not feel bad about–the Craft holding his body like that had probably ended. So he had turned back into a normal guy, just like Siffrin had…but right in the middle of the most powerful Craft attack she had probably ever done! Which meant he would have… disintegrated…

Which! She felt! Totally normal about! And it hadn’t even actually happened because of the time loops so she had not disintegrated anyone and didn’t need to feel anything about it! So there!!

…

When monsters could do stuff like that it was just cool and the good kind of scary. They never suddenly felt too dangerous for their own skin. That would be nice.

But! That was weird! Because that was not how Body Craft worked! If someone who had used it to Change died, their body stayed that way because Body Craft altered your body then it ended. At least, that was how it was supposed to work.

Whichever way Siffrin and the King had used it worked differently, it seemed to let them change their bodies in much more extreme ways and also changed them seamlessly back when it ran out. That would be so useful!

And yeah, both of the examples she had to work off were using Wish Craft–which she was mostly clueless on–but she didn’t think that mattered. Wish Craft had powered their other Crafts, and it had allowed them to instinctively use Craft in ways no one else had ever done, but at the end of the day they were still just using Time Craft and Body Craft. She should be able to replicate what they did on a smaller scale. 

Or, at least, someone should be able to. She was… just Mirabelle. All the Craft learning she had ever done was from books, lessons, or things thrown together on the fly while trying to save her home. She probably couldn’t do this.

But she was going to try.

Changing limbs was a very common use of Body Craft, since most Changes people went through involved at least some alterations to height or build. Of course all of the books on Crafting yourself came with really extensive guide sections on how to keep yourself within common human proportions while Changing. To make sure you didn’t end up unintentionally unsettling or have to get all your clothes custom made.

Which made it easy for Mirabelle, because all she needed to do was… not follow those parts.

After making very sure that everyone else was out in town she had locked herself in her room’s bathroom and stripped off everything above her waist, this next part might tear her clothes. 

Taking one last look in the mirror she took a long steadying breath and closed her eyes. Slowly beginning to work Craft into the right side of her body. She raised her left hand and formed it into a Paper sign, not really needed when doing Craft this slowly but useful to help her focus. 

An arm. That was the goal. A long, furry, monstrous arm tipped in claws and really strong and scary. That was what she wanted. She imagined her own arm warping and twisting into shape and felt her heart speed up at the thrill of the idea. At the same time she didn’t just let the Body Craft slowly work like normal, she held all the changes she wanted in mind at once and continually fed them into the Craft, forcing it to do them all at once and then continually reinforce the changes.

This, plus using Creative Craft to weave a sort of flexible scaffold for the Body Craft and using Protective Craft (which she had been practicing) to save an imprint of her current body underneath it all, was her current idea for how to make the transformation quick and temporary. She wasn’t sure it would work, she wasn’t even confident, but she had run through the Craft formulas and not found any reason it wouldn’t work. So, maybe a ten percent chance?

Quickly, really quickly, she was finished. The Craft felt like it had taken the form that was in her head. She counted to five and took a few more deep breaths–then counted to five a few more times–before she finally opened her eyes and looked.

To her right, just where it normally was, was her arm. Completely normal, not a hair out of place.

Oh, well, that was anticlimactic. How had that even happened? She had felt the Craft working, it should have done something. She–

Past her right arm, something twitched.

She craned her head and–

There– there was another arm, extending out from her shoulder blade. 

Twice as long as her normal arm, thin and gangly. Sparking with Craft energy and tipped with a vicious four-clawed hand.

It twitched and she felt it.

…

Ha…

Ha ha…

She– she had missed her arm with the Craft! She had directed it toward her side but in the wrong place so it had just grown out of her!

Maybe not the best idea to do it with her eyes closed?!

W–wow, why was her vision swimming so much?

Suddenly feeling lightheaded she leaned forward on the counter, almost stumbling as she reflexively brought her new arm around to brace her. Gasping, she felt the cool countertop on its new skin. 

She stared at the limb curling across the sink in front of her.  Wow it was… beautiful!

Carefully she moved her other two hands to inspect it. Its skin was translucent, with dimly twinkling lights of Craft glowing within the otherwise lightless void that seemed to be within, but you could only see the skin on its underside. Most of it was covered in a thick pelt of fur just a shade lighter than her hair and so soft!

The fingers were gnarled and bestial, and the claws! Terrifying talons each at least four inches long. She gingerly ran her fingers down their edges, they weren’t crazy sharp but they felt sturdy and as she poked at them she involuntarily flexed her new arm. It pushed her other hands back with no resistance, so strong!

That had actually been another thing she had hoped her new technique would solve, making yourself stronger with Body Craft was actually kind of hard! You could give yourself bigger muscles but if you wanted to tone and train them even the latest methods could only help speed up the process. You still needed to exercise, something that Isabeau had complained about a few times. It was hard out there for people who wanted to be swole!

She had hoped that by making the transformation an ongoing Craft she would be able to use that to enhance its strength without needing to rely on muscles. Which had worked!...

Wait…Wait! The strength, the extra mass, the fact that she had formed a new arm instead of transforming her old one! Her idea had actually worked!?! She had replicated the Wish granted transformations!?

She spread all of her arms and looked at herself in the mirror. Change, she looked…well, she mostly just looked like Mirabelle, but that arm was scary and very monster-y looking! She couldn’t stop grinning! She hadn’t meant to make another arm, but it was so much better this way! It changed her silhouette, made her look more like something pretending to be human.

The arm was strange, grotesque, so obviously out of place. But for a moment as she stared into the mirror it looked right. For a moment it was everything that was normal human Mirabelle that looked wrong. 

She looked at herself in the mirror for a long time, then got to work Crafting.

People, generally, kept themselves looking human when they Changed.

Which, was, obvious! She always felt stupid thinking about that. Yeah Mirabelle, humans try to look like humans. Any time she had tried to talk about why that stuck out to her she had just made a fool of herself. 

