Over the next week, my life fell into some strange semblance of normalcy, if you could call spending a ton of time on another world normal. It was a strange experience to go from a day of school to a day or two in Pellan. Sometimes it was amazing, having that extra day to de-stress after a hard day of school, sometimes it was a detriment. I got confused at school on several occasions when people spoke about “yesterday” which to me would be a day of building and grinding in Pellan, but to them was another day of school.

I was playing catch up at school too now. I had only missed a few days since the start, but we’d been assigned homework now so it was causing trouble. I wish I could do my school work in Pellan, then at least I’d have more time to do it. Made me wish that the time chamber from that old cartoon people like my parents used to watch was real.

My favourite class was now hands down my art class. I had enjoyed it before, but now that I could actually draw properly, I loved it. My drawing of Karen in battle pose was coming along nicely, and I was impressing a lot of people in the class. It was funny how being cute and talented made people notice you much more. Although to be fair I would have hated the attention back when I was Sam. It still made me uncomfortable now, but at least I was socialising as my true self, which took a whole lot of the discomfort out of it.

In Pellan we were making good progress with our surprise village. By wednesday the next week we’d built both the cabin and the barracks for our new friends. The barracks had proven to be a challenge, because we initially hadn’t accounted for its increased size and the thing had threatened to collapse before we made adjustments. We’d decided to grind hard after that, murdering the local wildlife and enemies left right and center.

There had been one incident at school that wasn’t so fun. I was on my way to another class and I was already running late. My previous one had been art and everyone, including the teacher, had gotten super wrapped up in the class and we’d ended up running overtime. This meant that when I saw Juliet and her friend walking down the corridor towards me, it was just us. Juliet saw me and her face slid into a grin that sent little flashes of fear branching through my mind. What was she going to do?

I tried to ignore them, pressing myself as much as I could against the wall while still walking forward, but they decided not to let me do that. Juliet seemed to know better than to get physical with me, but her friend, a tall modelesque girl with daggers for eyes moved into my path. I was forced to press myself flat against the wall to avoid being shoulder checked by her and I closed my eyes for a blow that I was sure would come after I dodged her.

I opened them again when I heard her speak, “What the fuck?”

She was staring at me, and I quickly looked down at myself to try and figure out what she was talking about. I found nothing. I wasn’t there! Where was my body? My breathing became panicked before I remembered our adventure off into superhero dimension land. I could turn invisible now! I smiled, then giggled when my elation at fading from the bullies sight bubbled up out of me.

“Did you hear that?” the girl said, waving a hand forward, which I only just ducked under in time.

“Let’s go,” Juliet said curtly, her eyes darting around with apprehension, “That little bitch will get what she deserves soon anyway. No point fucking with her now.”

“What do you mean?” the friend asked, turning back and frowning at Juliet.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s go,” Juliet insisted, pulling her friend away from where I was standing invisible to their eyes.

“Okay,” the friend shrugged, following her leader down the corridor, “But she just disappeared!”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it,” Juliet insisted again.

I watched them walk out of the hallway, then slowed and calmed my breathing until I was visible once more. What did she mean about getting what I deserve? I needed to watch out for myself. I hoped she wasn’t going to spread any more rumours about Karen. I was pretty sure I could deal with anything she tried on me, but Karen had her overbearing bigoted parents to deal with.

Other than that one incident, things had been calm for me, and I’d needed that calm desperately. My life had been one frantic thing after another to deal with, and I hadn’t had much time to deal with my own thoughts. Thoughts that had been piling up.

I was definitely a lesbian, and it wasn’t just liking girls that convinced me of this. It was odd, because not only was I attracted to women, but I was attracted to them for reasons outside what a man would be attracted to them for. I wasn’t that interested in boobs or asses or any of the other things that men wouldn’t shut up about. I mean sure, they were great, but what really got me going was the curve of Karen’s jaw, or the way her hip bone protruded just a little from her hips. I loved the soft unblemished skin of her neck and collarbone, I loved the subtle way her body curved down the sides. I loved the muscles in her arms that were simultaneously sleek and strong at the same time.

