Rockwood - Book of the artists.: American artist life, comprising biographical and critical sketches of American artists: preceded by an historical account of the rise and progress of art in America

E veryone stared at me. In the hazy smoke that drifted in from the battlefield just outside my gates, I could see them, their shadowy forms, as they looked at me. On their knees in supplication, the minions gazed up from where they crouched to take in my glory.

My wings had returned to me. They were a magnificent sight stretching out from my back. The colours in the feathers had become richer, deeper, but no less vibrant. I was a glorious parrot on steroids. I stretched the wings in and out, my feet lifting gently from the ground. I could live forever barely touching the soil.

My sword was still at my back, its smooth leather sheath against my naked flesh. I reached for the hilt, and my hair parted magically around it. I gently caressed the handle but left the sword where it was. I was on my lands, there was no need for it here. My hair swirled again to cover the blade.

My hair was longer than ever, it grazed my naked ass as its bulk swirled behind me, caught in a draft that seemed to emanate from my very self. I felt taller, but that was probably just the freshness of my spine. The new bones and sinews singing with excitement as they moved together.

I looked down at my body, my skin was perfect: no blemishes, marks or scars. I delicately touched my face; it was smooth and whole, and over each eye was a thick brow. Reaching into my mouth, I felt my teeth with my fingers. The permanent retainer thing Id had since I was fourteen was gone, as were my crowns. I now had however many teeth youre supposed to have, sitting pretty in my mouth.

I was perfect. I was whole. I was a rock star.

I looked at the crowd. No one made a sound. After the noise of the battle, it unnerved me.

Isnt anyone going to say anything? I called out. Ive just done some pretty serious metamorphic shit over here. No one has a comment?

I could see Noiryn and Benyst by the great doors to my home. Noiryn clung to Benyst like shed seen a ghost, her third eye racing up and down my body. Benysts mouth stretched into a tight thin line. I caught movement in my periphery and spun towards it. The minions gasped. Had it been that fast? I felt a little quicker on my feet than usual but nothing crazy.

My eyes locked on the creature that had moved and I realised it was Spin. He wore a bloodstained apron and held a dark cloth in his hands.

Spin! I started walking towards him, the minions parting before me like a wave. What do you think? I gestured at my perfectness, Pretty great, eh?

Yes, my lady, he bowed, up close I could see the fine lines etched around his eyes. I wonder though, are you all right?

What? I shook my head, my luxurious hair swinging around me. Of course Im alright. Look at me! Spin flinched, was my voice a bit too loud?

Yes, your beauty is clear, he smiled. It just happened so quickly, I wonder if you are okay? If the transition was not too difficult?

I didnt like the look on his face, it looked like pity. The last thing I needed was pity from some grey minion when I looked like a supermodel.

Are you okay? he asked quietly.

Im better than okay, I said quickly. Im disappointed in you, Spin. I thought you of all people could see that.

I spun on my heel and left him there with that weird look on his face.

As I crossed the lawn towards the doors to my home, Noiryn and Benyst stepped aside, Benyst gently pressing Noiryn behind him. I scowled.

You dont need to do that, Benyst. Im not going to hurt her.

You seem edgier than usual; you know she doesnt like that, Benyst practically growled.

Wow, well maybe she can speak up for herself? I looked at Noiryn, are you going to say something?

Phoenix, why are you shouting? she whispered.

Are you kidding me? I laughed, Look at me! I fixed myself, completely fixed myself, I look fucking glorious and obliterated a bunch of bad minions by the way, and everyone is looking at me like Ive lost my mind! I laughed again, it felt like hard bubbles in my chest. What is wrong with you people?

Hey, honey, a soft, gravelly voice reached my ears. Royal had stepped out onto the front steps. How about you go put some clothes on? he smirked, Your gloriousness is a bit too much for us all right now.

Fine.

I brushed past Benyst and Noiryn, then, without thinking, I flew to the top of the stairs. I gasped and looked back at Royal, but it was too dark in the entryway to see his face.

I threw open the door to my room, tossed my sword on the bed and went straight to the wall of mirrors that were my closets.

I was indeed beautiful. More beautiful than I had ever been in my life.

I started to pose before the glass, turning side to side, stretching out my wings to get the best angle to admire myself. My hair moved on its own, there was no breeze in the room and yet it undulated and curled around me subtly, always framing my face just so. I gazed at my curves; my breasts were high and firm, and my ass was rounder and prouder than ever. And my legs! They were long and lean and yet supple through the thighs. Here before me, in the bright reflection of the mirror, was my perfect self.

I heard a soft click as the bedroom door closed and saw Grog and Brog at my feet, reflected in the glass.

Hey, guys! What do you think?

They didnt say anything. Brog tottered a bit as he dug his stony claws into the carpet, the chunk of stone missing from his head was more pronounced in his reflection. Grog looked at me in the glass, I watched him take in every inch of my new body.

You look beautiful, my lady, he said quietly.

Thank you, Grog. Youre the first person to say that, I smiled at myself. Not that I need telling, I look fantastic! Its almost a shame to put clothes on. I winked at the gargoyles, they didnt move. Come on, guys! Say something, please. Ive just been through this amazing metamorphosis, my body is finally back and better than ever, and everyone is acting like Im a freak or something.

It just happened so fast, my lady, Grog said slowly, Its a lot to take in.

You dont look right. The words tumbled quickly from Brogs mouth. Your eyes are too bright. And your face looks funny.

I jerked like Id been slapped. Usually one could count on Brog for some home-spun truth, a bit of honesty wrapped up in a cuddly stone package, but he was saying some crap right now. I stepped up to the glass and looked closely at my face. It was beautiful, the planes of my cheekbones where high and smooth, the arch of my eyebrows subtle and flattering. My lips were full and lush, curved pleasantly into just the hint of a smile, even when I relaxed my face. Were my eyes too bright? No, they sparkled. The roundness was youthful, and the whites of my eyes had never been whiter. My eyes shone like the fucking star I was. I glanced back and saw that Grog and Brog were still staring. I sighed heavily.