Prologue Pt. 1
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"Come on dude," Mike said in an almost-pleading tone. "We need a fourth for the game. It's Friday night, you're not going sit here all alone playing on the computer are you?"

I hated when people called me stuff like that. Dude, bro, guy, man. They all grated on my nerves. I sighed, "I've asked you before not to call me 'dude'."

Mike rolled his eyes, "Right, sorry man. Seriously though, why don't you want to come? We'll play some poker, drink some beer, shoot the shit. Come on, be one of the guys for a change!"

"I'm not going," I stated firmly, "Because Chuck is a bully and Josh is an asshole. And they're both..."

My voice trailed off before I said it. I didn't want to get into that conversation again.

Me and Mike had been roommates for about two years now, and he was the closest thing I had to a friend. And he'd got it into his head that I was a closeted trans girl, which was just plain ridiculous. I couldn't be trans, even if I sometimes wished I was. But he'd been going on about me being trans ever since he mentioned trying to set me up on a date with his ex-girlfriend's roommate and I made an offhand joke that I'd rather be her than date her. Now he wouldn't let it go.

"Both what?" he asked, before guessing what I was going to say. "Womanizers? Misogynists? You know dude, if you're really a chick you can just tell me. I'm not going to be weird about it. I'm an LGBT ally, all right?"

I could feel my cheeks going red as I stated "I'm not trans ok? How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Dude," Mike said with a grin, "Every one of those games, you always play a chick. You listen to chick music. Just last week you were complaining that girls had it so much better with fashion choices. What was it you said? Girls could dress masc or femme and everyone thought it was hot, but if a guy dressed femme he got the crap kicked out of him. You were talking from experience right?"

"Shut up," I mumbled. That stuff had nothing to do with being trans, it was just the truth. Girls had it way better when it came to fashion and clothes. And just about everything else really. As far as I was concerned, life just seemed like it'd be better if I was a girl. But I wasn't.

It was the same when it came to games. All the guy characters had the same boring options. They were all ripped muscular jocks with sharp angles and hard lines who could look dark, mean, mysterious, or tough. The girl characters got to be soft and smooth and curvy, and they could be just as dark and mean and mysterious but they also had the option of looking cute or pretty or sexy. And they had way better choices for outfits and everything else. And I just related better to the girl characters. But that didn't mean I was one.

Mike sighed, "So that's your final answer? Not coming out?"

After a moment he chuckled, "Sorry, pun not intended. I meant, you're not coming to the poker game?"

"No," I stated. "Last time I hung out with those guys they treated me like crap. I don't need a big burly asshole punching me in the arms and pushing me around, while his skinny asshole sidekick makes a bunch of shitty offensive remarks then claims it's all ok because he's 'only joking'."

"Fine," Mike sighed again. "Have fun with your game. At least that Amethyst chick is even cuter than the last one."

I rolled my eyes but didn't comment.

Mike finally left my room. He hollered a goodbye then I heard the front door close a few seconds later.

Alone at last, I unpaused the game and relaxed in my chair as all my focus was on the screen. It was a new MMORPG called Gods and Gorgons, and I'd spent almost every free minute over the last three weeks playing it. The basic premise wasn't anything that unique, it was your typical swords-and-sorcery medieval European type realm. Some of the gameplay stuff was different and the graphics were pretty good, even on my two-year-old PC with the mid-range video card.

Amethyst was my character. She was a cleric, and after three weeks I'd got her levelled-up pretty good. I always had a lot of fun with character creation and customization, and while I'd never admit it Amethyst was about ninety percent wish-fulfillment. She was short and cute, soft but strong, and curvy without being a caricature. She had long straight silver-coloured hair that hung partway down her back, and violet-coloured eyes.

Something about that combination, silver hair and purple eyes, it really resonated for me. I tried to get that look in almost every game I played, and like Mike alluded to, I tended to use the same name in most games too. It just seemed to fit with the violet eyes.

So far this evening I'd been doing some easier solo quests, to climb up another level or two. I was expecting to hear from a few online friends around ten o'clock though, so we could team-up and do a dungeon-dive.

I let myself get absorbed into the game and soon forgot all about Mike and his trans nonsense. I also forgot to eat dinner, and forgot about the half-full bottle of water next to my keyboard. For a couple magical hours I forgot about everything and I was just Amethyst. I was a cute cleric girl wandering alone through dangerous woods trying to locate a lost temple that my Goddess bade me to find and reclaim for Her.

