Anthony J.

Last Updated was 10/6/19

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a.           Age: 37

b.Name: Anthony Lee Jagger

c.Alias/Handle: The Silver Bullet, Tony

d.Gender: Male

e.Religion: N/A

f.Birthplace:

g.Date of Birth:

h.Deathplace (if at all):

i.Date of Death (if at all):

j.Gender Orientation: Heterosexual

k.Power Element Affinity:

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Biological Information

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a.Ht: 6’1

b.Lb: 156

c.Mother: Meagan Jaunter

d.Father: Theodorus Thaddeus Jagger

e.Siblings: No

f.Children: Faolon Muse Jagger

g.Marriage: Yes (to Helena Syntax)

h.Friends: Alina Grimmer

i.Enemies: A lot of people

j.Related to Who: Theodorus Thaddeus Jagger, Meagan Jaunter, Faolon Muse Jagger

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Physical Traits

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a.Eyes: Dark brown

b.Skin: pale

c.Body Type: thin

d.Scars:

e.Other:

f.Unusual Notes of Interest:

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Mental Traits

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a.Month and Year Traits

b.Persona (Major):

c.Persona (Minor):

d.Trauma:

e.Nature:

f.Nurtured:

g.Interests:

h.Dislikes:

i.Fears:

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Power Abilities

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a.Power Strongest Against:

b.Power Weakest Against:

c.Learned Powers

d.Inherited Powers:

e.           Resistant Against:

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Role in Story

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a.Appears in what Story:

- Series 1 ‘Motives of the Gods’ Book 3 ‘The Silver Servant’

-Series 4 ‘The White Light Trilogy’ Books 2 and 3

b.Main or Minor Character: (Main in S1B3 TLZ, Major Antagonist S4 B2-3 TLZ)

c.Relationship to other Main or Minor Characters: Anthony is rather unique individual. He can come off as both neurotic as well as being able to lead others without fear of self-endangerment. While he isn’t the most loyal subject, he is quite honest and always willing to lend his opinion on anything he deems interesting or in his realm of understanding. He surprisingly has very few things he truly fears, and that which does he fear are woman. For some reason, he both admires and dislikes woman in various ways. He loves women when they’re in a motherly situation, but absolutely freaks out when in a room with many women, or one is in charge of a situation he thinks that he should be instead. His actions usually come off a brazen and unnecessary when this is true and only seems to annoy rather than to impress or dissuade in partaking of whatever is the situation.

He doesn’t really have any code of honor and fights dirty, using mainly his wits to get around in a tussle. What he lacks in strength he compensates in his quick reflexives, tolerance of pain, and a hard-headed take on just about anything that presents a challenge to him, respectively. While he doesn’t like to feel left out, he does get flighty when it involves his own life or situation, that being something of importance to him some way or another. While he isn’t one for a lot of talking, he does enjoy a good brawl or occasional gamble to flaunt his intelligence; he often feels like he’s not fully able to reach his potential for some reason. Other than having to forcibly place his mother into a psychiatric ward due to her bizarre obsession with some sort of other world’s existence and how he’s critical to its survival, he does quite well on his own and lives off of his father’s life savings (his father disappears for some reason and the money is thus placed under his ownership).

Though he lives comfortably, he does not tend to strut his wealth. Rather, he likes to keep a simple living style that typically involves little more than a place to sleep and do his other naturally required activities of every day living. Those around him typically know of him and his deeds, and those who know him tend to stay very far away from him, due to his tendency to of said above. He enjoys picking fights and doesn’t really care who the winner is, only matters if he gets paid for either way. He’s well renowned for his habit of participating in illegal fight clubs. He’s incredibly tricky as an opponent and can usually defeat an enemy without even needing to dirty his own hands. If push comes to shove, he’s inhumanely talented as a silver tongue and even more so with his ability to endure incredible amounts of physical pain. He is also quite physically built despite looking thin and weak. Though brute force isn’t his first option, he can do so with quite a bit of force behind it.

d.Important Situations Involving Character and/or Others: Anthony is one to pick up odd jobs and not really care if he’s paid or not, above or below the belt, he doesn’t much care as long as he has a good time, and someone ends up humiliated. That being said, when he’s hired to carry out a simple task of retrieving a lost item, he ends up on the very, very wrong side of the situation and ends up in a situation he is fated to deal with.

