Chapter III: Ascension & Descension

Alakar says to himself, “Oh, I see… I’m going crazy, there are voices in my head now…”

“Foolish being, that is not true…”

Alakar asks, “Then who’s talking to me right now?”

Alakar looked around the cavern yet exerted little effort in doing so. He laid there on the hard rock flooring in a fetal position and wasn’t up to anything particularly interesting.

“I am right in front of you!”

He turns over onto his side, now facing the wall, and says, “Great, now let me die in peace.”

“…What mortal does not wish to live on and to grow stronger?”

Alakar states, “A dying one, now leave me alone voice.”

There was no way he could tell where the voice was coming from. He wasn’t sure how he was interpreting the voice either. It sounded ominous and overpowering to him, but right now, he just couldn’t care about any of that or anything. His failed hunt had taken too much of a toll on him.

“What if I told you there was a way to get out of here?”

Alakar coughs up some blood and says, “Ha, I’d tell yea your humor is worse than mine. Ouch!”

He chuckled and it caused him minor pains across his whole body. Death was coming for him, and there was little time left before his spirit would slip from his physical body.

“Listen, mortal! I will only offer this once, tell me your deepest desire in exchange for everything that you have!”

Alakar says, “If this stab wound doesn’t finish me off soon, your excessive yelling will…”

The thunderous voice was about to express itself fully, yet before that could happen, he decided to humor the inquiry.

Alakar says, “My deepest desire, huh?”

His eyes water and he confides within himself, “Well… I wish I could see my family again, to be able to grow old, and watch my children and their children live great lives…”

“How despicable… Contract accepted!”

He frowns deeply at what he heard, and feelings of utter disdain for the voice rises up from his gut. While considering the possibility that he really is going crazy, he decides to stop talking to himself, particularly the voice.

The green ball now started to vibrate within the column of branches. The ball had broken free from the entanglement and rose to the midair of the room. From there it rotated in place at inconceivable speeds. The speed continued to increase bit by bit, and it begun to pulsate with a bright green radiance. It wasn’t long until it sped up so fast that it made a wicked sound.

*Wom* *Wom* *Wom* *Wom* *Wom* *Wom* *Wom* *Wom*

Alakar was freaked out by all the noise and flashing light, but all he could do was turn his head ever so slightly, just enough to get one wide-eye look on the sight before him.

An orb of mystic energies was blasting the room, and all he knew was that it was very abnormal. There was nothing he could do, and his thoughts ran rampant in disarray. In a flash of light, the orb propelled itself into his back. It hit him so hard that it pressed his whole body against the wall. Sounds of parting flesh could be heard yet not seen.

The orb spins ever so slowly now, sinking deeper, parting bones and organs to who knows where. He groans and endures the weird phenomena against his will. The stone buries its way to the front of his chest and pops out partially, closing the hole behind it.

The body, mind, and soul of his very being was hanging by a mere thread. An odd feeling of life and uneasiness started to swirl in his chest. The gemstone stopped flashing and suddenly flared so bright that Alakar briefly lost his vision.

His limp body was slowly pulled up into the air by the stone, as if one big hand picked him up by the collar. He floated just above the floor. It was fully embedded into his chest, and nearly the size of his hand, or at least it was.

His body began to shrink and contort. All the wounds he endured healed up in seconds, as if new flesh poured out from the wounds. Broken bones realigned themselves and cemented back together. The dagger still lodged in his leg slid out and clattered against rock; the wound then instantly sealed up. He teetered on death’s door for the whole event but no longer.

The stone shimmers and dims back to its original state, and his feet gradually meet the ground. No longer suffering, he tucks his chin down, staring in amazement at his change.

He taps the stone, knocking on it as if it were the next-door neighbor, and says, “Wow it’s really stuck in there. What is this thing?”

No one answered him, and he continued to examine his body. The clothes that he had been wearing, well, they didn’t fit anymore. They laid in a heap around his ankles. He felt like everything around him grew, but it wasn’t long until he realized that he actually shrunk instead. All of the right appendages were still there, especially his masculinity, he made sure to check that first. One thing bothered him though as he gripped and pulled at his skin. It was green. Even worse, it was lumpy and gave off a leathery feel. He definitely was not the smartest creature in the woods, but he figured it out after some frantic pacing.

He stresses and pleads, “No, no, no, this can’t be! I never asked for this shit! Where is that damn voice?! I need answers now!”

The thoughts within his mind were all over the place, yet he wrangled them together, and quickly at that. He always managed to keep things simple and draw on what mattered most to him. And what mattered most right now was getting out of this god-forsaken cave and back to his family.

