The stone glowed and Mika shivered as he felt the transformation ripple through him. However, when the physical change was done he kept holding on and did his best to go further. He had envisioned a stable boy, dirty and naked as he had been before, but more normal in appearance. Well, except for the oversized sexual parts. But a new shape was not enough. He needed it all to change. Could he manage it?
The stone glowed brighter, and Mika struggled to stay focused. Confusing thoughts swirled in his mind - was he a wizard? No, a peasant stable boy. A permanent stable boy, cursed by magic never to age, never to change, content to care for animals and live as a beast himself. The magic rippled outward, altering memories of those around him. He felt strange, then gasped when he saw that he was fading! Mika threw the stone away, but it was too late. There was a crackle of magical energy, and Mika was gone.
Audrey sat up, woken by the sound of a rock hitting the ground. Her eyes widened when she realized it was the magic stone! What was it doing out? Who had thrown it? She scowled, looking around the camp. Everyone looked to be asleep. And everyone was accounted for. She slipped the stone into her bag and returned to her bedroll to get some sleep.
***********
Mika woke at sunrise and stretched contentedly before scrambling up from the pile of soiled straw. He was streaked with old manure and stank of horse piss and shit, sweat, straw, and dirt. It was a good smell to Mika and to the animals around him. Other people did not like it, but he rarely spent any time with other people. Moving towards the feed bins, he began distributing grain to the dozen warhorses that populated the stable. They nuzzled and lipped at him in greetings, the ritual familiar and pleasant. He had been here a very long time - long enough to have seen young colts mature into stallions and then be released from old age several times. But he kept them well fed and groomed, and their stalls clean as long as they were here. He liked serving the animals, mucking stalls, polishing tack. He could not comprehend doing anything else with his life, and though he had vague memories of being someone else, of being a young wizard, he did not dwell on them. This was the life he wanted, enforced by powerful magic that had not only removed the existence of Mika the Wizard from the minds of all that had known him, but altered Mika himself so that he would always be a perfect stableboy.