In the slums of Blackbirch (several hundred years before the main storyline occurs) there are shanty towns sprawled all across the country side, many abandoned or used by outlaws and criminals for their devious operations. Unsurprisingly he knows most of them and many of them owe him massive amounts of material worth or have favors. He basically has just about anybody in his pocket. He has many that would take him out, if they dared to try. Only someone stupid with a deathwish would consider picking a fight with him or a total stranger wouldn’t know of or about him and that was far and few in-between. So when he comes across Helena Syntax, his whole world essentially is flipped upside down.

Anthony is sent to retrieve an item supposedly left behind in a raid when the client, who doesn’t seem to trust him with their identity, was involved with some shady business at the time and place of the occurrence. Not really caring or giving much thought of the deal, he eagerly accepted; this time, his ego would be his weak point and they knew it (seeing as Mary Slaynoir was just as equally crafty but with a rye sense of humor and good intentions, that being who requested his aide). Upon his arrival, he’s mildly surprised at how well the particular area is up kept. It seems to look like a middle-class house with a lawn cut within an inch of its life, with a white picket fence to boot. This was an oddity as this location was quite inclined to prey on the weak and those with everything to lose, like said house.

Though he does have a faint tug at the back of his mind it seems suspicious and more or less a trap of some sort, he goes on with the job, not really caring about that fact at hand.

As he opens the door, which is interestingly not locked, he immediately witnesses a scene he will never quite grasp the gravity of. Two women are locked in heated battle, swords flashing and bouncing off one another like a figure skater and partner in passionate embrace. He’s stunned by the furious mettle of both fighters, and watches in awe as they finally end in a stale-mate, both locked in a death stance to the other. Looking back and forth, Anthony then gulps deeply. He really, really didn’t expect woman like this sort to be here…let alone fighting…with swords. Both parties have nicks and scratches from the other’s blades, faint trickles of bright beaded blood splashed across their wares.

Anthony decides now isn’t the best time to interrupt, when they seem to notice his stare. They both equally seemed genuinely surprised at his arrival and then stand down from the final blows they could’ve inflicted to one another. With their attention now on him however, his typically laid-back attitude has turned into fear. They seem to be studying him and both sheath their rather elegantly decorated swords. Though they are no longer seeming to be intent on killing each other, he can sense their heightened glares of surprise and begins to sweat profusely.

When he apologizes and means to leave, one of the women tells him to stop and tell her his name. The other nods as if in agreement, much to his chagrin. He has a feeling they could cause serious trouble if he doesn’t at least do the following command, as it didn’t seem like a request. Telling them a fake name, he states he was not aware of such a heated situation and had no intention of interrupting them. The one on the right, whom was considerably shorter than the one on the left, tilts her chin at him as if looking down, or as much as she can seeing she’s the size of a child. The other however is closer to his height, if not a few inches off,  and puts her hands on her quite noticeable hips. She gives a small laugh as if she wasn’t expecting a truthful answer or one at all. She at least seems to not look at him like dirt like he’s come to be familiar with.

She then waves a hand in the air as if to clear the atmosphere of tension and introduces herself as Helena Syntax and her associate, Alina Grimmer. The two seem to look at one other with a curious glint in their eyes and both nods simultaneously. The smaller woman, Alina, appears less than impressed. She states that ‘Well he certainly seems not the type we were hoping for. He looks like he’s going to wet his privies.’ To which the other promptly replies, ‘I’d be scared of you, being so short. Your temper is cataclysmic. I’m surprised you failed to burn the house down as it is.’

