Anger. Frustration. I couldn’t sense, but I could feel. I was floating, adrift and in burning pain. Focus came with great difficulty; thoughts and memories slipping like sand through my fingers. I had fingers, right? I should, but I didn’t know anymore.

I remembered talking to Abby for the first time. We had classes together and one of them taught us the history of the Kingdom of Edath, now Edath Province. The forest outside of town had been the site of a battle. She had come up to me one day and asked me to go there with her. I didn’t even know her. She said she always saw that I seemed happy during history lessons and that it’d be fun.

Happy… Was I happy? No, not often. Only rarely, in fact. I was happy when we talked about history, when I could get away from the reality of what I was ‘supposed’ to be. Being with Abby and my little sister Tania made me happy.

We'd snuck out after dinner and made it into the forest. Abby found an old sword hilt and she gave it to me—it was the only thing we found the whole night.

The hilt burst into flames in my hand. I looked up.

Abby was on fire.

I’m on fire.

We were screaming.

No, she’s screaming.

They killed Abby.

They killed my parents.

They killed Abby’s family.

They killed me.

I should kill them.

Rip them—no, burn them. Maybe both? No, that’d still be too good for them. The whole Church should burn. Lord Carvalon should burn. Linthel—no, Edath—no, all of Ordia should bu—

My thoughts stopped.

My cheek stung.

I reached up to feel it with my hand, the hand I now had. I still couldn’t see, but I could feel. The burning started to ebb, giving me moments of clarity between agony.

Then, there was another presence.

Another memory.

We couldn’t sneak into the fort, but there was an old temple nearby, hardly more than a foundation. Tania snuck out after us. We heard her shout; she’d fallen into a hidden basement. Her arm was bent bad and she was crying. Abby ran for help.

The room where Tania lay grew hot and lit up with fire.

Flames crept closer to her whimpering form as I watched.

They started them.

They wanted to trap her: To burn her.

But I didn’t need her.

They would all burn anyway.

Everything would burn for—

A splash of water scattered the flames.

 Abby was back holding an empty bucket, but she shouldn’t be back yet. Her form was indistinct, wispy and fragmented. She turned her head to me: all I could see were her eyes. Sorrowful, pleading, hurt, confused. Determined.

But the water would do nothing. My flames wouldn’t be stopped by—wait: my flames. These flames were mine, not theirs. No one should burn here. I looked to the room and the flames receded. I won’t let Tania burn.

Abby came back. Her form here was clearer and she brought people and rope. After this, we had all gotten in big trouble. I thought Tania would hate me, but she didn’t! She’d even tried to blame herself, but I told her it was my fault we didn’t watch her. She said she snuck out: I said I knew that. We both smiled and the memory slipped away.

I was embracing another presence in the void now. I could feel my arms and my chest. My legs felt numb until the other presence stepped on my toe. I have toes. The burning had faded into a strong heat. Uncomfortable, but tolerable.

Another memory approached.

I’d just gotten an apprenticeship, and I was working on a batch of iron nails. My arms were a sheen of sweat and hair. I hated them. My chest was hairy and my face was getting there. I hated those too. Bourick was out front talking to two customers and I could hear Abby’s voice. Miss Meissner was helping her order rivets and buttons for work clothes. Abby asked about me, then I heard footsteps coming back.

She poked her head in and smiled at me, then frowned when she saw me glaring at my arms. I looked up and my eyes were wet, but I wiped them quickly. She came over and asked what was wrong.

I told her.

I told her everything about how I hated my body and how wrong everything seemed with me. I also told her what I’d want instead: smooth arms and skin, a less masculine face, a different body shape. It all came tumbling out. She seemed sad, but after a moment, she brightened up again and she looked at me with determined green eyes.

“I think it just means you’re not a guy, Zach.” Her voice echoed oddly in the room.

“Wha?”

“Like, you were born with the wrong body. You said that you hate it, right?”

I nodded, numb and unsure.

“Well then it means it’s wrong!” She smiled at me, bright and happy. “Like shoes that rub and chafe. Or chocolate and steak.”

I smiled back at her. “That was your idea. We’d saved up for a month for the chocolate just to waste it.”

“Well yeah, they’re my two favorite foods. Doesn’t mean they go together.” She clapped me on the shoulder.

“So me and my body don’t go together.” I thought about it for a minute.

The shop started to burn.

No.

The flames vanished, except for the fire in the forge.

I was in control.

I looked back at my best friend. Abby’s previously distinct form was now made of dark mist. Pieces were missing, but her green eyes were brighter than ever. Wordlessly, we pulled each other into an embrace.

“I’m so sorry Abby,” I whispered, my voice echoing and losing distinction as Bourick’s workshop faded away.

“Don’t be. I’m so happy we got to know each other. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t let you lose yourself.” Her voice seemed close, but barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know either.”

“That’s okay.” She reached a hand up and mussed my hair before the limb faded away. “Face it head on and figure it out later!”

“You suck at advice.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Abby started to fade at an accelerated pace. I could feel my form becoming more distinct as hers wavered. Above my sternum, the burning intensified as Abby’s body grew fainter.

