Randel rubbed her sore arms and silently cursed Rohesia’s name. Even though she was getting better now that close to a week had passed, Ro hadn’t given her any praise. At least the training was over for the day. She was headed to the tailor’s house.

Hammon had finished her new clothes several days ago, including the dress Randel hadn’t been confident enough to wear yet. She’d also gotten her new boots and the blisters she’d had were healing nicely, if a little too slow for her to be happy about it. Rohesia had been glad to get her boots back, too.

Stace had spent the past couple of days finding people who needed help with odds and ends. Since she wasn’t hunting anymore, Randel needed something to do to fill her time while everyone else was working. She’d helped out at the furrier, the fishery, and the bake house. Every day was a new awkward experience as people struggled to teach her what she needed to do while gawking at her when they thought she wasn’t looking.

“Hello Randel,” Hamon said jovially when she entered, “Thank you for assisting me today.”

“I’m glad to have something to do,” she replied honestly, “But I’ve never done this before.”

“You won’t have to use the needle at all,” Hamon promised, “You’ll just be assisting with tools and fabrics.”

Randel sighed in relief.

Despite Hamon’s assurances, Randel still fumbled a bit for the first hour or so. Eventually she found herself enjoying the experience, however. Hamon didn’t flinch or stutter or otherwise look uncomfortable talking to Randel. For a while she forgot there was even anything wrong with her.

“How are you getting along?” Hamon finally asked, “Now that almost a week has passed?”

Randel handed over a large pair of scissors and admitted, “I feel perfectly fine.”

“Is that so?”

Randel nodded, but avoided his eyes. It was true enough. The only real problem was the way people stared and muttered. If not for that, Randel thought she really would feel like nothing was wrong.

“But I can’t get comfortable,” she thought to herself, “My old life is still waiting for me.”

She held a roll of fabric still while Hamon cut off a large square.

Hamon continued, “I’m glad to hear that things are going well for you, then. Does that mean you’re enjoying the dress?”

Randel started to squirm.

“I haven’t had a chance to wear it, yet,” she said.

The dress was sitting in her chest at Rohesia’s home, carefully folded up and gingerly placed on top of everything else. Randel was reminded of it every time she passed another woman. There was a burning desire in her gut to try it on, but something was stopping her.

“That’s a shame,” Hamon told her, turning to face the mannequin, “Bring me the box of pins.”

Randel did so, and Hamon continued, “I was hoping you’d at least tried it on, since you asked for it special.”

She nodded and bit her lip.

“I promise I will. I just haven’t had the opportunity.”

“No pressure, girl.” Randel’s heart fluttered. “It’s yours to do with as you wish. I only bring it up because I was going to make you an offer.”

Randel sat the box of pins down on the table and asked, “An offer?”

Hamon glanced over at her and explained, “I have a lot of orders to get through in the next couple of weeks. Some extra help for a few days would make a significant difference. If you were to help, I’d be willing to use my off time to put together a special dress for you.”

“A special dress?” Randel could feel her face burning. “What do you mean?”

“Just something a little nicer and more colorful than what I already gave you. That’s all, if you want it.”

Randel’s mouth was dry. Why was this even tempting? In a few more days, or maybe another week, Aldith was going to have a way to transform Randel back to normal and she’d never wear a dress again.

Hamon was watching her and waiting for an answer.

“Yes!” Randel cried, “I’d be happy to help!”

Hamon nodded sagely, like he understood something that Randel didn’t.

“Then let’s take a break and figure out what kind of outfit that you’d like.”

Randel was in heaven. Hamon showed her a bunch of different dresses to get an idea of what elements Randel wanted in hers. Then he showed her a bunch of colorful fabrics for her to choose from. She settled on a nice deep blue color that went with her eyes.

“Oh no!” she realized suddenly, still holding the fabric in her hands, “What time is it? I was supposed to meet Aldith today.”

Hamon chuckled and replied, “Go on then. We can get started on the dress tomorrow.”

She thanked him profusely again for offering to make her a nice dress. Hamon shrugged it off like it was nothing. He bid her farewell and Randel took off running toward the eastern gate.

Randel was out of breath by the time she finally reached Aldith’s hut and knocked a few times. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal Aldith, scowling. She folded her arms and shook her head.

“You’re late,” Aldith said, “I was hoping that you’d understand the importance of being on time.”

“I’m sorry!” Randel gasped, “I was helping the tailor and we started talking and I didn’t realize—”

“No.” Aldith narrowed her big eyes. “Why doesn’t matter. If you want to learn magic, here is the first lesson: precision matters even more here than when using your bow. If you are not exact, something goes wrong. And if something goes wrong, somebody gets hurt. Do you understand?”

Randel lowered her head and answered, “I understand.”

“Good. Don’t let it happen again. I won’t teach someone who doesn’t understand the importance of being on time.”

Aldith stepped aside to let Randel into the cramped stone hut. Two small glass windows let in the least possible amount of outside light, the rest illuminated by a small cast-iron chandelier in the middle of the room. The whole place smelled of herbs, spices, and dust. Books and loose sheets of parchments were scattered across every surface, including the two beds. There was a cackling fire in the fireplace, a simmering pot in the fire.

