Vials, jars, and tubes of frothing, bubbling, multicolored liquid lay strewn across the tables and cluttered shelves, a cacophony of alchemical explosions patiently waiting for someone to knock them into each other. Vats were set into the stone floor beside each table, containing creatures that filled their expansive interiors: contorted cow corpses, the dead eyes of dead sharks, even one freshly-caught body of a Giant Golden Toad. Why on earth use a Giant Golden Toad? They were rare and pricey enough as it was, and their innate magical reserves paled in comparison to the rather tiny and far less impressive-looking rats of the castle, who fed off the dinner scraps of whatever cuisine the king wanted - thinking about it, the one in the tiny bowl currently in front of me probably had some of that dragon served up last year. The sparse illumination of a glow worm lamp set above my workstation just barely allowed me to see what in the eight hells I was doing as I carved sigils into the deceased rat’s tongue.

“Fifth pentagram is aliiigned,” I murmured as my eyes roamed over the engravings. “Now to line up the pathways inside.” I picked up the hand-length knife beside me and carefully pressed its point into the tongue. Slowly, carefully, I began creating the lines which would connect all the markings on the tongue into a harmonious whole. A loop here, arcs there, weaving all the forms together, one last marking heeeere -

The door slammed open and my hand jumped a fraction, the knife flicking a hair’s breadth to the side in the tongue’s skin. I swore and glowered up at the interruption. Edward had flounced in, his front-open jet-black wizard robes fluttering around him. By the gods, he was already wearing that poofy frill vest underneath. Honestly, did women actually like that? If I were a woman, I wouldn’t like that.

“Ah, greetings …” he paused, as if searching for a piece of information that had eluded his grasp. “Busyboy!”

“My name’s not Busyboy,” I grumbled to myself, containing my irritation at this nickname that ALWAYS pissed me off. As with the rest of the apprentices, his daddy was too important to piss off. Correcting him wouldn’t do much good either. Raising my voice slightly, I said, “What do you want, Edward?”

“Just picking this up!” Hopping over one of the dead animal pits set into the floor and taking care that he didn’t step in any fluids, he snatched his elder-yew wand from his bench, brandishing it in the air. “Otherwise, I can’t actually show the ladies my signature Fireworks Bedazzle!” He nearly posed before remembering that doing so would make him step in GGT (Giant Golden Toad) flesh. “Hold down the fort, will you Busyboy? Don’t want the old fogey to think we’re neglecting his precious tests!” Edward waved his hand as he began maneuvering his way back across the room. “Not as if there’s any point in all this. Magic power amplification through inscribing the tongue? How icky!” He laughed as he left the room.

I breathed in, breathed out, sloooowly unclenched my hand, and kept the scream in. The theory about it was entirely sound! Magic was found in the bodily materials of the (once-)living, set in concrete form by sigils on the materials in the form of a catalyst, and brought out by the tongue which uttered the Language of the Gods and empowered it with the speaker’s own magic. It made sense that, if the proper sigils were applied to, say, a HUMAN tongue, then said human could increase the efficiency of the magical power drawn out. Eliminate wasted magic lost in transfer!

“Do none of these people understand that?” I quietly vented my frustration as I glumly resumed inscribing in the tongue. “Of course not, they’re all just in it to learn the flashy spells, enjoy the prestige of being a Court Wizard Apprentice, and get their dicks wet with fawning ladies! Why on earth would they care about how magic actually works? Actually, why do they even want to do that?”

“Damn that Edward, he messed up my carving there. Gods send him to the eighth hell, it’s probably ruined. Just - just gotta try and hope for the best. Maybe I’ll get something out of this. Even a botched result can be useful.”

“Hm hm hm hm hmmm, aaaand there.” I clacked the knife beside me and murmured a spell, the sigils inscribed in the bowl glowing as they registered my words. I looked at a clear space within the leather on the side of the container, examining it carefully. Any moment now, a series of symbols would appear, which would have to be carefully decoded in order to confirm the “shape” of the magic which I had just applied to the rat tongue.

I tapped the table as I waited.

And waited.

I frowned, jostled the bowl. That did nothing, so I picked it up, examined it from below, then on all sides. I set it back down, gingerly pulled out the rat, and poured over the interior. Still nothing. I yoinked out the rat’s tongue, re-examined it, even peered down its throat in case that offered insight. Mildly disgusting, but nothing more.

I recast the spell, carefully enunciating each syllable. Not a single misstep. I jostled the bowl, saw nothing again, and for the very first time felt tempted to throw it across the room like the others did when something failed.

I stood up and paced, twisting my shoulder-length hair as I thought. The spell I had cast worked, nor were there any problems with the bowl - I had crafted it myself during the seventh month of my apprenticeship, consulting the grimoires studiously when doing so, and it had not failed me for years. The specimen itself was perfect, in fine shape, killed with a clean pinprick to the heart as per standard procedure. Even if I had made a mistake with the sigil formula itself, it should be brimming with magic, so why -

I paused. Brimming with magic.

The formula, it had meant to amplify the effects of magic through an increase in magic power efficiency, but - the mistake I had made thanks to Edward, maybe -

The door slammed open once more, this time so hard that it bounced on the stone wall, nearly jostling a row of vials into a perilous situation. Shoes clacked on the floor and Master’s haggard face snapped inside before the rest of his body followed. His eyes bulged even more than normal when he saw the near-empty workshop. “Where are the others?!” he screeched.

“Out,” I said promptly, deciding to omit the precise details about their nightly escapades.

“Those foolish cretins, do they think I take them in just because they’re nobles?!” His voice rose to a higher pitch, and I noticed his arms were actually shaking. “This is an emergency! Fetch them IMMEDIATELY!” He inhaled, shook his head. “No, send a runner to fetch them! Half-naked, stumbling drunk, I don’t care, just get them fetched! Busyboy, bring me the items from shelves 4, 7, and 93!” He withdrew a Spatial Pouch from his robes and threw it at me. “Use this, I’ve already granted permission! Don’t bother sorting, bring everything to the Nine Blossoms Rotunda at once!!! And a goat!!!”

He rushed off, gaudy robe flying high in the air behind him despite the weight of the gold trim. I blinked. … Was this actually serious?

 

***

 

The Nine Blossoms Rotunda had been constructed over a hundred years ago in the reign of King Thancred IV the Pious, a truthful figure who had actually stuck to his word about eating frugally, freely donating money to the church, and mass-beheading the rebels against his harsh taxes to support the church the infidels. He had placed an altar at the very center of the white-stone room. Set on a raised dais, it was a behemoth monument to the God of Tranquility Poluvimier, adorned by a calming decor of palm leavings which framed a heroic depiction of the bloody massacres against the unbelievers who were dedicatedly killed in Poluvimier’s name.

Master was currently standing at the place where the altar had once been, a summoned imp tugging it into a discreet corner of the room - which for a round chamber was the section not illuminated by moonlight. The dais was undulating underneath him, slowly lowering while cracks of the surrounding mosaics were filled by growing tendrils of the marble floor. He muttered to himself as he scanned a grimoire in his hand.

I stared at the display of power. “Master, this is a holy place! We can’t use magic here! The church -”

“The church won’t care.” He snapped the tome shut and tossed it at me. I caught it as he shouted, “Begin creating the periphery for the circle on pages 128-9. No mistakes!”

I nodded, opening the book and flicking over it. My eyes widened. “Ma-” I caught myself, biting my lip in frustration. He wouldn’t pay attention even if I asked why. I quickly pulled out the contents from the shelves, setting them on the ground extremely carefully, before drawing lines of chalk on the now-smooth floor. As I completed each sigil, I uncorked one of the vials and slowly poured droplets across the lines, infusing them with the concoction’s magic.

“Why the hells do I have to do this on such short notice …” Master grumbled. His voice raised as his head turned to me. “Busyboy, listen carefully! When using catalysts crafted from very powerful creatures, sometimes you must wait until a confluence of the cosmos occurs to draw out their full strength. Such as,” he snapped his fingers and pointed to one of the vials, and the imp scurried to bring it to him, “Night Yianvey. Created primarily from the fluids of a nasty creature whose magic only works during a tripartite full moon.” He pointed up through the glass windows in the domed roof at the three round orbs hovering in the sky.

“I see, Master.” I nodded, as if he hadn’t told the entire room of apprentices this same basic idea during my second month.

He harrumphed. “Remember that, Busyboy. You’re at least useful, unlike the others.” He gesticulated wildly. “Damn peons. Peons all of them! Even that damn king! Asking for a Hero summoning for a war over some diamond mine … And he isn’t even deigning to stay awake for this!” 

I kept my mouth shut. Master could get away with this due to his status, but lèse-majesté was the right way to get a common-born person like myself vanished.

Gradually, the other apprentices began to file in, several in disarrayed garments or woozy from alcohol. Master barked orders and the circle began to be completed. I was eventually put in charge of overseeing them with a shouted, “Busyboy’s in charge!” I performed quality checks over their work, making frequent corrections, while Master attended to the goat which was brought in.

