Immortal To Be

By A.R. Moler

So now I’m a dragon. I have been for more than a century, I just never knew shapeshifting was going to part of the long game. Learning to change form is no walk in the park. My supposed mentor is doling out information one snippet at a time. Fitz and I are growing closer. The attraction just keeps getting more intense. Do we have a future? And can I convince the cabal to leave the people I care about alone? More changes are coming. Some more lethal than others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.R. Moler
• Release date: Jun 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215946152

A.R. Moler

A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has - learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle and learned to ride it. She has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years, but only recently has become published. Her website can be found at http://armoler.com

Book preview

Immortal

To Be

By

A.R. Moler

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2023 by AR Moler

Cover Titles and Graphic Design P.E. Ash & T.B. Bond

Edited by Danielle Degaetano

Ring by Veil Jewelers

Chapter 1

Sophie

I really don’t want to do this, I muttered. I could see my breath.

Fitz raised an eyebrow. Wait, then why are we out here?

Want and need are different things. The two of us, Fitz and I, were back out in the sanctuary area used by the local lycan pack. It was a heavily wooded area in rural Loudoun County, with a central clearing that had a fire pit. Scraggily dead winter grass carpeted the open area. A mix of pine and leafless trees formed a rough oval about the size of a football field. We both wore heavy winter jackets, hats and boots suitable for hiking through the woods on a cold night in mid-December.

Less than a week ago, this was where I had physically shifted into a dragon, when Fitz had accidentally hit me with a lightning strike. Ouch, ouch and ouch. It wasn’t the first time I’d been struck by lightning. I’d done it to myself a few times, about seventy to eighty years ago, when I was first learning to wield the storm energy. But this was the first time I’d changed. And then I’d been stuck… until I pulled down the lightning and purposely re-zapped myself.

Over the past few days, Fitz and I had gone round and round over the sequence and details of the event. Toss in the snip of information we’d acquired from Tikh, and it seemed necessary that I repeat the scenario to confirm that this was something I could do. As Fitz pointed out, in the spirit of good science, one instance could be a fluke. Repeatability was more definitive proof.

The air temperature was about two degrees above freezing out here. Unless I wanted to destroy more clothes, I ought to strip naked before electrocuting myself again. At least Fitz was carrying a blanket for me this time.

We could wait, Fitz said. He set the blanket down and curled a hand against the side of my neck. His touch was welcome, and through our mind link I could feel a mix of worry and care.

No, I need to know if this is the new normal for me. It feels like a fading nightmare, a one off.

We could have tried it on the roof of the building.

Too risky. Lightning in the winter is unusual to start with and what if someone saw. Not to mention the possibility of setting the building on fire. I rested my forehead on the front of his shoulder. Fitz wrapped his arms around me and held me. I stood there absorbing the warmth of his embrace for a couple of minutes. Every step of this was going to suck.

I pried myself away and hastily began to strip, leaving my clothes in a heap on the ground. I strode out further into the middle of the open space. I didn’t see much point in electrocuting Fitz too, so I tried to make sure there was a decent amount of space between us. I flexed my fingers and reached for the ambient static electricity. I wondered if there was a minimum threshold for this to work. Hopefully the bolt would not be immense… Agh…

~

I opened my eyes. Pain. I flexed a finger. Or was that a toe? The proportions felt wrong, and the fingernail was too long. I counted limbs, coming up with two arms, two legs… and two wings. That last bit felt bizarre. I was lying in a sprawl on my side.

Sophie? Fitz put a hand on my leg.

Gimme a minute. Still trying to sort out body parts. Gradually I righted myself into some approximate position of kneeling, arms and forearms on the ground. My legs were bent in the wrong direction, except I guessed it was anatomically appropriate for my current state.

I gingerly stretched my wings. The span was big. Small airplane big, or so I judged based on how tall Fitz was.

He touched my shoulder. Not quite so freaked out this time?

I guess. I lifted one arm off the ground and wiggled it, then the other one. Something behind me moved and pressed against the ground for balance. Oh yeah. Tail. More body parts I wasn’t used to.

Can you walk?

I don’t know. I shifted my arms and legs and managed to stand up, or at least as standing up as something with four legs usually got. Having those four limbs share a roughly similar length was more weirdness. I stumbled and staggered a few steps forward. I had the grace of newborn elephant. Thrilling. On the other hand, my wings had involuntarily folded themselves back more or less out of the way. Could I fly? Did I even want to try? Flying also implied landing… Given my lack of coordination at just walking, that probably translated to crashing. I glanced back at where Fitz was standing.

Keep going. I think it’s going to take a while to learn the biomechanics, he said.

I wobbled along over to the tree line at the edge of the clearing and then began to head back. The tail was definitely involved in all this. The wings swung slightly against the sides of my body as I took steps, again, contributing to my balance, but not in the same way. I stopped in front of Fitz and sat. I looked down at my lower body. Ass on the ground, back legs folded, tail behind, like a cat. My head was a bit above Fitz’, so seated this way, that made my head seven to eight feet above the ground.

He touched me again. Your gait is somewhere between cat and T. rex. Granted, biology is not my strong suit, but it makes me wonder exactly what your skeleton looks like.

Do you think I’m supposed to be able to fly? Or are the wings just for show?

Assuming that magic has more to do with this than evolutionary biology, I would guess the wings should allow you to fly.

That’s a problem for another day. What do I look like? I’d ask you to take a picture of me, but I’m a little weirded out by the fact your phone obviously has internet connectivity. The chance someone could hack a picture from it is too risky.

I could turn on the camera but not actually take the picture.

I thought about it for a bit. Okay.

He pulled out his phone and turned the screen on, activating the camera. He stepped back and held it up in the general area of my head.

I had a snout. My eyes had vertical pupils. Oh my, what big teeth… The lighting wasn’t great. A half-moon shone cold white light above me. The phone screen provided