A veritable rainbow of pixies flitted above a set stages, each of which shaped to be facsimiles of boxing rings. These rings were each set up in a series of mirrored columns. There was a single stage in the center with two other stages flanking it on either side. There were yet another two sections attached to each of those—resulting in a total of thirteen platforms. Every one of these impromptu arenas was marble coated, a swirl of colors through the tile to highlight the event's magical nature—as if the pixies constantly flying overhead weren't enough. The pixies covered the view from above, the sides belonged to a booming crowd, large magical viewing screens floating in above the little sprites to give everyone else a view of the action.
The whole affair was a bit unnecessary but no less impressive for this display. As such, Mira found herself gaping at the Wizard Punch Out ring, her mouth slightly agape as she took in the sights. With a small gasp of surprise, she noticed that some of the pixies were somehow transmitting their vision to the viewscreens, providing practical bird’s eye camera angles. She had expected something along these lines, but imagining and witnessing were two very separate things.
"Impressed yet?" Mark, her benefactor, leaned in with a small smile. He was the one who had brought her here, insisting that Mira join him in this magical tournament.
Mira nodded, still in a daze. She'd had her doubts about competing, and now those were only magnified... despite the event's poor showing. There weren't too many competitors: only eight mages this time around. That was probably due to it having the misfortune of being set during summer, so not too many of the usual contestants were interested in trading sun for a chance to be made into another form for a week—or more, depending on their placement in the tournament.
But with the risk came reward. Not only did the winner get bragging rights; they also got a hefty $100,000 cash prize. Non-taxable, easy money. That was what had gotten Mira's attention—coupled with the opportunity to show up her mentor. She already spent most of her time around him in another form, so the penalty for losing was hardly a discomfort. Although there was something to be said about the mental loss... Apparently it was a regulation from the tournament's earliest days—any practitioner had to display mastery of inducing physical transformation, then mental.
Mira was a little apprehensive about that, but Mark had assured her that the judges on-hand would make sure nothing permanent came about from any errant spells. She wasn't too worried about herself as much as she was her opponent, and it was comforting to know that if she messed up, they wouldn't suffer for her errors. As for herself... Mira knew she was more than capable of bouncing back from transformations.
Besides, even if she got knocked out in the first round, that was just a month of being transformed. From there, it was two weeks in a new form for a second-round knockout... And for a first, just seven days of being something else. Mira found herself slipping into a comfy daydream of what she’d become—a cute kitten, a lovable poodle? Not that she didn’t expect to win, but...
"You know the rules?" Mark asked under his breath, a subtle quiz to keep her focused.
Mira jolted herself back to the present, nodding for Mark’s benefit. "Use puns and wordplay, coupled with magic, to change someone into any nonhuman object of your choice. For any anthropomorphic creatures, this typically involves a change in gender—though should the change prove sufficiently flashy, gender stability is acceptable. Once you change someone physically—" Mira swallowed. "The winner must then induce mental changes."
"Atta girl." Mark grinned from ear to ear. "And what was the advice I told you?" He was a veteran of the previous three years, even going so far as to win one of the tournaments. As he put it, it was his duty to educate younger magicians—especially his own assistant.
And Mira appreciated his help, committing every bit of advice to heart. "Try to keep your opponent off-guard. You're allowed to make puns as quickly as you can, but firing off weak volleys doesn't match up well against a magical shield. Instead, keep the changes small and catch them off guard." Her brow furrowed as she continued. "If your opponent catches on to your game, they can defend against your spell better, and so you need to try and be subtle about what you're making them into."
Mira still didn't fully get all of this talk about magical shields, but she figured she'd learn from practice. As if he was reading her thoughts, Mark looked down to her with a small grin. "Remember, a magical duel is a lot like a real duel—you have to keep careful attention to defense as much as you do offense. Changing other mages isn't like changing normal humans—they have a hard shell and can bite back."
"Like a snapping turtle." Mira nodded, giggling as Mark's face fell slightly. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Although I guess it's safe to assume we'll be dueling with each other at some point?"
Mark looked up to the floating viewscreens. "Only if we both make it to the last round." He pointed, showing that they were on opposite of the center stage. It looked like competitors were to start on the outskirts; then move in from there with each successive win. "Though I'm sure that won't be too much of a challenge for me." Mark continued.
