Superhero Adventures, UK Style

Sam wandered the halls of the Library alone with his thoughts. Mary having received the perception spell from Ophelia had rushed off back to the BASEment to see Jeeves. Akira, armed with his genealogy of the Steadman’s was talking to their initial guide Mahzi about something.

He did wonder about all the large world globes in the private reading rooms which gave of a mystical aura… Could they be used for some sort of tracking spells?

As he wandered around the room, he found himself almost bumping into Lillian returning books from the stacks to the shelves. She looked irritated as usual.

Still, when would he next get a chance? “Ah Lillian, sorry to interrupt…” “Then why are you?” Taken back he continued though slightly hesitantly, “I need some advice and you’re the only dragon personality I know, that I can talk to, may I?”

To his surprise, she stopped as though deep in thought and nodding, she put her books down on the table and gestured to some nearby seats.

“So..?” In a rush Sam found himself explaining what Mikey had suggested about his possible shapeshifting. “So the question is, is it even possible and if so, how does it work?”

She paused and quietly spoke; “There is enough dragon quintessence in you to potentially shapeshift though likely only into a familiar shape. How long you’d be able to maintain it would be another issue since this is now your true shape. It’s not a spell but a state of mind and regular practice…

Get a mirror and try and remember what you used to look like. Focus on your very essence as a normal human, become the person you were. If you succeed then be aware you will put the dragon part of you away, at least temporarily but in return you’d regain your original shape and form.

Wouldn’t last long though, possibly minutes, possibly hours but at some point the pressure to revert, to regain your dragon heritage would prove too strong and you’d have to revert. I doubt there’s enough dragon in you to become an expert shapeshifter…”

“So, no tricks or?”

“No tricks, no spells – it’s in you, so just practice and effort. Then when you need it, it will come.”

“Thank you. Now I just need to find out about a certain Joey Tiamente…”

“Ah, interesting.”

“Why?”

“Well Tiamente isn’t a common name. Could your progenitor have put some of his essence into something – an urn or a piece of jewellery perhaps? That how I was resurrected into this mortal shell…”

She stood up and nodded to him then unreturned to replacing the remaining books on the shelves, completely ignoring him.

So where did he go from here? He had a conversation he had to have with Mikey and perhaps a confrontation with Joey Tiamente. The idea of placing some sort of order with Shaou Ni Imports, even assuming he got to speak with the boss, was difficult at this time but could he engineer a meeting somewhere else?

He stood to take his leave, creaking and scratching his chair awkwardly across the quiet floor of the library, no doubt to an unseen grimace of his momentary host. Sam had looked death in the face countless times and his hero profile read that he was indeed “Fearless” – yet Lillian had an uncanny intensiveness and intimidation about her, a view no-doubt shared by Akira. He gestured in apology to no-one in particular.

He began to step away, but Sam no-doubt there was some fascinating studying to be done in such a marvellous, alien place. Truly a unique education was to be had here, rather than merely at a typical university.

Just as Sam was truly feel like he was settling in to his new form, the possibility of changing it all again seemed bizarre. Entirely possible without a doubt, but bizarre nonetheless. A thought crossed his mind and like an all entirely too excited young and curious twenty-something, he darted back over to the mysterious librarian to pry.

“Sorry to bother you, last question, I promise, and I will leave you to your work and peace.” He uttered quickly. “You mentioned that taking the temporary form of a human would be possible with practice, memory and effort. This I understand.

But what about other forms?  What would happen if instead I focused on the form of a true-dragon?”

He paused, waiting to see if the question either caught the curiosity and intrigue in Lillian or if she would be critically offended instead. “Could I shape change into a dragon like Tiamente in the flesh, rather than this bipedal shape?”

He pondered about other forms, but that was for another time. With eyes wide with attention, eager to soak up any tangible glimmer of knowledge, we awaited her response – keen, but respectfully.

This time she didn’t stop working, or even bother looking at him.

“You’d be trying to make a God out of clay. There isn’t enough of its essence in you to achieve anything other than a very painful and crippling experience were you to try. Now were you to somehow able to absorb more of Tiamente… possibly by completing the bonding ritual or even eating the other Dragonkin and absorbing its share of Tiamente’s energy, then possibly. Depends how much of the dragon’s core you could obtain and absorb.

You’d never be a true dragon though, even were you to somehow emulate her shape and powers; too much of the stench of mortality clings to you, too much ‘humanity’ to be recognised as a true heir.”

After posing the question, he went to make his leave again, but as he approached her she looked up, her eyes momentarily flaring fiery-red infernos. He was stopped dead in his tracks. Now that was true draconic influence!  “Remember whatever you finally manage to change into, this is now your proper form” she gestured vaguely with her free hand  in his general direction, “and to this will you always return.  You can be no more dragon that you can be totally human any more. Learn to be content little mortal not always trying to become that which you are not.”

Then the pressure passed as though it was never there. He went to pass her one of their group cards with their public contact details but she merely gestured at him to drop it on the desk in front of her as she turned away and continued restacking the shelves with her precious books.

Nothing more he could say or do, thankfully he suspected that if she wanted to contact him at any time she would. It would be more likely that she would instead make an effort to avoid the interruption and irritation of such a creature as he.

Sam hoped that they could maintain some form of correspondence. While she originally had marked him as a traitor and they had somewhat conflicting philosophies, politics and patrons, he silently hoped that she may somehow learn to tolerate or enjoy his company. There was after all a serious shortage of draconic-comrades locally in which to confess to.

Who knew, perhaps Young Sam could advise on Lillian’s original humanity in trade for her guidance on Sam’s new draconic lineage? Unlikely.

Time to leave; there was a text message from Jeeves requesting the team’s presence in the BASEment that evening for a shared dinner and the tone of the message made it clear no-one was excused unless it was truly life-threatening.

He thanked the young librarian that had shown them to Dr. Bradbury’s room and quietly offered up thanks to the Library.

As he was leaving, he passed one of the crystal projectors or nodes that Ophelia used to deal with inquiries. He touched the stone and an image of Ophelia in all her demonic glory appeared.. “How may I..?”

Sam realised she was deliberately avoiding eye contact with him so he quietly stated that he wished to say thank you to her for her kindness and hospitality and mentioned that he was eager to return, but there is no rest for the wicked and thus no rest for The Balance either, duty calls.

A look of confusion crossed her face as she stared at the floor and wrung her hands together… “I do not comprehend. Why say thank you to Ophelia? That does not follow normal Library protocol. Ophelia is bound to the service of the Library and its patrons. Why would probationary member, designation Young Sam say thank you..?”

“Because you were helpful and I am grateful for that. Thank you.” The look of bewilderment lasted only for a couple more seconds before a look of intense concentration crossed her face and she again returned to her more comprehensible tasks.

Leaving by the main door, into the street and its burden of rotting plant stalks he plotted out his best air-zone friendly flight path back to the BASEment.

He planned on having a quick chat with Mikey about the scrap-yard, and a quick catch-up with Annie (providing she wasn’t too busy at work). If he was dead-set on popping a visit to the Tong, he would best travel with a sharp translator and extra set of eyes. They may have to set off during the late evening though, Sam was reminded by a notification: “Dinner”…

Mikey was in the training area when he arrived back and told her that not only was she welcome to stay and take over Ivan’s shack but that she would be allowed to get guard dogs – she interrupted him with a smile and a single word “build”… He corrected himself; ‘build’ some guard dogs and work the yard provided she could confirm their presence would remain secret.

They agreed that they would discuss it further over dinner; seems Mary had insisted everyone attended. The start of a tradition she said. Who was he to argue with that?