Once the circle was finished, I directed the other apprentices to stand in the appropriate positions, making a point to blatantly refer to the authority of the grimoire. I gave quick guidance on the chant and making sure they were fully aware that, if they slipped up, the king himself would be angry. That sobered up even that arrogant dickwad Mirio, though only after he hurled behind the altar.

I eventually strode back to Master, who was kneeling beside the goat and poking the floof, watching the moons overhead. Dawn would arrive in a few hours at this rate. “We’ve finished the summoning circle, Master.”

“Good, good!” Smacking the goat’s side, he stood up and strode to the head circle in the periphery, leaving the poor beast in the very center, the imp hovering beside it with a rather nasty-looking knife. I moved to my own position as Master called out, “Start the chant on my mark! And remember, if you fools slip a line, I’ll carve out your tongue myself!”

Several of the members present gulped. Master didn’t normally make such threats, but when he made them in such a temper, we were inclined to believe him. 

Master began counting down, holding up his fingers and withdrawing them one at a time. When the hand clenched shut, we all began humming out the chant, making absolutely sure to stay in sync as we did so. Thankfully, we’d been roped into similar situations before, so they could do that much.

Time passed. The moons slowly shifted overhead as my throat grew sore. But then we reached the final verse, and it was with relief that I heard the words, a gratuitous add-on which translated one of the preceding lines: “Come, proud Hero, come in the form that reveals your greatest might!” As the words finished, the imp reached down and, in a single smooth motion, slit the goat’s throat. Before a speck of blood had splattered the ground, however, it had already turned into orbs of light which hovered in the air. The goat made a choked bleating sound before it too rapidly vanished into luminescent motes, the imp vanishing along with it.

One of the disciples behind us shuddered and whispered, “Going to the eight hells like that. I pity the poor thing.”

“Hush!” Master hissed, and in that moment I was inclined to agree. Besides the fact that the eight hells were actually a rather habitable place and the goat would, by my own conversations with imps, simply spend eternity as a cuddle goat … This was far too majestic a moment to be disturbed.

I returned my attention to the front and watched, entranced, as the shimmering lights coalesced, forming the outline of a human body. Fingers sprouted from hands, arms dangled beside the body and past the hips, hair just past shoulder-length fluttered behind the head, lean muscles grew taut through the limbs, petite breasts forming on her chest -

Wait, what.

“By the eight hells,” Master muttered. “What’s happened?!”

I quickly took off my robe as the woman popped into being, pale skin flowing across her body and finishing her creation. Even as I rushed towards her, part of me registered that, objectively, she cut a beautiful figure, still illuminated by fading light and the rays of the moons from above. Another part of me wondered to myself, How nice it must be, to be made such a beautiful woman upon stepping into the world.

I caught her as her feet landed on the ground, knees buckling beneath her. I slipped the robes around her body, pressing it together around her waist - the bloody open front, had to keep them covered, no way I was going to let these animals just observe her. Even now, amongst the commotion from the other apprentices, I could hear the disappointment in several of the voices as I hid her form from them. I bit back a curse. Even in this miraculous situation, where a Hero was summoned, these men had no sense of respect.

Well, I was born a man too, but it wasn’t as if I liked that fact. Even when I wasn’t having to lump myself in the same group as these losers.

The Hero’s - Heroine’s? - eyes fluttered open before slowly moving to register the people around her. “What,” she said, her voice nervous, “where - where am I?” She started, her hand moving to her throat and prodding it. “My voice - it’s so high!”

“Hero,” I said with as much calm as I could muster, filing away the curiosity I felt at her words for another time, “are you alright? Can you stand? Can you remember your name?”

Her gaze flicked down, her face not registering my words, staring at her half-nude form. Her arms rose within the robe and - groped herself?? She gasped. “These - they’re springy. God, they’re actually there!” Her head tilted further forward, her gaze passing further down. “It’s gone.” Awe, almost reverence filled her tone.

“Hero!” What was she talking about? Thoughts filled my head, possibilities, but they made no sense, I couldn’t understand them. Pushing them aside, I grabbed her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She looked up at me, eyes wide. “It’s unbelievable.” Her voice choked a bit, glimmers of tears in her eyes. “I thought - I thought it’d take years to - but just like that - is this a dream?”

“No, Hero.” I paused, trying to … get what she was talking about. But my brain refused to understand. It just - this was -

“Hero,” a familiar voice cut in. I looked up to see Master staring down at us, eyes immovable. “My greetings. I am the Court Wizard Sinerva Atreios Bellagos. It seems that the … transfer between worlds has temporarily addled your wits.” He snapped his fingers. “Busyboy, show her to the Faded Petal Suite and see to her needs. I will inform His Majesty of the ritual’s … result.” His eyes glanced over the room. “No harm is to befall her. Of any sort. Am I understood?”

The others hushed or murmured their assent at Master’s words. I drew the Hero to her feet with encouraging words and managed to stumble her out of the room.

“We’re out now, we’re away,” I told her through her silent tears, “it’s all right, it’s all right.”

 

***

 

The Hero walked into the gigantic room, her feet sinking into the plush carpet. She slowly spun in a circle, eyes flicking from the carved wooden bedpost to the massive door of a large walk-in closet and the giant bath in the glasshouse beyond the columns. “Who on Earth had the bright idea to spend so much money on one room?” Her tone had shifted, no longer sounding quite so broken up.

Earth? Why was she talking about dirt? “His Majesty Mingrole the Bold,” I droned out. “The Faded Petal Suite was originally created as a gift for Her Highness Zethisweth of Kireia during an ambassadorial visit, and has served as a guest residence ever since for figures …” Seeing that I was rapidly losing her interest as she flopped her back onto the bed, her hands holding the robe around her waist, I sighed. “Though it’s believed he built it only after a nightly romp in the gardens with her.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at me with red-rimmed eyes, the robe covering her falling a bit loose. “Wait, really?”

As she muttered and grabbed the robe closed again, I sighed and nodded. “Possibly. It was a rumor of the time, though it only exists in a few scant testaments. It appears to have been thoroughly quashed, quite possibly by Zethisweth herself, if I read the subtext right.”

It was always like this. I’d spent weeks combing through the archives, searching for information that could put me on par with those steeped in this knowledge of tradition from birth, all to ensure that I did not appear ignorant. And yet, they never cared about the vast sums of learning I’d acquired. Only the rare piece of gossip could entertain them.

Whenever I brought up this particular fact, the others laughed at Mingrole’s foolishness, said he was a fool being led around by a woman, or called Zethisweth a royal slut who’d fucked her way into power. Crude, unbelievably crude, and this girl was only piqued by this, just like them. If I didn’t want to learn more about those motes of light … 

“She must have been strong.”

I blinked, looking at her in surprise. “Sorry?”

“If she quashed the rumor in the end.” She rose onto her side, resting her head on her hand and propping it up with her elbow, the other arm subtly covering her upper body. “I mean, no offense to you, but from what I could tell it was a total sausage fest in there. My expectations for gender equality are already abysmal. But if a foreign queen could have shown up the misogynists around here,” - she grinned, - “then she must have had a strong will behind her, and some good ability too.”

I stared at her and felt my mouth twitch upwards. “Indeed.”

She smiled at me, lay back down and stretched. “Y’know, you’re more decent than the others.”

I cocked my head. “How do you mean?”

“Well …” She raised her fingers and began counting with them as she spoke. “I was basically naked, but you covered me up, so now I’m only half-naked. You’re also not studying the amount of skin still showing like a Renaissance sculptor examining their personal Venus de Milo. You calmed me down on the way here, walked me at my own pace, didn’t grope me once, and haven’t committed some type of harassment despite me being a powerless girl alone in the room with you.”

“You’re the Hero,” I stated. “You’re hardly powerless. And several of those are a lack of negatives, not a positive.” And it’s not that you don’t have a striking figure, I just don’t feel comfortable being interested in you, not right now.

“Sure, sure.” She laughed shakily, sitting up and slowly bringing her knees close, hugging them. “Like that old geezer was looking at me like I was some Hero. Face it, I’m alone, I have no clue what’s going on. I’m still processing the feeling of getting hit by a goddamn truck and appearing in what looks like another freaking world with what, magic, magicians and shit? Not only all this,” she ran her hands along her cheeks, seemingly savouring the sensation, “I’ve finally got this body. There isn’t even any stubble, I can’t believe it.” She choked for a second, taking deep breaths.

I hesitated. This was a people thing, I could tell. People things … people things were weird. Really weird. I didn’t quite get them, everyone around me had always been super strange and I never got them and -

I sat down beside her and hesitantly reached out my hand. I plopped it on her head and ruffled it slightly. “There there,” I said in as soothing a voice as I could muster. “It’s fine, it’s okay.”

She gasped, choked again, before quietly nodding. I continued keeping my hand in her hair, occasionally making the odd comment. Birds began chirping their morning songs outside as she slowly calmed down again. 

