"I..."
The all looked at Ian expectantly. Now that it came down to it, he seemed reluctant to actually make his request. Indeed his face was flushing in embarrassment.
"Come on, man!" encouraged Evan. "We're all friends here; nobody's gonna judge you!"
"Not even if it's something lame, like asking for a girlfriend," added Caden with a snicker. Ian rolled his eyes.
"What would be lame about that? But, no... it's not that..." He fingered his button-down shirt nervously. Took a deep breath. Locked his eyes squarely on Pat, as if to block out everything else. And Pat suddenly realised what the wish was a second before Ian spoke.
"I want to be my fursona, Aranor."
"Dude!" burst out Evan. "You're a furry!?" Caden just blinked, then glanced at Evan, trying to put together what he was hearing.
Even among them, Pat was the only one who had known about Ian's involvement in the furry fandom. He'd seen the art of Aranor, even an adult reference sheet. Aranor had a whole world constructed around him, slowly refined over the course of several years since Ian discovered that there were other people like him. It had made Pat a little envious -- not really in a bad way, he just wished he were as creative.
And now he held the power to make Ian's fantasies reality.
I wonder... maybe I could even make his whole world real... Araetha. That's what he called it. But for now --
"You can do it, right Pat?" Ian's eyes bored into him. He was completely focused on him, ignoring the other two, not even looking at the glowing rock.
"Only one way to find out." Pat took a deep breath of his own. "I wish that Ian was his fursona, Aranor."
They all blinked as Ian's clothes pulled off of him in glowing streamers. They heard him suck in a breath, then groan in pleasure, arching his back a little as the hair on his chest and limbs thickened and spread, turning into soft fur, white down his front, black on his arms and lower legs, green everywhere else. His human hair grew out until it reached his hips, a silken cascade of black touched with a green shine. Thick bangs framing his facet;
A face that quickly morphed into a long, handsome muzzle. His eyes brightened from green to gold, his pupils tapering off slightly, while his ears shifted to poke through his hair as delicate black-tipped green triangles. Below, his tailbone split and two large, fluffy green tails grew out, ending in white bordered by rings of black.
And -- most visible to Pat who stood in front of him -- his human maleness grew erect, larger and longer; thicker at the base, pointed at the tip, while the sack underneath hung heavier. Pat found his eyes locked on the magnificent organ until it began to retreat back into a newly-formed sheath. Then he shook his head slightly, hoping none of the other boys had noticed where he had been looking. Ian certainly hadn't: his eyes had closed and his mouth parted in an expression of almost religious ecstasy.
Beneath the fur, his muscles firmed up, six-pack and pectorals becoming clear although he remained lean, almost slender in build. His legs also gained in mass while shifting with soft pops into a digitigrade stance on large paws. Dark green pads and black claws became visible on his hands as well.
Last of all, the swirling ribbons of light came back together, fusing into a long, white short-sleeved robe or coat, decorated with black blossoms and branches, billowing for an instant in the subsiding magic. A black sash hung from his right shoulder to his left hip, where a long, sheathed katana materliased.
"Ahhhh." Ian breathed out a long sigh, a sound of deep, heartfelt satisfaction. He opened his eyes, looking down at himself, at his clawed hands, turning them over in awed appreciation. Then he looked back at Pat with a smile.
"Thank you so much, Pat," he said in a voice that was smoother and a little deeper than it had been. He bowed slightly in gratitude. Then he chuckled. "Well, look at that. I'm taller than you again."
"Y-yeah..." Pat was having a true trial not to look back down at his friend's furry crotch. The long coat was now settling below Ian's hocks, but it was open all down the front, leaving the satiny white sheath and ballsack in full view.
"But seriously," continued Ian, oblivious to the discomfort his exposure was causing not just to Pat but to the blushing Evan, "I owe you. This is... this is too wonderful for words." He put his hands on his chest, feeling his muscles like Pat had wanted to. "I am Aranor -- I remember the events in his backstory like they really happened to me. I know how to fight. I know magic!" His excitement began to break into his measured voice. "I know Arannese -- the language I invented for him! I know -- ah, ha."
Whatever "knowledge" he had just brought to mind had caused a red tip to poke back out of his sheath, and this brought his attention to the reactions of his friends.
"Haha, sorry guys. Nudity is normal in Aranor's -- in my culture." He pulled a slender leaf from a deep pocket. It glowed, and then it morphed into another sash that he tied around his waist to hold the coat closed.
"Uh-huh." Caden cocked his head. "Can't say I mind much... you're surprisingly easy on the eyes for a big furball."
"Thank you, Caden," Ian said, his smirk looking much more devious, and somewhat dangerous, on his foxy muzzle. He looked at Evan. "What's wrong, friend? Kitsune got your tongue?"
"Ha ha," Evan managed, folding his arms. "Jesus, man... Okay, I admit it's cool and all, but... what does this mean for..." He waved his hand vaguely. "You can't just walk around as a two-tailed green fox! Or... can you?" He frowned. "Is everyone just going to think you've always been this way?"
"Well, actually, when walking among humans, Arannese kitsune adopt human form. Like so."
He snapped his fingers. There was a literal puff as smoke obscured him, and when it cleared, Ian stood in his place, the same as before -- except that there was a new confidence in his posture.
"Eh, show-off," teased Evan. The transformed kitsune stuck his tongue out at him.
"So, to everyone else, I'm still 'Ian.' But inside, I'm Aranor."
"You want us to call you Aranor?" Caden asked, curious. Ian considered.
"I hadn't thought of that... keep calling me Ian for now. If it starts to feel too strange to me, I'll let you know. Ha." He shook his head. "You know, Aranor is 32 years old... Now I feel like I'm just masquerading as a teenager. It's going to be weird to go through the motions of my old life."
"I could change you back," suggested Pat. Again he felt a little jealous at Ian's casual display of magic, and felt compelled to remind them what he could do.
"Never," answered Ian firmly. "I've wanted this all my life. It may be weird to pretend to be human, but there is no way I'm giving this up."
Pat nodded. Then he turned to Caden. "Your turn." He held up the rock. "Your wish is my command."
"Are you gonna turn into a magic furry too?" asked Evan, slouching against the wall.
"Got a secret thing for 'em?" teased Caden.
"You wish!"
"Famous last words," interjected Ian, reverting to his kitsune form and taking a seat in one of the deck chairs they had set up. His tails slid through the gap in the back, and swept idly across the floor.
"Haha, yeah, good thing you're not the one with the magic rock." Caden turned back to Pat, decision on his face. "Actually, I'd like you to turn me into..."
What?