A breeze blew through the trees, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean. Melissa took a deep breath, hoping to enjoy the scent of the sea.

Melissa gagged, immediately.

“Something wrong?” Talith asked, moving his riding drake closer to Melissa. Talith, who had no nose, could only frown in concern. 

Melissa leaned down over her horse and fought desperately not to retch, despite having just inhaled the scent of rotten fish and raw sewage.

“...Breathe through your mouth,” Talith suggested, watching from astride his riding drake. “That’s what Lonna always does, when we’re in the city.”

“...Thanks…” Melissa straightened, wiping a little spittle from her lips. “Surprised you care.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Talith asked, monobrow dipping at the center as the Laspi furrowed his brow.

“Nothing. You just… haven’t been that welcoming, since I got here. I was starting to think you hated me, or something.”

Talith opened his mouth, to reply, and then paused. He turned toward the bushes, and a moment later Melissa heard why: a rustling sound.

Two dark hands shot out from the nearest bush, pushing aside the foliage to reveal a small, green cloaked figure. Lonna, returning from her mission.

“Where’s your horse?” asked Talith, first.

“Those bastards at the gate charged me an entry fee for it! I wasn’t paying twice, so I stabled the damn thing at the our inn, the Dancing Kraken.”

Talith grunted acknowledgement, then frowned. “Where’d you get the coin?”

“Easy. I stole your coin purse.” Saying this, Lonna casually reached into her cloak and pulled out a half empty bag. It was little more than a piece of burlap, tied together with some string, but the moment Talith saw it his hand shot down to his loincloth.

“Trees take you, Lonna! When did you grab that!?”

“When you were helping me onto my horse, earlier.” Lonna grinned. “We’ll be needing it to get inside; and to pay for the heroine’s shopping trip. A new riding corset is expensive, you know.”

Talith scowled, in response. “It looks light. Couldn’t you have at least filled it, while you were out? And why are we paying for Melissa’s clothes, anyway? Isn’t it about time Mister Heroine pulled his own damn weight?”

“She doesn’t have money…” Melissa interjected, scratching at the back of her head. “...I just think we should keep in practice using she and her, so we don’t mess up? Also, she isn’t comfortable with stealing.”

“You were comfortable enough with stealing that horse,” Lonna pointed out, lifting an eyebrow.

“That was different,” Melissa protested, blushing faintly. “We were in clear and present danger, and we only stole from a government that was trying to kill us, anyway.”

“Well, everyone’s in a clear and present danger with Sorissa about,” Lonna pointed out. “And I only steal from rich people, who - trust me - can afford it, anyway.”

“...Even if that’s all true, I’m supposed to be the Heroine, aren’t I? So shouldn’t I be standing up for some sort of moral code? How can I just steal, knowing that it’s wrong, and that it’s only for my own benefit, anyway?”

“It’s for everyone’s benefit that Sorissa be killed!” Lonna protested, her voice raising an octave from frustration.

“Then give them a choice,” Melissa countered. “We can tell the shopkeep I’m the heroine, and let her choose whether to outfit me or…” 

“Or turn you in?” Lonna asked, raising an eyebrow. “No way. I’ll spend every copper cap Talith has before I put you in danger like that.”

“Hey!” Talith complained, maneuvering his riding drake between Lonna and Melissa. “That’s enough useless arguing. Melissa, if you want to avoid Lonna stealing, then come up with another way. Lonna, if you want to go steal anything, go steal the toll money - then it’ll be stealing from the government again, and Melissa should be fine with it. Right, Melissa?”

“...That’s not really the point I was trying to make, but I guess it’s better… What if I traded in my current clothes, for a new outfit? I bet you guys don’t have anything like sweatpants in this world - you probably don’t even have elastic waistbands. Maybe that means it’ll sell well?”

Lonna frowned. “I guess that could sell for a little, as a novelty. If it doesn’t work, though, I’m definitely robbing the gate’s coin box.  In fact, I might rob it on the way out anyway. Teach them a lesson about charging me for my horse!”

Talith simply sighed, and got off his drake. Picking Lonna up in his clay hands, he deposited her on top of the riding drake, before getting up behind her.

“We can discuss it after we settle in at the inn, tonight,” Talith said, lightly tapping the side of his steed with one foot. “For now, we should focus on getting into the city.”

“I’m telling you,” Lonna promised. “It’ll be a piece of cake. They didn’t have her warning poster anywhere in sight!”

Despite nodding, Melissa couldn’t help the knot in her stomach, as she rode out of the forest and toward the city.