We looked each other in the eyes again. She was crying tears of nothingness, but the last vestiges of her face held a smile.

“Be you. Don’t forget me, but don’t you dare get stuck on me either.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good. Call me selfish, but go live a life we’d both be proud of.” All that was left was her face, smiling wide. “Goodbye, Zarenna.”

“Goodbye, Abigail.”

The last thing I could see were her bright green eyes; I swear she winked at me. Then, there was a flash of green and a surge of feeling. The pain in my sternum flared one last time and then cut abruptly. Around me, I could see the void grow slightly brighter.

Zarenna.

I knew Zarenna was my name the moment Abby had said it. Her last act was to find my name and I would carry it with me always; more precious than any gift. Fury over her death and my own still burned within me, but it remained tenuously under my control, at least for now. Whatever happened next, I’d tackle head on and figure out later. Maybe not exactly head-on, but that last bit of advice brought a smile back to my newly whole face.

The place above my sternum glowed green and the wisps of mist that had been floating apart drew toward me. In the distance, behind me, I sensed and then turned to see a roiling mass of mist. I knew I had been inside that maelstrom moments ago. Even now, the mist was settling down. Wisps closer to the mass were drawn into the roiling, densifying cluster.

Other memories, fragmented and terribly distorted, flew through my mind. People I knew in passing, people I didn’t. Perspectives I couldn’t figure out. Then, a clearer memory.

I finally did it: I asked him out. He was shocked, but he accepted. Any girl who was brave enough to ask a guy out was one he shouldn’t pass up a chance with, he’d said. Cheeky! We’d known each other for years; I was just glad he fancied me the same way.

I almost didn’t recognize the boy at first. Slowly, I realized he was my father. He and mom always talked about how they were each other’s first love. A pang of sadness lanced through me. I knew I’d never see them again. I already knew that, but now I was more than certain.

My mom had asked my dad out against social convention. Maybe they’d have been okay with me? No, they absolutely would’ve been. Maybe it would have been difficult, but I shouldn’t have doubted my parents.

The memory faded and I felt more at ease. A last wisp, further than the others, made it to me.

One last memory.

I had old hands. These hands had just finished writing. I let the ink dry, put away the pen and closed the book. The front read “Beginner’s Guide to Magic”. I set the book in a small wooden chest with some of my old foci and tools and latched it shut.

As the memory ended, I realized the “me” in the memory was Abby’s nan. And this memory was from her last night alive.

The last night alive for all of us here.

But now, in this void, I could feel and think. I felt like me, like Zarenna. Was I alive? And wait, Bourick mentioned Abby’s nan when we were running to the fire. If only I could remember what he said. Did it even matter now?

Behind me, the roiling mist coalesced into a dense ball. I drifted further and further from it. I didn’t know what the ball of mist was, but I knew it was the cause of my pain and those twisted thoughts. Even now, I could feel wrath within me, but it was controlled.

The ball of dark mist, at the edge of my perception, seemed to bend out of reality. Around it, the void warped and twisted until something snapped. It hurt to look at and I looked away. When I turned back, the void was empty and still again.

I continued to drift.

I thought about myself and Abby. And I thought about Tania. I hoped she was alive, but I’d never know if I stayed drifting in the void. I’d never make use of Abby’s gift or get to know and love my new name.

Zarenna. The name was unusual, that was for sure, but so was its donor. It was a perfect fit.

This time I caught my thoughts as they wandered. I needed to get out of this place. The mist ball left somehow, so I could too. Turning and tilting, I realized I couldn’t do anything to move. I still couldn’t even truly see my own body; I just knew that I had one. My limbs felt distinctly like they existed, but that was it.

I tried to think about leaving. Eventually, I grew frustrated, and then angry. I felt my core heat up, but strangely it didn’t burn me; it just grew hotter and hotter.

Suddenly, I felt myself being flung through the void. Around me, the nothingness grew redder and redder and hotter and hotter to match my own internal fire. I tried to focus my anger as it grew out of control, but it threatened to overwhelm me.

Just as I reached my limit, I felt the void around me bend and twist. I pushed up against the strange surface, then seemed to pass through a membrane of some sort. I didn’t feel the void snap back. I didn’t feel the void at all anymore. All I felt was a cloying heat and an immense pressure.

I was being dragged upward. My everything felt numb. I knew I still had a body, but I couldn’t figure out how to do anything with it. I was pushed up and up, then to one side. I felt a floating, rising sensation like a cork in water. The heat was still intense, but the pressure started to ease. I tried to open my eyes, but first I had to remember how. When I did, all I could see around me was a dull red mass.

Then I felt a limb, a leg probably, break through the cloying heat into much cooler air. I moved and twisted, unsure of what I was doing, but in my mind, I was trying to right myself. I don’t think I succeeded. But whatever I was stuck in was dense and I floated up on my own. Limbs in a tangle, I reached and pushed and pulled in any direction I could think of. I grabbed onto and kicked solid pieces that crumbled away, but eventually I grabbed something solid and held on. I righted my body as best I could and felt my head breach the surface into cooler air.