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Hail to the king.

As the energy flows into you you feel strangely calm, it is like a warm summer's breeze. All the pains in your body, both natural and magical, seem to ease. Your skin glows a brilliant white as your form shifts and changes, your scarred tattoos vanashing as though they had never existed. Your tusk-like teeth sink into your mouth, and you see your hands become normal, your fingers splitting into a five fingered hand. You feel your face shift, and the light intensifies in a finally burst of energy so bright it blinds you and all in the stadium.

As you regain your sight, you look at yourself. Your skin is no longer green, but pale and pink. your body is thinner, but with no lack of muscle. As your hair falls around you, you see it is no longer a fiery red, but white, like shafts of moonlight. You look at Morgana, her black hair as dark as yours is bright. You look into the sword. The pale-skinned reflection you once saw is now permanently reflected in the blade. You face has become fair, your ears slightly pointed. Your eyes are a color of blue so vibrant that you could swear you were looking into two glowing pools of water.

You hear gasps and murmurs from the crowd. Morgana seems shocked beyond belief. The unfamiliar sensation returns to you; there is some kind of connection between you two, you know it, but still you can't place it. Suddenly, you see a black form land beside the unconcious dragon, and hear the flapping of wings, "Artie!" you say. recognizing the raven almost instantly. The bird bows to you, its wings unfurled. "Your majesty," he says, "Welcome back."


Written by Dream weaver (edited by wanderer)

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