Using my ornately carved wooden staff and my magic, I easily beat the various bandits and wolves the game randomly placed in my path. When I found the temple, it was home to more bandits along with some giant rats and giant spiders. The boss monster was the game's equivalent of a medusa. Its claws and poisonous tail were the main threats, I was relatively safe from its petrification ability. The monster had penalties when trying to use its magic against both clerics and females, so I was doubly protected. Still, it put up a bit of a fight before I finally defeated the thing.

In truth it wasn't that difficult a quest, but it was meant for a group of lower-level players. I'd only done it solo because my level was high enough, and it earned me some extra blessings from my Goddess which translated into more experience and bumped me up another level.

By the time I'd finished it was ten and my friends were pinging me. They complained a bit as they had to wait a few extra minutes for me to get back to the safe zone in town so I could save my progress. Then I finally met up with them, and the four of us set off to tackle the high-level dungeon.

• • • • •

(elsewhere...)

I had another sip of wine then my focus returned to my granny's journal. I'd been reading and re-reading this section for the last two weeks, it was just that unbelievable.

My granny, my mom's mother, she had to have been a real actual witch. And her journal was actually like her book of shadows or something.

Granny died when I was a little girl, all I could remember was she was a nice quiet kindly old lady. I never would have guessed she was a witch. I never would have known it either, except when my mom and step-dad moved out west two months ago, mom gave me an old trunk full of granny's stuff. Mom said I could have it, keep it, toss it, whatever.

And I nearly did toss it, I didn't have room for a bunch of old junk in my little apartment. Then Christine dumped me and a day later she'd packed up and left. I found out she'd been cheating on me for a few months, playing me along till her new girlfriend was ready for the two of them to move in together.

I was devastated, and for a few weeks I was almost numb, as I struggled to avoid falling into depression. Then one evening with nothing else to do, I opened that old trunk and looked through it. I found what I thought was granny's diary, and decided to read it. I was expecting snippets of her daily life, I thought it'd be mostly boring but maybe it'd help me get to know her better.

Instead I found runes, incantations, talk of magic, and most amazing of all, she wrote about summoning a Goddess. She actually described doing it herself, and she wrote quite a bit about the divine being who appeared before her to grant her wish.

The whole thing was incredible, and kind of unbelievable. But I was lonely, depressed, and had been drinking more than usual lately. Part of me thought, what the hell, even if it doesn't work at least it's something to do, and it's kind of interesting.

Another part of me honestly hoped it was real. And if it was, then tonight I was going to meet a Goddess. It was the full moon, and I had everything ready. I just had to wait till midnight, then...

"Oh fuck me!" I yelped as I saw the time. It was twenty minutes to twelve and I was sitting there on my third glass of wine, daydreaming and reading granny's book. I had work to do!

I scrambled to my feet and immediately started shoving my furniture off into the corner of the living-room. Sofa, love-seat, then I dumped the coffee table on top, and finally I rolled up the throw-rug and tossed that on as well.

After a pause for another sip of wine, I grabbed the journal and the box of table salt. I flipped to the page with the drawings then started pouring out the salt onto my living-room floor. I made the big circle, then copied the seven runes as best I could. Salt isn't the greatest drawing material in the world, and the two and a half glasses of wine didn't help.

Next I opened the box of candles, and the cheap plastic candle holders I picked up at the dollar store. Seven candles were placed around the circle next to the runes, following granny's drawing.

I dashed into my bedroom and quickly stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt, then my bra and panties and socks. I tossed it all at the hamper, then pulled on the pure white nightgown I'd bought specifically for this purpose.

Finally I gulped down the last of my wine and put the glass in the sink for now. After a visit to the washroom, I was just about ready.

I glanced at the time, there was five minutes left.

It took under a minute to light the candles, then I turned out the lights in my living-room. I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the low flickering light. I picked up the book and grabbed a cushion.

With just a minute left I placed the cushion on the floor next to the circle, then I kneeled down on it and opened the book to the page with the ritual.

My heart was pounding, but I was ready. I was about to summon a Goddess.

When the clock under the TV blinked over to twelve, I took a deep breath then began reciting the words my grandmother wrote down all those years ago.

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