People Changed all sorts of things, their body shape, their styles, their sex, their pronouns, their names, everything! And that was wonderful! She loved that about the Change Faith!

But sometimes when she opened a book on Body Craft she would just sit there and stare at all of the warnings and ‘do-nots’ that filled the books. Sometimes it seemed like there were more of them than there were pages on how to actually do the Craft!

And part of it was that you could hurt yourself doing Body Craft. It wasn't that dangerous despite what some people thought. Apparently Ka Bue had a bunch of legends about people messing up Body Craft and being stuck in horrible, painful bodies? Which was silly! You could always just reverse the Craft, and besides you would never be doing it wholly alone, that is why people went to the Houses for help!

But sure, some warnings so you didn’t get hurt made sense.

A lot of the warnings though were there because you could do anything with Body Craft, Change yourself however you could imagine! And so you had entire chapters on sticking close to human limits, making sure you didn’t do anything crazy. And basically everyone did stick to those warnings, generally you couldn’t really tell if someone had Changed before or not, because they could have just been born that way. And that was great! It made people feel really comfortable and accepted!

But…

Sometime, late at night, Mirabelle would stare at all those warnings and guidelines and feel this hollow feeling in her gut. Something bordering on hopelessness.

Was…was this all there was?

People Changed so much, so often, but it was all just…shuffling around the same deck of cards. Grab this hairstyle, grab this height, grab this name, these shades, these proportions, this voice or that voice, add a couple extras like needing glasses or some cool scars, pick a new style of dress, and there you had it, a new you. 

The most ‘out there’ Change she had ever seen was the Head Housem– Euphrasie, the pinnacle of the change belief in Mirabelle’s eyes. A person who understood how to Change on a level that Mirabelle would never reach. She had used her mastery of Craft to make herself…pretty tall!

Like, a bit taller than was probably naturally possible, by a head or so. 

Yay?

And these thoughts were terrible! Mirabelle knew that! Sure, Isabeau looked like a person–and why would that be a problem?–but that didn’t mean he hadn’t put a bunch of thought into his Change! He had reinvented himself in his entirety, creating a whole new persona and identity he wanted to live. Every part of his Change had fed into that, it was an incredible achievement!

An achievement Mirabelle had never done herself… Might never do.

Euphrasie had, with just her style and a bit of extra height, created a presence of peace and understanding that had been the foundation of her House. She had made herself a person who bettered every room just by entering it. Mirabelle was lucky to have ever had the chance to know her.

And–

And yet…

The thoughts still came. Leaving her staring at the ceiling and thinking back through all of the faith’s teachings. Suddenly feeling like they were all so– so shallow. 

Were these really the limits of Change?

Was this all people could do?

Be born into a normal body, shuffle yourself around a few times into other normal bodies, use a few different names, get bonded–because that was ever so important apparently–then die.

She was so happy that people could Change, that they could become versions of themselves that made them happy and comfortable. She would be proud if she could spend the rest of her life helping people do that. She loved her faith, deeply and truly.

And still she wondered.

Was the Change God disappointed? That this was the extent of their will to Change?

Had they hoped for more? 

Mirabelle Crafted like she never had Crafted before.

Another monstrous extra arm on her other side to match the first. Then changing her ‘normal’ arms into smaller, more dexterous versions. She spent some time figuring out just how long she could make her claws without them being unwieldy. There was no making them retractable anymore, no hiding any of this.

Going this far hadn’t been the plan, she hadn’t really even thought about what her next step would be. But she couldn’t stop now she–

No, she could stop, she just didn’t want to! This was the most fun she had had Crafting in a long time! Maybe since the King appeared! And it was all coming so easily, each idea flowing into the next.

She coated her body in thick double-layered fur, stripping completely as she shifted her feet into horrifying talons and swelled her legs with Craft enhanced muscle. Her teeth turned to the horrible fangs again, complete with a long forked tongue–no, two long tongues!–and her eyes became slitted and wild. When she looked in the mirror her hair was almost the only recognizable thing left. Oh! And her bow! 

Honestly that probably should have looked weird but she still really liked it. Monsters could be cute too!

She had gone so far and there was still more she wanted to try! She would need to figure out how tails worked, learn how to make her legs digitigrade, maybe walking on all fours? Well, all sixes. Ooo, or eights? She could probably figure out how to add legs! 

Also! She had obviously kind of started with the idea of a werewolf–though now she was even cooler with the four arms–but there were so many other types of monsters! How would scales feel? Oh! Or chitin! Could she give herself spider legs? Bat wings? Exposed bone? Asymmetrical or twisted on herself? Wow! She never realized she wanted a scorpion tail but she sure did now!

Images of all of her favorite monsters spun around her head as she put the final details on her work. As she stretched and heard new joints pop she stared into the mirror and saw something that could match any of them. A horror story in real flesh and bone. Her flesh and bone.

Feeling in a daze she stumbled out of the bathroom, looking around a bedroom that suddenly looked too small to her taller frame. Starting carefully she started to move and feel her new form. 

It…felt amazing! She danced across the room, making up for her awkwardness with the easy strength in her limbs. A single loping stride almost slammed her into the opposite wall and she could only laugh! There was something so thrilling in feeling her joints bend in foreign ways, something that told her that what she had made was beautiful!

As she laughed and giggled the familiar sounds came out mixed with strange purrs and half formed growls as she tried to use her warped vocal cords, which only made her laugh louder! Wow! That sounded! Really silly! 

So silly she almost missed the sound of someone knocking on the room’s door. 

She froze, no, she had made sure everyone else wouldn’t be back for hours!

“Hello?” A voice called out, older and masculine, it took her a moment to recognize it as the innkeeper, “Uh, miss Savior? Everything alright in there? I heard something, and I thought you all had headed out earlier. Just wanted to check.”