Not overall sure what is going on or why they’re so friendly all of a sudden, he makes a fake cough into his hand and tries to excuse himself. Helena gives a glare to which he doesn’t seem to understand why she seems so angry, and then her face turns to surprise. ‘It’s hard to say but if it is this guy we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.’ To which Anthony can only state ‘Me? I don’t even believe we’ve ever met each other.’ Struggling to recall if he’s ever seen the pair of them, he can’t quite say if hasn’t seen them, but where he can’t place. Helena grips her pants buckle and makes a series of motions with her hand. She traces out a symbol of some sort, to which he can’t seem to believe he’s seeing. The light that follows her finger is a white color and spells out a symbol that seems to be familiar somehow.

It’s a symbol his mother had scribbled all over the house over and over again. When he asks how she knows of that and if it means anything important, she seems to nod in approval and pulls out a strange looking leather book that is gilded in silver trimming and has the same symbol engraved on the cover. It was his mother’s diary. He only knew that as she had tried to have him read it several instances to which he had no interest in her rambling nonsense. It had all kinds of arcane scribbling and what nots in it. He knew what it looked like though and there was no way anyone could have made such a thing with how intricate and unique it was. Yet how or better yet why, did they have it? Was this the thing his job was meant to find?

Helena continues to stare deeply in thought at Anthony, as if trying to read his thoughts. He remains silent however, unsure of what they’d do if he admitted to seeing it let alone his mother owning it. He shrugs in what he portrays half not caring and half bored. Alina seems to make a quick sniffing sound as if she had something in her nose. Helena glances over at her accomplice and then puts the book back into its carrying case located on her other hip. Alina continues to make this weird disgusted sound he assumes is for his disrespectful attitude and Helena finally gives a sigh. She folds her arms as if disappointed. When she then tells him she must of mistook him for who they were looking for, it seems like she bought the act. Alina certainly seems to have done so. Though he doesn’t let his guard down quite yet.

With a long stretch of silence between them, Helena suddenly snaps her eyes open, wide, and tells Alina and Anthony to ‘duck’. Anthony is already miles ahead of her and is halfway out of the house when she says it and a massive resounding whoosh of movement cuts the house into two pieces. It seems to stay air borne for several seconds as the woman flee the house behind him seconds later and then the roof crashes back into the half left untouched. Anthony is totally perplexed but Helena seems to have made a confirmation of some sort. ‘You sensed…yet you didn’t notice us when we were fighting. How curious.’ Anthony merely gives a sharp downward tug of a frown but can’t help but wonder what she meant. She could read him perfectly. She was just waiting for him to let down his guard. She was one to watch out for.

Helena quickly spots the car that he had used to drive out to the cesspool of a location and yells at him to start it. His adrenaline over riding his fear of women, he revs the engine with Alina in the passenger seat and Helena riding in the passenger seat, rather awkwardly half way out of the window. When Anthony asks just what was going on, Alina sniffles with annoyance but figures he ought to know, his life was in danger too. Alina gives him a basic run down of what they had been doing before he showed up. They had attempted to conduct a ritual that would lure a particular spirit to the house so that they may be able to ‘catch it’ with the book. Anthony doesn’t understand how you’d catch anything with a dirty old book but simply agrees. The thing was, it not only seemed to have brought the creature after them, but somehow Anthony was also involved now. So they were curious if he was a part of the situation or just some random hooligan. Though Alina obviously doesn’t believe in coincidence as she sits crossly, and he drives rather recklessly through the back woods.

After what seems like several long minutes of driving, he hears Helena give a thump to the car to stop, according to Alina when she does so, and pulls off to the side of the back road. Anthony is feverishly running his hands through his hair, just what he was doing…not entirely was he sure. Helena and Alina seem to have a small conversation before letting him into their next plan of action. Helena tells Anthony that for whatever reason, he had been sent at the same time the creature had been summoned. How the two correlated was too perfect and that Anthony must have some kind of reason other than just to look around. He says repeatedly he doesn’t have any other kind of reason to have been there than what he was told to look for.