 

***

After an hour of waiting in line, Melissa underwent only a brief examination at the city gates, in which her image was compared to the various wanted posters on the wall. After that, Melissa was charged a silver helm for herself, and two copper caps for her horse, before the guards allowed her to enter the city.

“I got an inkling of this from the intact wall,” Melissa began, “but… This place looks a lot better than Ife did.”

The buildings were largely clean, and many were painted. People lined the streets, walking between shops and window-shopping. The buildings even had colorful signs. Most of these were adorned with pictures and words, but a few had only pictures. Melissa didn’t see any with words alone.

The only thing this place had in common with the city of Ife was a stench: here, the rotten smell of fish and the taste of salt in the air, combined with the unfiltered scent of unwashed masses to create a nigh-physical force that pummeled Melissa's nostrils. She had to constantly remind herself to breathe through her mouth, and even then she could still catch an occasional whiff of it.

A major part of that stench was beneath their feet, even now: a channel had been dug into the middle of the street, with a steel grate over it. Similar channels were on every street they passed. A sewer system, of sorts? What wasn’t collected by tanners, for leather, or farmers for fertilizer probably ended up in the ocean.

Lonna didn’t seem to be affected by the stench - her eyes weren’t watering from it, like Melissa’s were. They instead studied each building they passed.

Eventually, Lonna stopped and pointed to a sign, one with a white pair of pants. There were characters underneath the sign, though Melissa had no idea what they said.

“The White Trousers,” Lonna declared, as if predicting Melissa’s question.

“Sounds expensive,” Talith complained. “And you still haven’t given me back my coin purse.”

“A place like this is more likely to pay for new materials, and clothing designs,” Lonna insisted. “We’ll have a better chance of trading clothes for crowns here than anywhere else I’ve seen.”

“...if you put it that way…” Talith sighed.

“I do,” Lonna promised, slipping down from her the drake. Before Talith could do the same, Lonna tossed his coin purse up to him.

“Use that to stable our mounts, would you? Melissa and I can handle the rest of this on our own.”

Talith fumbled with the bag of coins, having to use both of his hands to get a solid grip on the small sack. By the time he had gotten the bag secure, Lonna had already darted down the street, through the crowd, and into The White Trousers. 

Talith stared at the space she had been for a moment, and then turned to glower at Melissa, who flinched back on her horse.

“What are you waiting for?” Talith grumbled, after a moment of glaring. “Get off your horse, and go after her. There’s no telling what sort of trouble she’ll get into on her own.”

“...R-Right…” Melissa looped a bit of hair nervously between her fingers, tugging lightly to draw it taut. It still felt a little weird, having hair so long; only when she was trying to tug it, though. Honestly, the weight had grown to feel surprisingly natural. 

“I… Um…” Talith was still glaring at Melissa, who had yet to dismount her horse. “Is she always like this?”

“...Like what?” Talith asked, arching his monobrow.

“Like. A twister on two legs? I mean, I guess I should have figured, when she - you know, recruited me, but… Is she always like this?”

Talith shrugged, heavy stone joints rising,and then falling, with a heavy sigh. “You get used to it.”

“You… do?” Melissa asked, finally moving to get off her horse.

“Or die. But isn’t it that way with everything, though?”

“...Maybe?” 

Melissa sighed, feet finally hitting solid ground. She passed her reins to Talith, with a small smile, and then glanced back at the shop. “I hope I get used to her.”

“Good luck with that. Better men then you have tried.” Talith nudged his riding drake forward, moving through the crowd with Melissa’s horse in tow.

Melissa hesitated for a moment, and then moved toward the shop.

Pushing the white painted door open, she was relieved to see nothing was on fire. Lonna was standing patiently by the wall, near the entrance. 

When Melissa entered, Lonna turned to her with a bright grin. “Took you long enough. I could have robbed this place and been a whole building over by now. Didn’t Talith tell you to keep an eye on me?”

“I think if you wanted to do any of that, me being here wouldn’t stop you,” Melissa replied, looking about the shop. It was entirely unlike the clothing stores back home - there were no rows of uniform clothes, folded together or held on hangers. Instead, there were about eight different mannequins, each in a different style of dress, with the main part of the shop’s space being devoted to bolts of fabric. Probably to give customers options for what their outfit would be made of.

The shopkeep, currently slithering toward them, was a lamia. Much like the one who had accosted them in the streets of Ife, her snake half was covered in green scales. Her upper half, however, was that of a blonde woman. Despite the small smile on her face, her yellow eyes held no warmth.

“Can I help you?” she asked, stopping a few feet in front of Lonna. The way her eyes looked over Lonna’s dirty, tattered green cloak, before sweeping over Melissa’s obviously ill-fitted outfit, seemed to say that she thought they were beyond helping.

