Chapter 2:

Herb Gathering Gone Wrong

I honestly would have preferred someone to assist me in this endeavor, but Mia was called back to help out her dad on her day off, and Bryson has to tend to the shop alongside his father. This just means I have to practice steadying my heart-rate as I work, what a pain this is.

And what is with me actually following through with this job? I could easily just abandon it. That guilt tip from earlier must have gotten to me or else I would’ve abandoned the quest.

I find myself walking alone in the forest, the birds are chirping away in their sing-songy tones, and the leaves on the trees are rustling gently as the wind blows oh so gently. If I wasn’t gathering herbs, I’d think I’d take a nap right here.

The herbs I’m looking for are called maloi, they look like brown clovers, wilted-like. Despite the brown of the clover sunlight still gathers within, and the nutrients gather in rather vast amounts within them, causing them to be a good ingredient for medicines.

I find a bunch by a great oak tree deep within the forest, there seems to be about fifty of them, probably more cause it's just a guesstimate. I open my bag and begin to carefully fill it with the maloi. Each time I pick one they emit a powerful mint-like smell. Eventually it comes to a point where all I can smell is the burning sensation that is mint. “Great, my bag is probably going to smell like mint for a while now.” I mutter to myself.

This smell brings me back though. Back to a time where I was a very small child. Mia and I had always been finding ourselves into scraps against the generally passive wildlife around here. We always ended up getting cuts and bruises all over ourselves when we arrived home. Yeah, I was a stupid child back then, I didn’t know that all the fighting against the wildlife wouldn’t benefit me in the slightest, I didn’t know that years later, I would have developed a heart condition. But back then, I didn’t care. Mom had always patched us up with maloi infused bandages that reeked of mint and made the pain go away.

After finishing up the task of harvesting, I slowly get up from my knees and begin on my way back home.

***

It turns out that I didn’t know the forest like the back of my hand, now I’m lost. I’ve been wandering around the woods for quite some time now. I’m pretty sure that I have passed this tree stump several times now, and worst of all dusk is now falling. What a pain, I was sure I had memorized the way I had taken to get here.

Dusk really is the time anyone wouldn’t want to be in the forest all on their lonesome. During the day, there’s generally simple monsters like squirrels and rabbits, maybe even the stray wolf. But the dark of night is when the higher rank monsters come out to feast upon their prey.

I would make shelter, but attempting something that strenuous might up my heart-rate, and I refuse to allow that to happen. So, I end up wandering until it becomes pitch black outside.

All was not pitch-black however. I notice a bunch of lights in the distance among the trees, is it the village finally? No, as I get closer I can hear the laughter of merry men and the sounds of steel plates rattling. Is this a travelers camp? They seem to be friendly enough if they’re making such a commotion in the woods like this. As I creep closer, the camp appears in full sight, and I’m filled with dread of what I see. It’s the Matranian flag, one of our next door territories, waving along in the wind, and illuminated by the orange hue of the campfire. Two war-tents set up side by side. Accompanying the tents are soldiers in their plate-mail armor, each one of different shapes and sizes, some playing instruments and drinking, while others stand guard. I find myself diving into what I make out to be a bush.

What are they doing here? Isn’t it a violation of treaties for them to be across the border? I slowly crawl my way out of the bushes to sneak away from this ticking time bomb. Unfortunately since it’s pitch-black out, I end up breaking a stick with a loud snap. It wasn’t ear-piercingly loud though, just loud enough to attract some of the guards that were positioned outside the camp.

“What was that?” I hear one of them say.

“Demon? Monster?” Another one says.

“No way, probably just a squirrel rustling around us, the monster repellent charms are incredibly effective in this weak-ass territory.”

“You sure?”

“You worry too much.”

Thankfully they aren’t the brightest patrolmen. I wait until their voices become faint, now I can leave. But where to? Out of all places this is ironically the safest while it’s dark, but at the same time, this camp isn’t a safe place to be either. Lurking around the camp is my best option. I’ll just need to keep a cool head and everything will be fine. Most of them are drinking after all, so the security shouldn’t be that tight.

Slowly, I creep out behind one of the war tents set up around the camp, and I hear the voices of two men talking.

“A sneak attack, what a perfect plan our head of territory has come up with.” One of the men says in a calm and composed voice.