Mira twitched one of her ears in annoyance. Though she'd taken an entirely human form for this tournament, some habits died hard. "Oh? Is that implying that I'll have a harder time than you? I think this contest sounds easy." Mira kept her voice confident, but low. It was probably an unnecessary measure, though. None of the other contestants seemed to be particularly old or powerful—hell, a lot of them were just wearing street clothes. Despite the... three exceptions, Mira felt extremely overdressed in her assistant’s outfit. Even Mark’s suit seemed like common wear compared to the skintight, sleeveless dress Mira typically wore.
Mark looked around at the other competitors, his face falling as he came to the same conclusion. "Well, this year the competition is a little... lacking. Aside for a few old hands, it seems like we'll have a mostly uninteresting set of fighters. Most of the kids these days don't have too much interest in puns, and some of the veterans have retired from the game."
“Sounds like easy winnings for us, then.” Mira smirked, noticing one of the other competitors trying—and failing—to create a proper defense as a warm-up. She hurriedly glanced to the screen, hoping she’d get such easy opponent, but it looked like Mark would be the lucky mage to get a free win.
Mark returned her smirk, his eyes locked on the same screen Mira’s were. “You mean easy winnings for me.”
Mira opened her mouth to respond, but Mark tapped her on her nose and vanished, leaving her blinking in confusion. She returned her gaze to the floating screens to find he was across the arena, already comfortably standing in his assigned spot. Then, Mira looked down to her ticket to find she was right where she needed to be—Mark had probably led her there so that she didn’t look too lost.
Well, while she more than appreciated the effort, she wasn’t just an assistant any more. Mark had taught her more than a few things about transformation, and it was time to show him—and every other mage—what she’d learned. Starting with... Lara Rydell? She blinked in confusion at the viewing screen, but the announcer confirmed this a minute later, booming off the competitors one by one.
She didn’t even recognize this girl’s name—there was no way she could be any more than an assistant! And even though Mira was one herself, at least she’d started to perform some serious magic before this tournament. Then again, the organizers had no way of knowing that. They probably thought this would be a cute and simple match between stage hands. So, if they wanted a show...
Mira grinned, giving a bow to the audience as she stepped on her stage. Her heels clicked quietly against the tiled marble, and Mira gave her cheering crowd wide kisses and bows. Across from her, another woman dressed in a simple, but flattering, black corset. That would be Lara, then—an attractive yet unassuming blonde.
Lara smiled and waved at the crowd just as Mira had, even tossing a few magical fireballs into the air. Mira smirked at that—it was an obvious display of showmanship, and from what Mira could sense, Lara hadn’t been able to truly reign in the full extent of her power. Strength was useful, but finesse was survival in a magical duel.
And on that note... Mira did her best to pretend there wasn’t a huge crowd watching her every move. It was a little bit tricky, there was a green pixie flitting above her, one of the viewing screens depicting everything the pixie saw. This extra level of attention made it clear that she simply couldn’t lose.
No, she had to be ready, be prepared for—
“What’s the matter? Finding this stage isn’t what it’s clucked up to be?” Lara’s voice cut through Mira’s thoughts, and before she could respond, changes were already coursing through Mira’s body.
Mira frowned. “Wha-aaark! Awk awk bawk!” Her hands flew to her throat—this contest had explicitly forbidden changing the opponent’s voice first, hadn’t it? Let alone striking before the first bell had even rung! Sure enough, a whistle was blown, and a pair of judges teleported in from the stands, one jogging over to Mira to help reverse this change. She smiled at him, undoing it with an advanced countersign.
The other judge nodded with approval, then turned to the crowd. “Penalty on Lara—unauthorized speech impairment; early start! Mira will have the license to make three free remarks of her choice, beginning... now!” With that, he and the other judge vanished from the stage, leaving Lara scowling at Mira.
“Hit me with your best shot.” The blonde called defiantly. No doubt she thought she was ready for whatever Mira had to dish out—even though it seemed like her shields were constrained to a single buckler in front of the girl’s body. Mira had no idea that magical shields could be so... weak. After half a month of sparring against Mark, she thought his impervious wall was the norm for magicians.
Mira let this sink in for a moment, formulating a plan—but Lara took Mira’s delay for a lack of confidence. “What’s the matter, rookie? You scared?”
