Flower Power
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Selzyr tapped his foot impatiently, his sabaton clanking against the wooden floorboard, as he watched the door. Once again the young master was late. Selzyr wasn’t sure how much longer he was willing to put up with the little brat’s petulance.

He’d been told it was an unmatched honor to train the ten-year-old Hero, and had been given a sizable paycheck to match. It seemed like a nice, cushy job for the aging sword master; just teach the boy how to use a blade and prepare him to battle demonkind. Nice and simple, right? Certainly far preferable to guarding the Wall or fighting in bloody skirmishes against Arkaelian privateers in the Vulchyn archipelago. When the offer had come from the Church, he couldn’t believe his luck.

Except it was all too good to be true. The brat kept blowing off his lessons and not taking his training seriously. For all his raw physical power, the Hero was just some whiny, foppish child, and Selzyr was near his breaking point. He was tired of this unfocused, disobedient boy. So very, very tired.

The door to the training arena creaked open, and Diarn skipped inside… nearly twenty minutes late, Selzyr noted. He glared daggers at the young Hero.

“Hiya, Selzyr!” Diarn said breezily, before noticing the old man’s sour mood. “Are you okay?”

“You…” Selzyr began, stroking his long beard in a vain attempt to calm down, “are late. Again.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Diarn replied, smiling. “I was trimming the petunia stems and lost track of time.” His hand darted to his hair, and he fiddled with something violet there. Selzyr’s eyes followed, and what he saw only increased his rage further.

“Is that a FLOWER in your hair?” he said through gritted teeth. One more, Diarn was concerned with appearances over training.

“Oh, yeah!” Diarn responded with a small giggle, fingering the bloom. “A petunia from the garden. Isn’t it beautiful?”

With pounding metallic footsteps, Selzyr walked over to Diarn, grabbed the flower in his gauntlet and crushed it into paste. The boy looked up at him, shocked.

“What did you do that for?”

“You are the HERO!” Selzyr said furiously. “You don’t have time for dalliances with flowers and frilly clothes and gardens! And to wear a flower in your hair… that’s women’s fashion, wholly inappropriate for you.” 

Diarn looked up at him with a quivering bottom lip, and Selzyr scowled right back.

“Gods damn it, child, don’t give me that pitiful expression. You are a MAN, and you need to start acting like it! As the avatar of the Gods’ might here on Goezia, you must embody their values in body and spirit both. This flower nonsense ends here.”

“But…” Diarn began to protest. He barely had time to wince as he saw Selzyr’s gauntlet flying towards his cheek, striking him with a blow powerful enough to force him to his knees.

“No more backtalk, child,” Selzyr barked. Diarn’s eyes welled up with tears as he rubbed the bruise on his rapidly swelling cheek, but the sword master had no pity to give. “Quit sobbing and pick up your sword. We will be training for double the usual time today as punishment for your presumption.”

Diarn wiped his eyes dry, buried his emotions and did as he was told, fearful of further reprisal from the monstrous man.

******

Chops the groundskeeper was heading back to the storage shed to stash his shovel when he heard a soft sobbing coming from deep in the garden, behind some of his meticulously trimmed hedges. He followed the sound, turning a corner to see the form of a small boy curled up in the grass, heaving with each breath.

Wordlessly, Chops set his shovel on the ground and slowly walked over to the boy, squatting down and squeezing his shoulder. As Diarn looked up at him with reddened eyes, Chops noticed the bruise on his cheek and his eyes narrowed.

“Who did that to you, Di?”

“S-Selzyr…” Diarn managed through his sobs.

Chops clenched his fist, wiry biceps flexing under his leathery skin. “Why that fucking piece of shit. How dare he?! I’ll go cave his skull in with my shovel!” He began to stand back up, only to feel a tugging at his sleeve. Diarn was clinging to it desperately.

Chops obligingly sat down, cross-legged, and gathered the boy in his arms. “There there, Di. I’ve got you.” Diarn buried his face in Chops’ chest, and the wizened groundskeeper rubbed his back obligingly. 

As Chops held the quivering Diarn, he mentally raged against the horrible circumstances of the boy’s life. Diarn had never known his real parents, not since the Church found out about his blessing and stole him away as an infant. Chops had been personally compelled to provide some semblance of fatherly love to the nascent Hero, something his official tutors did not bother with. For that reason, high tensions persisted between the ostensibly presumptuous groundskeeper and the prideful Breeders, yet Chops consistently refused to back down.