I thought back to what I had liked about guys, but I just couldn’t find anything there anymore. Just hollow echoes that seemed almost false in my eyes now. I had crushed on Jeremy sure, but the feelings I had back then paled in comparison to whenever I looked at a girl now. It wasn’t a great feeling doubting my own mind and senses from back then. Everything felt hollow and empty, like a house that was ready to be handed over to new owners. I was a girl now, in my own mind especially, and I felt… I felt like I had no need to be attracted to men. As though I had crushed on them because I had wanted to feel some small spark of femininity, but I wasn’t sure.

It was these crisis of thought that I needed to work my way through, and the downtime helped me do this. It also helped Karen and I build our relationship to deeper and greater heights. I smiled every time I thought about her, the way she held herself, the way her eyes softened when they met mine. She was incredible, and I know it’s such a cliche both as a lesbian and as a teenaged girl, but I wanted to stay with her for a long time. The word forever danced around the edges of my mind like a wish and a dream and a forbidden fruit all in one.

It wasn’t all me though. I had another girl to save from the demons of her assigned gender. Isabelle and I were making preparations. Those preparations were what brought me to where I stood now. I was in front of a fairly average inner suburban house with two storeys and a little yard. It was Isabelle’s house. I was about to help her explain to her parents all the things about who she was and what would be happening soon. I was feeling all kinds of anxious, possibly even terrified. I really hoped this went well. I reached up and knocked.

Isabelle opened the door almost immediately, and I could tell she was scared out of her mind. Poor girl trapped in a boy’s body, a body that was shaking like a leaf in the Wellington wind.

“Hey Izzy,” I smiled, trying to fight my own anxiety so that I could help her deal with hers.

“Hey Syl. Um, my parents are in the living room right now,” she mumbled, not looking at me.

“Alright. I’ll follow you. Do they know we’re going to talk to them?” I asked, following her as she went inside.

“Um.. yeah. I said I needed to talk to them but I had you coming to help,” she nodded. Gosh she looked ready to break down right here.

I reached forward and pulled her into a quick hug, “Hey things will be fine Izzy, we got this!”

“I hope so… my parents have been okay with lgbt stuff in the past, but you know how trans issues have been a divisive issue for the last ten years,” she said, her voice hitching slightly.

“Yeah… I know. Come on let’s do this. It can’t be worse than waiting can it?” I asked, nudging her with a finger.

“Yeah… yeah! Okay… I’ll talk first, then I guess I’ll ask you for input or something. I don’t know,” she said, visibly psyching herself up, “This way.”

I followed her through the house and into a rather cozy feeling lounge. It wasn’t like the more modern setup my parents had in our house, it was more… fluffy? I know, funny choice of wording there, but it was like... there was a big persian rug on the ground and quilts draped over all the couches. Three big comfortable looking armchairs sat in the corners and an aging flat screen in the fourth. It was nice and homey.

Izzy’s parents sat together on one of the couches, smiling pleasantly at us both as we entered the room. Izzy’s mother was a largish woman in her forties that seemed like the type of person who heaped your plate just a little too high because she thought you “didn’t have enough meat on your bones”. Izzy’s father was a small bespectacled man with large eyes and a pleasant smile. I pegged him as a friendly accountant. Don’t ask why.

“Hello there! Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” the mother said, standing up to greet me with a warm smile and a double handed handshake.

“Uh, yeah…” I said softly, intimidated by the woman who seemed to take up twice as much space in the room as she actually did.

“When Zach said he needed to tell us something, I thought he was going to tell us he was gay, not that he has a girlfriend! What’s your name sweetie?” she said, smiling like she’d just won the lottery.

“What’s wrong with being gay?” I asked suspiciously, before my anxious brain could stop the words.

“Oh well… nothing! But it just doesn’t seem like our son is all,” she said, a little flustered by my question.

“Dear, this isn’t Zach’s girlfriend,” the father piped up with a chuckle, “Look at the way she’s dressed.”

