It was well after two in the morning when Grace came back in, obviously exhausted. I was still awake, however, flipping through the television channels. My mind hadn’t let me relax enough to fall asleep. Far too many thoughts still bounced around in my head as I sat in the dark living room with only the TV and the skyline out the windows for light. I looked over when I heard the door open and greeted her with a small wave, but didn’t really want to bother her. Although I actually kind of did want to, after what Krystal had said earlier. 

Grace gave a return wave and then stopped for a moment, looking at the clock. “What are you doing awake, Allan? It's after two AM.”

I was too fatigued mentally to hold back the exhausted sigh that I gave. “Just… got a lot on my mind. Couldn’t get to sleep.”

I could feel Grace’s eyes on me for a moment. “Let me go get changed. I think it’s about time we finished that talk from earlier.” I was about to protest, only to find I was too late. Her footsteps quickly followed her words and I heard the bedroom door open and shut. 

“Ugh… What did I get myself into now? Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?” My quiet voice seemed to go unheard, thankfully. I sat waiting for the inevitable return of my host. 

Grace returned a minute later wearing pajamas and her robe. Rather than sitting down like I had expected her to, though, she walked into the kitchen. I heard several bottles clank around for a few minutes before she returned, two cups in hand. One was shoved in my hands. The tall glass was filled with a bright green drink on ice. 

“It’s a Green Paradise. Basic, but not too strong tasting. Strong enough to help both of us get through this though and sweet enough to keep us awake.” She took a sip of hers before setting it down on the coffee table and sitting in the bigger of the two armchairs. I followed her example. It tasted like lemon lime soda spiked with some manner of tropical liquor. The flavor was sharp and sweet without the alcohol being overpowering at all. I could attest to this being a good nerve tonic. I let it sit a moment before placing my glass on the table and leaning back. 

“So what did you want to talk about? I would assume what has been on my mind?” I kept my tone as even as I could without showing too much of my true state of mind. 

“Yes, I did. Krystal sent me a text message earlier saying that you had used the necklace and didn’t exactly seem happy with the results. When I came up a few minutes ago, you looked like you were exhausted, but not just physically. Allan, you looked almost depressed. I was worried about you.” Once again I could hear the motherly tone to Grace’s voice and it took me back to that morning with the other members of her family. 

There was so much I had lacked in my childhood that was blatantly apparent in this family. These people loved and respected each other. There was no difference between them when it came to respect, either; the parents respected the children as much as the children respected them. The amount of acceptance they showed was stunning to me, and I realized that it shouldn’t be. A healthy family would have given that. I had never really considered myself to have a terrible childhood, but I could now see that it wasn’t as good as I’d once thought.

Of course, there was no use denying what she had said either. “Yeah, I did use the necklace and…” I thought for a moment, gathering my thoughts and courage. This woman was so kind, she deserved the truth. “I wasn’t happy with the results, no. It wasn’t me. The form programmed was pretty, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t me. I think it was the eyes that told me that.” I took another large gulp from the drink.

Grace took a few moments to process what I had said. When she spoke again, her tone was measured, each word thoughtfully considered. “You say the eyes made you feel like it wasn’t you. Why is that?”

I blinked, considering the question. A touch of confusion escaped in my voice as I replied. “The eyes weren’t mine. They felt soulless. It’s hard to explain, but they lacked something of me. I was doing alright with everything until I saw the eyes in the mirror. It freaked me out and I changed back. I suppose that answers the question of whether I liked it, though. I’m sorry you went through the trouble of getting it for me, only for me not to like it. I appreciate the thought, really.”

As I spoke, I could see Grace’s eyes searching me, looking for answers beyond what I had spoken. “And yet you are still wearing the necklace.” I blushed at that. She was right, I was. She locked eyes with me and began again in a slightly more serious tone. “Do me a favor, Allan. Forget who you were for a moment. Forget where you come from. Forget everything you’ve been taught. This is a safe place, just me and you. Okay?”