“Sit down,” Aldith commanded, and Randel obeyed. “Now, magic used by humans is inherently limited. You can bend reality but never break the rules, so to speak. You can’t use magic to fly, for example. No mortal witch could have done what happened to you."

That was disappointing, but it made sense to Randel. If Aldith could do impossible things, she would have seen her do so. And then everyone in town would want to be able to do magic.

Aldith continued, beginning to pace around the room, “The key to magic is projecting your intentions into the universe. Everyone can do this to a limited extent, but having magical tools and training will enhance what you can do. I once made it snow on the hottest day in summer.”

“I remember that,” Randel said, “Could I learn to do that?”

“With time. But the important thing to remember is that magic is not a toy. Everything you do must have a purpose or it’s wasteful. And ideally the purpose is to help the town. If we hadn’t needed ice, there would have been no need to create snow.”

“Then let’s begin!” Randel cried, nearly springing up from her chair.

But Aldith held up a hand to stop her.

“Magic is like any craft,” Aldith said, “You need hands-on practice. But it is also, as you can see from the notes I keep, one of the most intense studies a person can undertake. If you are serious about learning magic, you’ll spend a lot of time memorizing basic theories and important materials.”

“I… I don’t have a lot of time, Aldith,” Randel reminded her, heart sinking.

“Why not?”

“Why…? Aldith, I’m going to go back to being a man in less than a week, right?”

“So?”

Randel scowled.

“So I can’t keep learning magic when I’ve got my own life to get back to!”

“Then why are you here?”

Randel groaned.

“I thought you’d just teach me a few tricks,” she admitted.

“Randel, magic is a serious matter,” Aldith said, “If you’re serious about learning it, you need to be able to commit. It won’t matter if you’re a woman or a man as long as you want to put in the effort.”

Randel shook her head, explaining, “People have expectations of me. I’ve got to go right back to work as if nothing even happened once I’m fixed.”

“Why?” Aldith asked, “You don’t have to give up new things just because you take up hunting again. As long as you’re willing to put the time in, I’ll still teach you magic.”

That gave Randel pause. She’d been thinking of this as all temporary, and everyone else had too. Nothing that happened while she was a woman was part of her real life. But if Aldith was serious…

“How long would I have to study?” she asked.

“Before I allowed you to cast your first spell? Perhaps a couple of weeks. Studying magic overall? Perhaps your entire life.”

Randel nodded, then gulped.

“I’ll try to make it happen,” she whispered, “I want this.”

Aldith nodded, then cracked a thin smile.

“I’ll lend you a book on basic theory,” she said, “I want you to have finished reading the first half in three days. It will be time-consuming, but also a good measure of your commitment. And you’re not doing too much else right now, are you?”

“I’ll do my best, Aldith,” Randel said, taking the book she held out to him.

“Then I expect to be impressed.”

Rohesia had been surprised to find Randel curled up with a book that night, but didn’t press for answers. Randel didn’t offer an explanation either. She wasn’t sure Rohesia would be okay with her dividing her attention between archery and magic.

Rohesia also didn’t say anything the next day when Randel left the house finally wearing the dress Hamon had made her. Still, Randel couldn’t shake the feeling that there was tension that hadn’t been between them before. Once she caught a dark expression on Rohesia’s face, but it was gone before she could be sure.

After practice, Randel met Stace and they headed out of town, across the river, and started scouring the flat immense plain that surrounded the town on three sides. Stace was to show Randel the different grasses and flowers that Aldith used in her magic. Randel was amazed that Stace could remember them all.

“Daisies are used in the oils we make to treat bandages,” Stace explained, holding one up for Randel to take, “It helps to prevent infection. Some people have a bad reaction to it, though, so you’ve got to dilute it with juices from other ingredients.”

Randel placed the flower in her basket.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to remember all of this, Stace,” she admitted.

Stace replied, “It’s going to take time, that’s all. Were you an expert hunter when you started?”

“I suppose not. But I’m an adult now. I should be able to do my job. I feel like a child all over again.”

Stace chuckled.

“I do find it a little amusing,” she admitted, “That you’re also acting as Aldith’s assistant now. It’s not a direction I would have thought you’d take.”

“I’m kind of glad, actually. It’s time-consuming, but it’s our only chance to hang out now that you’re back to work. It’s been kind of lonely without you.”

Stace frowned, then reached down to pluck a prickly weed from the ground.

“Well,” Stace began, “I do have a few friends of my own. I could introduce you to them if you want. Then you might not be so alone.”

Randel felt her stomach squirm.

“I would like to, but I don’t know if…”

Stace continued, “The thing is, Randel, that because I’m Aldith’s assistant some of the town isn’t… very accepting of me. They want all the benefits of having a witch, but part of it scares them as well. The only friends I have are really accepting people. I’m sure that they’ll accept you as well.”

Randel sighed.

“But you’re still a normal girl,” she said, “I’m… not.”

