The cradle chamber - unique silver elf

'I've already picked a new name for myself. I'm Torvic, nice to meet you.'

Upon hearing my new name, the goddess who was spouting a stream of words that for sure weren't friendly, suddenly stopped. I hoped that it was a good sign, but the following message she sent was soaked with something ethereal - something that made me fear for my new life as if she was about to flush me back into the river of souls:

'You dare to use that name?!'

'W-well,' I quickly cut in to explain, convinced that otherwise, it would lead to a very grave misunderstanding. 'I actually wanted to go with Victor, to remind myself that I won't lose in my second life, but it wasn't elf-like enough, so I modified Vic-tor into Tor-vic. But it was just a silly idea, let me know if you have a better one.' This though was formed and sent in record time.

For a long while, I listened carefully. But other than the various subtle sounds produced by the morphing body and an occasional gas bubble making its way through the liquid, I didn't hear anything that could help to ascertain the situation.

Until the goddess broke both the telepathic and verbal silence.

"Crea." 'Crea.' She gave me her name, her tone was devoid of the previous threat, but for sure it wasn't close to the friendly one she was using before. 'That's the name you can call me with. And yours is Victor. It has saved you once already. A good sign that the victorious meaning behind it may actually bring us all good luck. But you're right, it's not very 'elf-like', that's why your surname will be Yelvesfor.'

'Victor Yelvesfor, not bad, yet it's kind of strange...' I repeated the full name a few more times in my mind, shuffled it a little, separated into three, and it quickly became apparent why that name felt somehow wrong. There was a message contained within it. '… seriously? Can we rethink it, please?'

With a name like that, I would become a living symbol of elven supremacy, something I would prefer to avoid since I actually wanted to get along with other races.

'No. You're the ignorant who wanted to have a meaningful name, right? This is a perfect one, no need for any modifications. And it fits the role I've prepared, you will get used to it.' Crea's inner voice left no room for further negotiations.

That didn't mean I wasn't looking for a way to change her mind. But then, a wild revelation made it much easier to accept my 'meaningful name'.

One, the bodies my sister and I were going to use were made by Crea.

Two, she was also the person who named me.

Three, it seemed that she had already planned my future for me.

Didn't that mean that she was my mother?

... though I probably shouldn't call her 'mom'.

When my mind was submerged in thoughts about possible family ties to the elven goddess and the following implications, my body finished changing. The cocoon opened like a flower bud, spilling the contained fluid all around.

"____ __ ___." Crea said something ominous, but I was too busy to pay it much attention. All bodily functions were switching on, one after the other, flooding my mind with a sea of stimuli. I had to re-learn how to use a body, an entirely different model on top of that.

The hearing and sight were already working when I found myself in this body, at least that was the false impression I had. Only now, kneeling naked among the cocoon's remains, I was given a taste of their full potential. If I focused a little, I could easily hear my and Crea's beating hearts, the slowly shifting roots covering the floor of this chamber, and the quiet melody of twirling souls - easily pinpointing which one of them belonged to my sister. Getting used to so many diverse background noises would take some time, but it shouldn't be much different from learning how to ignore the ticking of a clock.

As for the sight. Who would have thought that a simple wet root could be so interesting and intricate! Not only my brain was registering an enormous amount of data about various little details that would otherwise be filtered out by a human's one. I was able to distinguish between a broader range of different shades of the same color. A seemingly small change, but it made everything look so different. No wonder my sister had been irritated by my poor reaction to her collection of breathtaking memories, the world she perceived was more gorgeous than the one I saw.

Unfortunately, it also confirmed her theory that souls had races. One's body shaped one's mind, to the point of leaving a mark upon the latter that remained even after death, causing the mind unable to break free from the limitations it used to have in life.

This also explained the improvement in the quality of my memories, a process which was started by the growing soul bond with my sister. Her mind had better specs than mine, and she lent me some of her computing power. Then it was finalized by my new body. I was quite sure that this change couldn't be reversed. My mind permanently shifted from that of a human into a silver elf's one.

My very soul was 'converted'.

But the smell and some of the other senses… I had mixed feelings about those. It could be summarised as: a more sensitive body equaled more pleasure and more pain. As for the rest, like strength and agility, I would have to carry out various tests to check where my limits lied before concluding anything.

All of those thoughts were produced in the time it took me to take two deep breaths, another nice perk of the increased processing speed. Now, it was time to see Crea's reaction, I was sure that the body turned out exactly as I wanted it to - a cool and handsome silver elf.

Good that I saw my sister in her memories and learned about the most important features a silver elf should have.

I slowly stood up, a bit unsteadily, still not used to all those changes, looked at the goddess, and… instantly stopped marveling about the wonders of my new body and other non-critical matters.

There was an enormous wolf, frozen in mid-air with a widely open maw full of sharp fangs, half step away from tearing off my head. The front of its body was fully formed out of constantly shifting mass of wind mana, while the rear gradually lost its form until it was no different from a leash coiled around Crea's outstretched arm. The beast made no noise as if the sound around it was being removed, providing the hunting predator with the additional stealth factor.