“Pats?” she stated eventually. “Really? You trying to seduce me in some stupid manga way?”

I withdrew the hand quickly. “Seduce? No, I was just doing that because - well, it worked on puppies so -”

She chuckled. “God, I’m teasing you, no worries. And doing it badly.” She reached her arms up and stretched again. “Too bad you’re a dude though. If you were a girl, I might just have started crushing.” She snorted. “Messing with you again. I’m not that lonely.”

I blinked, before deciding to file away the information for another time. “Miss Hero, I can assure you I’m not like that.”

She poked my face right beside my lips, pressing the finger up. “Don’t get all pouty, smile a bit. And my name’s not Miss Hero.” She put her hand on her sternum. “My name’s Malicia. Though you can call me Malice if you want.” She winked. “Special privilege.”

“I think I’ll stick with Malicia,” I said slowly.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be some stuck-up prude, I’m actually fine with that nickname.”

“It’s not that,” I shook my head. “It’s just, Malicia sounds cuter, is all.” I cocked my head, trying to logicalize the words I had just said. “It suits you.”

A faint tinge of red hit her cheeks and, falling back onto the bed, she rolled over onto her front, robe riding up her back. “Oh hush you. That was completely unneeded! But - fine, Malicia if you want it.”

I shook my head and sighed. “I’m not sure I’ll get used to this.”

“Oh, you can, probably. You’ve probably just spent too long hanging out with the wrong crowd …” Her voice trailed off. “Hey, I just realized, what’s your name?”

I winced. “Just call me Busyboy. Everyone else does.”

She twisted her head and stared at me. “That’s not a name. That’s an insult.”

I realized I was squeezing my arms in front of me and stopped myself. “I don’t like my name, so just call me that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “O-kaaaay, I won’t pry. But I’m not going to call you that, it’s messed up.” Sitting up, she dangled her legs over the bed as she exhaled. “Now then, mystery person, I need to gain a bit of control over my life. Firstly, I’m thinking some clothes. Care to lend me your shirt for a bit?”

I shook my head vigorously, arms instinctively covering my upper chest. It was like an instinct, I couldn’t stop it. “Gods no, this thing stinks, trust me. I wash it every day but it just won’t stop smelling like - like me.” I shivered in disgust. I stood up and walked over to the massive doors on the side. “However …” I flung them open and gestured at the massive walk-in closet revealed beyond. “You have an array of items in here. I’m sure we’ll find something your size.”

She slid down to her feet, eyes widening. “Wooooow … that’s a lot of clothes.”

Giving her a once-over, I picked a teal-colored pleated dress with blue adornments on its sides and held it up. “You might look good in this, it goes well with your black hair. Try it.”

“You’re telling me that a man who looks more suited to book-burrowing than anything else is also well versed in women’s fashion?” She giggled, a sight which I found oddly charming.

“Oh, I might just be,” I said, shrugging and smiling away the twinge within me. “Eventually, you’ll get maids and such to look after you once they sort all this out, but I’d prefer you awe everyone with your finest and most impressive.”

“Aw, how kind of you.” She picked it up. “I’ll try out your options first, Mister … Pretty Boy.” She grinned. “Since you seem to know about being pretty.”

For some reason, I felt an uncontrollable smile spread across my face.

 

***

 

“Women loving women?” Edward blinked. “I’m not sure …” He turned to one of the other apprentices sitting on a nearby bench in the apprentices’ building, where we had gathered afterwards. This one had slid back his hood to reveal a mop of slick-backed shiny brown hair, and called out, “Have you heard of anything like that, Oliver?”

The other boy grinned. “Oh, oh yes.” He leaned forward. “See, church doesn’t like it, no idea why, so you don’t see it around. Probably why you never heard of it, since you’re always galavanting with the good higher class ladies. BUT you can find plenty of it in the brothels.” He nodded knowingly. “I once paid to see two girls have at each other. It was so fucking hot, I didn’t need any foreplay for later. Why do you ask? Interested?”

“Oh no, not me.” Edward pointed at me. “Busyboy is.”

Oliver’s eyes widened and he turned to me. “Busyboy?” He snorted. “Wow, you’ve finally learned what a dick is in this situation? I see, I see, that’s why you made that proposal about including women in our esteemed circles.” He waved his hand, giving a sly grin. “I know you’re poor, Busyboy.” He pinched his fingers together. “Buuuuut if you’re interested, I can show it to you. But I’d need compensation, like say one of those frost-inducing wands you make. What do you say?”

I sighed at this request. As if they didn’t foist enough on me already. “I’m fine, thanks.” I turned back to studying the rat tongue in front of me. “Was just curious, since I heard something related to that.”

“Aaaw, c’mon, don’t be like that.” His hand slid onto my shoulder, on MY shoulder, and I had to stop myself from pulling out my own wand and zapping him as he leaned into my ear. “I know a pretty good place which values the services of a nobleman like me, we help keep the church and other investigators off their backs. With just a word from me, they can give you the biggest hard-on you’ll ever have. C’mon, what do you say?”

Beneath the table, away from his line of vision, my thigh screamed from the pain I was causing it. I pinched it, pinched it and pinched away the sheer, nausea-inducing disgust I was feeling. It was a coping mechanism I’d found, when they were assholes acting like this to me. Saying I should do this, do that. So absolutely DISGUSTING -

In his view, I let out a small sigh. “Just give me the location. I’ll get you your wand. Frost-inducing, right?”

He clapped his hands. “Splendid! I knew you’d see reason!” Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a card and slipped it beneath my hand. He grinned sleazily. “There’s the address. I’ll expect the wand, okay?”

Then, FINALLY, he backed off and I let myself quietly breathe again. That did it, now he’d go away. Once this was done, I’d take the card and burn it and purge my hands from the filth of touching it.

I picked it up, opened up my robe as I looked at it, and frowned as I saw a word on the description which I didn’t recognize. “Femboys?”

Oliver’s own lip curled in disgust. “Yeah, that’s the one thing I’m not fond of there. For some reason, they have men, like actual men with their dicks still attached, dressed up as girls. Some of them even insist they are actually girls.” He snorted. “Makes no sense to me, but some of the others love it. Weirdos if you ask me. Don’t let the people there know I said that, though, they’re a tight-knit bunch.” He scowled.

“Oh?” Edward interjected, his voice suddenly curious. “They sound interesting.”

“Oh c’mon man, don’t tell me you’re actually into that!”

Their voices faded away as the words sank in. I’d only asked that question because that was the only logical explanation to what the Hero - to what Malicia had said about “crushing” on girls, but this piece of information, these - these ¿men? who called themselves ¿women? -

I felt a headache coming on. I massaged my forehead with my thumbs, groaning slightly, then rubbed my forearms. I shivered as, through the sensation of hair there, I realized I’d pushed up my robe’s sleeve, and hurriedly pulled it back down.

No, no, this couldn’t be right, it was just - it just seemed so -

I stared at the card. Maybe later, when I had time, I could fully digest this info. But perhaps for now I should just clean the card and keep it instead of throwing it away.

Clean it a lot.

 

***

 

I closed the bone-plated door shut behind me. “You summoned me, Master?” I said respectfully.

“Yes, yes.” Master motioned to a seat near his. “Sit. It pains me to have to look up at you.”

I settled down, gripping the armchairs. For some reason, they had skull engravings on the end of the handrests. The cushion itself was good though, soft and easy to sink into. In front of me was a round table overflowing with paperwork and magic items - a preponderance of tools made from Estilian Shrew skin, it seemed, most useful for creating projectiles. Probably for whatever war effort the King was planning. Master himself was sitting on a similar-looking chair roughly on the other side of me, with a large desk behind him, and a window which was currently revealing a low-light aquatic environment. A fire beside us provided the necessary illumination.

“Is there something you wish to request of me, Master?” I asked.

“Yes.” He rubbed his chin pensively. “It’s been a few days since the Hero was summoned.” He gazed at me. “You haven’t seen her since the night she arrived, correct?”

I shook my head. “No, Master, I have not.” I had gone to sleep immediately after because it was approaching my third all-nighter, and was back in the experiments afterwards. I’d been interested in interviewing her more, but a belated guard had now been put up around her, and it was forbidden for me to see her.

Speaking of that night, I had yet to detail the results of my current experiments to Master.

“Good good.” He leaned forward, steepling his hands. “Tell me, what impression did you have of him then?”

I frowned. The idea of simply saying what she’d said to me felt … wrong somehow. But, Master knew everything. I mean, I had learned everything from him. And the questions, that question, it just wouldn’t leave my head.

“Master,” I asked hesitantly, “is it possible for a man to become a woman? As in, with magic?”

He stared at me for several moments, my hands growing clammier with each second. Then, his face broke out into a predatory grin. “I see we’ve reached similar conclusions.”

I blinked. “Excuse me, Master?”