Mira rolled her eyes. This girl had given up three free shots in the very first volley of changes! Worse, she’d revealed what she had planned to make Mira into, letting Mira hone her defenses with ease. And now...
Mira laughed mockingly, flaring out a wave of magic. Lara braced herself, her hands flashing in front of her to deflect the impact of impending transformation. But instead of the tsunami Lara clearly expected, Mira’s surge split off into three arrows, each of them dancing around Lara’s flimsy defense to pierce the blonde with the seeds of change.
“Hey, I’m not the one who tried to slither around the rules.” Mira said with a smile. Lara yelped, her legs merging into a long tail, it stretching out behind her, pink and fleshy. “But I’ll gladly accept any offers to tip the scales.” Mira continued, sashaying her hips as she paced in a small circle. The flesh-tone of Lara’s tail was replaced with a greenish hue, reptilian scales cloaking her body. “All in all, I’d say you’re about forked.”
With that last statement from Mira, Lara gagged slightly. Her tongue flicked out form her mouth, three times the length with a bifurcated tip. The pixie focused in on this change, and the crowd applauded, cheering Mira loudly. Lara slipped her engorged appendage back into her mouth, glaring at Mira. “Hey, how does that not count as impeding my speech?”
“Come again?” Mira said with a cocky grin. Lara blinked, realizing she had just spoken perfect English. She opened her mouth as if to ask ‘how’, and Mira shrugged sarcastically. But, despite her bravado, she steeled the barriers around herself, preparing for her opponent’s attack. She probably didn’t need to—this was less a duel and more a beatdown. But it never hurt to be safe.
“Well... I don’t know feather or not this handicap will help you.” Lara smirked as she spoke, her face falling as Mira’s arms didn’t immediately change into wings. Mira laughed at that, Lara’s ‘attack’ was like a cool rush of water slipping harmlessly past Mira’s shields.
“Looks like you’re in a hairy situation.” Mira picked at some imaginary dirt under her fingernails, beaming as Lara’s golden locks started to twist, taking on life of their own.
Lara shrieked in surprise and fear alike, her hair turning scaly just like her tail, curls becoming living snakes. She patted at her hair frantically, her mental shields all slipping away like loose sand. The judges at the sides of the ring nodded, and slowly one of the sprites at the center of the field flitted its way towards Mira.
Mira noticed this pixie was white—with a black shirt. So, that was the sign that she was free to transform Lara as she pleased. Mira grinned evilly as Lara continued to try and escape her hair. “What’s the matter? I thought two heads were better than one—though I guess you’ve got somewhere around six dozen.”
Some of Lara’s heads turned to glare at Mira venomously, and Mira had to stifle a giggle.
“Hey, don’t look so mad. You’re going to be a stone cold killer—but not literally, I mean. Sorry, it might seem a little cold-blooded, but I don’t want any bystanders to get petrified.” Mira chuckled. “Still, I do need to make sure you won’t try to stab me in the back... I hope you don’t mind?” Mira stretched out the last word, letting the changes sink into Lara’s head. Normally, she wouldn’t be one for mental changes—but the rules were clear that once the judges had settled on a winner, this was the only conclusion.
Thankfully, Lara had realized this too, and had let down her flimsy shield in a hurry. She was probably more than happy to think of her snake-covered head as natural, rather than horrifyingly alien. Lara’s eyes turned a shade of gold, her irises becoming vertical slits. She let out a faint hiss as her identity started to be erased, but this gave way to a dreamy smile as the woman began to stroke her reptilian scalp.
“And, going, going... Gor-gone.” Mira sighed, her shoulders falling slack with relief as Lara looked her new body over, approval clear in the changed woman’s eyes. It wasn’t the best pun for a photo finish, but it certainly seemed to do the trick.
“How may I ssserve?” Lara said, slithering over to Mira and seductively coiling around the young woman’s body. Mira let out a faint squeak of surprise, but managed to calm her inner rabbit.
“Nothing now, let’s just see how everyone else is doing...” Mira sent a glance to the viewing screens, grinning at the last change—some Gothic woman transforming her opponent into a bleating sheep. Mira stroked the back of Lara’s head, grinning.
So, the first round was done... That left, what, a ten minute break? Some time for her to catch her breath? Mira looked up to the announcer’s booth, waiting eagerly for their next response.
