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There's a tale in Cicada. They say there is a great warrior, hidden away, waiting for the right time to return, for the time when the rains return. And like all good tales, it has a kernel of the truth.

The village is small, little more than a hub for local farmers to come together. Most maps don't bother to show it. Few understand why it is there. Those who ignore the legend assume it was just for the spring nearby.

The name is a reference to the warrior, of course. And the town came up around them, not the other way around. In spite of what the older folks tell you, the warrior has yet to defend this town.

Many wrongly assume the statue in the square is the warrior. A purposely encouraged mistake, to hide the truth. Some who dive deep into the history believe they are the gnarled dogwood tree that has lasted far beyond its time. Another lie I told before we installed the statue.

The town came to be when farmers would see me, checking on my old friend. They'd walk over and start to chat and catch a drink. Soon, it became the place to meet, even when I wasn't there.

They knew a bit, pieced together from my visits, and realized I was visiting a friend, transmogrified long ago. Generations came and went, details were lost or changed. Some were made up. I quit correcting them.

Now, all this time later, I came back, storm clouds following me. I kept ahead of them, but not too far. I was terrified they'd break, or veer off. This land had been cursed, long before, to be a desert. No rain, no water, as a punishment for our actions. It was supposed to be forever. It certainly felt like it had been forever.

But I had done it. I had outdone our old gods. I had finally broken the curse. A storm was coming. Rains to water the land.

Those who knew my goal laughed at me. Why fight for rain when our lands had the water we needed? The spring gave us more than enough.

Each home I passed, farmers were hurrying, boarding up windows and battening down the hatches. As I came through the town, people were panicked, terrified of change. I came to the edge of the spring and I waited. I waited for the rains. I watched them cross the sky.

I had used the stone, all this time, to do my work, to reach my goals. She'd told me to take it. She didn't want any temptation to come back early. But I knew she felt it all. Every day passing, every bucket of water pulled, every plant and person growing from her sacrifice.

As the first drops fell on us, I dropped the stone back in the spring.

I just want to add, I really loved this prompt. Thanks for sharing.

Bursting from the tunnel, a neon urban skyline tumbles into view.

"Barbara, you need to send me those documents to my sat-chip immediately. I'm approaching the meet up location."

"On it Reese, stand by two minutes."

"Roger."

Reese is a woman dressed in a trim and proper suit. Business like, but with the stylized synthetic fringes that had become popular in recent years. Her build is defined, a square face with auburn hair and eyes.

Reese is not Reese.

Reese is also Yun. And Karthik. And Kristina, Diego, the walls, every plant.

But who is Reese really? It's forgotten itself. After the Rock of Transmogrification was unearthed during a routine drone sweep of a nearby moon nearly two decades ago, it has allowed the user to change into just about anything. It took some time to figure out, that's for sure. For the first five years, the discoverer had inadvertently turned into a book, laying on a shelf until a curious reader turned the pages and was shocked to see pleas for help written on the pages before their eyes. Because the discoverer had lost contact with the rock by dropping it when turning into a book, they had been trapped in their transmogrified state.

With this artifact in their control, the Federal Government has been able to effectively dominate all forms and espionage with their rivals, essentially securing the throne as the chief galactic power. The operator was chosen fifteen years ago. It was a rigorous process, and even after the "perfect" candidate was found and the rock surgically implanted, extensive cybernetic modifications were performed to ensure athleticism, longevity, and control.

However, in recent years, other regional players have become aware of the Rock of Transmogrification. It is a highly desirable tool.

"I've received and reviewed the files Barbara, thank you. My transportation will arrive at it's destination in thirty seconds."

"Understood Reese. Remember, you are to meet with these diplomats in room 17A. On your way out, you will move to the bathroom and transmogrify into a split: one umbilical decoy of yourself to walk out of the door, and one spider to spy on any further diplomatic proceedings."

If connected by an underground umbilical of any kind, the holder of the Rock, can split into as many entities as they would like, although research had shown that their is a total mass limit.

