A Child to Be Proud Of
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Thank you for checking out my story!

Currently, I plan on doing weekly releases Fridays at 2:30 CST.

As the morning sunlight filled the room, Zaria sat up in bed and checked the time. 6 o’clock. She let out a breath of relief. She had spent all last night worrying stress would stop her from getting a proper eight hours of sleep. 

But there was no time to celebrate if she wanted to maintain her morning routine!

Indeed, save for that one breath, it’d be impossible to distinguish that morning from any other in Zaria’s life. Like a finely programmed golem, she followed an exact procedure: ten minutes of stretches, half an hour of meditation, ten minutes reviewing her spellbook, and half an hour reading research papers and other magic literature. Then, after a bit of relief and a quick shave in her bathroom, it was time to change and head downstairs.

She looked over the suit laid on her desk chair. Her father had helped her pick out a three-piece suit that matched the new purple wizard cloak she’d earned after becoming a novice. It felt stiff, but she was happy to finally own clothing with a bit more color. In fact, Zaria was surprised her mother hadn’t objected to it. Perhaps she had given up after being unable to convince her child to get a more neutral-colored cloak.

After a quick prestidigitation spell to iron out the wrinkles, she slipped out of her oversized hoodie and into her suit and cloak. She walked up to her full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Usually, she avoided looking at it, but as her reflection twirled and posed, she finally saw a proper-looking wizard—maybe even a pretty-looking one! Even without the new outfit, she was just happy her dark hair had finally grown down to her shoulders. A faint smile appeared on her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen it.

There was a knock at the door. “Hey, kiddo, you up?”

“Mhmm,” Zaria hummed, “just changed.”

Her father, Benjamin, opened the door. “Wow, look at you! It’s like you’re a real wizard. Er, not that you aren’t—” 

Zaria giggled. “I know what you mean, dad. Thanks.”

“Whew. Now, let’s get downstairs. Your mother is gonna wanna see her son.”

Zaria’s smile disappeared.

 


 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Azariah the Wizard has arrived,” Benjamin announced.

As Zaria came down the stairs, she saw her mother, Edilyth, was sipping at her morning tea as she read from a clipboard that levitated before her. Her stern eyes commanded the paperwork to rest on the table before turning to her child. She tilted her head down to look over her reading glasses.

Zaria froze. A pause.

“I like it,” she finally said.

Zaria’s face lit up as she bounced down the last few steps. “Really?”

“Yes. It’s a proper style, but the color is just bold enough to make you stand out without being too flashy.” She took off her reading glasses then motioned for her child to sit across from her. 

Zaria sat. 

“Are you ready?”

Zaria gave a firm, practiced nod. “Of course.” 

“Good.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed on her, but it almost felt like she was looking through her instead of at her. 

Another pause. Zaria could barely keep her anxiety in check.

“You know, even with my connections, getting hired at an adventuring guild as a recently graduated novice is commendable.” She reached forward to place her hand on her child’s. “You’re a smart boy, Azariah; you’ll know what to do today.”

Zaria nodded—this time, with genuine confidence. “Thank you.”

Benjamin scooted a chair right next to Zaria and put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want us to come with you, kiddo? Your mother is off today, and I don’t start my new job until next week.”

Zaria’s jaw dropped. “Mom took a day off?” 

Edilyth moved to her child’s side and gripped her hand again. “This was worth it.”

“Mom… Dad… Thank you.” She pulled her parents into an embrace; this was the happiest she might’ve ever felt.

And yet, while she had full confidence that she was ready for her first day as a licensed adventurer, she felt more hesitant than ever to say the one thing she had always needed to tell them:

She was not their son, Azariah. She was their daughter, Zaria.

Maybe this was the worst time to doubt their supportiveness, but there were always little things that always haunted Zaria’s thoughts: the look of disgust her mother once made at a crossdressing actor, the time her father had drunkenly praised how she was going to be “the son that Grandpa Jack would’ve been proud of,” etc. 

It was far more convenient like this. If anyone knew the logistics of getting her gender changed legally and remaking all her certifications as a wizard and now an adventurer, it would be her mother, the government official. This was before even considering the cost to find and hire a trustworthy transmutation specialist to make Zaria’s body finally reflect the woman inside it.

This wasn’t the right time to tell them.

It was never the right time to tell them.

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