“And let’s not waste any time! Round two begins now with The Amazing Mark versus Susan Darkfeather, and Magic Mira versus The Great Gerald!” Mira blinked in surprise as she was teleported away from Lara, the gorgon hissing with surprise.
Mira looked up to her viewing screen, trying to find where she was—she felt that she was a little to the left of her old arena. Sure enough, the recording sprite in her old corner showed a confused gorgon, looking left and right for her master.
Mira chuckled, not even bothering to watch her new opponent take the stage across from her. It might have been a little disrespectful, but she wanted to find Mark’s location. A second later, she had him—the opposite corner to her. The viewing screen showed him standing across that Goth from before, and Mira couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.
Damned young blood. Mark sighed, rolling his shoulders irritably. These new ‘stunt magicians’ were one hell of a bunch, taking on ridiculous personas and using basic tricks to make their acts seem more believable. The worst part was how well it worked—he knew Susan had signed on for at least half a dozen episodes of some reality show or other.
Mark then stiffened, feeling Mira’s eyes on him. He turned to one of the recording sprites, raising his finger to point at the pixie. As he spoke, he pushed a little magical influence into his words, making sure thy carried. “Eyes front, Mira. You have an opponent too; don’t underestimate him.” It was true—Mark had almost lost to Gerald the last time they’d had a duel. It wasn’t that he was a better magician as much as it was that the Hungarian mage was abominably strong.
Quite the contrast to Miss Darkfeather, if her television show was to be believed. Mark turned to her, frowning as he looked her up and down again. Sure enough, he didn’t sense too much power from her—no, her true strength was definitely in the finesse with which she employed the mystic arts.
“Like something you see?” Susan flipped some of her hair over her shoulder, appearing cool and composed. But Mark could tell from the slight tension in her shoulders that she was raring to go. As it took her longer to change her last opponent, that meant she’d be going first.
It would be make or break—if she was able to catch Mark off-guard that meant that she’d be in the lead for this round of changes, having an advantage he’d be sorely pressed to keep up with.
Mark gave her a cocky grin. “No, just thinking of what I’ll need to feed you with after you lose.” He finished with a wink, beaming on the inside as Susan’s face colored. Angry mages were always more likely to make mistakes, especially if they relied upon finesse so heavily.
She opened her mouth to retort; then the buzzer sounded. Susan’s lips twisted into a slight grin as she looked at Mark nastily. “I’m sure as hell not going to lose to some stage magician. Sorry, buddy—you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
The flash of magic was almost imperceptible, and Mark felt it slip past his shields before he’d fully realized the attack’s direction. His feet grow numb within his shoes, changes already starting to sweep across them. Apparently Susan was no stranger to magical duels: it was common practice to keep the changes hidden from your opponent for as long as possible.
But that wasn’t Mark’s style. He chuckled, smirking at her confidently. “Cute choice of words—I’ll reply in kind. I’m certain your bark is worse than your bite.” He laid each word with magic, grinning as Susan’s nose turned black, flattening out on her face. “No need to be a bitch about it though.” Mark added as an afterthought, though these words held no power. If he was right a subtle misdirection would go a long way.
She yelped as she grew a small muzzle, then turned to Mark victoriously. “You cocky sap! Oh, I’ll be sure to tree-t you right after this is done...”
Mark grinned as the changes started to slow at his knees—though she had no way of knowing that. That was the biggest flaw of hiding the changes from your opponent—you couldn’t tell what was going on either. And if your opponent caught onto your game...
Susan had been using quite a few puns that involved trees, hadn’t she? Her spell stopped just before his thighs, and Mark let out an inward sigh of relief. While he didn’t know the species, a multilayered defense against the most common trees looked like it did the trick.
“Rather confident, proclaiming you won’t stand for a little competition.” Susan made a rather unattractive huff of surprise as she fell onto her palms, her legs going numb beneath her. “But don’t worry,” Mark continued, stretching his arms. “I’ll make sure you’ve got quite the tale to tell.”
Mark could feel Susan’s defenses strengthen along her tailbone, and she grinned victoriously. No doubt this was what she thought the turning point of the duel would be—a deft parry followed by a lethal thrust. If things would go as she planned, her shield would turn aside his spell, and then her riposte would let the duel carry through to its conclusion in her favor.