He waved his hand. “The Hero summoning always picks a man. ‘The strongest, most powerful and masculine of forms,’ that’s one of the lines in the summoning ritual. We use it to designate the target of the summoning. And yet, the Hero appeared as a woman!” He spread his arms in bewilderment. “There are indeed potions that can turn a man into a woman, or indeed a woman into a man!” He pulled some yellow-glimmering dust from his robe, sprayed it through the air, and muttered, “Avaliven.” Beside him, an ornate golden safe materialized as the dust scattered across it, the gilded emerald-set chest hovering in the air.

I kept my face calm as I witnessed this. An Eisretarion, far more difficult to access than the Spatial Pouch which Master had lent me. Among the highest levels of spells, this could only be accessed and opened by the caster, and if they were to die without it being open, then its contents would be lost forever. In all my years as an apprentice, I had never once seen it. Revealing how to access his Eisretarion meant that he was not worried about me discussing it. Which meant either I had gained an extreme amount of trust or … I would not be left to speak of it.

Quietly, subtly, as discreetly as I could, I began increasing the magical protections around me.

Opening the Eisretarion, he reached in and pulled out a hand-sized flask whose inner liquid shifted continuously in all sorts of colors, from sparkling purple to deep orange to bright green. “Vermillion Shades. Several bottles of this were left to me in a will by its inventor. A potion that can turn a woman into a man, or a man into a woman.” His lip curled in disgust as he stored it back in the Eisretarion and shut the door, the chest fading away soon afterwards. “Why he made such a thing, I have no idea. It was a curiosity, so I have kept them, but thanks to them I was able to come up with that hypothesis.” He cackled. “For you to posit the theory without knowledge of these … you must have good intuition, Busyboy.”

I bowed lightly. “Thank you, Master.”

“I speak truth! When I picked you up from the streets, you were just an ill-educated beggar in awe of magic. I thought you might only prove useful for lab work.” A harsh wave of coughing struck him, and he held his hand up. When it subsided, he shook himself and, as if nothing had happened, waved his hand magnanimously. “Well, that is of no importance. I thought about the reason for the switch in gender and the idea struck me.” He tapped the side of his head knowingly. “It must have been the goat. Now, the stable boy swears he brought in a male one, but we can’t trust a mere servant’s words. I personally think that the ritual used a female goat, which is why the man summoned as a Hero manifested in a woman’s body.” He spread his hands. “It is simple and the most likely solution.”

I kept down my frown, all the objections and counter-theories which were springing to mind. I couldn’t risk antagonizing him. “It must be how you say it, Master.”

He nodded smugly. “Now, this poor man is stuck in a woman’s body. The nature of women must be overwhelming him. They’re sly, cunning, rapacious, greedy, lustful, devious creatures after all.” He spat. “The Hero has put up a good front, not showing any emotions, but I know better. It’s the face of a plotting woman. However,” - he snapped his fingers, - “he clearly showed emotions when he was first summoned. Probably the distress as his manly and womanly natures warred. However, there was someone there: you.” He pointed at me. “Women need a man, and you were there in his hour of need. If there is anyone to crack open his shell, it’s you.”

My hands were shaking, a part of me dimly realized through the shock, ready to strike this man down in an instant. I didn’t get it, I didn’t, but somehow, not once, I hadn’t realized just how - how awful his actions and behavior were until he laid it bare so blatantly. The little actions and snide comments which had continued to crush my soul were suddenly being scaled up past belief.

I had come to this man because he was the strongest, most learned wizard I could train under. I had worked myself half to death to reach this stage, enduring all the abuse. All for the sake of learning magic. Magic was my escape, my sole escape from all of these people I couldn’t understand, who acted with such disdain against other people. But now, it felt like my pursuit was sickening me, right down to my core.

But I couldn’t show it. I was already on the brink. If I showed hostility, we’d fight. That wouldn’t be good. Because it felt like there was no way to fight this man.

However, I had always been a very good liar.

“Me, Master?” I said, putting forward an air of mild confusion and interest.

“Yes, you,” he nodded. “You see, we’ve determined that she has no actual magic inside her. None at all.” He waved his hands agitatedly. “What sort of Hero doesn’t have magic?! So, we came up with a different idea. If we cannot summon a true Hero, then His Majesty will become a true Hero.” He waved his finger in a circle. “The same way marrying a duke’s only daughter makes her husband the heir of the dukedom, His Majesty shall assume the title of Hero through marriage.” He smiled smugly. “At least then, we can put this false Hero to use, even if it is just political tinkering.”

I nodded as if it made perfect logical sense, which it ABSOLUTELY DIDN’T! How in the eight hells could even that foolish king think of this?!?! Ahem. Neutral tone, polite voice. “I see, I see. What is my role then?”

“Persuade him to put up no resistance.” His eyes bored into me. “Any way you can. Remember, he is a woman now. I’ve arranged for you to have access to him. Talk with him tomorrow, pry open that feminine nature, and make him embrace it. All Heroes of the past have been tempted into subservience by gold, women, and wine. Just do similarly. Promise a harem of gigolos, if that’s what’s needed. Power, riches, pleasure beyond measure. Deceive him, make extravagant promises. All we need to do is get him to become the king’s bride. Beyond that,” he snorted, “he has no purpose.”

“I understand.” I stood up, forcing out a wide smile. “I shall do my absolute best.” I paused. “Out of curiosity, Master, if the Hero is indeed a woman now, should I not refer to her as a ‘she’?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “When he succumbs to a woman’s greed permanently, yes. Go on, make your preparations, no need for idleness.”

“Of course.” I bowed and left the room with smooth, unhurried footsteps. When I had passed through several corridors and reached a stretch without people, I paused and slammed my fist into the wall. Small rivulets of blood seeped from in between my scraped fingers.

 

***

 

“They want to marry me off?” Malicia asked incredulously.

I nodded. “To the king. Something about him becoming the Hero.” I shrugged. “I’ve never wanted to punch Master so bad.”

“Master … he’s that Sinerva Whatshisbigname guy, right?” I nodded. “Then why didn’t you?”

“He’s the Court Wizard,” I grumbled, “and my Master. I can’t be confident in a fight against him. He’d tear me to shreds.”

She eyed me skeptically and shrugged. “If you say so.” She raised her arm, examining the white sleeve of her dress. “Must be why they gave me this thing, on top of the make-up and lipstick stuff.” She tugged at the dress she was wearing, a great big poofy white thing that seemed to imagine that the legs were overwhelmingly, disproportionately thick. “Probably some ‘white is purity’ bullcrap. I swear, how can so many sexist tropes exist simultaneously in the minds of people?” Her tongue blepped out in disgust. Then she stood up from the garden bench we were sitting on and did a small twirl. “This thing doesn’t even suit me!”

I shook my head. “No it doesn’t.”

Malicia grumbled as she sat back down. “They don’t let me exercise either. I’ve spent years building up these muscles, years, and they say it’s improper. I’d punch them if -” She broke off and scowled for a few moments.

“Is there a problem?” I asked hesitantly.

No, it’s just -” She sighed. “You’re a magician, right?”

“Yes.” 

She looked around warily, confirming no-one was around, before leaning in and whispering, “Can you repair something broken?”

I considered it for a moment. “A physically broken object? So long as it’s not on the level of a palace, yes.” I reached into one of my pockets and removed a small bead. “This is a sufficient catalyst for repairing something on the small side. It’s made from -” I bit my tongue before I diverged from the topic. “It’ll work. Though not for a palace.”

“If a palace is broken, then you’re restoring a ruin, not fixing something broken!” She pinched her lips. “Well, whatever. Here, look at this.” She gripped the side of the bench. It was a good bench, strong, sturdy, and elegant-looking, constructed from the timber of a White Elisian Tree. A masterpiece of construction from a material so difficult to shape that strong magic had been required. Few physical forces were known to be able to even dent it.

She squeezed, and a sharp cracking sound filled the air. She unclasped her hand to reveal a number of splinters where the wooden handle had been. They clattered to the ground, revealing an unblemished palm. Not a single one of them had pierced her skin.

“That’s mildly unbelievable,” I stated plainly.

As I began muttering a quick incantation to repair the bench, she nodded. “I used to do martial arts, lots of different ones, but those don’t make someone invulnerable. Plus, I’m way stronger. Way way stronger. And I feel pretty limber too. It’s like my physical abilities got boosted.”

I considered that for a moment. “The summoning ritual is designed to reforge your body into one which can display what you believe is the greatest power. Generally, that takes the form of a large amount of innate magic and unique abilities. Perhaps yours manifested as great physical prowess instead, alongside …” I gestured at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Alongside what?”

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. “Well … your gender.”

Malicia nodded calmly. “Makes sense. I’ve kinda taken ownership of my fighting skills, but dang if I wasn’t using it as a way to immerse myself in ‘masculinity’ for way too long.” She scowled. “I lost so much of my life surrounding myself in such a swamp.”

“Tell me about it.” I blinked as I realized the words had come from my mouth.

There was a pause, and I felt her eyes on me. Then, her hand reached over and tentatively patted my shoulder. “Fucking sucks, doesn’t it.”