“We’re looking for some new clothing,” Lonna declared, speaking before Melissa had the chance to. “A riding corset, a few nice blouses, and a good pair of trousers. I missing anything, Melissa?”

“Um… New boots would be nice…?”

“You’ll need a cobbler for the boots,” the shopkeep declared, with a small smile. “But I can certainly manage the outfit - assuming you can pay up front? From what you’ve said, we’re looking at a minimum of three crowns.”

“How about you give us three crowns, and the outfit, free of charge,” Lonna suggested, a grin spreading across her face. “And in return, we give you something the Countess of Koleff herself would be thrilled to wear - tell me, have you ever heard of ‘sweatpants’?”

“Sweatpants?” The woman frowned, curious now. “No, I can’t say I ever have - but if it’s those gray slacks your friend is wearing, I can’t say that I’m very…” The woman, having reached out to pluck at Melissa’s sweats, paused to rub the cloth between her forefinger and thumb. Tugging it, lightly, and watching it snap back, she let out a little “Hmmm” of fascination, before walking around Melissa. “The rest of your outfit seems useless; the shirt looks like it’s about ready to burst at the seams, and is stained besides. The shoes might get some vague interest from a cobbler, though… I suppose I could take them off your hands, along with the sweatpants, as a package deal - and in return, give you three golden crowns… worth of clothes, that is.”

“Uh-huh. Throw in two golden crowns worth of actual money, and I’ll consider it.:” 

Lonna was grinning, now. 

The shopkeeper, however, put a hand on her chest, and started opening and closing her mouth as if trying to catch a fly in it. 

“Are you trying to rob me, madames?” she asked, glancing between Lonna and Melissa. “I have a daughter to feed. I’ll give you a helm, for your time, and the clothes you asked for; no more.”

“Have I mentioned the elastic waistband?” Lonna asked, despite never having heard the term before.

“Elastic…?” the lamia frowned, but reached out a hand to pluck at Melissa’s waistband. When she realized how it stretched out, and snapped back, she let out a little squeal of delight - then coughed, and tried to cover her faux pas.

“Hm… Hmmm…., It’s not really worth much, though, is it? I mean, perhaps we can sell it as a one off to some rich customer - after washing it thoroughly, of course - but it’s not as if we can reproduce this fabric… Wherever did you get it, in any case?”

“From outside Resperan,” Lonna said, interceding before Melissa could even think up an excuse. “There’s a small town, on the northern coast of Auroris. They produce this stuff using a strange mix of plants and magic. It’s traveled a long way, just to come to your shop - the one and only shop in Resperan that can be said to have this…”

“Oh, very well…” the lamia sighed, unable to hide a glimmer of greed in her eyes. “Three blouses, a riding corset, a pair of trousers - and one crown. It’s really the best I can do, right now…”

“Two crowns, and a letter of recommendation to a good cobbler,” countered Lonna, an easy smile on her lips. She was obviously at home here.

“Maybe I should go look at the clothes a bit?” Melissa suggested. “Pick out some fabric I like for the blouses while you two argue it out?”

“Oh, do whatever you like, my dear,” the lamia offered with a smile. “Be sure to check out the blue cloth we keep toward the back of the shop.”

“Oh, so that you can eat into my profits by saying we picked out too expensive a fabric? I’m onto your tricks,” Lonna accused, with a glare. “Melissa, check out whatever you want, but do not even think about that blue cloth.”

“I don’t think blue’s really my color, anyway, but sure,” Melissa promised, moving further into the shop, amid the bolts of cloth, until she was in fact at the back of the shop. Melissa wasn’t here to look at the cloth, though; she’d just wanted to get away from Lonna’s haggling, before any more guilt-inducing lies came to the fore.

Despite that… since she was there, she saw no point in not looking about. The blue fabric that the shopkeep had mentioned was in fact there, a small bolt of shimmering fabric that probably cost a fortune to make anything out of. There was also a red bolt, and even a pink one. What caught Melissa’s eye, however, was not a bolt of cloth at all, but a carved wooden mannequin which had been laid against the corner.

It was wearing a green dress.

The design was simple, bordering on basic. It was nothing more than a tube of green fabric, cinched at the waist, with a low v-cut neckline.

Yet, still, Melissa found herself staring at it.

“I can sell you that one cheap, if you want,” came a voice, and Melissa spun to find a miniaturized version of the shopkeeper, standing behind her.

Or. No. She wasn’t just smaller - she was younger, looking to be in her early twenties, and her face was subtly different: a little rounder in the cheek bones, and a little softer around the eyes, and definitively more chubby around the stomach. Perhaps the shopkeeper's daughter?