“What do you mean? I don’t see anything odd about the way she’s dressed?” the mother replied with a frown, running her eyes up and down my form.

“Nevermind then, nice shirt you have around your waist there young lady, is that a real tartan?” he asked with a wink.

It took me a second or two to understand what he was talking about, and then I realised something. When I had forgotten my jersey in my room and grabbed my dad’s plaid shirt off the back of a chair, I had accidentally marked myself as a lesbian. I was a walking accidental stereotype! Oh no!

“Um thanks… I don’t know. I stole it from my dad this morning,” I confessed, “Oh um, and my name is Sylanna and I am not… well I am a girlfriend but not your child’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, I am sorry Sylanna! I just assumed… but what did you want to talk about then Zach dear?” her mother asked.

“I um…” Izzy started, shuffling around for a second, then dumping herself in a chair.

I followed suit while Izzy tried to find her words, feeling dwarfed by the huge comfy armchair. I hoped it wasn’t a mimic, but even without that I felt like I was being eaten.

“So you both know I’ve been struggling with depression…” Izzy said slowly.

“Yes dear, we have you seeing a therapist, is she not helping you?” her mother asked, getting visibly concerned with the direction of the conversation.

“Yeah no.. but it’s not her fault! There was a reason for my depression that she couldn’t help with…” Izzy said sadly.

“You can tell us, whatever it is you are still our son,” the father said gently, but I found myself cringing at his use of the word son, and I saw Izzy do the same.

“But I’m not! Not your son I mean,” Izzy blurted in distress.

“Don’t be silly Zach! I think I’d remember if someone else fathered you!” her mother said in confusion. Oh you silly woman. Come on, connect the dots so that Izzy doesn’t have to do it for you? At least her father was saying quiet and letting her explain.

“No I mean… I mean that I’m… I’m your daughter. I’m a girl. Inside my head I’m a girl,” she said, tears finally beginning to well up in her pleading eyes.

Her mother stared at Izzy in confusion for a moment, but her dad let out a quiet “Ahh” and leaned back into the couch he was sitting on. They both appeared to be processing this for almost thirty seconds. Thirty seconds in which Izzy was gearing up to have a full on meltdown.

“Your kid is transgender. Born as the wrong gender, should have been a girl, but physically at least came out as a boy,” I explained into the silence.

Flustered, Izzy’s mum opened her mouth, “That doesn’t make any sense… I don’t want my child to be one of those-”

“Dear, please don’t finish that sentence, you’re better than that,” Izzy’s dad said curtly, surprising everyone, the mother most of all.

“But… but… my baby! He will be attacked! Ridiculed! The world hates people like that! I don’t want that for my child!” she cried, looking between the three people in the room fractically.

“Yes, and that is all the more reason why it should not be her own mother that is one of the attackers! I would not choose this for our child, but unfortunately, We. Do. Not. Control. Fate,” he said, leaning forward and rapping a knuckle on the glass of the coffee table to punctuate his last five words.

Izzy’s mum was speechless for a moment, then seemed to deflate and slump back down onto the couch next to the father. They stared at each other for a moment, then turned to a surprised and wide eyed Izzy.

“Tell us about it. Tell your mother about it so that she can understand,” her dad said, then added, “So that I can understand.”

“I… I don’t feel… I don’t know where to start…” Izzy said, looking to me for help.

“You want me to talk about what it’s like?” I asked apprehensively.

Izzy nodded pleadingly, and I squared my shoulders in preparation. Explaining your darkest thoughts and moments to strangers was probably one of the harder things to do in life.

Taking a deep breath, I did my best to open my heart and mind to help Izzy, “Um… well I used to be called Sam. I was a guy. I also hated it. It was like… it was like my life was stuck with the handbrake on. Everything took more effort and energy, for less reward. I didn’t even fully realise how deep the depression and sadness went, or even that is what it was, until I was free of it. How are you meant to know the extent of your own misery when that is all you’ve known? It just seems like normal everyday life. It’s like how we don’t know what our galaxy actually looks like because we’re inside it. It’s only once we get outside it that we will know what it looks like. Well… when I was changed, I got that view. I slowly started to realise the damage that had been done to my mind simply by existing as the wrong gender.