A good spell for sudden and silent assassinations.

I didn't move, not because I didn't want to, but I just couldn't. There was something in the unreal eyes of that beast that froze all my muscles with primal fear. This feeling of dread was additionally enhanced by the realization that Crea, who I secretly wanted to give the title of my mother, was either trying to scare me to death or was actually about to kill me.

Escape was impossible, it took all I had just to stand up with this new body. My only options were to fight against the fear, stop the incoming tears, and pray that it was some kind of a test. Otherwise, it made no sense.

She wouldn't give me a new body just to take it away a moment later, right?

"___ _____ ____ _______." Said Crea. This time her tone was different, slightly confused and strangely happy. It didn't sound as if she was asking for my last words.

*****

"Time to die." Said Crea ominously when the cocoon opened and revealed the naked form within.

She instantly sprang into action, wanting to destroy something that should be no different from a hideous abomination. At least the reason behind his mistaken use of that name was acceptable; otherwise, his fate would be much worse than being torn to shreds by the air wolf.

But the elf in front of her wasn't anything like a deformed lump of meat she had imagined.

Victor's body was that of a silver elf, it had to be - the cradle was incapable of creating anything else. There was no point in spending resources on making the bodies of normal elves who were only slightly better than humans, and the golden ones were too complicated to grow them like vegetables.

But she never saw a silver elf like that.

Crea's original identity was that of a male, and like any other elven male, she had gone through the period called 'gender crisis' during which every known method was used to make Vertuel look like a proper man instead of a pretty boyish girl. She learned firsthand how impossible of a task that was.

Firstly, the muscles. Elves weren't known for their physical strength. No matter how much training was put into it, they would never develop anything more than a slightly underlined musculature. Yet right now, in front of her, stood the first example of a well-built elf, and it wasn't the overly muscular human type, or the vulgar orc type, or the stoutly dwarven type. It was the perfectly balanced, muscular yet slim type. The maiden part of her heart skipped a beat when she saw all those captivating shapes. She nearly wanted to check if those strong-looking biceps were more springy or hard, and that clear six-pack… if only her male self could have a one like that.

Secondly, the face. Just how… how did he make himself look so handsome? He lacked the prominent lips, delicate nose, bewitching expression, and the overall alluring features - each and every one of those was replaced with its attractive masculine counterpart. But neither it was the face of an adult man. It had a boyish charm and rakish look, a combination that made him seem youthful, adventurous and brave, yet it wouldn't be strange to find him playing with kids.

Nevertheless, the body would be a failure if it was too removed from that of an elf. But it wasn't. His skin tone was pale without any blemishes, the eyes were bloody red and full of murder, the hair was the silverest shade of silver she ever saw. All three main features of a silver elf were present in top shape.

Although Victor's hair was short and unruly, a haircut that was frowned upon in the elven community, it only made him look better. His height could use a few centimeters more, but it wasn't that bad. With slightly over a meter and eighty, he was about her height.

In Victor's case, there was one more thing, the strangest part that somehow fitted perfectly with the rest - completely disregarding the elven common sense. He had slim, long pointy ears, ones that would make any elven girl green with envy. Moreover, underneath the skin in the corners of his forehead were patches of mesmerizing silver scales. The two main features that allowed to recognize the elven gender easily, screamed that this handsome guy was, in fact, a girl.

Crea had to take a few additional looks at the area between Victor's legs to ascertain herself that he didn't change his gender by mistake. Albeit a bit shrunken from fear, the indicator was there. But… Victor lost this match against Vertuel.

However, this gender contradiction didn't cause him to be a freak of nature. On the contrary, it gave him a mystique aura. He would very easily stand out among the others, turning the head of every elven girl in the world. On top of that, instead of earning the hostility of elven males, he would still share their burden of being mistaken for a girl, and such a heavy one at that!

"Who would have thought." Said Crea in a slightly confused and strangely happy tone.

Crea saw a seed of potential, one that might sprout and turn the stray human soul that somehow ended in this place into a real victory for elves. She silently took back all the insults thrown at him, ready to forget even about his ignorant attempt to desecrate that important name, not many would have a heart big enough for that. She also decided to try and stop herself from thinking of Victor as a dirty mongrel… or at least make sure that he would never find out.

"Damn… unique, never heard of, easily draws attention, not overly manly, a fine representative of silver elves, and the most of all - perfectly flawed. This may actually work way better than expected… if the girl could somehow equal his uniqueness without clashing with it… it's worth giving a try." Murmured Crea and canceled the halted air wolf spell.

The figure in front of her started to retreat very slowly, watching her closely in case she made any sudden moves.

'Don't' mind it. Just a simple test of courage, you passed.' She sent him a bright, full of kindness message. 'Come, let's get you some clothes first. Then it's your sister's turn… say… what do you think about giving her a little help with making the body? You seem to have a knack for it.'

This message helped Victor to calm down. He was relieved that it was just as he thought, Crea only wanted to scare him. Probably in order to show a part of her power and prevent from having any stupid ideas.

'Actually, I'm even better at creating female characters.'

'Perfect.'