Every child needed love, after all, Hero or not. Chops would never compromise on this point, not so long as he still drew breath.

He was pulled away from his thoughts when he noticed Diarn had slowly stopped crying. The sniffling child looked up at the harsh-mouthed gardener and gave a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Chops.”

“Don’t mention it, Di,” Chops responded warmly, his heart breaking. “Now, shall I go cave his skull in?”

Diarn shook his head. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. Not for me.”

Chops rolled his eyes. “We gotta do something about your self-confidence, kid. These fuckers are grinding you into the dirt. I don’t like it.”

“I’m the Hero…” Diarn responded weakly. “It’s my job to save the world…”

“So the fuck what? That means you can’t have a normal childhood? Bull-fucking-shit,” Chops responded angrily. “These Church anus-faces have their heads on backwards. I’m tired of seeing them treat you like shit.”

Diarn frowned. “Selzyr says I have to man up. He says playing with flowers isn’t stuff a Hero does.”

“To reiterate… bull-fucking-shit,” Chops responded. “Who is that old fart to tell you what you can and can’t do with your life? You deserve to be happy, Di, Hero’s Blessing or not. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.” He rose to his feet and guided Diarn by the hand to a nearby flowerbed, where he expertly plucked a petunia and tucked it into the boy’s hair. “There ya go. All better.”

Diarn fingered the flower, warmth blossoming in his chest. “Thank you, Chops.”

“Any time, kid,” the groundskeeper said, a smile crossing his craggy face. “We all gotta look out for each other, cuz the Church sure as fuck won’t. Let’s get you to a healing mage to have that bruise taken care of. And if you want me to tear that arrogant sword master a new one, just lemme know. I’m very good at inflicting bodily damage with garden tools.” Chops thumped his chest proudly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Diarn giggled.

******

Fifteen years later, Tessaria stared at Diarn in abject disbelief.

“You want to try on one of my dresses?” she asked. Diarn answered with a silent nod.

Tess looked at the dress, then back at Diarn. His build was pretty close to hers, so it would probably fit him well. Any lacking in the chest area could be made up with padding, and…

No wait, that wasn’t the point here! Tess got her mind back on track.

“Why?”

“I just… think it might look cute…” Diarn muttered, staring very intensely at the floorboards.

“You, uh… you know how to put it on?” Tess asked carefully, wondering if this meant what she thought it meant.

Diarn nodded. “I’ve taken a lot of dresses off other people before. It’s just that in reverse, right?”

“Yes, no, I… uh… go ahead…” Tess muttered, still trying to process this new development. Diarn obligingly entered her closet, shutting the door behind him, and Tess planted her butt on the corner of her bed and began to think at a mile a minute.

******

It turned out putting on a dress was harder than it looked… but Diarn found it well worth the struggle, because after slipping it on, for just a moment, he felt right.

He looked in the mirror, at his figure clad in the flowery white-and-green dress, and saw what he’d hoped to see: someone cute and charming looking back at him. But then, in an instant, it all fell apart.

Too many details were wrong. His square shoulders, his hairy arms and legs, his strong stubble-covered jawline and massive nose and giant hands. He looked awkward, wrong, like a huge ugly man playing dress-up in clothes that weren’t meant for him. 

This… this isn’t what he’d wanted at all. He’d made a horrible mistake.

He sank to his knees and began to sob, harder than he had anytime during the last fifteen years, as feelings of despair overwhelmed him. He averted his eyes from the mirror and curled up in a fetal position, entire body quivering. Why had he done this? Why had he tried this? It was all so wrong.

So very, very wrong.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been crying when he noticed the hand on his shoulder, and the sympathetic face of Tess looking down on him. He choked back his sobs, looked up at her through bleary eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I… l-look like a… a… a man,” he responded with great difficulty.

“Ah,” Tess said as everything clicked. She’d been unsure about Diarn’s motivations before, but now she was almost certain. He… no, they were exactly like her. Tess had once been in this position herself, with Rixu and Velour rescuing her from the depths of despair. Now it was her turn to pay it forward.

But first, she needed to be absolutely sure. “You don’t want to look like a man, Diarn?”

“N-N-No…” came the stuttering reply.