Hesitant as he is, he spills that he knows about the book’s owner, but not that she’s her son. They seem particularly interested at the notion and begin bombarding him with strange questions he doesn’t fully know how to answer like, What era is this world in or who was the one who sent you. He in turn tells them he doesn’t know anything but the symbol and that the woman who wrote it was crazy. Helena seems offended and Alina shrugs at the vulgarity of his statement for whatever reason. ‘What? Now you’re going to judge me after I helped you? Give me a break.’ Helena admits he has a point and tells Alina to simply try to find a place to camp as they leave the road to travel deeper into the woods.

Upon the mentioning of that activity, Anthony is confused. Why they need to stay here when they should be getting as far away as possible from whatever they had summoned was beyond him. Helena confesses that they needed to lure it away from anywhere public and they had arrived at a perfect place to conduct the second part of the ritual in which they would capture the spirit for whatever purpose they intended it for. They did seem leery of telling him that as well. Anthony at this point sort of throws his hands in the air not understanding anything going on around him and goes out to find a preferable spot for the night.

As dusk approaches, he has started a decently sized bonfire and is sitting near the lake’s edge with a look of dark thought. Helena approaches him and he merely turns his head to the side facing away from her then asking for her to sit. He knew she’d been standing there for several minutes, it was starting to bother him. Helena takes a seat next to him and seems to be rather interested in him. Though they say nothing for some time, Helena asks Anthony just what he was doing. She also knew the name he gave her wasn’t his. When he fails to answer she asks in a different way, as in why he chose to help them when he simply could’ve driven away without them.

As it was very unlike Anthony to help strangers, especially woman with swords, out of the kindness of his heart, he simply did what instincts told him to. He wasn’t one to question his gut put frankly. They needed his help and he was totally able to do so. When she asks if she has put unwanted burden upon him, it sort of strikes him odd she’d ask such an elusive and out of character comment. Anthony looks over at her with a very serious look in his eyes. All he really says is that he isn’t even sure what to expect as he avoids the question altogether.

They take shifts watching the fire and for danger, as no one was totally convinced that the spirit wouldn’t attack them off guard. Upon Anthony’s turn, Helena takes rest. However, before she does so, she asks if he’d watch over her book. He gives Helena a long look as he is uncomfortable with handling anything of the sort, but also recalled he needed it for his job-to-do. It seemed odd they’d trust him so quickly…She tells him to be careful with it as it is very important to her. He shrugs in acknowledgement. Though she sets it next to him, he feels very unnerved to even be near it. That book was what caused his mother to go insane. It was the very thing that ruined everything his mother had achieved. It was that book that not only seemed to mock him but now it even was his task to find and bring back to whoever was crazy enough to own, let alone read the damn thing.

Revulsion and yet curiosity getting the better of him, he pokes it with the tip of his finger as if it would bite him or some such nonsense. Just what had driven his mom to such insanity that made his father not only leave them both, but force Anthony to put his own mother in the care of people dedicated to healing crazy people? Biting his lip, he grabs it by the spine like he would with a dangerous bug, and flipped it face up, to see the odd spider like symbol sprawled across the leather cover in a curious silver hue; was it silver or metal, he wondered. It looked totally alien to him, though he couldn’t understand why it meant so much to this woman. Glancing over at her sleeping, which he knew she wasn’t entirely asleep, he could tell by her careful breathing, he decides to see what’s so special about it other than its unreadably scrawls and other unsettling illustrations it had.

To his total surprise, nothing is written in it. Not one drop of ink throughout the entire thing. He looks at every page front to back, yet nothing is written, smeared, or any kind of use is ever or has been made in this thing. He fervently pages the book back and forth, looking for some kind of clue or reason. Was it different from the one his mother had originally? Why was it blank in the first place? He glances at both Alina and Helena briefly when he accidently cuts his thumb on the razor thin paper as he’s distracted. His thumb gushes blood and gets on a page. He shakes his hand as it burns terribly and sucks on it in an attempt to stem the pain. He angerly puts the book back, not noticing his blood got inside, and sat it near Helena as it had been.

