Shapeshifter

Shapeshifter

      “Hello kids,” I said as I sat in a large chair in front of a large fireplace. A ring of small children was seated in front of me. “What story would you like today?”

     “Oh, oh, oh!” One of the kids said. I looked over and smiled.

     “Yes?” I asked. He said something I couldn't hear. “Could you speak up?” I asked.

     The kid blushed, but said, “Can you tell us the story of that shapeshifter?”

     I smiled at that idea. I loved that story. It was my favorite to tell, even though I had made it up.

     “Of course.” I cleared my throat and began. 

     “Kira stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the white capped waves crashing against the cliff face. Thunder rumbled right above her. She was tired of standing there, waiting, but she knew she must. The sea serpent would be there soon. She wanted to jump off of the cliff and find the sea serpent first, but even as a shapeshifter, she could not breath underwater, or see below the choppy surface of the dark water. She wished she could, but the only thing she could change into was a large golden eagle. Her enhanced sight only went so far, she once told me.”

     I couldn’t help grinning then. I loved the amazed looks on their faces and mutters of “He knew her?”. They always made my day.

     “A movement in the water caught Kira’s attention. She saw large, dark ripples flowing away from something very big and scaly as it swam towards the cliff. It was going towards her village. Her home. Here.”

     That last word elicited a chorus of gasps from the children, all of them not quite believing that it had been their village in danger.    

     “It’s true!” I call out. “Kira’s response was quite different, though. Anger rippled through Kira’s body causing her to change. She always closed her eyes as she felt her skin become hard and leathery; her legs thinning, and growing scales; her arms elongating and stretching wider, feathers protruding from her skin. Her face shifting, her mouth becoming a beak, her eyes growing larger. The reason she closed her eyes, she once told me, was because seeing herself change always made her nauseous.”

     “Did it hurt when she changed?” A little girl that was seated right in front of me asked. 

     “Good question, but I think not. She told me it felt more like she turned in to wax and melted, then been put in a mold. She said it was weird, but not painful. She also said that when she changed for the first time she felt like melted wax the whole time. Over the years, she got better and better. Now, on with the story!” I said excitedly.   

     “She opened her eyes. Kira’s sight was clearer than ever, sharper than any human’s could possibly be. She always blinked her eagle eyes once to adjust, then she turned her attention back to the water. The ripples were getting closer.” I paused for added effect. All the kids leaned forward, their eyes wide.

     “With her enhanced sight she could see most of the sea monster. It was much larger than she had anticipated, almost 60 feet long. Its mouth and jaws seemed large enough to swallow her hole.” A few of the kids squirmed; one even squeaked.

     “Kira knew that she had to protect the village at all costs, even her own life. She had been the bravest person I had ever known, which is how she had the courage to dive off that cliff, and spread her wings. She flew to that sea monster, her flight pattern never wavering for a second, though she must have been terrified. As she got closer the serpent slowed, lifting its head above the surface of the water, its eyes glinting with evil hatred. As she took in the sight of the creature, she realized how beautiful it was.”

     “Beautiful?” a kid asked, “Such an evil creature was beautiful?” I nodded.

     “It was deep sea green, its eyes bluer than the waves below it.” I continued, “For a  few seconds she was too stunned by its beauty to move. The creature’s roaring brought her back to the task at hand. Killing the serpent, or at least driving it away for good.” 

     “I wouldn’t want to kill a giant sea creature alone,” a kid murmured, almost too quietly for me to hear. I ignored him.

     “Kira flew around the creature’s head a couple of times, trying, and failing, to find a weak spot in the serpents armor-like scales. Her only hope of successful attack would be to go right into the serpent’s beautiful, blue eyes.”

     “Not the eyes,” a kid whispered, his own eyes wider than the moon.   

     “She rose into the air, flapping her wings as hard as she could. Once she was well, well above the serpent, she turned upside down and dove, aiming for its eyes.  She’d almost certainly been terrified to fly down, knowing full well the serpent could easily tilt up its head and swallow her.” 

     The kids looked like their eyes might roll out of their sockets at any second, being open so wide. If only they knew what the end would be like. I smiled mischievously as I delivered the last few lines.

     “The wind whipped her in the face as she dove down. She turned her body so that her talons were in front of her, then…” I stopped as the children leaned forward. I leaned towards them. “Then, the story ends.”

     I leaned back in my chair, satisfied with my story, as the children made a very vocal protest to the end of the story.

     “No! That can’t be the end!” one yelled.

     “Ya! There was no happily ever after!” another noted.

     “Some stories don’t have happily ever afters, but with this story, I just had to stop because I don’t know the rest,” I said, even though it wasn’t true––the last part, at least.

     I almost felt bad for the little kids. But, a storyteller always loves to throw in a plot twist or two. Though, admittedly, mine were pretty evil.

     I stood from my chair and smiled at the kids. I left the room still reveling in my successfully evil story, and the children's glorious reactions.