I was confused, but nodded. “Now activate the enchantment.”

“What? Why? Didn’t I just tell you that I didn’t like it?” My confusion was obvious now. I had zero clue what she was after here. 

“Please, I’m not trying to tell you to do anything bad. I think there is an aspect to this experiment of yours that you missed though. Just humor me this once.” 

I hesitated, but brought my hands to the necklace, placed a finger to the rune and twisted the crystal. The static covered me again and then it was over, just as before. I was forced to adjust my clothes to make up for the size difference, the suddenly baggy clothing being uncomfortable, sitting on the couch as I was.

“There, now what?” My voice shook me, though it really shouldn’t have. My usual baritone had been replaced by a soft soprano. I hadn’t actually spoken while in the bathroom and I was only now hearing it. There was a pleasant feel to the softer tones, though, and I felt my eyes widen slightly in surprise. 

Grace’s voice was soft and low as I looked back into her piercing eyes. “Now, ignore what you saw in the mirror. How do you feel? How does that body feel to be in?”

Looking back, I don’t know if it was the alcohol or her nearly hypnotic voice and eyes that allowed me to utter my next words, but they were spoken directly from my soul with no interference from my usual mental blocks and filters. “It feels… It feels like a girl’s body. The skin is much softer than mine and I like the way the legs flow. The shoulders are much less bulky than mine too. The balance is definitely different too, though that isn’t really a bad thing. I must say that the clothes I’m wearing are horribly uncomfortable, though. They are bunched up and baggy on this body.”

My conversational partner chuckled at that. “So change.” I shrugged and reached up to the necklace. “No, not the body, the clothes. You have my old shirt still, wear that.”

I blushed at that. “I, uh, my underwear won’t stay up, though.” 

She laughed a bit more. “So? We’re both girls in here right now. Nothing I haven’t seen before. If you want to do this right, you need to be comfortable. Leave the lights off if you need to, or, if you really don’t want to risk seeing the mirror, just do it right here. I’ll turn away and it's not like anyone is looking in the window.”

‘Both girls?’ The thought stuck in my head and I could feel part of my mind grab at that thought. It was of course physically accurate currently, but something about that simple phrase touched a piece of my soul in ways I couldn’t explain, or maybe just for reasons I wasn’t ready to accept. I felt my cheeks and ears burn at the hint of pleasure I got from it.

I fought down my embarrassment and grabbed the shirt from where it sat on top of my bag. Despite her reassurances, I took it to the bathroom, having to hold my pants up all the way. I did end up leaving the lights off, not wanting to see the eyes that were not mine in the mirror again. I let my pants fall and actually pulled them off of my feet this time, enjoying the feel of the soft legs as my hands incidentally brushed them while pushing everything off. My shirt came next and I felt an odd sensation in my chest as the rough but tough fabric of my hiking shirt dragged across certain features of my current anatomy. I shivered slightly as the cool air met bare skin. 

I quickly grabbed Grace’s shirt and pulled it on, and then had to take a second to appreciate the fabric against my skin. The softer skin of the form I wore was much more sensitive to the texture across it than before and I found the shirt to be even more comfortable and so much softer than even it had previously. Of course, being smaller than before meant that the shirt now fit even looser than before as well, the hem now hanging loosely midway down my thighs.  I moved about experimentally and found the garment to be airy and incredibly soft on my temporary form. 

Grabbing my things, I walked back out to Grace. I found myself marveling at the way my current form moved without the awkwardness of my ill-fitting clothes. Even the floor beneath my feet felt different to the callus-free feet I walked on. I sat and looked at Grace, who had her feet tucked up under her as she lounged in the armchair. Figuring it to be part of the experiment, I mimicked her and pulled my feet up similarly before leaning against one arm of the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable. 

“Better?” Humor bubbled in Grace’s voice. I gave a blushing nod in response. “Now let me change the question slightly. What do you like about the way you feel right now?”