For the rest of the night he grumbles about the book eluding him its worth nor meaning and slowly starts to drift off as the sun begins to rise.

Next thing he knows, Helena is freaking out over something. Rubbing his eyes and not exactly liking the fact he wasn’t in a comfy bed, he groans and stretches rather audibly. His thumb still angrily reminds him of his disposition. Helena totally ignores him as she seems to be vigorously flipping through the book’s pages, much like he had before but with an extra kind of frenzy he had lacked. Alina seems to be just as perplexed and then Helena notices he’s awake. Helena begins to barrage him with questions as if he knew any of the answers and shoos her away in an attempt to bugger off. This only seems to further her frustration and she goes on to ranting about something about the ritual not going as planned. Anthony is clearly uninterested, but her voice is getting under his skin. Something about her was oddly familiar. Or maybe he was just to sleepy and everything seemed a little odd.

After a time, she sat down with a thud and holds the book out in front of her as if she could make sense of it that way. As she lowers it in despair, she sees Anthony shaking his hand, as the paper cut was still rather fresh and burning as if it was actually burnt. He looks at her with a sigh and stares into the fire that he had been nursing since last night. Helena seems exasperated and finally seems to give up. She hides her face in her hands. Anthony can’t take the pressure of the depression and asks what she is so upset about. Expecting some kind of snark he prepares himself for another prattling of words. However she only looks sadly at her treasured book and says that something had happened to the book and she didn’t know how to fix it.

Perplexed and without thinking, he bluntly states there’s no reason to be so uppity over a stupid blank book. Helena’s head snaps up at the comment and a look he doesn’t quite understand creeps across her face in a slow but unusual fashion. He states ‘what?’ again to which Alina seems to have a better grip on the situation than her companion. ‘You looked at it?’ To which Anthony shrugs without remorse to his actions. ‘Did you see anything Tell me! Did you see anything?’ He replies no, it was totally blank. Alina and Helena’s eyes meet, their expressions oddly unreadable even to him. Growing angry he stands up and stomps over to Helena and grabs the book from her lap in a fluid movement. Helena gawps at him momentarily like he had done something unholy and quickly meets his height, though a few inches shorter.

Anthony slightly bares his teeth and grits them in his attempt to make his message clear. ‘This damn book is what drove my mother to the brink of madness. This book is the very reason my father left us, and why my mother buried her head in it. It’s the reason for all my problems, and you’re telling me how to fix it?’ Anthony glanced at the fire as an idea struck him. ‘Well, why don’t we just put it out of our minds?’ With a furious pitch, Anthony hurls the book into the flames to which it eagerly seems to begin turning to ash.

‘YOU IDIOT!’ Helena screams at the top her lungs, making Anthony even cringe. She can’t seem to decide to dive in or not, the bonfire is small but large enough to cause a great deal of pain to anyone foolish enough to dive head first into it. ‘NO…OH NO…Do You have any idea what you’ve set in motion?! You IDIOT!’ The fire began to grow intense in heat to the point it hurt being so close. Smoke from the burning pages began to fume into puffs of black smoke, to which the wind seemed to furl and seethe straight into Anthony’s face. He coughed and sputtered as hot air shot through him and made him choke for breath. Then, the light in the sky seemed to dim to that of dusk and though there were no clouds nor rain, low rumbles of thunder could be heard.

‘Oh gods, it’s coming.’ Alina whispered. Anthony continued to swat away at the now billowing stream of black ash and couldn’t seem to get out of its direction. The heat was unbearable, yet he couldn’t seem to get away from it any further than he already was. Helena looked up at the sky with a look of pure fear and put her hands to her mouth as if in mortal confliction of her feelings. The fire had turned a strange color of white and before either one of the women could react, a massive explosion erupted from the pit and blinded anyone who had looked at it directly. Helena and Alina had managed to cover their faces but he was so busy being smothered by smoke he had direct contact with the light it gave off.