There was a hole in the top of the room, and no time was wasted. His body was half the size that it was before, and he ascended a tube of rock with a dagger held between his teeth. He spread his feet outwards a bit and used the rough surfaces to shimmy up; it was easier than expected. It didn’t take long until he reached the surface, as he lucked out and the tunnel went straight up for the most part. A normal person would find such a hole odd in the middle of nowhere, but not as odd as the environment now around him.

There was an abundant amount of greenery like usual, however, the terrain was quite muddy. The area was filled with swamp life, birds and bugs of all sorts flew around. There was even the occasional croc floating about, and he made a mental note to watch out for those. It was clear that he was in a different part of the forest now.

He had never been in a swamp before, nor hunted in one either. There was a strong desire within him to go hunt, to embrace the sport he enjoyed, yet he was conflicted. He had yet to figure out how to actually go back home. Sure, he could find his way back, but there was no way Margrett would believe that he was turned into a monster.

He sat on a mossy rock, contemplating what he should do. There was no immediate solution in mind, so he defaulted to what he knew best - hunting. The challenge, the thrill, the satisfaction felt on achieving success, these were the things that drove him as a hunter.

And it started to rain on his excitement, literally. A light drizzle fell upon his naked body, and he stopped fiddling with his dagger. He stood up and went to wipe the rain droplets off his head to only go through an unfortunate revelation.

He was completely bald.

He drops to his knees and shakes his fist at the gloomy sky, and yells, “Noooo, you bastard, my hair! Give it back!”

He then grabs clumps of dirt and throws them into a pond out of anger.

Frogs began to jump from the disturbance, and this caught his eye. As these frogs were not small by any means. Some of them were large enough to swallow him whole, which is definitely what would happen.

He really wished he had his spear right now and that was going to change. There was no way he could go back into that cave, and he set out to locate some timber. The group of trees in front of him were partially submerged in lilypad-covered water, and they looked like willow trees. So of course, he climbed one of the trees. It was a hobby at this point. There wasn’t much of a need to climb high up, and he found a decent size branch. His nails were a little longer than usual, grimy looking too, but they helped him complete the task.

With a little bit of know-how and some improvised tools, the end result was a spear. It was probably a one-time use sort of thing, but he had a spear. In these times, he wished he had his knapsack of useful tools, but alas, he would have to obtain a new one another day. His stomach grumbled, and that was his queue.

Alakar posts up in a sea of cattails and tall grasses. His butt hovers just above the pond as he grips onto his crude spear with both hands. While holding the dagger in his mouth, he reaches down into the murky water, shoulder deep, and grabs a clump of mud and decay. The mud goes flying into the middle of the pond.

*Splish* *Splash*

He knows to wait, just to be patient. The sounds of frogs hitting the water nearby breaks the quiet nature of the pond.

A frog the size of him leaps over the top of the cattails, almost landing on his spear as planned. Yet the frog misses the spiky end of the stick, and lands right behind him, facing the other direction.

He then bursts into action and slams the spear down into a hind leg. It cries out with a sharp screech and flips backwards in an attempt to bite him. He quickly moves out of the way of its lunge attack. The dodge causes him to clench the dagger between his teeth so hard they feel like they’re going to crack, yet he drives the spear deeper into the muck, pinning the prey.

He does his best to get on top of the slimy creature and yells, “You’re not going anywhere Mr. Froggy!”

It jerks and thrashes about, kicking up mud and weeds. He’s not too keen on having it suffer, so he stabs it right in the eye to finish it off.

The pointy end slides off the eyeball, yet still sinks deep into the eye socket. The wound spurts open with sticky fluid. It makes a few sounds and then crumples up in pain. He holds onto the dagger even after everything went still and for good measure. The frog periodically twitches, and its strong muscularity jostles him side-to-side. He breathes out with relief as the frog finally gives up.

There was a new feeling in the air, and it was victory.

He placed his hands all over the kill, amazed at his find. With some strength, he messed around with the limbs and checked it for other commodities. He did not care that the frog was sticky and covered him in goo, even though he had been naked the whole event; None of this bothered him.

He flipped the amphibian over on its back, stood tall over it, and observed his surroundings. The marsh was quiet. There was nothing around to bother him besides the occasional bird call.

His vision began to zoom in and out, he was light-headed, and then his stomach growled. The time for caution was over, and he jumped on top of the frog’s belly. He could have sliced it up and cooked it in a dish, yet deep emotions prevailed. With both hands and nails, he tore into that soft underside. He cut through the skin and buried his face deep in the blood and gore. Half of his body fell into the corpse, but this did not discourage him in the least. The entrails were strewed about in the pond and dyed the stagnant water pink.

*Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom* *Nom*

He comes to, pulling his head from the body cavity with satisfaction all over his face. The blood smears his face and drips from his gaping mouth. There is little recollection within his mind. He clenches his fists in determination regardless and evaluates his figure once again.

He looks up and down his stained forearms and says, “This is bonkers, I gotta find a way to change back!”