"Barbara, I have received and reviewed the files."

Barbara sighed. "Just doing my job Reese. Good luck."

Reese stepped off of the craft onto the landing platform. She was now in the mountains. The cream colored building resembled a church and was proportionately tall to it's width, with flying buttresses coated in gold supported it's weight. Large windows filtered light through the trees from the sunny day into the atrium. Reese walked inside.

"Good afternoon miss. Appointment?"

"Yes. I am to attend a diplomatic meeting in room 17A."

"Ms. Reese?"

"That is correct."

"Wonderful, down that hall, third door on your right."

"Thank you."

Exchanging pleasantries, Reese had an extensive discourse with the diplomats. One portly man in the room was stealing glances at her throughout the meeting. She had become used to the male gaze when she transmogrified into a woman.

"Gentlemen, thank you for your thoughts. It was a pleasure, yet our appointed time has run out. I must take my leave."

Reese walked confidently to the bathroom. She had performed this sort of information espionage countless times in her career. Inside a stall, she split into the spider and Reese. She felt something from the Rock implanted within, a sort of glowing happiness. Reese noticed that when performing anything from spying to assassinations, she could feel an almost devilish delight emanating from the Rock. It was like it reveled in the tribulations of man.

Now split into two, the spider crawled through the ductwork into the meeting room. Reese simultaneously shared a amicable goodbye with the receptionist.

Getting closer, the spider was able to assemble distant murmurings into coherent speech.

"We need to capture it! The Federal Government has oppressed us for- Ah, hello there. Ms. Reese was it? We've been expecting you."

The spider recoiled in shock. In rapid succession, a glass cup was placed over it, which was slipped into a dense plastic box, and a dense netting was tossed over it.

Outside, Reese was tackled and covered in the same netting.

Backing away, the portly diplomat laughed an evil laugh.

"Surprised? You arrogant fools at the Federal Government think you are invincible! But we knew better. Ever since we found out the about the existence of the Rock three years ago, our scientists have been perfecting methods to contain you... and extract the rock."

Screaming with terror, Reese changed. She changed into a trumpeting elephant, the spider changed into a bull. Every possible permutation of reality, the holder of the Rock morphed and cried out. But it was useless. In a brief moment of defeated stillness, what was once Reese felt a jab.

Looking up with reality fading to black, a masked and gowned scientist held a glowing blue saw. The Rock burned with delight.

Thank you.

I like the approach in your story. I'd prefer elaboration instead of a story with a surprise sacrifice, where we don't even get to see the result. To me, this is kind of an outline. A good outline though. Thank you for the story!

Interesting! And well written. My only niggle is "pleas for help written on the pages before their eyes". How did that get written? And when?

Than you the story!

Glad you thought it was interesting and thanks for the critique. I meant to say that because the holder of the rock can transmogrify into anything, the person who turned into the book was transmogrifying new words onto it’s pages when they realized they had the chance to communicate with a reader.

But since the book person dropped the rock, it’s a hole in the logic.

That's what i figured. I like the idea though. Maybe that's another prompt. :)

I think it’s perfect as a short story, kept me guessing till the end maybe cuz I’m dumb lol and the reveal was succinct without need for elaboration.

Fair enough. Vive la dif·fé·rence!

No, no, I insist you take it from me. I don't want to change back. Don't you realize? Having transformed into my true fursona, I have made my inner self visible. Sure, I may be more and less than human now, and I will certainly face more problems than the ones I had, but this is all I ever wanted here on Earth.

What? AnthroCon? Guest of Honor? Wait, we're seriously sending this thing to all the furries in the world? You do realize that... Okay, okay, got it. Yeah, that might just work. Transmogrify into more Rocks of Transmogrification, transmogrify back into yourselves from those rocks...for free? Seriously? You... Ok, wow, you actually just did it. And now there's a lot of you in this room. I... I'm going to step outside. This could get messier than a chessboard of rice.