But things didn’t go as planned—instead of making her sprout a canine tail, Mark’s spell had a completely different species in mind. Susan’s legs snapped together, fusing into a single, aquatic limb. Her eyes widened with shock, and she looked helplessly to the judging sprite as it flew towards Mark.
That was his signal—he’d already slipped past her defenses, now he just had to finish her changes. “Sorry, but as you can guess, I’m just going to seal the deal right now.” Mark looked under his nails with feigned boredom, trying not to show his inner excitement. He always felt a rush of excitement when finding another magician fell for a simple ruse. Let alone the thrill of winning a magical duel—especially if Mark’s opponent was a celebrity... Even if she was a reality star.
“Wh—ark d-ort ark ark ark!” She barked loudly, whiskers pushing out from her cheeks.
“Sorry Susie, can’t have you uttering any counterspells, eh? Can’t have you de-fin-ding yourself against these last few changes, either.” Mark hastily added the last bit, noticing some of her frantic hand motions. It was probably a last-ditch countersign... with an emphasis on ‘was’.
Susan let out a loud bark of dismay as her fingers started to fuse together, becoming identical to the flippers of a seal. Her arms sank back into her body even as these new fins expanded, leaving her to sit on the ground like any other pinniped. She let out another loud series of barks as her breasts retreated into her chest, her proud ass deflating as well. Their fat was needed elsewhere, thick blubber forming along her body, destroying her feminine shape.
Susan rolled onto her back, watching her skin become dark and rubbery. She slapped her forming tail on the ground, her eyes widening at the feeling of the impact. Mark chuckled at that—he never changed someone without first testing on himself or Mira, so he knew firsthand how odd the thicker, smooth skin was.
The mage’s feet flattened out, completing her aquatic tail. She let out another loud ‘ort!’, looking at Mark with wide eyes. Her raven-black hair fell out in clumps, and she knew the end had come. All that was left was for her mind to go.
“Never thought you’d lose to a stage magician, eh?” Mark dusted off his pants, changing his legs form wood to flesh. Then, he strode over to the seal, scratching her under her chin. “What say we give them a round of applause?”
Susan’s eyes widened as she let out a series of loud, enthusiastic barks, her eyes darkening each time she gave voice to her inner seal. By the time she started clapping, her brown eyes had turned completely black, and a few claps later, they were glazed over. “Ark ark!” Susan clapped, happy to please the crowd.
Mark laughed, tossing her a fish. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!” Mark announced for himself, taking a deep stage bow.
“About time!” A voice called from behind him. Mark turned to find Mira strutting on-stage, her hair black with a white stripe down the middle.
Mark’s eyes shot up to his hairline, and he turned to look at the scoreboard. Sure enough, it looked like she’d made Gerald into a... Harpy? Apparently she had a flair for the mythological... And to triumph over Gerald! “Trying out a new hairstyle?” Mark smiled, trying to hide his unease. It looked like the student was rapidly becoming the master.
“No.” Mira admitted, frowning. “Gerald’s magic was really strong, and I couldn’t get all the way back to being human...” She trailed off with a huff, putting her hands on her hips.
She did it on her own? Mark swallowed nervously; it had taken two of the judges to help get Mark back from half-rhino to fully human the last time they’d fought. Mark had noticed his assistant had a gift for magic, but to think she’d have become so strong! He hoped that she couldn’t see any of the nervousness behind his smile, that she was thinking about anything else...
Mira really hoped Mark didn’t notice how much of her bravado was an act. It had been really close between her and Gerald, their match quick simply because of necessity. Gerald’s brute force approach to magic left Mira having to rapid-fire puns to slip past his guard—she’d gotten more than a little lucky that his sudden change in gender had left him wide open for her to finish him off. And even then, she had to use a trick she’d come up with to speed up the changes.
But that didn’t bother her as much as the fact that she still wasn’t able to change herself completely back to normal. That was a personal mark of shame, that she hadn't been able to fully undo the transformation. It looked like Mark was fine, and Mira felt a faint flush creeping up her cheeks as she realized how silly she must look with her skunk-like hair.
“For what it’s worth, I think it looks nice on you.” Mark muttered, low enough that Mira was the only one who could hear him. She blinked in surprise, watching his reddening face. He always did have a knack for reading her.