We sat there in silence for a few moments, her hand stroking my shoulder. I sighed. “I can see why you made that joke back then. This is comforting.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She stroked me on the head once, then commented, “Do you think … you needed that for some reason?”

“I’m not sure.” I took a deep breath, trying to orientate myself, to keep the uncertainty at bay. However, a part of me had to ask. “This gender being different thing … how does it work, if I can ask, Malicia?”

“Work?” She leaned back, as if pondering the question, her eyes studying me from their corners. “Well, for a start, it’s called being transgender. Trans-gender, okay?” She pushed her hands together. “But if you mean, ‘How do you know if you’re transgender?’ …. There can be a lot of things that make you realize it. Often it takes a while, but the signs build up. Depression’s a common bitch. You find yourself liking things about how the opposite gender looks or acts, and wondering why you’re not like that, or wondering what you would do as a different gender in a situation. If you’re in denial, you’re often lying to yourself or to other people, pushing yourself to believe certain things and act in certain ways. You can find yourself hating parts of your born body. Facial hair’s a fucking pain in particular, and body hair too. Plus the …” She gestured between her legs. “Well, that’s how I experienced it.

“But in the end, it’s a bit simple.” Malicia stretched. “This feels like a real me. A “me” I am happy to be. It’s not anyone else’s problem who I am, it’s something I’ve realized, and confirmed, and will live out.” She shrugged and gave a small smile. “Now, Pretty Boy … Why do you ask about that?”

I shifted uncomfortably, scratching my head. “Well, I’ve heard of people in a … similar situation recently, and I was curious.”

She stared at me for a moment, then smiled tenderly. “Well, if that’s the point of your life where you’re at, then I won’t pry any further. But if you have any more questions, Pretty B- Pretty Person, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Sure.” I coughed, trying to clear up that strange icky feeling in my throat, of speaking words that weren’t what I wanted to say, and hoping my head would stop hurting.

We were silent for a few moments. It felt like, if I said something, my body would start hurting, start tearing itself in half, and I didn’t know why -

“Those busybody maids still haven’t returned,” she said warily, startling me. “What’s going on?”

“Oh that.” I took a shaky breath, aligning myself to this line of conversation. “We were meant to be left alone in private, for my ‘attempt’ to persuade you to marry the king.”

“Oh wow, privacy.” She grinned. “Sounds great.”

I shrugged. “Tell that to the five people watching us from behind the walls.”

Her smile vanished. “Oh crap. Did they see me break the bench?”

I shook my head. “No, no they didn’t. I’ve cast a spell to prevent stuff like that.”

“What?” She gave a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing. “You could have told me sooner. What sort of spell?”

I marshalled my thoughts, a font of eagerness bubbling within me. “Well! It’s a multilayered composite spell. The first aspect traces the air vibrations of our words and stops them from moving beyond a small bubble around us, so they don’t end up being heard. The next sends a hypnotic suggestion directly into our watchers’ minds: ‘Busyboy is persuading the Hero to become the king’s bride.’ The third, and perhaps the individually trickiest bit, creates a stream of dialogue in each watchers’ mind that would best suit such a topic, even altering their memories of our lip movements and actions as the conversation is constructed. The fourth then adds anyone who enters the traced paths of sound, as detected by the first aspect, into the application of the third aspect. The fifth aspect - and this is where it truly gets difficult - then syncs up all of the constructed memories, altering them into a version that makes the most sense to all of them.” I paused, barely holding myself from ranting into a huge mess. “That summarizes it, but there are a lot more details I could go into -”

“Wait, wait.” Malicia held up her hand, massaging her head with the other. “What? What the hell was all that?”

I frowned. “A defensive precaution.”

“Yeah, and it sounds ridiculously complicated.” She sighed. “Who can even do that?”

I pondered it, anxiously seeking an answer to the best of my abilities. “Maaaybe five people? Myself, Master, the Grand Imoleno of the Truvle Mage Association, Juue of the Eight Whispers, and probably the Old Seal of the Sea.”

“That was a rhetorical question.” She stared at me. “And also, seriously? Only five people?”

I shrugged. “Getting the magical formations correct is tricky. Not many people have the skill. Not to mention shaping the flow of magic from your tongue is a pain.”

She eyed me. “I didn’t hear you casting any spell.”

I smiled wearily. “I’m very good at speaking without being heard. Any proper magician should be, otherwise duels between wizards would end a lot more quickly.”

Malicia leaned forward and poked me in the head.

“Hey!” I drew back, covering my forehead. “What gives?!”

“You said you weren’t strong.”

“And I’m not, compared to Master -”

“And yet you can do all that?”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, I had to. Magic … magic is what keeps me balanced. It keeps me going. And I wanted to be good at it.”

“It sounds to me like you have severe confidence problems.” She nodded her head, as if what she had just stated was fact.

I snorted. “I can’t. I mean, for a start I know I’m better than the others in magic at least.”

“Theeeeen why does it sound like you're bowing your head to everyone, including this Sinerva guy?”

I found myself struggling to answer, to tell her that was just how the world worked, until she bopped my forehead again. “Stop holding yourself back, Pretty Person. Believe in yourself, and do what you want a bit more, ok?” She stared at me intently, her face close to mine. I could see the slight freckles beneath her green eyes, the eyebrows squinching together into a firm gaze, the huff of exasperated breath coming from her nose.

My hand rose to cover my warm cheeks and I looked down. “O-okay,” I said in a small voice.

She drew back. “Much better!” She grinned, and I reverted my gaze down as a strange feeling rose in my stomach, like the pitter-patter of hundreds of tap-dancing feet. I took a breath, took another breath, tried to marshal my thoughts. Do what I want to do … what I want to do … want to do … 

The words left my mouth before I even realized it. “Want to try running away?”

 

***

 

I stood in front of Master’s door, breathing slowly. I’d already done the prep work I had needed to do. All it needed was this one last step. I could do it. I could do it I could do it I could do it.

I had the courage now. I felt it in me. I could do better than I did the first and last time I had confronted Master.

My hand absently touched on my Spatial Pouch. Contained within was a bundle of papers detailing a proposal I had made long ago to Master: on admitting women as wizards and the benefits of doing so. I’d gone into all sorts of details - accommodation, resource acquisition, even robe and formal dress design. I’d even commissioned a woman wizard’s outfit. I had told myself it was just a practical experiment, and had held the resulting dress up in the mirror in front of me before stowing it away. 

It was still there, in the Spatial Pouch too. I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. Couldn’t get rid of the idea.

Master had rejected the proposal. “Women are powerless, unsuited, and unworthy,” that had been his brief statement after reading the first page, before shooing me away and moving on. But the idea still lingered. It felt like I was waiting for … something else. Something which was leaving me confused, uncertain, but it was something. Something much better than this.

I took a breath, knocked, and upon permission, entered.

“Stellar work!” Master chortled as he saw me and eagerly sat up from his chair in his office, positively vibrating with good humor as he paced. “I must say, from the reports I received, you did an even better job than I could have hoped! I dare say I couldn’t have done better myself.”

“You flatter me, Master,” I said calmly with a small smile. “I simply thought about what you would do and applied that.”

He beamed and reached forward to shake my hand eagerly. “Then you make me proud! I was right to trust you, my apprentice - no, my foremost apprentice! Your results in practical work have always been excellent. I am glad to see your attitude and intellect are just as formidable. If that woman were to have done something during the ceremony, we would have all lost face! It is being set up in a hurry as it is. But for her to personally proclaim His Majesty as the True Hero …” He grinned viciously. “An unparalleled act.”

He collected himself. “Well, I shan’t bore you with the details. For now, let us celebrate.” He pulled out his Spatial Pouch and from it a bottle of wine. “Now, where did I put the glasses?” he grumbled, eyes searching around.

An early opportunity. I looked around, shifting my gaze quickly in my search. “Ah, I see them, Master.” I got up and picked them up where I had found them, finger sliding along one of the rims with an audible ding. I crossed back and put them down. “Shall I pour?”

“Yes yes.” He watched as I took the bottle, poured him a glass, and offered it to him. He accepted eagerly, waited as I poured myself one, then raised his glass. “A toast to our success!”

“A toast,” I agreed and we clinked our glasses.

I waited as the hypersonic sounds emitted through the contact rebounded across the room, small pops of blood spouting from Master’s ears. I didn’t bother leaning forward to catch him or his glass as he fell down, his head thudding against the table. The table tumbled alongside him, the medley of materials on it crashing over his head.

Amongst the crashing din, I let out a small sigh, and let the wine glasses which Master had indicated slip out from my robe’s voluminous sleeves. I had managed to pull off one of my pre-prepared strategies without a problem. A good old switch from normal items to magic catalysts and a quietly murmured spell had done the job.

As the noise subsided, I set down my glass on the ground with a trembling hand, reached up to my ears and pulled out the beeswax I had stuck within, the miniature runes within it subsiding. I quickly ran a check on the various wards and counter-wards I’d placed on myself. Nearly all of them had activated, and many were exhausted in that instant when I had ‘initiated hostilities’ against Master. Nearly all. My preparations had been enough.