Again I assessed the sensations running through my body, judging the responses from my sensory inputs. “I... I feel smaller. More compact. Things move differently like this and the soft skin is nice. My skin is a lot more sensitive too and wow, this shirt is even more comfortable than before. I can tell why you wore it a lot. Might even get something similar for myself whenever I go back home.”

“You do realize that I asked for things you liked, right?”

“I--” My voice stuck in my throat as I allowed the hasty mental blocks I had automatically begun throwing up to fade away again. I wanted to be honest about this. “Yeah. I do. It’s completely different from my real body. If I can really be honest, I never particularly liked that people always thought I was built perfectly for heavy-hitting full contact sports. I’ve never wanted to play football or wrestle.”

Grace gave me an understanding nod. Her eyes glimmered in the dim light and I could see nothing but acceptance of my embarrassing admissions in them. “I don’t know what ‘football’ is, but i do understand what you mean by full contact sports and I do know what wrestling is. I never really like playing those kinds of games, either. You really make it sound like you are rather comfortable in that body.”

“Well, I’m not. I like how parts of it feel and such, but I can’t feel comfortable in it, not really. I can’t see myself in the mirror. I want to be able to look in the mirror and know who I am looking at. This isn’t the real me.” My response was casual and honest. There was no reason to hide any of this. I took another drink from my glass and put it back, realizing that it was nearly empty by that point.

Again, Grace remained calm and soothing as she asked her next question. “What if I told you that we can fix the eyes, make any changes you want, get a custom look put together just for you? Would you still feel uncomfortable?”

Being able to see myself in the mirror was what I wanted. If the form given by the enchanted necklace could be changed to resolve that issue, I realized that I would indeed be more comfortable.The thought stunned me and I sat for several moments thinking as my emotions played out on my face. 

“Allan, what if I told you that you didn’t have to go back to that other body? What if I told you that you were allowed to just be a girl?”

I almost physically collapsed as the question hit me like a runaway train. My heart locked up and I found myself mute in the face of such an insane question. Unfortunately, my mind hadn’t locked up as hard and broke through the temporary muteness a moment later with the voice of my parents. 

“I’m not allowed to be one, though. I am a guy, that is what I have always been. That is who my parents raised and what everyone expects me to be. I have a job back home, a life. I can’t just go back there as a girl, people would lose their minds!”

Grace’s voice was a bit sharp as she cut me off. “I told you to forget all of that. I’m asking about right here, right now. Are you comfortable as you are?”

Thoughts raced through my mind as I tried to come out with a single answer, but through it all, I think I had always known what the answer was. I’d just let it become complicated by all of the other thoughts and questions. “Yeah, I like how this feels. It’s comfortable sitting like this. I could get used to it. I’ve never liked mirrors anyways, so why would that change now?”

“That can change. It did for me. Most people aren’t okay doing what you are doing now, changing their body so completely. I will tell you, Andrew has tried on one of those necklaces before. He didn’t like how it felt. He was never comfortable actually wearing that form and it had nothing to do with what he saw in the mirror. None of it felt like him. If you are comfortable like this, there’s nothing stopping you from staying like this.” Her serious tone kept my attention well, but my own insecurities and force-fed beliefs kept me from accepting it still.

“Grace, I appreciate the opportunity, but this can’t be me. What little I know of transgender people is that they know from a young age. They hate what they look like on the outside so they get surgery and such to fix that. Makes them feel better. Of course, my parents always said that you shouldn’t mutilate your body like that. You are supposed to be what you are. I never had a ton of exposure to it, though; it’s such a rare thing, after all. I mean, I get not liking your own body, I never liked being so big and bulky. I guess I just feel bad for them.”

A look of frustration passed over Grace’s face, followed by one of disgust. “Allan, for one, not everyone knows. Some do, but others don’t figure it out until they are much older. Honestly, I do somewhat pity those trans people in your world. I can’t imagine living in a place where going under the knife is the best option for helping someone’s outer self match their inner self. As for your parents, I can only ask one thing, was everything they did and said correct? Were they perfect? Because it seems to me that we’ve already reached the conclusion that your family life was far from perfect. 

