Chapter 6: Appearances

Jack gritted his teeth, still trying to stay conscious through the torment of having his heart 'played with'.

The sound of his teeth grating on one another attracted the goddess's attention. "Good, struggle! If you can remain awake through this transformation, you will be able to grasp your new form more readily."

Hearing her word Jack managed to gasp out, "Ca... n you sh... sh... show me?" And wordlessly, a shard of reflective matter appeared on the goddess's left.

Jack got a good look at his new body. Skeletal, with delicate boyish features, and his skin and hair the palest tone of ash white, only further drawing attention to his dark red eyes rimmed with black and flecked with gold.

Simply put, he looked like an anime character brought to life.

"First, let's see what we've got to work with... hum," Boethiah said, twisting Jack's heart ever so slightly, sounding along with a squelch, a shuddering scream.

Boethiah let out a sadistic smirk.

"Ah, here we go." With another squelching jerk, Jack felt his body change. And glancing over the reflective shard, the ghastly visage of an adolescent vampire lord was depicted upon its surface.

"Hideous!" Jack shouted out, sheer instinctive revulsion temporarily making him forget the pain.

"Quite so," the malignant goddess seemingly finding satisfaction in Jack's reaction.

"Pathetic wings, requiring the aid of magic to be of any use, that dumb brute... Feathers, yes. And make them a little longer. Wider."

In the shard's reflection, Jack's stunted, bat-like wings gradually morphed into something akin to an angel wing's, or more aptly, a fallen angel's wings, with pitch-black feathers replacing the taught skin hide.

"A disgusting form; in his retched image. I will revert what is not of use back to your original fleshy frame."

The ugly distortion of putrid grey receded, leaving Jack with the fangs, claws, horns, and a more compact version of the additional musculature of a vampire lord.

"Humm, but the flesh is weak now, prone to damage... Ah, bone, an exoskeleton."

Bone tore through flesh, and Jack let out the scream he had been suppressing as his vessel changed under Boethiah's tinkering. Now, interconnected with his original skeleton, he sported a sort of scale-like amour, protecting his soft innards.

"The bone should be malleable with practice..." Boethiah stated, pulling her hand out of Jack's chest as bone and flesh grew anew, sealing the rupture.

Jack gasped and sputtered as the torture-like alteration of his vessel finally came to an end. He then gawked, entranced by the reforged reflection in the shard. Depicted in it was a cross between a classic vampire and a fallen angel; his appearance was damn near bewitching.

"A Valkire, " Boethiah declared almost proudly, her words naming her creation and breaking Jack out of his entrancement. "I have already woven my blessing in with the curse, and so with that, we are done here."

"Can you tell me what exactly..." Jack began to question the goddess, but before he could finish speaking, she made a swatting motion, "Begone mortal, my part is done, and I have no interest in answering your petty queries."

Jack found himself flying backwards, and behind him, a portal once again spawned, connecting Boethiah's plane of Oblivion to Mundus.

Hurling through the air, he flew through the portal and ploughed into the snow, leaving a long ditch in his way. With a thunk, he eventually came to a stop, his winged back hitting off the not so soft side of a mountain.

"Oof, you didn't have to throw me!" Jack roared as he sat up; before quickly remembering 'who' exactly it was he was shouting at, "huh, never mind."

Jack was back at the statue of Boethiah in Skyrim. Standing up, he patted himself off, his bones being the only 'clothing' protecting his 'modesty' from the biting cold.

Just as he managed to gather his wits about him, a dull sense of pain suddenly perforated his back as a dagger pierced directly through the layer of protective bone and scratched at his back.

"Who are you, " Cicero sang playfully.

A shiver went down Jack's spine as his hands went up in surrender, "It's me, Cicero." Jack choked out fearfully, realizing instantly how stupid his reply was. How was Cicero supposed to know who 'he' was; he looked completely different.

A tense moment passed.

"Pff, hahaha. Got you, hahaha," Cicero chortled to himself, falling back and rolling around in the snow.

Jack let out a sigh of relief before turning and facing the mad jester, "how did you know it was me?" He questioned, to which the jester replied, "The listener has such distinctive, delicious-looking eyes, how could Cicero forget?"

A stern expression unfurled on the previously jovial jester's face, "but enough of that, we can't leave mother dearest waiting any longer."