Still, for so many of them to discharge for just a single specialized attack … I looked down at Master. “You really are strong. But …” I knelt down and began removing items from his head, rolling him onto his back as I murmured, “because you’re so strong, I have to do something about you. Otherwise I’d put us both at risk.”

From my Spatial Pouch, I withdrew a variety of tools - small knives, stones that would deactivate his defensive wards, all the items I would need for this operation. Four hours to operate, four hours before people noticed he was gone and alarms started to ring.

I had to act fast. I put on a glove, pulled open his mouth, grabbed his tongue, and pulled it out enough so I could see it.

I looked at him. This was Master. Sinerva Whathisbigname Atreios Bellagos, the man who had taught me magic for over eight years now. Eight long, long, long years of working in this place underneath him, growing from an immature teenager with whimsical dreams into this adult life. Found by him, scorned but invited by him, taught by him. To achieve my one lingering dream in magic, I had endured all of this. I had - I had -

I was pulling him by his fucking robes, shaking him, screaming, screaming, screaming. “Why?! Why?! Why why why why why?!?!?!

“Why the hells am I stuck here?! In this place?! Why?! WHY!!!!!

“I just wanted to learn! To learn about magic!! Why, why, why did you make this place?! Was it to torment me?! What’s the point of - of this?!”

My fist smashed his nose in, the crunch of his bone dim as my head pounded with blood, drops of the crimson liquid splattered across my knuckles. I hit him again and again, screaming, until I was then pounding the ground beside him with my hand, my vision wet with tears.

“Why don’t I just kill you?” I choked out in a feeble voice.

I sat there, breathing and panting as I stared down at this person, this thing who had made my life feel so constrained, so trapped, so miserable for so so long. I looked at him, completely at my mercy.

“If I kill you,” I whispered, “there would be no reason behind it. I - I won’t just threaten life for no reason like you.” I struggled to get the words out. “I don’t even know what to do with myself any more. I have no purpose in my life, not really, just these impulses. Thoughts and desires I’m trying so hard to keep away because being near you with them would break me. Killing someone on a vagary, I - I don’t want to. Not like this. Please don’t make me become like you.”

I picked up the tools, pulled his tongue back out from his battered mouth, and lowered them, speaking in a haunted voice. “But I want to help Malicia. So please, don’t follow us.”

 

***

 

I don’t know how long it took me to finish the task. It was certainly longer than I had anticipated, and I could hear urgent knocking and shouting coming from outside the door, audible even through the massive assembly of wards which prevented them from entering. My mind had gotten too foggy, and I had lost track of the time as I slowly disassembled the protections around Master and got to work.

But it was done. I looked at the tongue, now marked with the faintest of incisions, weaving into minute pentagrams and looping lines between the points. The pain was blocked by another spell, but even once it faded away permanently, the scars would remain. And that would be enough.

I raised my finger and experimentally poked Master’s - Sinerva’s hand. My fingertip met his flesh and pressed on it slightly. There wasn’t a hint of resistance. The ward protecting his body had vanished.

I smiled. I grinned.

I laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed, small chuckles turning into full-bellied laughter which devolved into wheezes before resuming into small, broken laughter. Eventually, eventually, I picked myself back up, rubbing my cheeks. It had worked. 

“Just one thing left,” I murmured, then blinked. How much of this was I actually saying out loud? Eh, let’s think about that later. I pulled out a small pink patch, wrapped it around Sinerva’s tongue, and muttered a brief chant. The patch shifted color, matching his tongue’s shades, before all indentations and signs of its presence vanished, obscuring the sigils underneath. I nodded in satisfaction. Cover-up complete.

I got up and stretched, feeling my poor back ache. Sinerva was incapacitated now, effectively useless. But he still had a large inventory of items, and even useless mages like the other apprentices would be able to do something with them.

Firstly, I rifled through his robes, eventually finding and yanking away his Spatial Pouch. I opened the drawstring and peered inside, smiling. He’d forgotten to remove the permissions he had granted me for the summoning. I stowed it within my robes.

However, this tool would only contain his day-to-day items. I needed to stop him from over-equipping a number of magicians with weapons to use against me and to do that I needed to raid his most private storehouse. I concentrated, pulling back the memory of when he had opened his Eisretarion. The faint yellow glimmers on the dust he had sprinkled … and the precise intonation of the one-word spell … yes, I was certain.

I opened a tiny drawstring pouch I’d prepared, pulling out yellow-glimmering dust, and blew it into the air. This was dust of the Sly Silene, a very rare and valuable material which I had purloined from the laboratories before coming here. There were several others with similar glimmers, but this was the most valuable. If Sinerva were to use any … Waiting a couple beats after blowing he dust, I muttered, “Avaliven.” I witnessed the gold-plated Eisretarion materialize once more, and sighed in relief.

Pulling out my own, mostly-empty Spatial Pouch, I reached my hand into the Eisretarion and began yanking things from there into it, barely paying attention to what the items might do, keeping up the bare minimum wards just in case. It was unlikely that there were any defences on items inside his most secure space, but it paid to be on the safe side.

I noticed some familiar items as I neared the end. My hand twitched, eyes flickering away. I shuddered, took a deep breath, and instinctively left them for last.

Eventually, when there was nothing left, I had to look at them. Ten hand-sized potions whose colors kept on shifting. The Vermillion Shades potions. I gingerly picked one up. My head was pounding, my vision seeming to blur again. I can’t - I can’t -

I jammed them into the Spatial Pouch, one after another, and another, and another, until I was holding the final one, holding it above the open pouch. I just needed to drop it in, that’s all, drop it in. It wasn’t that hard, I just needed to loosen my hold, that was all.

I raised it up, inspected it in front of my face. If I drank this - if I did - I would - I would -

I found myself unscrewing the lid, putting it to my lips with a trembling hand. It wasn’t fear, no. Excitement, nervousness, giddiness, joy, thoughts and emotions which were all swimming in my head, but I wasn’t afraid. The thought of what this would do - it was -

Malicia’s voice saying, “Why do you ask about that?”

I tilted the bottle down my throat.

 

***

 

For reasons which I was starting to realize were far beyond what I had first thought, I had once spent a good long time analyzing women’s gaits. I had done so, I assured myself, purely to better grasp how to make my proposed women wizard’s clothes. The faint tints of suppressed envy were only now apparent. At the very least, that experience was now coming into use as I tried to bumble my new body around the room, awkwardly looking for a mirror among the clutter. A mirror, a mirror, my hips kept bumping into things -

I HAD HIPS!

THERE WERE HIPS!!!

They flared out by my sides and looked so much larger than I was used to and yet when they bumped into things it felt soft and also THE HIPS FELT SO RIGHT OH GODS! Also, I could barely see those hips, despite how large they were, because I had to twist my head to look over THESE TITS!!!

Was I giggling? Maybe. I should look in a mirror, see if my mouth was giggling. I felt - felt so hyper right now. At the same time that I was energized, I was also floating, as if I’d finally reached a long-waited dream and now I no longer had to be burdened by the stresses and annoyances.

Was I acting strange? Probably. But I felt too happy to care.

I eventually found a mirror, hidden by a drape. No more hiding! No more! I grabbed it, tore it away, looked at myself.

I gasped. I think. Maybe that was just my breath catching in my chest. Oh gods my chest. It was there. It was so big. My shirt was tearing around it, pulled up past a moderately slim waist as it strained against these orbs up top. The seams on my pants’ waist had also torn, small little gaps in the fabric showing my hips. I turned around and saw an ass, not too large, but there, and perky, and definitely not a guy’s ass. It wasn’t helping the tightness on the top of my pants, but below in the thighs and calves the material was actually a bit saggy, my limbs a bit skinnier. Also, was I taller? I was definitely quite a bit taller now than I was before.

But my face, oh wow my face. I leaned in close, eyes rolling over every detail. My cheeks looked sharp, but not long, not long sharp cheeks, no they didn’t overdo. Chin was good, very good, and there was not a single hint of facial hair. Oh - I rolled up my sleeves - NO BODY HAIR EITHER YEEEES! My head hair hadn’t changed much, still shoulder-length, still black. I flicked it back and forth, watching it fly around my long neck. My green eyes stared out over a small spatter of just a few freckles, just a few beneath them which made my face feel not just pretty, but cute.

Cute. Pretty.

“I’m PRETTY!” I screamed. “And I’m CUTE!!! Oh gods, oh good gods!!”

I was tearing up a bit, I was so happy now. I thought I had used up all of my emotions earlier. Nope, nope nope nope this was all soooooo good. I was jumping up and down in excitement and -

Ah, shouldn’t do that. They’re bouncing around too much. Can’t have them hitting my face!

Actually, I should just change. A guy’s shirt was not right for these!  And besides, the shirt smelled and was gross and these robes were bad and oh wait I had already made my dream dress hadn’t I, it was in my pouch and I should take it out noooooow!

