The headline in the Munich Gazette read, “Young Child Missing in the Black Forest.”
A search is underway for a young boy who has disappeared in the Black Forest community of Stuttgart, southeast of Munich. He was last seen walking to school. The Black Forest Police have mounted an extensive search though an early winter storm is expected to bring up to 2 inches of snow and freezing temperatures.
With a contented sigh, Raka wiped the last of the blond boy’s blood from his jaw. He had gorged on the clear pure essence of a young human to step up his energetic matrix, which had degraded when he had become reptilian. To assume human male form, he needed a male child. To become female, he had to consume the body of a young girl.
Raka had been surreptitiously observing the locals for weeks now, learning modern ways and studying their language. During that time, he had found an abandoned shack and furnished his cave with things he would need when in human guise: a chair, table, and bed. From a home at the village’s edge, in the dead of night, he had relieved a puny human of some of his garments as he slept. Now, having consumed a human to regenerate the needed DNA, he was finally ready to make his transformation.
With a shudder, then a lurch, he began to shift. The claws of his feet became soft as human toes appeared. Hairy male legs replaced his stubby reptilian hind appendages and his tail receded back into his body. Scales from his torso, arms and neck melted into pink flesh. His long slithery tongue withered until it could extend a scant inch or so beyond his lips. As he morphed, his airways constricted and he grabbed at his throat gasping for air. Writhing in ecstatic agony, then surrendering to the pain of bone, sinew and flesh reconfiguring itself, he collapsed to the ground. Naked, he lay as motionless as death as he recovered from the ordeal.
Some time later, Raka woke crunched in a fetal position and took in a breath. He had not been in human form for centuries.
He slowly opened his eyes. The candlelight in the dank cave seemed dim to his human senses. Raka rolled onto all fours, then straightened his back so he was kneeling on the hard rock of the cave floor. He explored his new weak and wingless form with soft flesh hands. He felt vulnerable as a member of the human race. His appraisal complete, he gathered the strength of the weak body and stood. The blood rushed from his head and he stumbled sideways. He flung out an arm seeking support and braced himself on the cave wall then staggered to a tattered armchair and sat with a thud. The resulting cloud of dust set him coughing and he cursed the frailty of humans. After a moment, he forced himself to stand again. This time, he maintained his equilibrium. No time to waste, he must dress and get going.
As a changeling, he was still able to keep the reptile glands in his throat. Rubbing them stimulated his adrenaline and made him feel powerful. He spit on his hand and smelled with delight the pungent clear reptilian saliva. “Potent as ever,” he assessed, somewhat reassured.
Near the chair was a single bed with his new clothes. Struggling to master the musculature of this form he had not occupied for so long, he put on the pants, shirt, and jacket he had “liberated” and nodded in satisfaction as he slightly lengthened his legs and shortened his arms so the garments fit perfectly. He had no idea of how to knot the ridiculous piece of cloth humans called a necktie, so he stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket. Frowning, he muttered, “The dress of the Egyptians was simple. I hate these confining things.”
The thought of Egypt reminded Raka of how he had manipulated Pharaoh Akhenaten’s court. He smiled as he remembered deceiving the priests by promising them power if they would abandon the Prophet of the One God. He recalled the delight he had experienced watching the duplicitous fools, Akhenaten’s closest friends, murder the Egyptian King while he meditated.
Bringing himself out of his reverie, Raka went over to a wooden chest that contained one of his most prized possessions. It was something he had fabricated in another time and place during one of his earlier forays in human form. Opening the finely crafted box he picked up an ornate walking stick. Its handle was a Dragon head of pure gold. A pair of flawless rubies was crafted to make fierce glowing eyes, not unlike his own when he was in reptilian form.
The stick not only steadied him as he walked but had a long, hollow needle hidden in the handle. Should he press in a certain way on the ruby eyes, the stick would transform into a weapon that would inject his reptilian venom into his victim. He nodded in satisfaction at the craftsmanship. He had paid dearly for the piece, but it was well worth it.
By human standards, he was a handsome blond male in his late thirties. Donning an ebony Homburg, Raka gazed at himself in the mirror near the bed. Familiarizing himself again with the muscles of his stubby human tongue, he practiced the new language. When he felt he had mastered what he wanted to say, he went through the entire performance. His charismatic blue eyes twinkling, he touched his Homburg with his right hand. In flawless German he spoke the greeting he had observed. “Hello, my name is Rudolf. How, do you do?”
Raka grunted in satisfaction with his accomplishment. He was ready for his mission. Tilting his head, the Dark Lord sniffed to discern the scent of the Shamir Stone’s power. In just a moment, he had identified the direction and set off at a brisk walk.
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