The longer I stood in the Eldorian dining hall, the more I understood the allure behind the practice of sorcery that had led many to be utterly obsessed with the craft. Thanks to a mysterious associate of Zastan's from the dark parts of Eldoria that I didn't know existed, I'd partaken in the craft myself. I could now roam this foreign kingdom freely and carry out the mission I was here for. I stared down at my hands, still fascinated by their appearance. The softness expected of a princess was gone, replaced by hands whose hardness evidenced a history of chores the young maiden's body I embodied had taken on.
Someone bumped into me. Whoever they were, however, had disappeared by the time I looked up, a reminder of the amazing ability to embody another being and easily pass as that person