“It’s ripped,” the girl continued, gesturing to a tiny tear at the hem. “Mom says that we can’t display anything with a rip, so I’m supposed to cut it up after making a new one… but I think that’s just too sad a fate for it. Don’t you?”

“I… Guess. I mean. It’s pretty - and the tear’s really small…”

“Right? You get it, right? Mom says dresses don’t feel, and maybe she’s right, but I just think it’s too cruel. Dresses are made to be worn! They carry their maker’s will inside them! And I made that dress, so let me tell you now - it wants to be worn. By you.

“Why don’t you try it on?” the girl asked, gesturing to a small curtained off area, in the corner of the store. “Try it on, and I bet you’ll never want to take it off again.”

“I...I don’t think I should,” Melissa muttered, glancing back toward the front of the store. Melissa and the shopkeep were still arguing, from the sound of it. “I might mess up my friend’s bargaining, if I end up wanting more clothes…”

“It’s cheap,” the girl promised. “Won’t cost more than a helm. Just try it on - try it on, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to buy it.”

Melissa hesitated a moment, glancing toward the little covered off area. She didn’t want to disappoint the girl, but honestly - should she really be putting on a dress? She was a guy, really, after all. She was trying to get back to being a guy, too. Should she really be playing dress up?

“Did I mention we have a mirror? You can see how pretty you look in it, for yourself, before making any decisions.”

“A mirror…?” Melissa murmured. She hadn’t seen a mirror, since coming here, actually. 

“...Alright. I’ll do it.” If only to see what she looked like in a mirror.

The lamia grinned, in response, quickly tugging the dress off its mannequin, and shoving it at Melissa.

Melissa stared for a moment at the fabric, at the dress she’d just agreed to put on, and then walked into the changing area. The curtains closed behind her, offering some small bit of privacy.

A mirror stood in front of Melissa. It was the first reflective surface she’d come across since coming here, and part of Melissa wanted to look into it immediately.

Another part of her desperately wanted not to, though. She knew what she’d see after all: a man, in too tight clothing.

Oh, she’d probably look like a woman on the outside, thanks to the spell, but… There was no escaping what was going on inside, was there?

Melissa decided not to look into the mirror, just yet. Instead, she stripped herself of her too tight pink shirt, and her too small but suddenly valuable shoes and sweats. She left herself in her too tight bra, and boxers, not having anything else to wear.

Then she slipped on the dress.

The fabric was surprisingly soft, and cool to the touch. The dress itself was actually a surprisingly good fit, despite her large frame. A little tight, but not so much she was popping out of it. She thought it settled nicely on her.

Of course, with the dress going on so smoothly, there was no longer anything to keep Melissa from what she dreaded most. In fact, she had more reason than ever to look into the mirror. 

She didn’t want to.

She had to.

Taking a deep breath, Melissa closed her eyes, and turned toward her reflection. Then, slowly, she cracked open her eyelids to get her first peek at her new form.

A woman stared back at her. Muscular, tall, but undeniably feminine, with round cheeks and soft brown eyes; wearing a green dress that hugged her figure, with tight green sleeves that did nothing to hide her musculature. 

Staring at her reflection, Melissa didn’t see one hint of the man she’d always assumed herself to be.

Unsure how to process this, unsure what to make of this, Melissa took one step back, and then a second, before turning and fleeing from both the curtained area, and the lamia who’d cajoled her into entering it.

“Lonna!?” she called, heading back to the front of the store. “Lonna, we need to get out of here. Make whatever deal, or grab whatever coin purse you want, we just have to get out of… here…”

Standing at the front of the store were three heavily armored men, each of them wearing a sword at their side. Emblazoned on the front of their maille was what looked to be a silver squid, on a blue field - azure, a kraken argent.

One of the guards had taken Lonna by the arms, and was forcefully holding her still, while she glowered.

The other two were advancing toward Melissa. 

“Don’t resist,” suggested the one still holding Lonna. “We have orders to bring you in alive, but we’ll still hurt you if you resist.”

“Lonna?” Melissa called, nervously, as one of the guards took her by the wrists.

“Just do what they say,” Lonna said, her whispered voice holding barely contained rage. “They’ve already got Talith, or I’d have burned them to the ground already.”

“Hmph. You’d be welcome to try,” said the guard holding Lonna, with a small smile. “But never fear: we mean you no harm, your Highness. In fact, you can consider this a formal invitation: the Countess of Koleff wishes to see the Princess Lonna.”

Melissa’s head twisted about to Lonna, her mouth opening and closing. She had so much she wanted to say, and there was so much she didn’t understand, but one thing obviously demanded more attention than the rest.

“Lonna… Why did he call you a princess?”