“They were wrong. That’s all there is to it. And trans people aren’t all that rare here. I can’t say for certain, but I would assume that they weren’t in your world either. Unfortunately, though, many trans people keep that side of themselves hidden and repressed all their lives because of people like your parents. People are ignorant of the things they don’t want to deal with. I’m not saying your parents are horrible people, but I am saying that they likely do not understand exactly what it means to be transgender. Everyone deserves personal happiness and fulfillment, Allan.” 

Grace was on a roll now and I could only sit there and listen to her, processing this new point of view that I had never even considered. She continued on. “You grew up in that, but just like accepting that people can be homosexual or bisexual, you need to move past your parents’ beliefs on being trans. Being uncomfortable in your body like that is called dysphoria. That’s a real thing and those feelings are valid. Not wanting to be big and bulky, liking the feeling of being soft and smooth and regretting that you aren’t usually like that? That sounds like dysphoria to me.”

What she was saying made a lot of sense; too much sense, really. I didn’t like the feeling that everything I had thought might be wrong. She was right, though, I was more comfortable like this despite still feeling disconnected to the form I wore. I didn’t want to believe her, but there was a kernel of truth there that I couldn’t deny. So, instead of dealing with my own feelings, I deflected.

“How do you know what I’m feeling? How do you know all of these things?”

Grace took a deep breath and centered herself for a moment before speaking again, her voice once again filled with care. “I didn’t know your feelings for sure, but I am far from blind. The very first night you were here, I saw the jealousy in your eyes when I walked out of the room in my night clothes. The next morning I saw how you held on to that shirt because you liked how it felt, despite knowing that it is a women’s nightshirt. In the bar last night I could see the curiosity in your face when you asked about Ian and their necklace and then later, the genuine desire in your voice when you told me that you wouldn’t mind trying one yourself.” 

The amount of tenderness and care in her voice almost felt like it was embracing me in a warm hug. Her words shook me though and part of me was scared of the implications even while another was completely agreeing with her. 

“As for how I know all of this, I know because I am transgender myself, Allan.” She reached down her top and withdrew a simple crystal pendant, the crystal on hers being a more aquamarine color. My heart jumped into my throat when it finally clicked in my head what she was saying. She really did know. 

“I was born in the wrong body. I figured it out at age fifteen that I really didn’t like being male. I had always had more female friends, I never was interested in playing sports or roughhousing with the boys. I enjoyed cooking, I enjoyed making people happy. I wanted to be softer and smaller too. I wanted to wear the cute clothes and shoes I saw other girls wearing. Above all else, I wanted to be a girl. In truth, I always was one, I just didn’t know it.

“I got my first necklace that year and then purchased this one just over a year later. The more advanced and more expensive enchantments are much more intelligent than the pre-programmed necklaces. The spell reads your heart and mind and bases the new form off of your soul’s desires and your family genetics. It is a terribly complicated spell and takes magnitudes of power more than a basic enchantment, but the result is nothing short of you. Further, more cosmetic adjustments can be made with a professional’s help, but it will all be based on what you want, not what others think you should be.”

I was flabbergasted. I wanted to ask her how that was true. She didn’t at all seem like a guy. But wasn’t that the point? She didn’t have to act like a guy, she wasn’t one. My mind flooded with repressed memories of childhood. Memories of stealing my sister’s jeans and shirt that one time, memories of wanting to join the girls in the gymnastics they did for PE while the boys did basketball. The memory of telling my father that I wanted to try the home ec class instead of doing automotive and him telling me that home ec was for girls and that I didn’t need to be taking such a girly class. I had hated that. Disbelief melted through the confusion freezing my face. She was right. I didn’t like being a guy. I didn’t want to be one. 

“Oh god… I want to be a girl too.”

I felt arms around me as the tears began to flow down my softer cheeks. Cheeks like the ones I was so jealous my sister and mother had. 

“Then that’s what you can be, hun. That’s what you are.”