NOTE: The following is an excerpt from my mother’s journal. It details the events that took place after her disappearance from the hospital.

Eirdag, 6-13

Frigg preserve me for what I have done. I just hope that Thurston can forgive me. When the doctor said that there was nothing that could be done for my son, I panicked. I turned to the only person I knew that might be able to make a difference.

I don’t know if I can properly describe just how nervous I was waiting outside my ancestor’s office. The woman terrifies me. Hours seemed to fly by as I waited outside the door, but I know it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

Finally, the door opened and I was directed inside by her assistant. “Brigit,” Athilda Le Fey said without turning to face me, “What do you want?”

My heart skipped a beat in surprise, my ancestor had remembered my name, “Revered ancestor, I’ve come to seek your help.” I said.

Athilda sighed, “I do not have all day, child. Speak and be done with it.”

I twitched nervously, “Esteemed Lady, it’s my son. He’s awakened.” I received only silence from Athilda. It dawned on me that she probably didn’t comprehend what I was trying to say so I added, “He’s awakened magically. It’s killing him.”

For the first time, Athilda turned to look me in the eyes, “You are certain?”

I gulped and nodded, I opened my mouth to speak, but was cut short by Athilda who had moved from across the room to stand before me with her hand held out. “Take me now.”

Without another word I took my ancestor’s hand, I drew on my magic and released a great surge of wind magic.

Nearly twenty minutes later we arrived in the hospital to find a cloaked assassin perched on Thurston’s chest holding a blood soaked blade poised over his heart.

Athilda reacted so swiftly with her magic that I didn’t even realize she had acted until the would-be assassin lay sprawled on the floor. My ancestor walked over to where the assassin lay. Then with only a small grunt of effort, she knelt down beside the woman. I could feel Athilda extend her awareness around the woman’s body, and then she turned and locked eyes with me, “Dead.”

I gulped, “You killed her?”

Athilda looked up at me irritably, “Don’t be foolish, child. The assassin called upon her magic and stopped her own heart when she realized she would not be able to complete her mission.”

I think I might have lost it then, if it hadn’t been for Athilda. “Brigit,” she said calmly, “Go find someone and instruct them to contact the local constabulary.”

I nodded my head and ran out the door to do as Athilda instructed only to return once I had completed the task I had been given.

It didn’t take long for the police to arrive. When they did I was shocked by the vehemence of Athilda’s reaction. “Incompetents,” Athilda growled suddenly and whirled on a pretty red-haired detective who was nearby conferring with a colleague.

“Excuse me?” the detective said, clenching her hand into a fist so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

My ancestor narrowed her eyes, and focused hard on the other woman, “Why was this child not put under guard after the first attack?”

The detective narrowed her eyes in turn and met Athilda’s gaze “Look lady,” she said in a patronizing manner and folded her arms across her chest, “We had no reason to believe his life was in any danger.”

Athilda’s eyes burned with a fiery rage, “You dare to condescend to me? Do you have any idea who I am, child?”

The detective grimaced, “I don’t really care. Now just stand back and let us do our job.”

Athilda gritted her teeth, “As the head of House Le Fey, I declare this a matter of interest to the Seidskati and am placing this child under my protection. Begone from my presence and pray that we never meet again.”

The detective’s face paled noticeably upon hearing Athilda’s pronouncement, “Yes, Lady Le Fey.”

She turned her back to the detective and continued her examination of my son. He had a nasty stab wound in his right shoulder. Athilda placed her hand upon it, and I felt a surge of magical power as she extended her senses into the wound. I watched as the severed ends of Thurston’s muscle drew together and fused to one another as if they had never been cut. Then with another small release of power, she closed the stab wound and I watched in amazement as the tissue mended. Save for slightly pinkish color of the new skin, there was nothing to suggest that my son had ever been stabbed.

There were stories about my ancestor’s extraordinary healing talents, but I had always believed they were exaggerated. To heal a wound that quickly was nothing short of amazing. It would take a talented healer hours to close such a wound and Athilda had done it in a matter of minutes.

“Brigit,” Athilda said quietly, “Come, there is something we must discuss.”

Hesitantly, I came over beside her, “Yes? What is it?”

Athilda sighed warily and shook her head, “Your son has indeed awoken magically. It is possible to save him, but it will change him irrevocably.”

I pursed my lips, “What do you mean?”

Athilda closed her eyes warily, “A man’s body will not accept the presence of the magic. It is seen as a foreign force that must be expunged. Left unchecked, the body will destroy itself in its attempts to eradicate the magic. The only way to prevent this is to transform the body so that it will accept the magic’s presence.”

I stared up at my ancestor blankly, “Transform it? Into what?”