Someone's just playtesting their homebrew D&D artifact. All right, I'll bite. Is there a way to get it out afterwards, and can you control when you get it out or do you just take a dump at some point and find yourself stuck in the form you were in unless you can grab the rock?

C smiles over the desk at F, “You’ve done your homework?”

F nods, “I have. I understand all the changes I want to make.”

“And you remembered not to make your changes too different from your current self?”

F nods again, “I have. I’ve thought long and hard about this.”

C smiles again, “So has everyone we’ve invited to use it. You’ve seen the video footage, and we’ve done our background checks. There’s just one more thing.”

F nods desperately, “What is it?”

“You need to sign this contract stating that you will never reveal how you got your changes. We will provide you with documents proving you went to a surgeon in Taiwan.”

F nods, and holds out their hand for a pen. They don’t even read the contract before they sign. C sighs and shakes their head, even if they did, they’d still sign. Standing up, C leads F to a room covered in mirrors, except for one floor tile that has the edge of a glowing red rock protruding from it.

C looks at F, “Strip, and put your foot on the rock there. It’s easier to see what you’re doing that way. You’ll have one hour to make your changes. In 90 days time, we’ll give you the opportunity to make further changes. Do you understand?”

F nods, and starts stripping before C has even turned away. C can’t help but see the Caucasian skin as they hurry back to the desk. So many of them are like this. So eager to get out of their own bodies that they forget why they have anonymity procedures in place. Not that it actually protects them from C if they wanted to know. But at least C has set it up so they have to check first.

Turning back to their desk, C opens their laptop and starts looking through the transgender, intersex, and body dysmorphia groups looking for those desperate enough to take a gamble.

It’s nearly an hour later when F comes out of the room on their own, and C closes their laptop before banging their head against the desk.

“F, the requirement to looks similar to your previous self were put in there for your protection, not ours.”

C pretends not to notice as F slides some of her red hair under the head mask, “I know, and I did. But I…”

C nods, “I understand, I really do. At least you’ve kept things in the realm of human variation. Unlike the notable man, who went from five foot nothing to six foot four, and over 18 inches.”

F nods, “I remember that on TV, he was sent to a mental hospital.”

C nods again, “Yes, we were unable to provide his follow-up appointment. If you wish, for an extra £15,000 we can arrange for your hospital visit to be extended until your follow-up, and provide you with a temporary identity in another country.”

F looks down, “What if I wanted to stay like this, or didn’t want to go back.”

C’s heart sinks, but they say compassionately, “If that’s the case, we can offer you a trans-dimensional move to a new life. There you will be contracted to work for our organisation for 10 earth years, and you will be trained in the use of magic and any other skills you need. If you prove yourself, you may even be assigned to help other people like you.”

F nods, “I’ll take it. I never want to go back to there.”

C nods, and indicates the door behind F, “If you go through there, T will guide you through the forms and contracts you need to sign.”

As F leaves the room, C sighs and takes off her own head mask. Standing up, she makes her way over to an unassuming tile on the wall and traces a glyph. Smoothly, a section of floor falls away into a staircase that she walks down before reaching behind the stairs and flicking a switch on the underside of the floor she was just on. Making her way along a short corridor, past the laser tripwires she just turned off.

Reaching the room below the changing room, she removes a glove and carefully pricks her finger to allow 2 drops of blood to fall on the large glyph on the floor. Then she walks over to the large pillar and disengages the mechanism that’s not just holding it up, but also triggers the explosives built into the floor of the room above. As the pillar lowers into the floor, she looks at the glowing red rock that took her 1,000 years to create. Picking it up, she briefly shifts so that her chest opens up, before placing the rock back into it’s proper place as her heart.

As she makes her way back up the stairs, her form flows as her skin takes on a reddish tone, and her hair turns black. Wings grow from her back, along with a thin tail. After closing the floor she creates a glowing red portal, before turning back to the room, “Only two years, 47 days, and 15 hours to go. At least time passes faster here.”