“You won’t land an arrow if you never take a shot,” Stace reminded her.

Randel smirked.

“Archery jokes?” she asked, “Do you really just like to toy with me?”

“A little,” Stace replied, shrugging, “What do you say?”

Randel bit her lip. It was tantalizing. She couldn’t take up all of Stace’s time, and having more than one friend would be nice. But if Stace was wrong…

“Okay,” she finally said, “I want to meet them.”

But there was still a pit in her stomach. How was she supposed to make friends when she wasn’t even going to be here in another week? For all intents and purposes, she was just going to disappear as soon as she got to know any of them. And while she’d been friends with girls as a young boy, it was very different as an adult. Men and women were just too different, even if Randel wasn’t actually attracted to women.

“I’ll talk to them, then,” Stace replied.

They continued working for a little bit when Stace added, “I really like how that dress turned out.”

Randel blushed and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“Do you like it?”

She nodded, her face burning even more.

“It’s good that you’re enjoying yourself, Randel,” Stace insisted, choosing her words carefully, “It takes time to figure out what we want to be, after all. Not everybody explores it as much as they should, sometimes.”

Randel nodded, but was focused on the way the dress swished as she walked. Why hadn’t she put this dress on before? It was amazing! She finally felt like she looked the part.

Maybe what Rohesia thought didn’t matter. Maybe nobody’s feelings mattered but her own. It was a comforting thought, but Randel knew that it was only because she was cut off from the town right now. Once she was surrounded by people again, she was going to have to face their judgment for pretending to be a real girl.

She stopped walking and turned to face the town. It really stood out as a mass of structures against the backdrop of the woods. Something about the wall felt different now. Randel didn’t feel protected now that she was on the other side of it; she felt cut off.

“It’s just for a short time,” Randel reminded Stace.

Stace frowned, but said nothing else.

Rohesia was staying late to teach some of the younger hunters that night, so Randel was alone at the house for a while. Finally, Randel felt alone and at peace. She picked up the book Aldith had given her and searched for the page she’d left off on.

It was hard to concentrate. Rohesia would be back before too long and Randel anticipated that things would still be tense between them. Her arms were still sore from that morning’s training. What was she doing to make Rohesia so hard on her?

A knock on the door interrupted Randel’s musings, and she realized she hadn’t been taking in any of the book. With a sigh, she set it aside and stood up. Who could be here to visit Rohesia at this time of day?

When she opened the door, it was to a large man with a crooked nose and curly brown beard.

“Father…” she whispered, letting her gaze drop to her feet.

“Randel.”

Randel stepped back and Hann let himself in without hesitation.

“You’re wearing a dress.”

Randel nodded, not lifting her eyes.

“Take it off,” Hann growled, “You’re not staying like this. You need to focus on retaining your normal life as much as possible. I won’t have people put confusing ideas in your head. Who made the dress?”

“It was just a leftover,” Randel lied.

“From who?” Hann demanded.

Randel gulped.

“I took it from the tailor,” she lied, “when he wasn’t looking. I didn’t ask. I knew that he wouldn’t allow me to keep it.”

Hann grunted, then loomed closer.

“Take it off,” he told her again, “You need to act normal, like a real man.”

Randel was shaking. She couldn’t even look her father in the eye. What was wrong with her? How did she think she was ever going to go anywhere in life if she was such a coward?!

“I’d better not see you wearing a dress again,” Hann finished, then turned around and walked out of the house.

Randel closed the door after him, then collapsed against it and started to shake. She fell to the floor and sobbed. Why did he hate her so much?

Randel wanted to keep the dress. She wanted to wear it every day of her life. She liked herself better this way. She wanted people to look at her like a real woman. She wanted to be a real woman!

“Oh gods…” she muttered, “I actually want to be a woman.”

Randel crawled over to her bed and curled up, pushing Aldith’s book off to the side. She covered her mouth and tried to steady her breathing. After a few minutes, her heart had calmed down and she could sit up.

“I’m going to lose this,” she realized, “All of it. I can’t stay this way. Nobody is going to let me.”

Randel stood up, her legs weak, and walked out the front door. She started walking away from the house, not sure where she was going.

“Randel?”

She glanced over to see Rohesia walking up, her own bow slung across her back. Randel turned away and picked up her pace. She needed to be alone.

It was getting dark, but she kept walking. Randel thought she knew the town well enough to navigate even without light. Nobody else was around. They all had homes where they belonged.

“I can’t go back,” Randel muttered, “Not to living in the bunkhouse. But I can’t stay with Ro.”

When Randel stopped, she was standing outside of the town’s shrine. She could see the altar through the open doorway. Randel kept finding herself drawn here for whatever reason.

She walked inside and sat down in front of the altar. Then Randel started pulling at her tousled hair and whined. There had never been a time where she felt more lost. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

“What am I going to do?” she asked, but nothing answered.

Finally, Randel lied down on the floor and curled up. She cried for a while, trying not to make too much noise. The bare wooden floor was uncomfortable, but eventually Randel started to doze.