Chapter Text
The toxic rays of sun bathing the capital city of Antikef were perfectly blocked by the thick curtains, with the exception of a single sliver of light, left on purpose to hit the dead centre of the room, above the Ithakas’ crown prince.
Like every other morning, Djoseras woke up with the sunrise, but today, even after a night of sleep, his eyelids felt heavy. He blinked a few times before giving up and letting his eyes stay closed.
Even despite this slight inconvenience, the kynazh was not known for his tardiness, so he took a big breath, stretching his arms and back, that forced a deep exhale.
A pleasant crack resounded in the empty room as Djoseras let out a sigh before setting for one more sweet moment into the soft, silky, plum-moth wings filled pillows.
Today they seem more alluring than usual.
But duty was more important than comfort.
‘And comfort is obtained through fulfilling duty.’ He muttered in his pillow before he stood up, one eye still closed.
He moved to the end of the giant bed, letting his feet touch the cool marble floor as his hands went to his braid, starting to untangle it with familiar movements.
Djoseras hovered a hand over the control console on the edge, automatically pinging for the servitors to get his morning bath ready, and to prepare for his arrival.
He yawn, with a hand covering his mouth.
Today he needed to prepare for a short hunting expedition with the now amended Ogdobekh dynasty. Djoseras groaned with closed mouth, thinking excitedly about the way he could poke the crown prince of the copper claded dynasty of their scout party information, as well as the rumour of the biotransferance furnaces were a possibility in the future.
Coaxing such gossip was always exciting, especially while hunting game.
The grumbling continued, and Djoseras stopped.
It seemed like it was coming from deep inside his chest.
‘…..’ he opened his mouth, only for the sound to come louder.
Now fully alert, he stood up.
He brought a hand to his forehead, automatically trying to check his own temperature, looking for a fever.
‘A lung born illness?’ He wondered outloud as he didn’t feel anything unusual.
Djoseras rubbed his temple before running his hand through his hair when he touched his ears.
His eyes widen in realisation, as he slowly brought his hand back.
He grabbed the tip of his ear, only to find it covered in hair, before letting his hand drop to the sides of his head, where they were supposed to be.
‘What in the name of the bloody harvest?’ He muttered as he jumped out of bed and rushed towards the large necrodermis mirror in his room.
He stared at the image.
On top of his head there were two large, furry ears.
Blinking once, twice, thrice before his hands came up to touch them.
The felt real, less firm, and with two side skin pockets near the side of the base. Djoseras bowed his head, letting his long hair fall down, as he tried to see where their insertion point was, when he noticed the strangeness of his nails.
He shakingly brought his hands in front of his face.
They looked more akin to claws, the nail seemed larger, growing around the finger’s tip rather than the nail bed like usually, ending up in a sharp, pointy tip.
His vision seemed to get blurry, as details began to shake. The silver prince became aware of the loud, panicked breathing coming from his mouth.
‘No, this cannot be real!’ He said between breaths, only for something to tap him on the side of his leg.
The fear made his mouth clamp shut as he jumped away. A long snake seemed to follow him as he tripped over, falling on his side.
Rationality won over fear, and with a swift kick, he slammed his heel on it.
He yelled in pain, as the hairs on the thing bristled making it look bigger.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Your Majesty? There was a scream, permission to enter.’
Djoseras’ heart skipped a beat, as he held his hand over his mouth, his brain connecting the pain with the control it had over the furry snake.
‘Nothing of concern happened. Refrain from entering!’ he said, the words coming out measured and clear.
‘As you wish, your Majesty.’ The guard at the other end of his bedchamber’s entrance replied, before the familiar shuffle of the plate armour he was wearing signalled that he was turning away from the door, and to his duty.
The kynazh kept looking at the twitching tip of what appeared to be a tail, connected to the base of his spine, judging by the uncomfortable way it pressed into itself when he tried straightening himself up.
‘Old One’s greed, what is happening?’ He said as he removed his hand from his face, only to find it covered in blood.
The tang of pain and metallic taste spread in his mouth, as he apparently bit his tongue when he fell down. He could feel the sharpen teeth inside, usually long.
‘The lawmaker punished false labour with lost favour.’ A classic tongue twister.
But not impeding his speech.
Grabbing the sides of his bed, Djoseras stood up, walking calmly towards the mirror.
He unfasten the silken belt in the middle of his night garments, before he shook them off, letting them pool around his feet, as he examined himself in the mirror.
Then, he meticulously took note of them, as the most obvious ones were the freshly migrated ears on top of his head, and the long swishing tail, both of them covered fully with short hairs of the same colour as his.
He seemed to now have sharp claws, both on his feet and hands, that seem to have pinkish blood vessels up to the middle point. Those were paired with sharp and long incisors, as well with pupils that appeared to have been just slits, that were now returning to their round selves in the darkness of the room.
‘Those would be problematic to hide.’ The eldest scion muttered as he was already planning on how to deal with those new unfortunate features before he could start looking deeper into removing them.
‘First and foremost….’ He turned from the mirror, his bare feet loud on the cold marble.
He reached the bed before pressing on the button with the current servant in charge.
‘Eldest scion Djoseras is addressing you, with whom am I speaking to?’
‘Heter, this shift’s head, your excellency.’ A soft voice replied back.
Djoseras was already opening multiple crysophrasic projection screens around him, searching reports for any such incidents similar to his.
‘Heter, I need you to make sure that no one will wait for me in my private bath chambers. Tell them to leave all their utensils and oils there.’
‘Yes, your excellency.’
‘And I want you to personally enter scion Oltyx’s chambers, then report to me anything you might find noteworthy.’
‘Yes, your excellency.’
‘That is all. Dismissed.’ Djoseras closed the communication line, as he brought a finger to rub at his chin.
Nothing of such nature that happen to him seem to have been reported until now on Antikef.
He didn’t even noticed as he brought his finger closer to his mouth, before he started running his tongue along its length.
The kynazh stopped before putting his hand down.
He closed his eyes and breathe deeply.
His ears could move slightly, his tail’s tip was beating on the cold floor.
With a long exhale, he raised his eyes, before opening the chamber to his dressing room, and grabbing silk wraps and long and sharp hair needles.
Unnas would expect him to be present at the morning audiences, and he never disappoints.