The angry man Everard had shapeshifted into Elvira's fiance. Her twitching eyes looked at him in disbelief. Was it Wivior? A fly hit the edges of her gaping mouth. In repulsion, she smacked her upper lip and closed her mouth.
"Darling, you look positively stupefied to see me," Wivior jested.
"Wivior?" Elvira touched his face. The stubble was rough, and the hairless part of his cheek was as smooth as silk. Her Wivior knew how to keep his face properly moisturized.
"Upon touching you, I feel it's you. But how is it possible? I am pretty sure I heard Everard's voice," said Elvira.
Wivior's eyes twinkled with mirth. "It's a unique spell. You have no idea how many favors I had to pull in to get this. Even after all the efforts, I could only change my voice. Changing one's face or entire physical appearance requires potent magic. It's hard to get your hands on that."