Athilda looked down at me and smiled sadly, “We must transform your son into woman.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I-is that even possible?”

Athilda nodded, “It is extremely difficult, but it is possible. I believe with your help I can begin the process.”

“My help? What good would I be? I’m just an Enchantress I could never hope to match your power,” I said.

Athilda shook her head, “Power does not matter in this instance. In order to transform a person in such a way, it normally requires their willing cooperation. Since, young Thurston is unconscious; we do not have the luxury of asking him.”

I gasped, “Then how are we to transform him?”

Athilda smirked, “You are Thurston’s mother; you share both a physical and emotional bond with him. Through that bond, I believe I can bring about the changes. Though I must warn you there is a strong chance that he will not survive.”

I shook my head, “If there’s even a small chance we can save him, I’m willing to try anything…”�

“Very well,” Athilda said extending her hand out to me, “Let us begin.”

I bit my lip, and hesitated only a moment before joining hands with my ancestor and prayed to the Goddesses in Asgard that Thurston would find it in his heart to forgive me.

# # # # #

NOTE: The following is the continuation of my own journal entry which was written on the eighteenth day of Harpa.

On Vordag, A songbird chattering in the window was the first sound I heard as I came awake. I was rather foggy on the details, but I could remember being stabbed. With just a little more effort than normal, I sat up and looked about the room that I found myself within. The room was huge, I could probably have fit my entire apartment in it and still have room to spare. The décor, and the bedding on which I appeared to be resting, were of extremely high quality, and they bespoke of great wealth and opulence.

Once again I looked about the room, and caught a flash of myself in a beautiful antique mirror mounted on the wall. I almost didn’t take notice as my eyes quickly darted across the room, but something seemed off about my reflection. I turned my full attention upon the mirror and gasped at what I saw. I could swear I looked younger, I didn’t look a day over thirty and I could easily pass for twenty-five, but it wasn’t just the apparent youth that was different. I looked more slender than I had just a few days ago, my head was completely bald, and to top it off my face looked a bit rounder, one might even say softer.

Remembering my stab wound, I brought my hand up to my shoulder, and found nothing, not even a scar. I cast my gaze on the mirror again, and felt a deep unease at the reflection that looked back on me. I sensed something was wrong and it set me on edge. Once more I looked about the room, and realized that I was not alone. My mother lay sprawled on a small loveseat in the corner, fast asleep.

Not wishing to wake her, I silently crept out of bed and made my way to the opposite side of the room where the door was. Quietly, I turned the knob and poked my head out the door. I found myself looking down a long hallway spaced with doors. On either end of the hall there was a set of stairs leading down. I briefly considered leaving the room and exploring the hallway further, but caution quickly overrode my desire for exploration and I returned to the room and closed the door behind me. My mother stirred on the loveseat and came awake. She looked about for a moment, and then her eyes fell upon me.

“Thor,” she said using an old nickname of mine, “You should be in bed.

“I feel fine,” I said, “Where are we?”

Mother sat up and brushed her hair away from her face, “The estate of Athilda Le Fey,” she mumbled sleepily.

I couldn’t believe my ears. My mother had just told me that I had awoken in the home in one of the most powerful and well known Spellbinders in history. I know I’m a descendant of House Le Fey, but the Steenbergs were considered a very minor branch of the house and gained no prestige from their relation to the Le Feys or so I had always been told.

There was a momentary silence then I spoke, “Why am I here?”

“To save your life,” Mother said finally, “When I disappeared from the hospital, I came here seeking Athilda’s help. She brought you here to be able to better treat you.”

A Spellbinder had agreed to help me? The idea seems ludicrous. No Spellbinder would willingly help a man who had developed magical abilities. They would see him as a threat to their powers. “Why would she help me?” I replied suspiciously.

Mom shook her head wearily, “I don’t know Thor. She hasn’t told me much and I haven’t asked.”

I knew my mother was hiding something, I could see it in the way she kept biting her lip and twirling her hair with her finger. “What aren’t you telling me?” I said quietly.

My mother sighed warily, “She has found a way to keep the magic from killing you.”

I felt a sense of elation at my mother’s pronouncement, “I’ll live?”

“Yes.” My mother looked up nervously at me, “I really don’t understand the finer points myself, but in essence your body is incompatible with the magic.”

My elation quickly turned to dread as I asked the next question, “I thought you said I would live.”

Mother pursed her lips, “I did. In order for you to live, Athilda had to find a way for the magic and your body to coexist.”

I looked at my mother, I’m sure, my befuddlement was evident on my face, “Mom, what are you trying to say?”