If only he didn’t have that stupid policy about not mixing business with pleasure—he was kind of cute, in a cocky, arrogant way. No doubt he’d rather Mira consider him ‘handsome’, but handsome men didn’t turn as red as a cherry when complimenting someone of the fairer sex.
“Thanks.” It was all Mira had time to say before the bell for the final round rang.
The event’s announcer appeared atop the central viewscreen, a concert microphone clenched in his hands. “Without further ado, let’s begin the final round of this year’s PUN-CH OUT!!!” He drew the competition’s title into a roar, one the crowd was quick to mirror.
Mark took a few deep breaths, his flushed face returning back to its usual, cocky smirk. “Tell you what, Mira—I’ll give you a decent first shot. It’s the saintly thing to do—after all, you don’t stand much of a chance of winning.”
Mira frowned—he’d said so much, yet she couldn’t detect any changes in her body. That wasn’t good, he was planning something subtle, some way to trigger his implanted suggestions. So, if she couldn’t defend, offense was her only option.
“Hey, I’ve already changed you into a horse. And besides... It would behoove you to be proud of me, making it to this round!” Mira smirked as Mark’s hands twisted, forming a pair of hard, enameled hooves. She had a plan for this change, but she had to keep him guessing as to his form for as long as possible—she knew that once he caught on, her victory would be all but impossible.
Mark looked at his new hooves, then clopped them together in a mimicry of applause. “Oh, I’m plenty proud. I’m just worried you’ll sprout wings and fly away from the nest.” He spoke with a smile, and Mira felt her shoulderblades extend from her body, a pair of large, plumed wings forming on her body.
Okay, so Mark was planning to change her into some sort of bird? Mira still had no idea, so she continued to press her attack. “You’re my mane man, Mark—why would I ever think of that?” He still hadn’t caught on—she had to keep him guessing with as many equine puns as possible. No doubt he was already thinking of mythological creatures, putting up shields against traditional equines like the Pegasus. She had to keep him guessing for as long as possible.
Mark ruffled his growing mane as he spoke, intent upon keeping up the pressure. “I don’t know... Because I keep criticizing your skills? Your defense is still a little hole-y.” It was like speed chess, he wasn’t giving her time to think—and she still couldn’t feel any of the changes.
Mira chuckled. “Hey, remember when I wanted you to be my pony and you said ‘Nay’?” She put a little more inflection on ‘pony’, hoping it would offset his guard. Sure enough, Mark sprouted a pair of horse’s ears, his nose scrunching as his human ears sank back into his head.
“Hey, low blow.” Mark spoke with a smirk, and Mira realized he’d just triggered his layered traps. But what was it? Blow, low, hey... lo... halo? As soon as the thought passed through Mira’s head, her ears lengthened to gently pointed tips, her skin took on an ambient glow, and a golden ring materialized itself above her head.
But unlike with Gerard’s changes, where she felt like she was being squished and bound, these felt relaxing, like a smooth massage... Mira could almost give into them, just throw the match and enjoy... No!
Mira shook her head, trying to dispel the servile thoughts Mark had slipped into her mind somehow. Of course, that wasn’t allowed—Mark had taken advantage of Mira’s innate desire to be transformed, especially into pretty things. She tried again, struggling harder to fight the sweeping changes across her body.
It was no use, a rush of almost erotic pleasure flowing through the changing woman. Mira gasped, then gasped again as she realized how heavenly her voice sounded. Oh, Mark had definitely chosen a flattering form for her, but she couldn’t accept it! ...No matter how good it felt. No! At this rate, Mira would end up changing herself for Mark!
She had to try out her trump card—it was her only chance. “Hey, Mark. What do you call a school a school by a sub-Saharan river? A hippo campus.” As she spoke, she focused not on firing off another wave of change, but rather on spreading the shifts she’d already inflicted.
Mira had picked up on this transformation technique from reading some tomes and from a little bit of anime. Fire off a bunch of shots, then connect them all at once, ending in a change that should be too strong and violent to counter. The biggest difference between that and what Mark had done was her way required reigning in each change just a little, saving a bit of magic for the chain reaction.
Mira’s eyes widened triumphantly as Mark fell to his forehooves, his torso bursting from his clothes, brown fur overtaking his skin. He opened his mouth to retort, his eyes wide as he realized she’d used a similar trick to his own. But the judging pixie had already flitted towards Mira.