‘AGHH MY EYES!’ Anthony screamed through ash and heat as it engulfed him. The eruption had caught Anthony in its wake, and he was covered head to toe in white baleful flames. Helena and Alina stood by in a state of shock momentarily before they realized they were next to a lake full of water. Both of them tried to lead him to the water, but then for some reason, there was none. Like it had been dried up over-night, as if it was drunk by an insatiable god. Anthony continued to burn as they had no way to put out the flame. ‘Roll! Drop and roll you fool!’ Without so much as a moment to think, he flopped to the ground and rolled like crazy. It wouldn’t go out however and the smell of burnt hair and flesh wafted in the air. “Gods, he’s going to burn to death Helena! Do SOMETHING!’ His screaming was getting higher pitched until it sounded like a strange screeching shriek.

Helena seems reluctant but not wishing for an untimely demise for the man, conjures water power from the universe and dumps it on him with force, extinguishing the white flame entirely.

Anthony’s body was smoking despite the water’s ability to ease the fire. He laid flat on his stomach, his clothing a wreck and his entire body looking like it had suffered a great deal of damage. Yet he somehow got to his hands and knees. He couldn’t hardly breathe, and his entire body hurt like hell, but oddly enough he was otherwise not to bad of shape. ‘Ugghh…’ was all he could manage out of a parched throat. It sounded unlike his own. He was still blinded by the explosion so he couldn’t really see anything yet. He heard muffled voices nearby but wasn’t his top concern. He continued to heave dry vomit that refused to be released when he felt a very strange presence in his mind, like it was watching intently and uninterested in assisting at the same time, bubbled to the surface of his writhing thoughts.

His vision started to clear to which he felt, again, the same sort of stare from within, but also something else. He was pretty sure he was seared like a medium rare piece of meat, he could smell it causing him to further be sick. He could sense the two women near him in a state of confusion and yet…he touched his cheek and felt his skin but…it felt cracked like a dried-up river bed. ‘What in the gracious gods…’ He tried to put his thoughts together. He felt like a giant fried piece of chicken and yet he was quite alive but not in pain that should be crippling?

‘He…le…na…’ he said in between gasps of air as he felt his lungs strangely begin to feel much more able to take in fresh air like they were getting bigger and stronger. His chest made several creaking sounds that really unnerved him. He tried to focus everything he could into saying something, anything, to let them know he was somewhat alright. ‘I’m…I’m…’ The words seemed to be getting harder to pronounce. He finally was able to get to his feet despite the two other bodies perfectly able to help him stood there gawking. He hungover slightly, everything feeling quite gross. He could smell everything on him was totally crisped, yet he was somehow not in pain? ‘How is this possible? That white flame…it shouldn’t be possible…’ He heard Helena mutter.

Though his movements were increasingly jerkier, he waved at them as ‘no never mind me’ sort of way and put his hands to his knees to brace himself. He heard some kind of crackling like dry leaves being stepped on under foot, then actually slightly laugh as that was his clothing. ‘This is crazy! Look at him Helena, he’s still alive!’ Was all he heard as his vision finally returned to somewhat normal. He blinked hard several times and could see that every inch of his body was like he had felt earlier. His entire being, from his partially destroyed clothing to his cracked skin like deep crevices in the earth, should’ve been in agonizing pain. He wasn’t bleeding either.

Confused more than worried Helena seemed to have noticed he had regained his sense of his self, albeit slightly incoherent to his situation. Helena looked at him worriedly but also with a resenting growl came with it. ‘Damn it Anthony, what the hell was that about?’ He tried to smile but felt his face not exactly want to move quite that way. ‘Look at you…you’re-’ Alina perked up, and he jerkily turned towards her general direction. ‘I’m…fine…’ he said unconvincingly in a rough, almost growling like mumble. Something was quite wrong, but he had an odd feeling that this wasn’t just a fun accident. He had thrown the book in the fire and then it literally seemed to target him and no one else. Rippling movement seemed to move out of place under his skin.

