FA+
Shop
84
Views
Views
0
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fantasy
Species Eagle
Size 80 x 120
File Size 32.5 kB
Report this content
More from leopardwing
This is a story about a 15 year old male human dreaming of turning into animals and then one day it happens for real as he turns into an eagle. This is a story I've been wanting to write for a while. Been posting it over on Royal Road. Will be posting until I catch up with my new posts there minus 10 chapters. If you like the story check out what I have there, love any reviews, follows, comments and such there if possible.
Royal Road Link: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/1.....shadow-without
Even before I open my eyes, I feel the oppressive heat pressing down. Ughhh, Mom, did you leave the heat on overnight? My skin and mouth are dry, the air tasting faintly of dust and dirt. When I finally open them, wait, where am I? I think as I’m standing alone on an endless open plain. All around, I can see red dirt with clumps of dry grass and the occasional tree or bush. The sun hangs low on the horizon, but I can’t tell if it is morning or evening. When I look behind me, I spot a single landmark, a large mountain rising from the distant horizon. It looks flat on top and fills me with a deep sense of belonging. Why does this feel like home, far more than my house ever did.
I can feel the call again, this time it is like a mother’s warm, gentle touch. It feels like a pull from the direction, a voice without words, something familiar. This is crazy, yeah it is a dream, but it feels so real. And what is this call, I think as it leads me not to the top of the mountain as I expect but to the side of it. I make my way across the thin, dry grass. Couldn’t I have started a little closer? After all, it is a dream, can’t I teleport there? But alas, nothing I do works.
I hear a cry above and glance up to see a large bird, one I’m fairly sure is an eagle. Seeing it gives me a feeling of comfort and joy, like the sound of my mom calling for me when I get lost. It confuses me... my mom isn’t an eagle, but somehow I know it’s right. It calls a few more times, circling once before gliding off toward the mountain. The message is clear. I’m meant to follow it.
After a few hours of walking toward the mountain, I see its features more clearly. Haven’t I seen it on TV? Something Rock, a really famous landmark within Australia. Is that where I’m being pulled toward?
The sun climbs higher overhead, the heat growing with it. In the distance, the eagle gives a sorrowful cry. How can I tell how it feels... and why does it hurt me so much hearing it. It isn’t just calling to me, it’s searching for a lost soul, and the sound drives me faster, pushing me to find answers.
My instinct tells me to go around the side of the mountain and follow it, trusting that I’ll know what I’m looking for when I see it. It has to be around here somewhere. Weathered caves mark the side of the mountain, but that isn’t what interests me. What catches my eye is something simple I’ve noticed in the distance. High in a tall, thin tree, a nest rests among the upper branches. I gulp, staring at the tree. It’s one of the least important things here, just one of many... but somehow it means everything. This doesn’t make sense, why would I care about a n... but I can’t bring myself to finish the thought.
Looking up as I get closer, I realize just how far up the nest is. So close, yet so far. My heart sinks as I see no way up. The trunk is too wide to wrap my arms around, and there are few, if any, handholds. I dig my nails into the bark and try to climb but just end up falling on my butt. There just isn’t enough grip. Come on, this is nonsense... so close.
I growl in frustration, my heart aching with an immense feeling of loss. This is my home, but I can’t reach it. The thought rips through me, and a sound of pure pain tears out of my throat as I clench my hands. I suddenly feel a tingling in my hands as a sharp sting snaps me back. I look down to see my fingers twisting, nails lengthening into claws that have dug into my skin, as black fur spreads across my skin. For a moment, I can only stare in shock. What is going on?
Then hope takes over. I dig my claws into the bark, amazed when they hold. I’ve gained purchase. Looking up the tree and climbing feels so natural now.
I begin to slowly climb my way up. It feels so weird, and a smidge scary, like I’m way too high and only holding onto the tree with my claws. The feeling of the bark against my paw pads feels so strange and unusual. I’m surprised it doesn’t feel like my claws are being pulled out from my weight. But I manage to slowly make it up the tree until I can relax once I’m in the branches and find a place to rest.
I see the nest just a bit above me and so close. I made it. Maybe being a jaguar isn’t so bad if it lets me do this. The tree also feels like home, where I belong, something coming from the jaguar... but also something stronger, the feeling that called me here. I think before climbing again until I’m parallel with the nest.