“What do you want to look like instead?” Tess pressed. “Like me? Like a girl?”

There was a pause, then Diarn gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“Right. That’s doable.” Tess grabbed Diarn’s hand and pulled them to their feet. “Come with me.”

Diarn didn’t object. First came a shower, during which Tess lathered Diarn up with a skin-softening floral body wash and expertly trimmed away every molecule of their body hair with a straight razor. She didn’t even so much as nick their skin while doing so, practiced as she was. Then she sat Diarn down in front of her vanity and began to work on their face, plucking eyebrows and applying eyeshadow and foundation with a practiced hand. Next came a wig, the same color as Diarn’s own hair but long enough to reach past their shoulders. Finally, Tess helped Diarn back into the dress, albeit with a couple of inserts this time to pad out the chest area. She then trotted Diarn back over to the closet mirror.

“How’s that?” she asked expectantly. “Better?”

Diarn had automatically averted their eyes, fearful of their reflection, and at Tess’ prompting reluctantly dragged them back to the mirror. What they saw took their breath away.

Diarn was cute.

They inhaled sharply, a gasp of shock and joy.

“Like it?” Tess pressed.

Diarn nodded. There were still some things that groused them, like the jawline or the broad shoulders… but the makeover had done wonders. For brief instances of euphoria, Diarn could see someone new in the mirror, someone they’d secretly wished to be since those childhood days of putting flowers from the garden in their hair. It was only after meeting Tessaria that Diarn knew it was possible, and now it seemed almost, almost within reach.

Almost, but not quite. Something was still missing.

“That’s the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on your dopey face, so I’m gonna say you like it,” Tess said with a triumphant smirk.

“This is… I-I can’t…” Diarn fumbled. “Can I really be… like you?” Then, barely audible, “A girl?”

“‘Course you can,” Tess responded. “Who’s gonna stop you?”

There was another jolt of euphoria, of fleeting happiness, then it all came crashing down once more. Diarn’s moistening eyes fell back to the floor, and their smile disappeared. “I don’t… I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to be c-c-cute.”

“Excuse me?” Tess stormed around Diarn, placing her hands on her hips and glaring directly in their face. They involuntarily shrank back a bit as she spoke. “What do you mean you don’t deserve this? That’s bullshit talk.”

“I-It’s not,” Diarn protested. “I’m… I’m not a good person, Tess. I f-failed as the Hero, drove all my friends away with my ego, got kicked out of the Church, and lost everything to a pickpocket because I couldn’t even handle walking down the street without a bodyguard. I’m pathetic, a horrible person. I deserve only punishment. I have no right to…” Their eyes flew back to the mirror, and their voice faded to silence.

Tess sighed heavily; she was all too familiar with this sort of self-flagellation. “That’s not true at all, Diarn. I will freely admit you’ve done some bad things in your life, but you’re trying to be better. What matters is who you are today, not who you used to be. And the person I see in the mirror there… I think she deserves to be happy. Don’t you?”

Diarn shook their head sadly. “That’s kind of you to say, but-”

“I’m not a kind person, Diarn,” Tess interrupted, rolling her eyes. “You should know that by now; I’m unrepentantly honest, jaded as all fuck and constantly call out any bullshit I see. Rest assured, I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. If I say something is true, it’s fucking true.” 

For a moment, Diarn could almost believe her. Their eyes light up with the tiniest spark of hope, and Tess locked onto it like a hungry laser yak spotting a patch of especially luscious razor grass.

“You’re not an imposter,” she said, wagging her finger and emphasizing every word. “You’re not a fake, and you’re not the bad person you used to be. And you have me and Vel’s complete support no matter what happens. Okay?”

Diarn wrung their hands together. “…O-Okay.”

“Glad to hear it,” Tess said triumphantly. “On to the next topic. What’s your name?”

Diarn frowned. “Diarn.”

Tess shook her head. “Not your birth name, dumbass. Your real name. Your girl name.”

“Oh. I’ve never… I don’t…” Diarn flailed. “This is all very new to me. Was I supposed to have one picked out?”

Tess shrugged. “Not really? It’s not like there’s a handbook for this shit. That said, I think trying out a new name might help you out. It certainly helped me.”

Diarn sank into deep thought for a moment. “How about… Diane?”

Tess did a double-take. “That’s just the feminine form of ‘Diarn.’”