‘Water…drink…’ He motioned at Helena. He coughed and black flicks he assumed where blood dribbled from his mouth. She promptly brought out a very small glass of liquid from a water canister, to which he held unsteadily then drank in one flick of the wrist. He coughed harshly but felt a little better knowing he was somewhat not a huge charred hunk of meat still standing, alive, and in no pain what so ever. Then as he finished, something in the back of his mind stirred again. It was faint but he could feel eyes on him from somewhere inside his mind, which was what mostly disturbed him. ‘It is time, fledgling.’ Some kind of commanding, booming voice bellowed from inside his head and he slammed his hands to the sides of his head in response, as it nearly deafened him in doing so. Helena looked further worried. ‘What is it? Did something happen?’

‘You will be my Silver Servant. Now…show me your defiance!’ He cringed and groaned in a low tone that he was surprised he could even utter. ‘Oh my gods Helena, get back. Now!’ He wasn’t exactly sure what that was supposed to mean. Did she mean away from him? Why? ‘Fine…just…’ he tried talking over the ringing that clanged in his mental vision as then the world seemed to fall deathly silent. He could see Helena backing away…yet it was if in slow motion. He looked up from the position he had been in when the voice rang out and could hardly believe what he was seeing.

He was wheezing in short forced breaths as movement within his stomach squirmed in tandem. Everything had apparently been placed not only on mute, but everything was also seeming to be either stopped in time or moving so slowly he couldn’t tell the difference really. ‘What the hell?’ He choked out. He barely had a moment of clarity when he saw that he had been clutching his stomach. It seemed his stomach was bulging, his rips snapping as it began to extend through his entire frame, all on its own agenda.

It quickly returned to normal and the sounds and smells and everything else became as it once was just as it had occurred before it had stopped.

With a horrible series of cracking sounds like ceramic plates being rubbed together, he clenched his jaw in expectedness of some sort of pain; it still did not come, but something also still very wrong. It was coming from his skin, almost as if it had become something like a hard surface. He touched his cheek and felt a terrible feeling of what he could only describe as hardened, dead skin like that on the bottom of a foot that had deep cracks in it from being so dry. He then looked at his hand which had the same very thing, thin but deep lines wrapped all around his hands, arms, everything, yet was in no way shape or for actually burned what so ever. Small chunks of what he assumed was his hardening skin would occasionally fall off as he moved, but his shock wasn’t anything compared to their two people’s expressions.

‘What is this?’ Was all he could muster. ‘What’s happening to-‘ he couldn’t finish the sentence as a strange feeling of stretching and pulling began to reverberate under his skin, literally. He winced at the sensation of something other than his skin was moving around and looked at his arms again. They were changing…shifting inside and under the plates of his skin. Grey membranes seemed just under them, and his eyes grew wider as it started to become more and more distorted in shape. He could feel his entire body almost as if, but not exactly, convulsing in rhythm to his heart beat. Every few beats he could feel a change, like it was just waiting for something before it ruptured out of him.

‘Helena…what is happening to me?!’ His voice was rough and distorted like his vocal chords were being tuned like a piano session in progress. Exceptional looks of fear they wore, but Helena, obviously more interested in what was happening to him, was able to speak. ‘You’re the Silver Servant?’ That really didn’t answer what he asked. Yet he heard that same title, ‘Silver Servant’ was it? Then, it happened, as soon as the last thought ran through his mind, he could feel every nerve in his body light up. He stifled a scream as he watched an erratic display of contorting muscle and sinew and what he could only guess as the grey membrane, rupture through the degrading chunks of hardened skin. ‘Don’t fight it! It’ll only kill you Anthony!’

He lurched forward and swayed as his shoulders seemed to rotate abruptly in their sockets and his arms and legs double in bulk and size as the solidified pieces of his burnt skin fell off, revealing some kind of scale-like flesh underneath. He could barely speak as the change overwhelmed him, his natural instincts screaming for him to fight back, make it stop, make it stop. He made several strange poses as he tried to regain some sense of composure, but that was probably the least of his problems about now. He was lengthily undergoing some dramatic issues. Long, three fingered claws burst out of his hands and something like ropey knots of muscle, hair, ran down his back. Then his legs twisted in and out of normal shape into a crooked hind leg like that of some four-legged creature. He gnashed his teeth and his vision wavered in and out of color.