She breathed a rumbling sigh of relief, not one of her family. She wasn’t sure she could talk like this without it sounding weird, but the innkeeper wouldn’t come in without reason. She just needed to be a bit more quiet. She slowly backed away from the door–

–and one of her arms she hadn’t been minding knocked a vase of flowers off of the dresser. The noise of it shattering against the wood floor seemed like the loudest thing she had ever heard. 

There was a gasp from the other side of the door, “Oh Change! That crabbing badger got in through the window again!” Then the sound of someone fiddling with a set of keys as the doorknob began to shake, “Well not this time you varmint! I got the Saviors staying here and I am not letting you chew on all their clothes! I will get you this time I swear!”

Mirabelle’s horror stories had nothing on this. Change! Why now! She looked frantically around the room, her voice feeling paralyzed all she could think of was escape. She couldn’t just hide in the bathroom, what if he looked there!? The room was on the second floor however, and the only way out was the window that looked out towards the woods behind the inn.

Scrambling over she reached towards the window with one of her smaller arms, maybe she could open it and slip out? Maybe it would be alright?

Unfortunately, she had never handled panic particularly well. 

There was a sharp cracking sound as she misjudged the length of her arm and put her entire hand through the pane of glass. She hissed and pulled her arm back, expecting long bloody scratches only to see nothing. It hadn’t even nicked her skin.

…How strong was she?

Then there was the click of a lock and the door swung open. With a sinking feeling she turned to stare back at the innkeeper who stood frozen in the doorway, his expression of horror matching what she felt at that moment.

Plus side, a small part of her noted, while she was technically naked all the fur meant there was no way he could see anything. Not under…all of the monster parts… 

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then he began to scream, a high pitched wail of utter terror as he saw something that he could never have imagined.

And Mirabelle. Simple decided. She was going to leave this situation. Now.

She turned and backhanded the window with one of her extra arms. The sharp glass shards chipped and broke on the arm’s Craft enhanced skin without so much as a scratch as the window gave way. 

And so did its frame.

And so did most of the wall around it.

Oh Change…

Groaning in shame she leaned forward and leaped. The boards under her feet splintered as she threw herself out into open air and into the cover of the trees.

How was she going to explain this?

Chapter Text

Odile looked around the mess of a room, trying to put her finger on what was wrong with the scene.

Well, besides the obvious.

Out in the hallway she could hear Isabeau questioning the distraught innkeeper. She doubted he would be of much use, the man was beside himself after what he had seen. At least he seemed more worried by Mirabelle's disappearance than the damage to his inn’s room, to his credit.

She couldn’t blame him. A monster, a true monster, something with more arms and bigger claws than any normal animal, seeming to appear right inside his business must have been a shock. Odile had thought that he must have been mistaken, surely it had been a large dog or a lightless bear, but…

She ran a hand carefully over the jagged edge of the hole in the wall. It was as tall and as wide as her, easily, and yet apparently it had been barely big enough for the creature to escape. This…was no animal. Craft could cause such damage, not mundane muscle. 

They had sent Bonnie to prepare something comforting for the man, and Siffrin was outside trying to track the ‘monster’, leaving her to examine Mirabelle's room. The housemaiden’s absence gnawed at the back of her mind, urging her to hurry, but nothing would be served by being sloppy.

The bathroom door hung open and she stepped over to it, a pit in her stomach as she imagined finding bloodstains within, or even a crumpled body. 

Fortunately there was nothing, or, well, not quite nothing. A set of Mirabelle’s clothes were neatly piled on the floor near the wall, had she been showering? No, there were no puddles or water in the shower. Then what–?

She spotted it, a notebook. It sat on the edge of the sink, festooned with bookmarks of all different shades and laying open to a page full of…Craft formula? Odile picked it up and glanced through the most recent pages.

It was hard to make sense of, Vaugarde used different symbols and structures for formulas than Ka Bue, but this was obviously very advanced work. Body Craft, as far as she could tell, though with additions and steps she had never seen before. Perhaps two people in this town had enough pure Craft education to write theorems like these, and Odile was one of those two.

What was much easier to decipher were all the doodles, quick sketches of arms, claws, and eyes. Silhouettes that could never be mistaken for human. All done with the cheerful flourishes she associated with Mirabelle’s drawing style. 

Without looking up from the book she stepped over to the door and raised her hand to it, fingers tracing the claw marks near the handle before she had even looked to confirm they were there. She hardly needed to, she had read more than enough stories to piece this together. 

Wait.

Closing the book and tucking it into her pack she hurried back into the bedroom and stared at the hole in the wall. The hole that had been broken from the inside.

From inside a room that the innkeeper confirmed had been locked when he arrived. 

Until he had burst in and caught the monster.

No, not caught, startled. 

Frightened.

They had to move, now.

She had practically dragged Isabeau downstairs, leaving the innkeeper in Bonnie’s care. As they hurried out the back door Siffrin fell into step beside them, smooth and quiet. She shot him a questioning look and they nodded, “Found a trail.” His face scrunched up in confusion, “...Really obvious actually.”

She nodded back, unsurprised, “Not an animal?” She asked.

“Not an animal.” They confirmed. 

She let go of Isabeau and they fell into formation, Siffrin leading the way towards the forest edge.

“Ooookay. So.” Isabeau began, his voice barely betraying his nerves. “There is apparently a monster, and more importantly, Mira is missing. Ideas M’dame?”

Many, but none fully confirmed yet. Hedging her bets she said, “A ‘monster’ is a very unhelpful description. I wish we knew more, but the innkeeper wasn’t in any state to answer my questions, so we will have to make due.”

Siffrin looked at her, their concern obvious in their restless hands, “It has to be a sadness though, right? I mean, what else could it be?”