Standing on the edge of the nest is an eagle. It looks almost like a golden eagle or an immature bald eagle. She’s beautiful. I can tell she’s older, missing a few feathers but still carrying the quiet dignity of a raptor. For some reason, one word fills my head: Mom. As she turns and dips her head in a silent hello, I notice a faint stripe where her feathers shift in color.
Then I hear her voice. Her words feel right.
Son, you finally made it.
The words pierce through me with the sudden realization that this should have been my mother. Tears well in my eyes as I try to understand. “What do you mean?”
She looks at me, shaking her head. Her meaning comes clear, carried on warmth rather than sound.
You were lost to me. We will likely never meet again, but I can give you this gift.
Her talon pierces my skin, drawing blood, but I feel no anger or fear, just acceptance and happiness, and a feeling of warmth flowing into my hand as something fundamental shifts within me.
Take my gift, and become my son.
As she lets go of my hand, the surge hits, raw power and understanding flooding through me. It isn’t like before; this time it’s forceful, a command. And something within me recognizes it and embraces it fully.
I give into the feelings and command as my arms stretch outward, fingers fusing and lengthening. My face pushes forward, but not like the jaguar; this time the change feels harder, sturdier, a weight forming where bone replaces flesh as I realize I’m growing a curved beak. My feet curl and harden into talons. Ticklish pinpricks race across my skin as feathers burst through. This feels like it did in the jaguar dream, but somehow more real and powerful. I am right. The only thing I think.
My heart soars as it all feels right. I am home. I am what I was always meant to be, not a human bound to the ground, but my true self. Somewhere above, the sky calls to me, to embrace me.
As the transformation finishes, I take a few deep breaths and look around. I can see farther now, every minute detail sharp and alive. I glance back at my mom, still not sure how any of this is possible.
She nods once, eyes warm and knowing.
My son, go find your destiny and be your true self.
As her presence fades, only a single feather remains, drifting gently in the air. I feel the last of her presence wrap around me like wings before it lifts away, flying into the sky and leaving only a single feather drifting down. I stare at the feather as it falls, watching it twist in the air until it vanishes into the endless red plain below.
A stillness settles around me, broken only by the soft whisper of wind brushing through the branches, ruffling my feathers the way the air should. My heart races as I look to the edge of the nest, the air beyond it bright and alive. I can do this, this is what I’m meant for. I can’t wait to tell Charlie about this when I wake up. For a moment, fear grips me; the ground feels impossibly far away, but beneath that fear is something stronger, a pull, a promise. I spread my wings, feeling the air press up against them, almost as if it’s telling me to fly. The light catches on the feathers, and for the first time, I truly feel their weight, their purpose. I take one last breath. Then I step forward into the open sky.
There’s a heart-pounding moment when nothing happens and I see the ground coming toward me. THIS WAS A REALLY BAD IDEA!!! Just before I hit the ground, my wings catch the air and wrench me out of my dive. I’m not sure if I’m flying or falling until I shoot back up sharply, soaring into the sky. I give a skree of pure joy, and for the first time, I hear my true voice. Behind me, the mountain falls away until it’s just a shadow on the horizon. This is great! I skree at the top of my lungs.
When I look back, the desert is gone, replaced by a forest glowing with fall colors. Trees surround me, the wind rushing through my wings and sliding over my body. Elation floods me as I soar above the ground, racing through the open air. The feeling is like when your stomach flips, but instead of panic, it’s pure exhilaration. The air feels like where I’m meant to be. I weave between the trees, flooded with the pure joy of flight, amazed by how even the smallest movement of my wings shifts my path with almost no effort.
The farther I fly, the more leaves drift down from the trees, bright red and yellow in the fading light. They begin to lose their color, paling until they turn white like snow. As the colors vanish, the air grows colder, and I blink against something hitting my eye. I realize it’s not leaves, it’s snow. Okay, this dream is getting too crazy, time to wake up. The air is freezing, the world too bright to see, but nothing changes, as if I’m already awake. Then it hits me. THIS ISN’T A DREAM!!!