“I’m still finding more and more destruction and decay with each door I open in my mind to be honest. It’s a struggle to repair it, but loving family and friends… and my girlfriend, are helping so much. That’s also why it’s so important that you keep it together and do whatever you can for Izzy… because she’s going to need to go through that same repair process. She’ll probably never finish, but the more of herself she’s able to discover and work through without outside problems, the better. The stakes are too high for you to screw this up.”

I stared at Izzy’s mother as I said that last line, hoping she got the point. She was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and fear. I really hoped that was just fear for her daughter.

“Thank you,” Izzy breathed gratefully, smiling at me.

“That’s how you feel…? And you said her name is Izzy?” her father asked.

“Yes… I want to be called Isabelle,” she said, almost too softly for us to hear.

“That’s a pretty name!” her mother blurted, her eyes lighting up as though she’d had an epiphany.

“T-thanks,” Izzy squeaked, a little startled, “I um.. Chose it myself?”

Her mother’s mind seemed to be whirring as she stared down at the coffee table in thought. She had an almost manic light in her eyes. Oh no… what on earth was going on in there?

“What’s the next step forward then… Isabelle?” the father asked practically.

“Um… that’s actually where the crazy part comes in,” Izzy said sheepishly.

Her mother’s eyes launched upwards and locked onto Izzy’s as she asked, “What do you mean? That wasn’t crazy enough?”

“Um… yeah. I’m going to transition through magic,” Izzy said, and I thought I caught a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, like she was going to enjoy leading her parents into the reality of our universe.

“Magic…” her father said in a disbelieving deadpan.

“Syl, can you…?” Izzy asked, wiping away stress tears through her grin.

“But which ability? There are so many to choose from!” I grinned back.

“Be… dramatic,” she giggled.

Over the past week of grinding and levelling, I had acquired a rather impressive new ability from my “Chosen of Feslia” skill line. One that was perfectly dramatic for this occasion. One that was very fitting in a roundabout sort of way.

I stood up out of my chair and moved into an open space, then struck a pose with legs together and arms outstretched behind me. Pausing a moment for dramatic effect, I then launched into a spin, twirling my hand in the air as I did so. Unlike the character I was imitating, a cute miniskirt and sailor outfit did not appear on me… Instead when I ended the spin, there was a clang like a hammer striking an anvil. Gold and blue light erupted across my form in a flash, solidifying into translucent armour and fabric. It was a similar outfit to my normal one, but now I had plates of armour running up my legs, a breastplate, gauntlets that ran up to my elbows and a winged helmet like a valkyrie. I looked totally badass.

When my display was done, Izzy’s mother had climbed backwards halfway over the couch, and her father was sitting stock still with his eyes two huge disbelieving saucers. Izzy on the other hand was grinning ear to ear.

“So yeah, magic is a thing. I’m a priestess, and so is your daughter,” I said casually.

“How… what does this mean…?” her father asked, his voice sounding like he’d been stepped on downstairs.

“It means that our goddess is going to transform my body into the one I have in the game I play,” she said, almost giddy, “But I asked her to do it slower than she did it with you. I want to pretend I’m transitioning normally so that I can keep my identity.”

“That’s… you’ve got this all planned out?” her father asked.

“Yeah… Syl came to me and I don’t know how but she realised that I was trans. Offered to help me the same way that she was helped… I really want to do this,” she said, looking at her parents hopefully.

“You’ll be turning into a girl? Your character in a video game?” her mother asked.

“Yup!” Izzy nodded.

“If it means that you are happy, I’m willing to do whatever I need to so that you are,” her father said, and her mother echoed the sentiment, “Although I’m going to need just a tad more explanation that what you two have given us.”

“Oh.. right, yes! Anything you need to know!” Izzy said happily.

“And come here darling, I want to give you a hug,” her mother added, opening her arms.

Izzy practically launched herself into them.