What else indeed… “A sadness would be most likely, yes,” she admitted, “but it would be strange for one to make their way into a building like that without causing alarm. As for what else it could be…”

This was delicate, she suspected that she knew exactly who the ‘monster’ was, but if she shared that theory it would destroy any chance that Siffrin or Isabeau would be willing to fight the creature. Which might be alright, but if Odile was wrong or if Mirabelle wasn’t in control of herself then that could be dangerous. 

Better to stick to facts for the moment, “There was no sign of blood, so Mirabelle was likely not harmed. That being said, there was something strange about how the room’s window was smashed…”

Isabeau shot her a questioning glance. In all the confusion he hadn’t had a chance to look over the room himself or she was sure he would have noticed. Him keeping an open mind would be very useful if she turned out to be wrong, so she just shook her head,  “Nothing, simply a theory, I will tell you if anything comes of it. For now we should find it.”

Siffrin tensed in front of her, hand going to their dagger, “If they hurt Mira–”

She cut that off right there, “We find it, we find answers, we do not hurt it until then.” She waited until she got two uneasy nods from them, then ushered them forward into the forest. 

It didn't take them long, the monster had left a very obvious trail of broken branches and destroyed undergrowth.

They advanced in formation, Siffrin at the front and Isabeau back by Odile's side, ready to defend her if something struck.

Mirabelle's absence was painfully obvious, a gaping hole in their normal arrangement and Odile couldn't help but feel the lack of their main healer. If anything happened she would need to react fast, if someone got badly hurt it might be too late.

After barely a few minutes the trail led them into a small clearing, trees tall enough around it to cast it into shadow. On the far side, sat at the edge of the treeline, was…a monster.

That was…no Sadness. The monster was unlike anything Odile had ever seen but it was unmistakably flesh and blood, and all the more horrifying for it.

It was hunched over on its larger pair of arms, huge claws digging into the earth. It had a smaller set as well, pulled in near its body and raking through the fur of its chest. Its whole form was lithe, but with a twisted strength to it that set her heart racing. It…almost shared some basic shapes with a human, somehow that made it even more unnerving.

Its face in particular was surprisingly elegant, a furred visage close to human but with a touch of canine or similar predator in how its mouth was elongated. It had a curly mane of lightless hair standing out against the lighter fur, and as it looked up at them its eyes—

Odile took an involuntary step back. Gems alive! She had never seen eyes like that, slitted and wild, more something from an illustration than a living animal.

As the monster caught sight of them it stiffened, slowly raising itself onto its hind legs as it stared, eyes locked on them with a gaze that threatened to turn her blood to ice. Its smaller arms came together in front of it, hands clutching at each other as it let out a low crooning call.

Odile found herself frozen, staring back at the creature. Her mind was far from blank with fear however, as her eyes kept darting over the beast, trying to take in everything. This…this shouldn't exist. But it did. And that suddenly felt like it opened up so many questions and possibilities.

Her fascination was only broken when Isabeau gently elbowed her in the side, "M'dame? Plan?"

Right, she shook herself, images of those eyes slow to clear from her mind. Whatever this monster was it certainly was dangerous, that could be read in every line of its body.

"Defend yourself," She instructed, "but try not to hurt it."

Searching the area around the beast, she noted what gaps in the trees were wide enough for it to escape. "I will form Craft barriers behind it. Isabeau, if you can drive it back into them I can trap it. Siffrin, prepare to respond if it attacks."

The nodded at her and began to spread out, but their preparations were interrupted by the monster.

The beast opened its jaws, teeth from a nightmare parting and letting loose a horrible oscillating growl. A howl that sounded almost pained for how distorted and unnatural it was. It almost seemed to shock the beast itself. It froze, clawed hands coming up to feel at its throat.

Had it been…trying to talk?

The terrifying sound, followed by the beast's distraction, seemed to be signal enough for Isabeau. He tensed, and she could tell he was about to charge. The beast seemed to notice as well, eyes locking onto him and widening, but it made no move to defend itself.

Which added to the notes Odile had compiling in her head.

As during all of this she had been mulling over her theory.

Was this monster…Mirabelle?

And, if it was, did she have control over herself?

Current Evidence:

• Mirabelle had been experimenting with advanced Body Craft

• There was no sign of blood or a struggle in the room

• There was no sign of how the monster had gotten into Mirabelle's room

• In moving through the woods, the monster had shown none of the stealth expected of a wild animal

• The monster had shown no sign of aggression or violence towards anyone

• The monster showed a distinct reaction to seeing them, and may be trying to communicate

• The monster gave no indication of wanting to fight them

Taken together…it was compelling. Perhaps still a stretch, the Craft needed to do something like this simply didn't exist after all, but Odile's instincts were telling her she had her answer.

She needed just one more confirmation. 

The beast shifted, backing away from them and– there!

On its– on her head, wrapped around her neck, was a darkless bow. Standing out starkly against the dark fur. An entirely impossible thing for the monster to have on, unless…

Odile’s hand snapped up and as Isabeau lunged forward she formed a Craft barrier, not behind the monster as planned, but directly in front of the fighter. He made a–slightly comical–’oof!’ of surprise as he bounced backwards off of it and the monster took the opportunity to charge–

–away from them, disappearing into the dense forest with a rush of snapping branches. 

Odile relaxed back, snapping her book closed as she processed this confirmation. Mirabelle…what a little wonder their Housemaiden was. 

Isabeau staggered to his feet, staring off after the monster. Then he turned and shot her a tense look. “Okay so, uh, that wasn’t the plan.”

Honestly she was impressed that his tone only edged on annoyance. She inclined her head, “Indeed, I apologize Isabeau. Seeing that beast in person confirmed a theory and made me realize our plan…” she paused, considering that grim possibility, “would have been a terrible idea. I had to act fast.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked back towards where the monster had been, squinting his eyes as if he was trying to see anything he might have missed.

