Kyrena shrugged. “Well, there is nothing like a classic. And there will always be a use for swords. Let’s get started.”
The glow of Kyrena’s hand intensified. A strange heat filled the girl on the anvil, and the stone hummed with arcane energy.
Arianna struggled against her bonds in vain. “No! Stop!”
It was too late, however. All at once, the heat grew unbearable, and Arianna threw back her head to scream only to lose all sensation in her body. While this was a relief, she felt terrified of what it could mean. The world around her had gone dark and silent. To be more accurate, she had gone blind and deaf. For a while, her consciousness floated in a sea of nothing, and she began to fear she had died.
Suddenly, sensation returned, though it felt very different than before. For one thing, her point of view had changed. Kyrena still stood over her, but her hand now hovered over Arianna’s vision, and seemed far larger than before. In fact, everything looked huge! Meanwhile, she could not sense her limbs anymore, or even a human body. Instead, she became aware of herself as a sword. A blade took up most of her length, while a guard and sturdy hilt balanced out the rest of her mass.
“Well, I must say,” Kyrena said, lowering her hand with a grimace. “I am a bit disappointed with the result, princess.”
What was she talking about? Arianna wondered.
“I suppose the fault is mine. I assumed a beauty so widely renowned would produce an equally beautiful blade, but it seems the soul holds more influence on your form than your body, and might I say, your Highness, your soul has much to be desired from the looks of it.”
Arianna saw the world lurch as she was picked up and brought over to the mirror that still hovered nearby. In its reflective surface, she saw her new form for the first time. As a royal princess, even one who never had to sully her hands with the dirty business of war, she had seen her fair share of swords, from the humble weapon of the peasant to the refined ceremonial sword of the king himself. The sword in the mirror, though, looked worse than any of them. Plain and dull, lacking in any sort of adornment or even a clean edge, it reminded her of the sign hanging over the swordsmith’s door to advertise his trade, merely a hunk of metal fashioned to suggest a sword rather than an actual sword. With great reluctance, she had to agree with the elf. She was hideous.
“Ah well, if nothing else, you are clearly magical. I may be able to fetch a decent price, if I can find someone desperate enough.”
Clearly magical? What did she mean? Arianna took a second look at herself. It occurred to her that she did seem a bit different from a normal inanimate object. While still made of metal, she exuded a sort of warmth about her, a feeling of life like one would get when observing a seashell or a tree branch. Inert but alive. A still proud part of her felt a bit of relief that she was not entirely unremarkable, but it was scant comfort in present circumstances.
Princess Arianna was no more. She had become nothing but an ugly sword.