The other man’s voice comes out in a deep husky tone. “Yes, if we pull this off, the territory will belong to Matranian Empire.”

“Failure isn’t an option, if this fails we’ll have essentially declared war on the Alino territory.”

It seems their aim is to attack Lefaso first. A viable strategy if I do say so, we're an incredibly weak territory but why? I try to listen in closer for curiosity's sake, and end up leaning closely to the wall. What can I say, curiosity got the better of me.

I hear the gruff man sniff the air, “Mint?”

“It seems a little rat has been listening in on us.” The composed sounding man says.

Mint? Shit! I forgot about the Maloi! I had become so used to the smell after my trek in the woods and didn’t even notice a thing! On top of that, a beastkins sense of smell is five times greater than that of a humans, there's no way they wouldn't have one for such an important mission.

I hear the sounds of steel being drawn from a sheath, followed by the sights of the wall of the tent being shredded to bits with loud rips of the fabric. I flinch, the very thin barricade between me and the two soldiers had quickly collapsed, giving me little time to flee. Then again, that’d work my heart up, so staying was the best course of action.

The one with their sword drawn is a man of average build, his face long and narrow and skin a pasty white. Given how he’s now hunched over after his swing, he’s highly trained in swordplay. “State your name, rat.”

Rat? Is that really how he’s going to address me? Whatever. “Why should I tell you?” I say with a faux yawn, “All I’m doing is taking a midnight stroll.”

The other soldier, a beast-kin, big, furry and bearing long fangs, growls, “A midnight stroll wouldn’t bring someone into our camp now would it?” The narrow-faced man grabs me by the collar of my shirt, his blade next to my neck.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe it wouldn’t take me here” I admit, trying to keep myself cool, “But look at me, I’m scrawny. Monsters would love to feast upon me.”

His blade goes ever so closer to my neck. “Why indeed, but you’ve heard too much.” The narrow faced man says, “You would have a chance of survival out there, unlike here. Die.”

They really don’t want me to know of this plan, do they.

I feel the steel edge of the sword quickly slide against my throat. It’s cold and extremely sharp. So this is how I die, huh?

For the first time in years, I felt a strong emotion: fear. Fear of death. I feel the adrenaline in my body kick in as I fall to the ground, and my heartbeat begins to intensify.

No, I don’t want to change!

Soon, I start to laugh as my body becomes overwhelmed by an indescribable sensation.

“What are you laughing for!” The narrow faced man says, “I just cut a vital artery!”

Of course I’m aware of this, the taste of blood is never pleasant. Normally a normal person's pulse would have halted after a couple minutes of severe blood loss, either that or it was a quick and clean kill. Yet my heart beat grows faster, the sensation throughout my body becoming more intense.

“Stand back, sir!” The beastkin exclaims.

I can feel my body now shifting. My hair, once short and messy, turns a light shade of purple and begins to grow. As that process takes place, the wound on my neck begins to close, becoming all around thinner. Warmth begins to flow back into my body. My torso creaks it’s shoulders becoming rounder, and skinnier. My hands and feet begin to become more petite, and my nails begin to grow ever so slightly. I try to get back up, but fall to my knees as my legs become shorter and more dainty-looking, the same follows for my arms. My torso shrinks as my waist expands, giving my body a slight curve. A burning sensation in my crotch causes me to wince in pain. I can feel my manhood quickly retreat back into my body, replacing it with that of female genitalia. My skin grows softer as my chest begins to ache. I grasp my chest with my now feminine-looking hands, puffing into two small breasts, not very pronounced, but subtle. My face begins to feel lighter, and my eyes become bigger. I can’t help but giggle as my voice gradually becomes higher pitched.

I see the two generals watch in horror as the changes take place. I don’t blame them, the changes are about as pleasant as scraping a fork along a plate.

Soon, my now light purple hair stops growing as it reaches the back of my ankles. I slowly get up from my knees, tightening my belt buckle so my pants wouldn’t fall.

You won’t recognize me for me anymore, all you’ll see is a dainty 5’4”, 18 year-old flat-chested girl, her light purple hair dangling close to the ground and large brown eyes that could stare into your soul. Her pants barely fitting her waist, and shirt extremely loose.

“Get away, demon!” The Beastkin exclaims in horror.