Isabeau was, as they were all becoming increasingly aware, shatteringly intelligent. But he hadn’t taken a close look inside the room, hadn’t seen the notes. He was operating with incomplete information. So after a moment he shook his head and looked back at her, “Madam! Mira’s still missing, we need to get that thing fast. We can’t wait for–”

“Isabeau,” she cut him off, her voice stern and sharp, “you have trusted me with your life before.” He stilled in an instant, brought up short by her intensity, “With more than your life, to be honest. Will that stop now?”

He grimaced, looking deeply uncomfortable. “No…Obviously not m’dame, but…” He blinked, then narrowed his eyes at her. After a moment he smiled, much of the tension leaving his body as he asked,  “You know that that thing is. Don’t you?”

She gave a small smile back, “I do. Consider it an area of my research.” Close enough to the truth, she certainly had studied Body Craft before, and she was going to have so many questions for Mirabelle at the end of this. Her head was practically swimming in the implications. 

But that would have to wait, she turned towards her compatriots, now entirely unconcerned about the ‘monster’ coming back. “We do not have time to go into details, speed is vital here, but I assure you, Mirabelle is almost certainly safe and well.”

Both of them relaxed at that and Odile herself felt a similar tension leaving her. Whatever had happened, Mirabelle seemed to be well. If not exactly…normal. 

In truth, there was very little reason not to tell Isabeau and Siffrin her theory right then. Certainly she wasn’t sure, but she was close enough to be confident. It was best to move fast, Mirabelle was likely rather upset, but…

She stifled a smile, now knowing what was happening she suddenly found an edge of humor to this whole situation. Not her proudest impulse perhaps, but she found herself wanting to see how this would play out. Mirabelle did love her horror stories, and had gone so far as to gift one to all of them. Odile would feel terribly rude spoiling the ending now.

Siffrin shifted, eye searching the forest shadows. “What do we do?”

That rather depended on what Mirabelle did, and if Odile had to guess…Ah, that would work, it even fit pleasingly into the tropes of a horror story. How satisfying. 

Nodding, she declared, “We split up.” 

Isabeau raised an eyebrow and said, “Always the best thing to do when there is a monster around.” He glanced around at the trees, but wonderfully did not object to her plan further. 

Odile smirked, “I am glad you think so Isabeau, because you will be heading directly into the deeper forest.”

“M’dame!?”

She waved him off, “Hush, you are durable, yell if anything tries to kill you. Siffrin, head east following the forest’s edge. I will head west. Twenty minutes then we meet up back here.”

She raised her hand, giving stern instructions, “Find the monster, do not attack it. Keep track of it and signal for the rest of us with Craft.”

They nodded and moved to obey. Always so instantly trusting, it warmed her heart and she swore to ensure it was well founded. 

Turning to her own direction she started quietly moving through the trees, she had her own twist in the plan to enact after all.

Oh Change.

Oh Change, oh Change oh Change!

Crabs. Crabbing crabs. By however many Expressions there were and by the blinding, shining, shattering stars and living gems and everything else Mirabelle had ever heard her family swear by. 

This was a mess!

There was the property damage, the terrified innkeeper, the fleeing into the forest!

And then there was her own family tracking her, probably assuming she was a monster!

…Which, okay, she was at the moment. But not– not in that way. In the ‘they probably thought she had eaten herself– or well, eaten Mirabelle’ way. Which was a whole new kind of awkward.

She had been relieved, incredibly embarrassed but relieved when she had first seen them. She would just go to them, explain things–somehow–then they would help her sort everything out. She wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to look them in the eyes again, but it would all work out.

And…she had forgotten the current state of her vocal cords! Which, as it turned out, weren’t great for normal human speech!!

She almost got punched by Isabeau, that— that was definitely a low point, and then had to flee further into the forest.

Hiding up a tree she scrambled, pawing at her throat as she worked her Craft. It was a little tricky, she had to readjust her vocal cords back to normal while still making them fit her current throat, but nothing too difficult. Once she was finished she tried a few sample words and found that…it mostly worked? Sounded a bit scary, which normally she would like, but it should be understandable.

It would probably be a lot easier if she got rid of one of her two tongues, those kept throwing her off. But…she wasn't doing that.

As she sat there, testing her speech, she heard something. Someone calling out from somewhere nearby! She froze, glancing around as she tried to pinpoint who it was. Finally hearing the call again, closer.

“Mira? Where are you? Are you alright?”

Siffrin!

She moved around the branches of the tree, spotting Siffrin a little ways off through the forest. Their darkless cloak standing out against the trees. They seemed to be alone, looking around as they carefully made their way through the undergrowth.

They must have split up. That— that was nice. It would be less overwhelming to explain this to one person at a time.

She could go find one of the others, but…

She wanted to talk to Siffrin, badly.

The rogue was wandering along a game trail in her vague direction. Shifting over to the next tree, her long arms making easy work of the climbing, she settled right over the path just as his quiet footsteps passed below. They must have heard something as they paused, tilting their head and looking around at the forest.

She reached down with one of her long extra arms, silently curling it up right behind Siffrin. It was straight out of a horror novel, but anything else would require her to figure out words, and she was far too overwhelmed for that, so she hoped Siffrin would forgive her this.

Hooking the back of Siffrin’s cloak with a single claw she smoothly hoisted him up into the tree. He yelped and scrambled for his dagger, but the claw had hooked on his shirt and pulled his arms up as he was lifted and they were only able to wiggle in her grip as she turned them to face her. 

Their eye widened and they stilled in a sudden rush of panic as she loomed out of the darkness in front of them. The moment dragging out as she tried to think of what to say, how to explain any of this.

Eventually she parted her huge, dripping fangs to murmur, “Um, emergency feelings buddies meeting. Please.”

After she sat Siffrin down on a large branch she settled down across from them, lightly chewing on her own claws as she tried to think of how to begin. Should she start with wanting to learn about Body Craft? It felt like the more simple a place she started from the more insane the end point would feel. Plenty of people learned Body Craft, no one— no one did this.