She looked at me as tears started to form out of the corner of her eyes, “I’m sorry, Thor.” she wept, “I had to do it. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

I simply looked at my mother; I simply could not comprehend what she was trying to say. There was a brief moment of silence as my mother wept and then finally she spoke, “To save you we had to make it so your body would accept the presence of the magic, but we couldn’t do it all at once. The process had to be gradual or it might kill you.”

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I finally came to realize just what my mother was trying to say. “You’re changing me into one of them.” I said quietly letting the words sink in. I felt dread fill the pit of my stomach. I turned my back on my mother and without another word I exited the room leaving my mother alone to weep.

At that point, I really wasn’t sure where I was going, but after wandering through the oversized house for a few moments I soon found myself exiting the building and entering into a garden area. The garden was massive and featured a wide variety of flowers, shrubs, trees and even fountains and statues. I wandered through the garden for a moment then found a stone bench in a secluded spot and sat down to think.

Just a short while after sitting down, I felt a small thump on the bench. I looked about and found a woman sitting on the bench beside me. I examined the woman in hopes of ascertaining her identity. She looked to be in her seventies. She was tall, standing at about six feet, her pale white hair fell far past her waist, and she almost seemed to radiate power. I sighed deeply, and I narrowed my eyes as I realized just who she was, “Oh Frigg. You’re her aren’t you?” I said angrily, “What do you want with me?”

Athilda Le Fey’s green eyes flashed with anger, but when she spoke she did so calmly and her voice did not betray the anger and irritation that I could sense lingered just below the surface. “I want to help you, child.” When she spoke she spoke with an odd accent, one that was probably the product of a life spanning numerous centuries and having spoken languages that hadn’t been spoken in hundreds of years.

I gritted my teeth then spat out angrily, “Bullshit! I might be another stupid man in your eyes, but I know when I’m being used.”

Instead of showing her anger as I expected, she almost seemed amused, “I understand your anger and to tell you the truth I do have my own reasons for helping you, but I do genuinely wish you well.”

I looked the Spellbinder in the eyes, “You say that you want to help, but what do you stand to gain from helping me?”

Athilda sighed, “At the present time, I do not believe it prudent to reveal my intentions. You have my word that I mean you no harm and have only the most honorable of reasons for helping you.”

I scowled, “You can excuse me if I’m somewhat skeptical concerning your intentions.” I said sarcastically. “The fact that you won’t tell me a damn thing tells me you are untrustworthy.”

Athilda narrowed her eyes and her voice had turned ice-cold, “I am afraid that you must put your trust in me for the time being. Two attempts have been made upon your life. Had I not arrived in the place of healing when I had, you would be dead.”

Damn it, she was right. Without Athilda to protect me, I didn’t stand a chance. “What do the police have to say about all this?” I asked.

Athilda sighed, “The police are not an issue. As a Seidskati of the Council of Seidkona, I have declared this a matter of interest for the Council.”

I stared at Athilda aghast. It was unusual for the Council to interfere in ‘earthly’ matters. It was unprecedented for the Council to declare an event a matter of interest. Pending review by the rest of the Seidskati, it would give Athilda the power to call off the police and investigate the matter with the backing and resources of the Council.

“Norns,” I muttered, “You can’t seriously think the Council will take an interest in a couple of death attempts against a man do you? It would be another thing if I were a woman and a member of the Council.”

Athilda’s expression shifted to one of amusement, “That will not be an issue much longer, as I’m sure you have surmised.”

I bowed my head, “So it’s true then,” I said, “I’m going to change into…” for a long moment I was unable to make myself say the words, “one of you.” I said finally.

Athilda nodded and I shook my head tiredly, “It wasn’t your choice to make,” I said angrily. “You should have let me decide.”

Athilda pursed her lips, “You are right, child,” she said, “I should have, but the attack from the assassin had left your body weak, and I was afraid you would not awake in time to seek your permission.”

I shook my head, “My whole life I’ve resented the Spellbinders,” I said quietly. “Now I find that I’m about to become one. I don’t know that I can live with that.”

Athilda pursed her lips, “A Spellbinder’s power can be used for good just as it can be for harm. It is your choice what kind of Spellbinder you will be.”

There were several moments of awkward silence before I finally spoke, “Maybe I could do some good as a Spellbinder if I live long enough,” I said. “I’ve nearly died twice already. Whoever sent that assassin to attack me isn’t likely to give up.”

Athilda stood up and looked down upon me, “As long as I am alive you will never fall victim to an assassin. I intend to bring light to the darkness and find those responsible. Now come, child. You are still very weak. You need to rest.” she said holding her hand extended toward me.

I looked up at my ancestor angrily, ready to refuse her, but realized that she was right. Reluctantly, I took her hand, stood and began to follow her back into the house.