In my shock, two things happen at once. First, I pull back, trying to stop my falling like I would in a dream. Second, I realize that, unlike a dream, you can't stop a fall in mid-air like it does in cartoons. I plummet out of the sky. Oh shit!!
Royal Road Link: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/1.....shadow-without
Even before I open my eyes, I feel the oppressive heat pressing down. Ughhh, Mom, did you leave the heat on overnight? My skin and mouth are dry, the air tasting faintly of dust and dirt. When I finally open them, wait, where am I? I think as I’m standing alone on an endless open plain. All around, I can see red dirt with clumps of dry grass and the occasional tree or bush. The sun hangs low on the horizon, but I can’t tell if it is morning or evening. When I look behind me, I spot a single landmark, a large mountain rising from the distant horizon. It looks flat on top and fills me with a deep sense of belonging. Why does this feel like home, far more than my house ever did.
I can feel the call again, this time it is like a mother’s warm, gentle touch. It feels like a pull from the direction, a voice without words, something familiar. This is crazy, yeah it is a dream, but it feels so real. And what is this call, I think as it leads me not to the top of the mountain as I expect but to the side of it. I make my way across the thin, dry grass. Couldn’t I have started a little closer? After all, it is a dream, can’t I teleport there? But alas, nothing I do works.
I hear a cry above and glance up to see a large bird, one I’m fairly sure is an eagle. Seeing it gives me a feeling of comfort and joy, like the sound of my mom calling for me when I get lost. It confuses me... my mom isn’t an eagle, but somehow I know it’s right. It calls a few more times, circling once before gliding off toward the mountain. The message is clear. I’m meant to follow it.
After a few hours of walking toward the mountain, I see its features more clearly. Haven’t I seen it on TV? Something Rock, a really famous landmark within Australia. Is that where I’m being pulled toward?
The sun climbs higher overhead, the heat growing with it. In the distance, the eagle gives a sorrowful cry. How can I tell how it feels... and why does it hurt me so much hearing it. It isn’t just calling to me, it’s searching for a lost soul, and the sound drives me faster, pushing me to find answers.
My instinct tells me to go around the side of the mountain and follow it, trusting that I’ll know what I’m looking for when I see it. It has to be around here somewhere. Weathered caves mark the side of the mountain, but that isn’t what interests me. What catches my eye is something simple I’ve noticed in the distance. High in a tall, thin tree, a nest rests among the upper branches. I gulp, staring at the tree. It’s one of the least important things here, just one of many... but somehow it means everything. This doesn’t make sense, why would I care about a n... but I can’t bring myself to finish the thought.
Looking up as I get closer, I realize just how far up the nest is. So close, yet so far. My heart sinks as I see no way up. The trunk is too wide to wrap my arms around, and there are few, if any, handholds. I dig my nails into the bark and try to climb but just end up falling on my butt. There just isn’t enough grip. Come on, this is nonsense... so close.
I growl in frustration, my heart aching with an immense feeling of loss. This is my home, but I can’t reach it. The thought rips through me, and a sound of pure pain tears out of my throat as I clench my hands. I suddenly feel a tingling in my hands as a sharp sting snaps me back. I look down to see my fingers twisting, nails lengthening into claws that have dug into my skin, as black fur spreads across my skin. For a moment, I can only stare in shock. What is going on?
Then hope takes over. I dig my claws into the bark, amazed when they hold. I’ve gained purchase. Looking up the tree and climbing feels so natural now.
I begin to slowly climb my way up. It feels so weird, and a smidge scary, like I’m way too high and only holding onto the tree with my claws. The feeling of the bark against my paw pads feels so strange and unusual. I’m surprised it doesn’t feel like my claws are being pulled out from my weight. But I manage to slowly make it up the tree until I can relax once I’m in the branches and find a place to rest.
I see the nest just a bit above me and so close. I made it. Maybe being a jaguar isn’t so bad if it lets me do this. The tree also feels like home, where I belong, something coming from the jaguar... but also something stronger, the feeling that called me here. I think before climbing again until I’m parallel with the nest.