“Uh-huh. Chops used to call me ‘Di’ as a nickname. I liked that…”

“Oh, that makes… sense, I suppose,” Tess mused, balancing the mundanity of Diane’s chosen name against the emotional value it clearly held for her. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Diane.”

Hearing that name, a girl’s name, applied to her caused the last piece to fall into place. This was what she’d been missing. In that moment, despite her own shortcomings and doubts, Diane was able to think of herself as a girl. Maybe she was faking it, maybe she didn’t really deserve this… but damn it all. She wanted to be a girl, and she was going to be a girl. The world already hated and abandoned her, but here in this unlikely brothel she’d found acceptance; she might as well live as happily as she could.

She might as well live as Diane.

Her smile grew wider until her cheeks were sore, and Tess was infected, flashing a smile of her own. “Well, look at the size of that grin. Guess the new name is a success,” Tess said triumphantly. “Do you want to keep going with this? There are more steps… apothecary potions that contain female hormones, for starters. It’s a long process, but a worthwhile one. The potions cause you to grow titties.” She honked one of her own for emphasis.

“I-” Diane looked down at herself. There was still so much wrong with her body, but she felt like she was heading in the right direction. Small steps and all that. “I think I do, yeah. This… it’s not perfect, but this feels right. I want to continue, to see where it goes. And having… uh, breasts does sound nice. Know what I mean?” She gazed wistfully at the padding just barely visible under the hem of her dress.

“Oh believe me, I know better than anyone,” Tess responded. “Shall we go introduce you to Vel?”

******

Vel looked up as Tessaria and Diane walked into the dining room, one eyebrow raised. He kept his mouth shut and shot a meaningful look at Tess, who simply nodded in response.

“Velour, may I introduce… Diane,” Tess said dramatically, stepping aside and motioning to the blushing girl in a floral dress.

“Nice to meet ya, Diane,” Vel said smoothly, stepping forwards and extending his hand. The shy girl took it and shook limply. “You decided to become a girl?”

Diane responded with the barest of nods.

“Cool,” Vel said, running off a mental checklist. “You going for the whole package? Hormone potions, laser magic body hair removal, bottom shaping magic?”

“Th-The hormones sound nice, and I wouldn’t miss my body hair if it was gone permanently,” Diane said wistfully. “What’s bottom shaping magic?”

“You pay a shaping mage a whole shitload of money to chop your dick off and mold you a vagina instead,” Tess explained, pointing to her own crotch for emphasis.

“Oh!” Diane ran that idea through her head and found she liked the sound of it. “That seems… yeah. That sounds nice.”

Vel clapped his hands together. “Alrighty! We’ll need to get you the hormone potions from the apothecary, and some new clothes. Can’t very well have you borrowing stuff out of Tess’ closet every day! Cosmetics too, although I do have some spares lying around… hmm…”

“W-Wait!” Diane protested, overcoming her bashfulness with sheer effort. “That all sounds very expensive…”

Vel shrugged. “I get bulk rates at most places, and I already buy all this stuff for Tess anyway. Laser magic ain’t pricey either, seeing as there’s an abundance of ex-Army practitioners. It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t gore yourself on a gift yak’s horns,” Tess added.

“But… I can’t… afford to repay you…” Diane muttered, eyes sinking downwards.

Vel waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not rich enough to get any shaping magic done right away, at least without saving up for a few years, but the potions, clothes and cosmetics aren’t a problem. You just keep up the cleaning and gardening and we’ll call it square.”

“That’s so generous of you…” Diane said, smiling despite herself. “Thank you so much for accepting me… like this.”

“We gotta look out for each other, Diane,” Vel responded with a smile. “The Church hates us and society misunderstands us, so we watch each other’s backs. We misfits and outcasts are strong when we stick together.”

Diane’s eyes grew distant with memory. “Chops said the same thing…” she muttered.

“Who?”

“Old friend,” Diane responded with a fond smile. “I really appreciate you helping out, Vel.”

“Sure thing. We’ll even start saving up to send you to the same black market shaper mage Tess used, although that might take a few years.”

“She’s really good,” Tess added. “It’ll be expensive, but nothing beats getting your plumbing rewired. It feels so great, trust me.”