She beamed predatorily, her visage a stark contrast to her current holy form. “Seems like the scales have turned, eh?” Below the waist, Mark’s skin took on a greenish hue, ichthyoid in nature. “But for me, things are going along swimmingly.” Mark’s feet snapped together, fusing to form a large tailfin.
Mira had been saving all of her aquatic puns for this moment, and she was unleashing all of them as soon as possible. “Because I’m fin-ishing you off, I mean. It took some real s-gill, too. Though these puns aren’t too much of a good en-dorsal-ment of my verbal technique. I promise, you’ll sea better of me later, I might be coming off as a little beach-y, stretching for some fishy jokes. All in all, I’m just trying to make a splash—though it’s a little funny that despite all of my talking, Mark’s the one getting horse.”
With her every spin of the tongue, Mark changed further and further. His shoulders snapped forward, his arms lengthening. Numerous bones formed along his tailfin, giving him a full range of motion. Gills sprouted along his neck, soon covered with orbs of water as the judges ensured his safety. Mark endured them all, the spells too rapid to form a proper last-ditch defense, the puns to frequent to focus on any one.
Mira beamed—Mark was a hippocampus from the shoulders down. All that was left was a finishing touch... “This should teach you to snort at my accomplishments!” Her mentor’s nostrils flared out, his face stretching out into an equine muzzle. He coughed loudly as his neck lengthened, stretching away from his torso. Mark let out a loud neigh, the gift of speech struck from him as his physical changes were brought to a resounding completion.
Mira stood across from him, teleporting in a large aquarium tank she’d had custom-made for this occasion. She’d done it! She’d really beaten Mark! “Oh. Oh my God!” She squeaked, flicking a hand up to reverse her changes. She paused the action midway, glancing to one of the judges. He shrugged; then nodded. She’d already won, there was no sense in her not being comfy when changing her mentor.
Mira beamed with excitement, letting the counter-transformation flow across her body, a wave of dispelling magic tickling her from her head to her toes. She was a little bit too over-enthusiastic about it, and she undid her ‘human’ form, leaving her bunny ears and tail on display for the world to see. The audience didn’t mind one bit, though—cheering even louder at her real form.
Well, it was almost her real form. Gerald’s spell still seemed to have taken root, and Mira was left with black ears and a black-and-white Oreo of a tail. She might have been embarrassed had the crowd not clearly enjoyed her new look.
Mira bowed, waving to her newly earned admirers as she vanished, reappearing an instant later atop Mark’s tank. “You know what time it is, sir?” She grinned as she slipped each leg along him in turn, mounting him delicately. After all, he was still Mark and she didn’t want to hurt him.
Mark huffed, but his eyes were already unfocusing slightly, darkening to deep brown orbs. Mira brushed her hands along her own neck, forming amphibian gills, and she looked back to her new hippocampus. He snorted back, letting out a loud neigh.
“Now, we ride!” Mira dig her heels in, magically adhering her legs to his flanks. Without further ado, the hippocampus let out a loud whinny and dove beneath the water, the audience’s applause lost in a spray of surf and bubbles. He re-emerged into a graceful leap, and Mira shook her hair out behind her to make a perfect photo finish—in spite of her soggy tail.
The announcer gripped his microphone, looking down to the scene before him in awe. “What a way to go! The winner of the fourth annual Punch Out is... Magic Mira! And what is our lovely winner going to do with the lovely cash prize?”
Mira blinked—she’d completely forgotten about that. “Um... well, that’s a secret, but you all will find out soon enough. For now, though—I’m going to take a well-earned vacation!”
The hippocampus beneath her snorted its approval, and she patted its muzzle. Mark was the runner-up, so her changes over him would end after just a week. But still, a week with a magical sea horse—she could hardly wait to start it! Even if Mira would need to find some people to take care of her new menagerie. That might be a challenge in itself—it would probably fall on her to look after all of the changed contestants, a veritable circus of animals. Though at least Lara and Gerald were human enough to act as impromptu zookeepers...
Either way, that was a problem for later. Mira paused to smile for a camera, making sure her mount was in the frame. Right now, having great pictures was the most important thing to Mira. She wanted a perfect reminder of today, so Mark would never forget she’d beaten him. That had to buy her at least some power in their little business, and she had a few ideas...