Shapeless Hero

14 - Core Principles

August whistles. "Rank S in Morphing. Now that's fuckin' terrifying." He has been casually perusing my skills for the last two minutes.

"I know that S is high, but why terrifying?"

"Buddy, there's nothing above S. Rank A is the highest you can reach through a lifetime of suffering. It's the rank of legends. You must've preened some god exceptionally well, to go beyond A right to S."

"...good to know." I was a bit too pessimistic in regards to my own ranks then. "For reference, what rank is considered average?"

"That would be Rank E for adults, unless you're absolutely talentless in the skill in question. Exceptions exist of course. Some skills need years of formal training, before you even reach rank F in them. Injuries or arcane seals can drop your rank, if you're not careful."

August finishes his short inspection of my skills with a nod to himself. "The rest of your skills are not too bad either. You could probably take on a group of intermediate adventurers head-on." He looks me up and down. "In fact, how 'bout you start using those fancy skills of yours to change into something different? A walking marble statue won't really put people at ease, ya know."

I look at my hands. Marble indeed. "Good point." I mutter, more to myself than him.

"Wanna change into your old self? Should be the easiest shape."

"...I can't remember my old look." Had I forgotten that much when transferring to this world? First my name and now this.

"Curious. In that case, you probably should check your core, before ya try anything."

"Do you mean something like a slime core?", I ask, hoping my RPG-knowledge has meaning in this world.

"Yep!" August starts pacing back and forth along the shore, leaving small imprints of his claws in the sand. "I don't know, why it's not in the description of your Morphing skill, but usually a shapeshifting creature needs a core: It's a part of your body that you keep the same, no matter what shape you take. The higher your rank in Morphing, the smaller you can make the core."

"What exactly does that help with? Right now, it just sounds like creating an unnecessary weak spot." It something a boss monster would have as part of a game mechanic. Hit it there and it's a crit. Rip its core out and you win.

He stops and turns to me. "Because shifting absolutely everything about you also changes your brain or whatever holds your mind. Do you really want to have the intelligence of a cow, when you change yourself into a cow? You might even stay a cow forever since, as a cow, you wouldn't have the mental capacity to think of shapeshifting. I'm sure you'd rather retain your current state of mind somewhere, right?"

A cold shiver runs down my back. I've been one wrong shapeshift away from a complete identity loss all this time.

"And that's not all.", he continues. " Without a core, your mind randomly spreads through your whole body instead of staying in a small, protected area. In that state, any physical damage you take is also mental damage. So, whatever parts of your mind were in your lower body yesterday, 'got probably scrambled. Maybe you lost some of your memories because of that."

I didn't expect August to have such a long explanation prepared. I was sure, I'd have to ask Karl in a moment. "Thanks for telling me, but you all seem to know an awful lot about shifters. Weren't they purged quite some time ago?"

"Heh, not as oblivious of a wimp as I thought! But ask yourself this: What kind of people go to a wild forest full of rank C monsters? That green hell is not claimed by any local authorities for a reason."

"I see..." Karl is a scholar, August is a battle mage and the commander is, well, a commander. Their education must be pretty exceptional in terms of all kinds of monsters. I'm sure there is more to those three though. "Your lives don't seem ordinary, that's certain."

"Exactly. Now get to your core creation, so we can do some shifting. I don't want to explain to every local we meet, why they have to see your shiny marble cheeks."

"You don't like my cheeks, huh? Give me a sec then." I close my nondescript eyes. Just like the mana in me, I can make out another layer of sensations. It's a faint fog that constantly moves through my whole body. Is that my mind floating around? Leaning on its similarities to mana, I imagine those sensations to recede into my chest, compressing into a small sphere, where the heart of a human usually would be.

"There ya go! Nice and safe inside the rib cage.", I hear August say a few seconds later, somehow being able to confirm my core creation. I open my eyes and notice his mana-filled gaze scanning me, some kind of magical X-ray from the looks of it.

Growing aware of his breach of privacy, he rubs the back of his head. "Sorry 'bout that, but core creation is a really rare sight."

I sigh. "It's not like I could defend myself against it anyway..."

"Wow, now I really feel like a piece of shit."

"Good!", I say in semi-faux sternness.

During that exchange, my concentrated ball of mental energy—the core—stays in shape and place, while I shift my focus to the conversation with August. Now I know that the core doesn't need active maintenance and I can let my conscious wander.

Alright, with my mind safely stored, it's time to use my shifter abilities properly! Anticipation grows in me. Living all those years in a vessel of flesh are truly behind me, should I manage to shapeshift. I make a note to thank Karl for his selfish curiosity delaying the commander's judgement.

I frown as I sift through my options. I can't shift into my old look, because of my memory issues. The skill description for Morphing already eluded to this limitation of my shapes: I need to sufficiently observe and remember somebody to recreate the body and mannerisms. My skill rank only influences how much observation of the target is needed.

My frown grows deeper. After failing several times to recall peoples' resemblances, I realize that my memory loss is worse than I thought. I have no luck remembering how my friends looked like. Not even my parents or my beloved shop owner are complete in my memories. Only small fragments are left of them, mostly tidbits of conversations and gestures. For example, I remember having a heated argument in a café. It doesn't matter, if it's the people I'm with or the barista at the cash register: Everyone in that specific memory just looks like some sort of distorted mannequin. Meanwhile, everything else, down to the grains in the salt-shaker on the table, is uncannily well preserved in my mental image of the café.

I take a deep breath. I don't have the time or means to solve that riddle right now. I have to make sure that I'm safe first. The earlier I can get myself to look trustworthy and find a place in civilization, the better. So, can I even remember anyone at all?

I struggle with recalling a few more faces, until a new thought crosses mind: So far, I only tried to recall real people. What about fictional characters?

From that spark of a thought, my mind is suddenly flooded with countless options. Creatures and personalities that I've experienced in video games, movies and books - I remember them all. As it turns out, the modern media of my old world brought enough life to many of those characters, so that my Morphing skill can absorb them. And, as homebound as I was, I consumed a lot of modern media. My shapeshifting-catalogue expands to a stunning size in that single moment.

August raises a brow. "A-are you okay? You look like you've just seen a seagull eat a child alive or somethin'."

I smile. "I'm good! How do nobles look like in Tyllat again?"