It continued to extend into a very thick, what he could only guess at this point, very long tail that lashed out behind him. He started to spin around slightly as all the momentum was making him dizzy from all the seemingly at random spurts of growth happening all at once. He finally collapsed as the sheer weight of his body over took the strength in his still growing legs. He felt incredibly weak but also confused. Why him of all people have to deal with this?

He tried to rub his face as it started itching, which he dreaded that meant he was becoming a total monster at this point. He could see something of a bump begin to jut from between his eyes but even so, he could feel teeth moving around in their sockets too. He felt compelled to yawn and felt every tooth in his mouth dislodge and fall out, and then dagger sharp knife-like teeth spill into the empty gums they left behind, each one making an audible noise like a peg being shoved through a hole. He gagged as his throat expanded with great force. He laid or rather, dropped to the ground, exhausted and was now several times his original size as a human. His whole form ached, and then spasms still trickled around his settling musculature as he felt dizzy from the experience.

He felt the last few dregs of his human appearance fade away as he could tell the two women looked on horrified at his condition. A gentle feeling of sleep began to tug at him and he eventually, and finally, gave into the darkness.

It was several hours later when he felt something poke him on his nose. It was slightly disorientating as his sight swam in and out of focus on what was in front of him. He then had a very strange desire to snort, as he felt like there was indeed something shoved up his nostrils. He wanted to simply go home and forget all about this problem. ‘He’s waking up.’ He heard Alina say in a distant voice. He could feel his ears twitch which was weird, as that didn’t feel right at all and swivel in her direction. He could tell that he was laying on his side as laying flat on his chest was down right uncomfortable. He felt his lips part in a small sneer but again something felt awfully out of place. ‘Huh. So he was responsible for all that?’ Alina continued to go on about something. ‘What about the house? Was there something there that caused it? He simply couldn’t have caused it, not then.’ Anthony tried swallowing but his neck just seemed to jerk instead.

‘What…’ Or something like that escaped his weirdly shaped mouth. Alina jumped up like he was going to strike her down for simply being near him. ‘Calm down. He may be The Silver Servant, but he’s not even strong enough to lift his head.’ He heard that name again and furrowed his brow to the best of his ability. ‘Silver…Sil-vvv-eerrrr.’ He tried saying it clearer, but the words simply would not form like he wanted. In his head they were perfect sounded but when he voiced them it was like he was just learning to speak. ‘Hey kid,’ he heard a non-mocking voice come from his right to which he again tried to shift his head but felt like he was experiencing vertigo at the same time.

‘You there?’ Helena waved her hand in front of his face, ‘Yesss.’ It sounded more like a hiss than a yes, but close enough. ‘You’re going to be a little, well, unused to this for the time being. You did something kind of stupid throwing that book like a tantrum throwing brat into the fire. Now you’re just going to have to deal with your unique…condition.’ It was said more like question to him. ‘I won’t sugar coat this. You’re not…exactly human now, but you’ll return to normal eventually.’ His brightly shining brown eyes looked at her as he could somewhat see clearly. ‘Huu?’ Anthony still struggled to pronounce anything other than grunts. ‘Oh, yeah, about your little speech problem. It be better if you learn to communicate via the mind. We’ll get to that.’

Feeling some strength returning to him he pulled out an arm from underneath him and it thudded in front of him like an uprooted stump being dropped to the ground. He then lifted his head and straightened his neck as he shook it like a wet dog. Looking down, he was alarmed but getting use to the strange at this point. He wasn’t sure what to make of what he was seeing, but his hand…or what had been a hand, seemed totally not his own. Three tentacle like growths came out of his wrist in the form of two fingers and a thumb, sort of. He looked at it distasteful and half lidded his eyes. His skin was also quite grey, and a thin layer of transparent liquid covered his skin. It really grossed him out more than anything.