“…Mira?” Siffrin ventured, then after a moment, “Nails.”

“Oh!” She glanced down at her claws which were starting to get marks from her fangs, right, bad habit. She pulled her hands away from her mouth and after a moment of figuring out how to fold all of them, set them primly in her lap. She smiled at him thankfully, though she doubted it looked particularly comforting.

Siffrin was staring at her. Which! Was fair! She fidgeted, trying to figure out what to say, then quietly began, “So…ah, sorry about all of this! There is an explanation I swear! I just… don’t really know how to say it.”

“You…are a werewolf?” Her head shot up in shock and Siffrin quickly waved his hands and clarified, “I mean, that is fine! I promise! Just surprised!”

“No! I am not!” She blinked, then glanced around at her furry limbs, “Um, I mean, not normally.”

"Not normally?"

She waved a hand at herself, "This isn't a curse or anything like that, I Crafted myself to look like this."

“That’s Body Craft?” Siffrin tilted his head, rightfully confused, “I didn’t know it could do that.”

“It…can’t." She admitted, "Not— not until now I guess. It—it's a long story."

"I—" She opened her mouth, but couldn't find the words. "I—"

Change, where to begin? Her interest in monsters? The memories of the King that just wouldn't leave her? Her thoughts on the limits of the Change faith? All had driven her, but they all felt so tangential.

Without even noticing she found herself speaking, curling over on the branch and squeezing her eyes shut as she murmured, "I just wanted to not be Mirabelle for a bit."

She froze, mouth half open, that was a terrible thing to say! She wanted to take it back…but she couldn't. Her lips wouldn't form the words.

Siffrin blinked, looking more panicked than he had when she had grabbed them, "I, uh, really like Mirabelle!"

Her head jerked upwards, suddenly frantic to explain, "So do I! That's the thing!"

She waved a long, inhuman arm, "I don't want to Change, I don't want to be somebody else! I like being me, I love being family with all of you!"

She faltered, "But…with everything, the King, the celebrations, all the people, talking…"

Her two left arms came to clutch at her head, "It's a lot. And I shouldn't complain but…I just— I just…"

She trailed off into silence, just sitting there with Siffrin staring at her. That hadn't made any sense! Why hadn't she started with the 'liking monsters' part? That would be so much easier to explain! What was she even going on about—?!

"It be so much easier, wouldn't it?"

She raised her head as Siffrin spoke and found he wasn't staring at her. His eye was fixed off into the forest canopy overhead as he continued, "Cause there's all this stuff you have to do, and say, and be, and it all gets so heavy and you have to carry it around all the time!"

They looked back at her and there was a bone-deep tiredness in their eye, something she felt she understood in an instant. "And you can't stop because it is all important and it matters to a bunch of people you love, and a lot of it is stuff you do want to do but…Stars, does it have to be constant?"

Siffrin's expression slipped past tired and into something worse, they closed their eye and whispered so quietly Mirabelle could barely hear them, "Over and over and over again…"

They held there for a long moment, and Mirabelle was beginning to shift forward, ready to reach out towards them when Siffrin blinked, composed himself, and continued, "So you think it would be so nice to just, not for a bit. Just hang it all up like a coat and leave it there so you can pick it up later and walk away and be someone else. Cause then you wouldn't be failing and you wouldn't be hurting anyone because those things you were doing are someone else's stuff and you aren't them right now."

She was leaning forward towards them, feeling like every word was pulling her forward. She grinned so hard her jaw ached and her fangs poked at her, "Yes!" She exclaimed, "Yes! And it's different than Changing! Because… because—"

As her words failed her again Siffrin picked up where she left off, "Because Changing wouldn't actually help." He tilted his head, getting that adorable confused expression they often got when Changing and the Change faith got brought up, "I mean, I guess you could change your name or pronouns or whatever, but that isn't the problem. That stuff would all still be there, you'd be a different person but you would still have to carry it, or something just like it."

They paused, furrowing their brow as they thought, "It's like— it's like…" Sudden they smiled, "It's like you have a backpack!"

Somehow sensing her confusion he hurried to explain, arms waving with excited energy at their new metaphor, "You have this pack, okay? And it is really heavy. So you complain and someone says you could go to the store and get a new pack instead if this one hurts so much."

"But you don't want that! You really love this pack! And besides, it's heavy because it's filled with all this stuff you need, like camping supplies and things, or stuff you really love like gifts and carvings! So even if you got a new pack, you would still need to put all the same stuff inside it, and it would be just as heavy!"

They sighed, looking wistfully at her, "When what you really want is to be able to just put the pack down for a bit and go run around or nap in the grass. And sure you can't leave it, cause you do need to get going eventually and you can't travel without your pack, but it be so nice not to have to carry it for a bit."

Mirabelle hugged them. She wrapped her smaller pair of arms around Siffrin and pulled them off their branch and into her embrace while her other arms held them suspended in the tree. Siffrin squeaked, tensing in her hold as she pressed her head to the side of theirs and made a low, rumbling, coo from deep in her Crafted form.

She didn't know she could make that sound, but she was so glad her Craft had known she needed to be able to, because it was exactly perfect right then. Expressive in a way no human noise could be.

Siffrin flailed for a moment, trying to figure out how to hug her back, then just threw their arms around her neck and squeezed. The rest of their body melting in contentment against her. "Soft." They murmured into her fur.

Slowly Mirabelle lowered the two of them to the ground. Kneeling on the dirt and moss as she wrapped her other arms around Siffrin. She had extra arms! To hug Siffrin with! Why had she not considered this obvious use of additional limbs! It was amazing!

There was something warm and bubbly in her chest after Siffrin's words. They understood! Even Mirabelle herself hadn't really understood, but Siffrin had! What a feeling! To be known so well!