I disrobed, disshirted, dispanted, stood there naked in front of the mirror, noticed that my equipment below had been switched out, hummed happily at that thought, then reached into the Spatial Pouch and pulled out the dress. Thank my foresight, I’d even stocked up on panties. Not a bra, but at least panties. Black, lace, pretty. I thought they’d go well with the dress for some reason. I slipped them on, felt how snug and nice they were on me, thank the gods they stretched. I then grabbed the dress, began shoving it over myself, shimmying my arms in, pulling it down until it reached my ankles. It was rather simple, had a little bit of flaring at the bottom, to make an excellent twirl if I twirled, mostly loose, but it did cling onto the hips - oh gods it did - and was tight on the top. Actually, more than tight, I was really struggling. I was not used to cramming boobs into a décolletage-showing dress, pluss the dress was not quite the right size on top - I had prepared for an average size, and these did not appear.

When I finished up, the tits were squeezed in, definitely spilling out, nearly having an accident, buuuut I’d persevere! I’d figure it out! I looked at myself in the mirror, giggling, twirling, oh wowwwwww. Finally, I pulled out the robe. It was good, black like the dress, but with streaks of aquamarine laced in. They were open-front too, like the men’s one, but unlike the men’s they reached down to my ankles and properly billowed out behind me instead of looking like some half-finished vest.

I giggled again, twirled, and yessss the dress did twirl. It twirled SO WELL. Gods, “I’m so GORGEOUS OH MY GODS!!!”

I’m not quite sure how long I spent there, again, before I remembered that there were still people banging at the door. Rolling my eyes at these people - how DARE they disrupt my dress time - I finished stowing away all the magical tools in the office, quickly leaving it bare. I kicked the still-unconscious Sinerva as I walked to the door, fished out a small disc of metal inscribed with reams of sigils, opened the door, and snapped, “Iuveray,” at the small assemblage of armed men and fellow apprentices waiting outside.

They fell over snoring, even the apprentices - who had lackluster preparations by the looks of it. I left before the nightmares created by the spell hit them and they started screaming. Time to find Malicia, I was almost certainly behind schedule and making her wait when I wanted to show myself to her!

I proceeded through the halls, at a giddy and excitable skip totally dignified pace, and totally not stopping to readjust my chest because my dress was too tight around my boobs. There were lots of people shouting and screaming and alarm bells were ringing. Sometimes, men with swords and wands shouted at me, but they weren’t a problem in the end. At one point, through the windows, I saw someone who looked a lot like His Majesty running away in a bathrobe, accompanied by several guards. I felt tempted to harass them with a spot of rain, but a bunch of guards saw me and thought I was an intruder or something, and by the time I’d sent them flying into walls with a couple of gravity-adjusting spells His Majesty had vanished into some bushes.

Eventually, I reached a place with a slightly larger degree of screaming and yelling. The number of guards who were already embedded in walls - or smashed through them - also increased significantly. I began to make out voices.

“I must admit, Hero,” - pant pant, “I am impressed by the power you have displayed, especially since you are just a mere woman. However, I am not like my subordinates. I am Meguie Meguive, the Captain of His Majesty’s Royal Guards. Unlike these weaklings, I am truly strong, versed in the ways of both blade and magic! Prepare yourself -”

The same voice squawked, then disappeared among a tremendous crashing sound. I rounded the corner to see Malicia, wearing that same white dress but with several tears in it, give the oh-so-strong Captain of His Majesty’s Royal Guards a flurry of high-speed blows to the face before he could so much as whimper. A new rush of giddiness filled me as I saw her stand over his beaten, battered, face, wiping a small amount of sweat off her pretty brow with a bloody fist and oh shit NOW she was so hot. I giggled as I realized that NOW I could really, really recognize that fact. Maybe it was because I felt pretty myself, it felt … real now?

She heard me giggle, turned to face me, eyes narrowing, then widening. Her mouth flopped open. “Um, uh,” she stuttered before rallying herself. “Wh-who are you?” She raised her fists defensively, though they were trembling just a bit.

“Malicia, it’s me! Kayla! Pretty Girl!” I bounced in place. “Pretty! Girl! No wonder I hated that nickname, it sucked!”

“Pretty G - … it’s you? You look - you look good!” She gulped. “Pretty Girl. Kayla. Oh. So - you really were - I mean, I didn’t want to say anything, let hatch and don’t crack and all, but - oh wow. Pretty Girl. Kayla.” She shook herself, blushing slightly.

“Yup!” I crossed over to her, pointing to myself. “I’m pretty!” My finger turned to her. “And you’re pretty!”

Her face flushed more, beginning to tilt as I drew near. “Um, wait, wait, um, I’m not -”

“You’re pretty and I’m pretty and we’re both pretty and I think I like you, can I kiss you? I feel like I really really want to kiss you right now, can I? Please?”

I was standing in front of her now and her face was nearly in my boobs because gods I was really tall and she was a big short and hopping around excitedly just did not go well with keeping overflow contained and her eyes were rolling around in a red face and she squeaked out, “Wait, um, th-this is, um, pretty, yes -” and then I was leaning down and -

Oh yes this was right.

The fireworks in the back of my head weren’t fading, but I was starting to feel the lack of air in my lungs. I reluctantly let go, gasping and giggling at the joy I was feeling. “Sorry, sorry, Malicia. I just - oh gods you were so cute so I just -”

Her hand slapped over my mouth. I looked down and blinked to see her blushing face staring away. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

I nodded, still feeling like a ball of air floating in the clouds. Eventually, she took it away. “Okay, so, like, um,” Malicia stopped talking, took a breath, slapped herself in the face, very carefully avoiding looking at me. “Getting out of here. The plan was to fly. K-Kayla, can you fly?”

I tilted my head. “Uuuuuum, I thought I was already flying?” I hopped in place. “Flying!”

She nodded. “Okay, euphoria’s given you a real good hit. Probably not best to let you operate heavy machinery. What about a place to hide?”

Hide. Hiiiiide. Good place to hide … oh! I fumbled around inside my Spatial Pouch and pulled out a card. “Here! Here here here, let’s go here!”

I shoved the card in her face, but she batted it away. “Okay, okay. Take the lead, I don’t know the way around.”

I cheered. “A night walk with Malicia! A night walk with Malicia!” I giggled. “A night walk to -”

 

***

 

The streets of the capital were generally filled with people, even at night. Particularly in the seedier parts of town we had found ourselves in, home of the nightlife, where workers drank after harsh days, soldiers skipped out on night patrols, and nobles discreetly visited their preferred red-light establishments. (Well, everyone pretended they did so “discreetly”, and simply shuffled out of the way when a carriage came by.) However, tonight the streets had been shut down by the ringing alarm-bells and the frequent patrols which we hid from.

Well, we hid from them when Malicia told me to cast a spell. I felt slightly more self-aware now, but then I got lost in admiring my new body, or Malicia’s body, or her lips, or her -

“Are we close, Kayla?” Her face was peering into mine, from oh so close.

Um - uh - I looked away, sneaked a glance back, saw her own slightly flushed face, panicked, snapped my head away to view our surroundings. “Oh, I - I think we passed it.” I tugged on her sleeve self-consciously. “This way.”

We backtracked a couple establishments before stopping at the one we wanted. We were on a back-alley, so we would be entering through a more discreet side entrance.

Making sure the hiding spell was still in place, I knocked, then knocked again. As we waited, I began to grow entranced by Malicia again. It was like the entire world was shining with new colors, letting me appreciate her in ways I couldn’t have before. And the damage caused to her dress by the fighting earlier was definitely giving me a lot to think about. I now realized what it must be like, to kiss her muscular arms, hug her torso from behind, entwine our legs and -

The door opened. A middle-aged woman in a - oh my that was a lot lot of skin - an outfit peeked out at us suspiciously. “Building’s shut, if the alarms haven’t told you enough,” she said crisply. “We also don’t let out beds for non-customers to share.”

She began to close the door, but Malicia stuck her foot in. “Um, excuse me,” she said. “We’re not here for that. A-and we’re not like that!” She turned to me. “Um, Kayla - you, you said here, right?”

“Ah, yes.” I broke out of my stupor of imagining Malicia in that outfit - why was I doing that?! - and rifled through my Spatial Pouch. “Um, eeeerm,” I fumbled out one of the Vermillion Shades potions. “Um, this.” I presented it to her.

She looked at the potion warily. “And what is that?”

“A - a potion that switches bodies. I mean, transforms body from one - one gender to another.” Oh gods it still felt so unreal. But I noticed her eyes fixate on the potion and I rushed forward. “I have a lot of them. I - I heard that you had some girls who could use them. And - and the guards don’t check your building, because of your customers, right?!”