Standing on the edge of the nest is an eagle. It looks almost like a golden eagle or an immature bald eagle. She’s beautiful. I can tell she’s older, missing a few feathers but still carrying the quiet dignity of a raptor. For some reason, one word fills my head: Mom. As she turns and dips her head in a silent hello, I notice a faint stripe where her feathers shift in color.
Then I hear her voice. Her words feel right.
Son, you finally made it.
The words pierce through me with the sudden realization that this should have been my mother. Tears well in my eyes as I try to understand. “What do you mean?”
She looks at me, shaking her head. Her meaning comes clear, carried on warmth rather than sound.
You were lost to me. We will likely never meet again, but I can give you this gift.
Her talon pierces my skin, drawing blood, but I feel no anger or fear, just acceptance and happiness, and a feeling of warmth flowing into my hand as something fundamental shifts within me.
Take my gift, and become my son.
As she lets go of my hand, the surge hits, raw power and understanding flooding through me. It isn’t like before; this time it’s forceful, a command. And something within me recognizes it and embraces it fully.
I give into the feelings and command as my arms stretch outward, fingers fusing and lengthening. My face pushes forward, but not like the jaguar; this time the change feels harder, sturdier, a weight forming where bone replaces flesh as I realize I’m growing a curved beak. My feet curl and harden into talons. Ticklish pinpricks race across my skin as feathers burst through. This feels like it did in the jaguar dream, but somehow more real and powerful. I am right. The only thing I think.
My heart soars as it all feels right. I am home. I am what I was always meant to be, not a human bound to the ground, but my true self. Somewhere above, the sky calls to me, to embrace me.
As the transformation finishes, I take a few deep breaths and look around. I can see farther now, every minute detail sharp and alive. I glance back at my mom, still not sure how any of this is possible.
She nods once, eyes warm and knowing.
My son, go find your destiny and be your true self.
As her presence fades, only a single feather remains, drifting gently in the air. I feel the last of her presence wrap around me like wings before it lifts away, flying into the sky and leaving only a single feather drifting down. I stare at the feather as it falls, watching it twist in the air until it vanishes into the endless red plain below.
A stillness settles around me, broken only by the soft whisper of wind brushing through the branches, ruffling my feathers the way the air should. My heart races as I look to the edge of the nest, the air beyond it bright and alive. I can do this, this is what I’m meant for. I can’t wait to tell Charlie about this when I wake up. For a moment, fear grips me; the ground feels impossibly far away, but beneath that fear is something stronger, a pull, a promise. I spread my wings, feeling the air press up against them, almost as if it’s telling me to fly. The light catches on the feathers, and for the first time, I truly feel their weight, their purpose. I take one last breath. Then I step forward into the open sky.
There’s a heart-pounding moment when nothing happens and I see the ground coming toward me. THIS WAS A REALLY BAD IDEA!!! Just before I hit the ground, my wings catch the air and wrench me out of my dive. I’m not sure if I’m flying or falling until I shoot back up sharply, soaring into the sky. I give a skree of pure joy, and for the first time, I hear my true voice. Behind me, the mountain falls away until it’s just a shadow on the horizon. This is great! I skree at the top of my lungs.
When I look back, the desert is gone, replaced by a forest glowing with fall colors. Trees surround me, the wind rushing through my wings and sliding over my body. Elation floods me as I soar above the ground, racing through the open air. The feeling is like when your stomach flips, but instead of panic, it’s pure exhilaration. The air feels like where I’m meant to be. I weave between the trees, flooded with the pure joy of flight, amazed by how even the smallest movement of my wings shifts my path with almost no effort.
The farther I fly, the more leaves drift down from the trees, bright red and yellow in the fading light. They begin to lose their color, paling until they turn white like snow. As the colors vanish, the air grows colder, and I blink against something hitting my eye. I realize it’s not leaves, it’s snow. Okay, this dream is getting too crazy, time to wake up. The air is freezing, the world too bright to see, but nothing changes, as if I’m already awake. Then it hits me. THIS ISN’T A DREAM!!!
In my shock, two things happen at once. First, I pull back, trying to stop my falling like I would in a dream. Second, I realize that, unlike a dream, you can't stop a fall in mid-air like it does in cartoons. I plummet out of the sky. Oh shit!!
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Eagle
Size 80 x 120px
File Size 32.5 kB
Comments