It also meant Siffrin had felt the same, probably for even longer, which made her hug them all the harder. Holding back just enough not to crush them.

"Siffrin…" She murmured, "Thank you."

They said something soft that she couldn't make out with their face pressed into her fur. Pursing her lips to hold back a smile she continued, "A backpack metaphor though?"

She felt them laugh against her, pulling back they grinned and said, "Hey! It was a good metaphor!"

"It was…" She shifted so she could meet their eye, "But its the third camping supplies metaphor you've done this week!

He squawked in affront. "I travel! It's about all I remember! What else am I supposed to use!"

Their gazes locked for several seconds before they both broke. She fell forward, curled over Siffrin as they both lapsed into helpless giggles. His, um, human sounding ones mixing strangely with the chuffing half-growls her body seemed to want to make, which only made her laugh harder.

"The Traveler!" She managed to say between giggle fits, "Of course, you're the Traveler! You travel! Travel puns, travel metaphors, travel stories!"

"Y—you turned into a monster!" Siffrin was trying to hold in their laughter so hard they were making a hissing noise like a cat, "And I am playing to type?! Which of us are you going to kidnap? Do you already have a castle picked out? Who's the brave hero that will rescue us from your e—evil clutches?"

"I'll just take all of you, Bonnie can do the rescue!"

"We'll end up late for dinner and then you won't stand a chance! You'll be halfway through looming out of the mist and monologuing, then Wham! Frying pan!"

She slammed her fist into the ground at the mental image, leaving indents in the forest floor as all of her tension poured out into laughter and tears.

They continued, teasing and joking until their laughter slowly quieted into contented quiet. She basked in their presence, her form not mattering in the slightest for how well they fit together.

It felt…so nice.

"Well this is adorable."

She jerked upright at the voice, dragging Siffrin with her clutched to her front. Standing barely fifteen feet away Odile stood with one hand against the trunk of an old tree, smiling fondly at them with a book held loosely in her other hand.

"Madame! It's me! I'm—"

"Mirabelle, yes I am aware." Odile stepped forward, smile slipping away into concern, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," She looked down, flushing under her fur, "a bit, uh, embarrassed…"

Siffrin wiggled against her, she loosened her grip enough to let him turn around—then hugged them tight again, this was nice—so they could see Odile. "Odile? I thought you went the other way?"

Absently Odile nodded, "I split off yes, then immediately turned around and followed you." She focused back on Mirabelle, "I have questions, as many as you are comfortable answering right now."

Odile's questions were interrupted as Siffrin asked, "Why?"

"Because I surmised that Mirabelle would be more comfortable approaching one of us rather than having the whole group crowd her." Odile explained, "This way I knew where she would go."

Mirabelle screwed her eyes closed and bowed her head, "Thank you! That really helped!"

"No, I mean—" Siffrin slipped one hand out of her grip and gestured around, "Why follow me? She could have gone to talk to Isabeau."

Odile sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing at her eyes, "Gems alive, of course she was going to you first, Siffrin." She glared at Siffrin, showing that—secretly cute—annoyance she always had when forced to admit to being sentimental, "You're the one that any of us would go to in similar circumstances, should we need comfort. It was not a difficult guess."

Oh! Siffrin was blushing! A lot! They buried their face in Mirabelle arm as she cooed down at them. So cute!

Odile took a moment to smile at the sight before stepping forward, raising the book she was holding— Oh! That was Mirabelle's Craft notebook! "I found this," Odile said, "so I believe I have the basics. This is Craft work, yes?"

Mirabelle nodded and Odile hummed, “You are aware, I hope, that the use of Body Craft this extensive is extremely impressive?” She glanced over Mirabelle's form, “Impossible, actually.”

"I, uh, figured it out?" Mirabelle cringed at Odile's unimpressed look, "Not from nothing! I based it, um, off of the King." She was not going to mention Bigfrin right then, that…that was a whole thing she wasn't sure Siffrin wanted to be reminded of.

"Ah yes," Odile deadpanned, "you merely replicated an entirely unknown form of Body Craft based on having seen it once. My apologies for being impressed."

Mirabelle opened her mouth to object, then closed it, much to Odile obvious amusement.

Odile tapped on the notebook, looking between it and Mirabelle, then sighed, "I am going to say something," she began, "trusting in you to not take it the wrong way." She gestured the book at Mirabelle's body, "Regardless of the technique, you have done remarkable work on your body."

Mirabelle smiled, what wrong way could there possibly be to take that? Monster designs were meant to be admired! "Thank you! I am so happy with it!" She gave a spin, still holding Siffrin. "There was so much to consider, and I was working so fast, but it came together so well! It has felt amazing moving through the trees!"

"Balancing style and functionality. Terror and appeal." Odile nodded, "Difficult in drawings, I can only imagine when working in flesh and bone. Yet you managed. I can see the rough edges, but this is truly beautiful artistry."

Why did all her family understand her so well? Why was she so lucky?! Mirabelle hopped in place, excited energy too great to remain still. "It was really fun! I had to figure out claws, and fangs, and fur and extra arms—that was actually an accident at first—I have always loved the idea of this, but I thought it was impossible! But then I saw the King and—"

Odile cut her off, "Feathers?"

Mirabelle paused in surprise at the idea and Odile continued, a strange intensity in her eyes, "Does this innovation allow for the creation of feathers? Wings?"

Mirabelle tilted her head in thought, "Maybe? I haven't tried. But! That would be amazing! They could be so soft and have beautiful shades and…"

She paused, looking back at Odile and slowly starting to smile, "Madame…why do you want to know? Are you? Maybe? Interested??"

Odile scoffed, "I've studied Craft most of my life and read horror stories even longer, of course I am interested." Then she hesitated, looking away as a flash of vulnerability touched her expression. "And…you are not the only one with dreams long deemed impossible."