“I’ll… I’ll help contribute any money I can,” Diane said, wishing very much those couple of years of waiting would flash by in an instant. “Maybe I can take on some odd jobs…”

Tess saw the pain cross Diane’s face and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “I know waiting is a chore, but there’s only so much we can do without money. It’s a damn shame we can’t all just wave magic staves and get the bodies we want, but working long and hard for it bears its own kind of satisfaction.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Diane said, a bit dejected. A magical spell to swap one’s gender with no fuss would indeed be nice. Alas, that was wishful thinking.

Something else occurred to Diane. “OH! OH!” she yelped before rushing out the back door.

“What…” Vel murmured.

“Beats me,” Tess shrugged.

A few moments later, Diane walked back inside, her hair now filled with a half-dozen flowers of varying colors. She twirled around, lifting the hem of her dress, and spread her arms wide. “Tah-dah! How do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” Tess said cheerfully. “The flowers really suit you, Diane, and they go well with the dress too.”

“Indeed,” Vel added. “I never would have pegged you for a flowery girl, but now that I see it firsthand… absolutely perfect. You’re like a flower blooming for the first time!”

Tess groaned. “Oy, don’t get all poetic on me. That shit’s so corny.”

Diane giggled. “You’re both fantastic, you know that?”

Vel brushed off the compliment. “Just supporting a friend as best we can, Diane.”

“Yeah,” Tess added, thinking back to how much rougher her own coming out had been; at least Diane saved herself the trouble of getting piss-drunk on 190-proof alcohol. “Remember this moment, Diane. Today is the first day of your new life. All those things that weighed you down in the old one are in the past. You don’t have to be the Hero anymore, nor should you be tied down by your old failures. Consider this a rebirth and cherish it.”

Vel chuckled. “Now who’s getting poetic?”

“Shut up, Vel,” Tess responded, flipping off the chuckling man.

Diane’s vision swam, and she realized she was crying again… but tears of happiness this time. Before she knew it, she was in an embrace, pressed between Vel and Tess, and she smiled at them through her tears.

******

Two weeks later, Nyze stared up at the glistening white walls of Arcryid, and the slum district nestled outside them, and sighed.

“Never thought I’d be back here again,” she grumbled as she brought her serpenthede around to the main road leading into the city. “I fucking hate this place. That damned White Monolith is always looming over everything.”

Metokai pulled beside her and squinted, making out the huge mile-high form of the rectangular building that headquartered the Church of Holy Humanity. “It certainly is as garish as I’d imagined. Featureless, no ornamentation… and is it glowing?”

“With creation magic, yeah,” Nyze said bitterly.

“How gauche. I can’t wait until Psytalla tears it down,” Metokai said, shifting her gaze away from the eyesore. “I can barely make out the other twelve smaller Monoliths that surround it. Is the whole city constructed like a giant magic circle?”

Nyze shrugged. “Beats me. The Church ain’t exactly forthcoming about that kind of stuff.”

“I’d imagine not.” Metokai turned around to Rixu and Valex, who were a few paces behind. “Rixu, this brothel of yours, the one where Tessaria lives, is outside the walls?” she hollered back.

“Yup,” Rixu responded. “We shouldn’t even have to pass through any checkpoints to get there.”

“Good. I could do without any more surprises,” Metokai complained. “First was Nilah in Lyzikanth, then those imps in Vuzukanth…”

“Hey now, the imps were a pleasant surprise,” Nyze countered. “They were adorable, and a huge help too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Metokai said dismissively. “For once I’d just like everything to go to plan. No unexpected developments, no surprises, no long-lost friends or secret demon cells popping up out of nowhere.”

Nyze chuckled. “Arcryid is a huge city. I doubt we’ll run into anyone we know.”

“I hope not,” Metokai said as she gripped the reins and set her serpenthede on a steady trot forwards.

Dear readers, on December 9th it will be the one-year-anniversary of this story's debut! We've all come a long way in that year, don't you think? Especially Diane! Stay tuned to see where her new path will lead.

In case you're wondering what imp encounter Metokai is referring to, their meeting will be covered in a future chapter of The Demonic Guide to Self-Improvement, the short spinoff to this story. Please look forward to it!

I've set up a Discord server focused on my stories and gay shenanigans. If you'd like to chat with me and my queer friends, stop by sometime! And don't forget to check out my other story, Giant Robot Reincarnation?!.

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