I immediately regretted giving away that piece of information, but she almost didn’t seem to register it, or at least not care so much about the implications. She rubbed her chin, frowning. “Five,” she said finally. “I’m not going to make my girls pick and choose among themselves because there were too few potions. Give me five and you can have a room. Oh, and also,” she glared at me, “if I find out you lied and gave false hope to them, I will hamstring you and throw you into the street.”

I shook my head rapidly. “No, no, nothing bad about them, I mean look at me!” I placed my hand on my chest - oh gods my chest was so squishy now!

There was a small flicker, an emotion, behind her eyes before they returned to normal. “All right.” She opened the door more widely.

We stepped in, and proceeded through hallways and a stairwell. The woman’s sharp questions along the way made me fumble out more Vermillion Shades potions as we walked, which she expertly held between her fingers.

Malicia’s eyes roved around the interior, taking in their surroundings. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”

“Several of our more prestigious customers elected to remain and take refuge when the bells sounded,” our guide said blandly. “None of the grunt guards will dare conduct a search.”

I leaned in and whispered in Malicia’s ear. “Why did the bells start ringing? I thought we were going to stay quiet.”

She squeaked at my breath and I realized we were both blushing again. “Um, well, I was getting rid of my escorts and I maaay have punched one out of a window and into one of the bells in the courtyard.”

“Please don’t whisper behind my back, it’s aggravating,” the woman said waspishly. We both started into silence. Then I started again as I realized Malicia’s hand had grabbed mine, fingers interlocking.

Eventually, we stopped in front of one of the doors and she opened it with a free hand. “Use this room,” she said. “Feel free to do what you want. Actually, if you make noises, that’ll further discourage the guards from entering. Tools are in the drawers.”

“Tools?” I asked blankly.

“Not -” Malicia squeaked, her face going crimson, “not like that!!!”

She eyed our hands, and we started, instinctively letting go - no wait I didn’t want to do that. My heart started to pound as my hand twitched. “Suuuuure,” she said, shoving us inside before she shut the door.

There was a low-level light in the room from a lamp set above, with curtains covering large windows to the exterior. It was fairly spacious, comfy, with a soft carpet floor, a couch on one side of the room, and a massive canopy bed on the other. Several drawers were set into the wall beside the bed.

Malicia plopped herself down on the bed, crossed her arms, and sighed. “So …”

“So …” I responded awkwardly.

The silence between us lingered, my heartbeat suddenly growing a bit faster. The euphoria was slowly starting to drain away a bit, and my mind was swamped with all the embarrassing things I had been doing tonight. Oh gods, had I really done those things? All those things?! Had I - had I kissed - aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!

Malicia cleared her throat. “That Sinerva guy. You uh, you take care of him?”

“Oh, that,” I said, slightly relieved. “I - I managed that, yes. I think I’ve sealed his magic permanently. Never told anyone I figured out how to do that, and I covered up the evidence, so there’s no, no way … it could … be discovered …” My words trailed off as I continued to stare at her, my tongue suddenly twisting in on itself. Why is talking so difficult in this state?! And what even was this state?!

Malicia fidgeted, then exhaled sharply. “What am I, an idiot?” she muttered snappily to herself. “Just say it, it’s perfectly okay to be moved by bodily appearances too, and it’s not like she wasn’t cute before, so just -” She slapped her cheeks and stared at me. “Kayla.”

“Yes?!” I squeaked, my mind starting to run wild as it interpreted her words.

“Lie down.”

“Okay!!!”

We both burrowed under the covers, still wearing our clothes, on opposite sides of the huge bed. Then, slowly, gradually, we began to inch closer to one another. My heart was beating so fast it was hard to breath, and when we finally met in the middle and our hands were holding each other’s again I could feel how sweaty it was and oh gods it must have felt so gross to Malicia but also it was so niiiice to hold her hand -

Her fingers pressed on my lips. “So, Kayla,” she said quietly. “Just listen for a moment.” I nodded, feeling mute, and she carried on, “I’ve never been in a relationship, nor do I believe that simply liking one another can lead to a successful relationship, and honestly the thought of a relationship is a bit scary. Knowing all of that, I want you to close your eyes right now and, if I do something wrong, just push me away, okay?”

I nodded again, nearly whimpering, and closed my eyes. Then, my mind began to blank out when her lips pressed against mine and she whispered, “That was payback for then.” As her lips returned, I felt my thoughts desert me once more, replaced only with the realization that our bodies cuddling each other, warmth spreading through my soul, and her tongue entering my mouth were the most blissful feelings I had ever experienced.

 

***

 

The sound of the door opening woke me up. Or maybe it was the number of raps given to the wooden frame, a ratatatatatatata which drove into my brain, rowsing me from my slumber.

My first view upon awakening was Malicia’s sleeping face, eyes shut, breathing steady. Forcing myself away, I sat up groggily to see the woman from earlier, now clad in more casual wear. “Enjoy each other’s company?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. “Um, what?”

She pointed to her cheek. “You’ve got some on your cheek there.”

I touched that spot on my own cheek reflexively, then pulled my fingers away to find a smudge of lipstick there.

But - wait - we’d only kissed on mouths - I looked back at Malicia to see she had now rolled over, her face burrowed in her pillow. From the side, I could see her ears were now tinged red.

Had she -

I felt my brain start to overheat as her hand grabbed mine.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get you two definitely-not-lovebirds something to wash up with. Food too. The guards seem to be keeping away, but I’d rather not risk you two leaving the room. And as for your payment …” She took a breath and stared at us. “I’ve never seen my girls so happy before. You have my thanks, stranger.” She chuckled. “Though one of them turning into some kind of … short wolfgirl was an unexpected but appreciated bonus.”

“I - I didn’t know about that,” I admitted, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, you’re very lucky she liked that body. Otherwise …” She lingered on the words before shutting the door. Then, she paused that movement too. “There’s something else too. The reports suggest those guards appear to be quite confused. It seems they’re looking for a wizard who’s used an illusion spell to appear as a tall, beautiful woman. They’re also looking for a male apprentice, who they believe was captured and replaced by said wizard.” She chuckled again and smiled nastily. “The idiots. Thanks for stirring them up so much. It was a lovely sight to see.”

As she shut the door, I tentatively called out, “Also, I’m not a stranger. My name’s Kayla!”

“And I’m Margaret,” the woman said through the wooden door. “You have a good name, Kayla. Now they’ll know who to thank.” Her distant footsteps faded away. 

I sat there for a few more moments before flopping back down, turning my face to look at Malicia. “M-morning Malicia.”

She slowly turned her face back up to look at me. “Morning, Kayla.” She squeezed my hand. “How - how are you feeling? After last night?”

I nodded slowly. “I think … I liked it. I mean, you. I mean,” I blushed, “this makes me very happy.” I squeezed back.

“Good.” We stared at each other, our breaths seeming to sync. Oh gods, this was making me so happy I was going to buuuuurst! No calm down, calm down, something else to focus on …

“She said,” I tentatively brought up, “thank you. For helping the other girls. Like - like you helped me, in a way.”

Malicia burrowed in close. “Oh? Do you … like that?”

I nodded. “I think … I think I’m a bit happy about that. Helping people be who they want to be.”

She shifted, so now she was propped up on her elbow, hand on cheek. “And how do you want to do that?”

I blushed as her hand began tracing my cheek. “W-well, um … letting girls be girls … and, um,” a spark hit me, “be wizards too! Or, I dunno, maybe something else. What’s a good word for female wizards?”

“Witches?” she suggested.

I nodded rapidly. “Maybe. I don’t know, I’ll think about it later. It’s just, they’re always so controlling about who learns magic, and they won’t let women be wizards - witches at all! Like, they just can’t believe it’s possible! So, I’m thinking we make a school or something, where we can do stuff like that! Or something! I don’t know, it’s something new and -”

Her hand shifted down to my lips, pressing them shut. “You’re rambling again, cutie.” She grinned, and I blushed back. “Also, it’s very cute how you included me in that ambition. Planning on spending a long time with me, hmm?”

a - a - a - a - brain - break -

“Don’t be so panicky,” she said, taking a deep breath and chuckling. “Though that is a cute face too. Also, those are some good ideas. We can definitely think about doing them together, when we’ve gotten up, okay?”

“Yes,” I squeaked back.

“Good.” She smiled, then murmured, “You really do care about other people, Kayla. I’m glad you’re such a good person. It makes me happy that I like you.”

“L-like?!” My pitch went up several octaves.

Malicia froze. “... I said that out loud.” I nodded and she slowly jerked her face back to a pillow and buried herself in it before moaning, “Idiooooooooooooooot.”

I snuggled closer. “That’s fine, it’s just,” I blushed as the words seemed to come out all by themselves, “maybe I do too. Like, you.”

“Shush,” she mumbled. “I was trying to be cool, idiot, shush.”

“Fine, fine.” I gazed at her for a few more moments. “... Does that mean you’ll talk instead?” I blushed again, or maybe I was just in a permanent state of blushing now. “With that tongue - that did those things in my mouth last -”

She raised her head, eyes spinning in the reddest face I’d ever seen, and threw her pillow at me.