Mirabelle gasping, feeling the same grateful awe she always felt when Odile sharing something about herself. In her arms Siffrin shifted and murmured, "…book club."

They both looked down at him, causing them to immediately blush and hesitate. At a raised eyebrow from Odile they said, "It's, um, I don't think spoilers?"

Sharing a look with Mirabelle, Odile gestured for Siffrin to continue, and after a moment to collect their thoughts they explained, "In the loops, in the House, we found a book. A bunch of horror stories. You were both interested and Odile said that, maybe, you two should make a book club?"

Odile rewarded them with a warm smile, "An excellent idea from a woman I will never know." Glancing up at Mirabelle she noted, "We may have to see that idea through." She raised the notebook, "With a bit more Craft to accompany the readings."

"Yes!" Mirabelle clapped her non-Siffrin-holding hands together, "That would be so fun!"

Then she paused, the reality of the current situation coming back to her, "Oh, um, first we need to find Isabeau…and deal with the, um, mess I made."

Siffrin, who had fully accepted his fate as a teddy bear, laughed softly, "I have an idea!"

Isabeau crept through the dense forest, looking for a monster.

Or Mira, actually he would prefer Mira.

He was a little nervous, that was natural. Sure, they had faced plenty of Sadnesses, so he wasn't that worried, but what they had seen back in the clearing….

That was something different.

He was keeping Protective Craft infused in his skin, prepared to repel a surprise attack, but he really hoped it wouldn't come to that. He trusted Odile knew how to handle whatever this was, but not knowing was still getting to him.

Suddenly, movement in the bushes.

He barely had time to turn and brace himself before Siffrin burst out of the foliage, sprinting towards him. Isabeau hesitated in surprise, then watched as Siffrin ran past him without even slowing, only looking back to yell over their shoulder,

“Monsterbelle!”

Isabeau stared after them as they disappeared once more into the forest. "Sif?!" They called, trying to make sense of what they had yelled. Suddenly another voice called from behind him.

“Isabeau!”

He spun around, once more shocked to see Odile rushing out of bushes from the same direction, running as fast as she could.

"M'dame!?" He called as she reached him, "What is—?"

She ran past him in the same direction as Siffrin, cutting off his question with a snarled, “Run for your crabbing life you fool!”

He had a few seconds to process that as she ran off, just long enough that he had started to move to obey, when the sounds of something much bigger moving through the trees came from behind him.

He turned as something else entered the clearing at speed.

And Isabeau screamed.

"I," Isabeau announced with appropriate pomp, "hate all of you."

Odile, who was leaning on a tree for support but still had a—in Mirabelle's opinion—well earned smirk on her face, laughed in between her ragged breaths and said, "Categorically untrue. Unfortunately for you we are far too lovable."

"I mean yeah!" Isabeau whined from where he hung, held up by Mirabelle two largest arms as she proudly presented her catch to the other two, "You're right! But wow! M'dame!"

"Come on Isa!" Siffrin managed amidst their laughter, "We should fangs her for playing along!"

Isabeau seemed determined to maintain his pout, but Mirabelle saw his lips twitch.

"Plus I'm still your beast friend, right?"

Isabeau was struggling, head bowed as he tried to resist the call of the puns.

"And how can you be mad at Monsterbelle?"

"Monsterbelle…" Isabeau squeaked out, before breaking into full belly laughs.

Giggling herself, Mirabelle stepped over and carefully set Isabeau down on a lop next to Siffrin before carefully settling herself down on the forest floor.

They had, of course, quickly explained everything to Isabeau after their little surprise. He had been most concerned that he might have punched Mirabelle, and had relaxed when she mentioned that she had had a Craft barrier up, just in case. Then it had all turned to delightful teasing and jokes as the adrenaline died down.

After a bit more back-and-forth, Isabeau turned to her, "So! Everything aside, is there any help you need to turn back?"

She blinked at him, "Oh!…I can turn back anytime!"

He looked confused for a moment before grimacing and clapping his hands together, "Crab, right, you're naked."

"Um!" Mirabelle's eyes widened, "I would be if I turned back. But! I don't think! I am now?!"

Fur counted as clothes, right? It had to! Otherwise this all would be so embarrassing!

Odile chuckled at her distress, waggling the notebook at Isabeau, "Don't scandalize the woman, Isabeau, for shame."

"Right! Big scary monsters have soft little hearts, I'm sorry." Isabeau's grin faded into a contemplative look, "Might be able to make something to help with that, the clothes thing, for next time."

She looked at him in surprise, "Next time?"

"Yeah!" He nodded, "I mean, you're doing this again right? You said you liked it, so I assume the experiment was a success?"

"I broke a hole in the inn!"

He waved her off, "Ah, whatever, we can patch that up easy. Craft makes for short work, I can handle it by dinner."

Odile smirked, "The innkeeper was honored to have us staying, I am sure as soon as he knows you have been 'rescued' he will be happy to put this behind us." She tapped on the notebook, "His fault, honestly, if you can't practice strange new forms of Craft in your room in peace then what is even the point?"

Isabeau noticed her tensing at the mention of the innkeeper and smiled, gently reassuring her, "We don't need to tell him anything, Mira, just another incident with a Sadness, another brave rescue." He grinned and puffed himself up, "I threw it into a lake with one hand, while courageously carrying you out with the other. It was beautiful. Brings a tear to my eye just remembering."

She smiled back, feeling so wonderfully warm, "My big strong hero!"

Siffrin snorted, then when they all turned to look at him he said, "He's going to start telling horror stories about the monster he saw though."

Isabeau's eyes widened, "Oh crab, you're going to be a local cryptid!"

Mirabelle blushed and bowed her head, but… maybe that was a type of 'people talking about her' she could actually handle. Surely a monster was a better topic than she was? No one needed to know they were one and the same.

She looked around at her family, laughing and joking about her soon-to-be legend, and felt that she already had all of the understanding she could ever ask for.