“Demon? Now that’s rude.” I say, wiping the blood off of my face. “You were the ones that did this to me.” I step forward, my balance is slightly off-kilter now thanks to my now girlish figure, so my movements sway. My boots are now loose and heavy, so I end up sliding them off of my feet as I slowly trudge my body towards them.

I hear the metallic footsteps of the other soldiers in the camp. That’s cute, they want to see what is going on.

As the mix of sober and drunken soldiers arrive all they do is scratch their heads in confusion. “A small girl?” One of them says to another. “I thought we were being attacked by a demon, the generals are making a fuss about this?”

On of the soldiers begins to step forward, but the Beastkin raises his arm, preventing him from going forward. “Don’t even think about it.” He says, “This person isn’t normal.”

“Aww, you figured it out?” I pout, “darn, I wanted to crush his little skull.”

The narrow faced man holds his sword by his side, hunched over, now waiting to strike me. I step forward again, unfazed. He swings his blade and I lean over to the side, I feel the breeze of the swing flow past me. At that moment, I’ve finally warmed up. He thrusts his blade forward and I jump ever so slightly, gently landing on the blade of his weapon. The guards gasp as my bare feet remained unharmed.

I may look weak like this, but I’m far from it. What’s more surprising though is the arm strength this man has. To support the weight of a human body on the blade of his sword is quite the feat.

“This should be fun.” I feel a grin spread across my face as I jump off of the blade and towards the beastkin with a swirling kick. My feet make contact with his soft-fluffy jaw with ironically great impact, sending him barreling into his fellow soldiers with a loud thud and a couple screams of agony.

Mr. Narrow-Face’s blade swings past my head as I quickly duck. I retaliate with a swift kick to his side before he can swing again. He holds a firm grip on his blade as he’s sent backwards. It is almost impressive that he could even stand his ground, especially for a human of his level, his stance is unwavering.

Behind me, I hear the once cautious Beastkin soldier stir from the pile of soldiers with loud growls. It seems I’ve now pissed off the giant fur-ball. Fur-balls aren’t to be trifled with when pissed. But I’m pissed as well, I’m not going to let my hometown be demolished by backstabbing Matranians, especially since they’ve provoked me!

The fur-ball recovers his bearings and charges towards me with a thundering roar, “You bastard! You aren’t gonna get into a fight with us Matranians unscathed!”

“Unscathed?” I stifle a laugh as I leapt over him, “Try me asshole!”

“What?!” I swing a punch in his direction, and he throws me up in the air. He’s fast.

“Now, General!” The furball shouts. It’s impressive that he could keep his mind in check despite his seething anger.

Before I knew it, another rush of wind passes by me as I fall. Mr. Narrow-Face’s blade barely missed me, only tearing my baggy shirt into many strands of shredded fabric. “Damn it!” I shout, visibly irritated, “Mother made this for me!” I land on the ground and charge at Mr. Narrow-Face, he’s thrown his only weapon, making him an open target. But his friend gets in the way with his massive paws and swings a heavy punch.

Instead of dodging his swing, I decide to counter with my own heavy swing. They both collide with an immense force, however mine was greater. He lets out a loud roar in pain. The shock-wave from the impact cause the bones in his hands to crumble into dust, rendering it unusable. He grabs me with his other paw with great speed, and holds me by the neck.

His grip starts to tighten. As if I’m gonna let the fur-ball choke me.

I grab his paw and pry my neck free from the fur-ball. Then grabbing a hold of his good arm, I twist until his arm is dislocated with a deafening crack.

“Kaumo!” Mr. Narrow-Face exclaims, “This isn’t worth it! Retreat!”

“But, General! This naked brat crushed my paw and broke my arm!”

“You can’t fight without an arm, that’s suicide… and I know when we’ve lost.” Mr. Narrow-Face raises his arms in surrender, all hostility seems to have faded away from his spirit. “I don’t know who you are, little girl. But you are a formidable foe.” He says with a grimace, “You’ve fractured my ribs and pulverized Kuamo’s hands. We’ll leave the territory.”

So that kick did have an effect on him after all...

“Just like that?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m a man of my word.”

“But General!” Kuamo says, “The Matranian leader will punish us severely for failing!”

“At least we’ll live to see another day, Kaumo.” He says, “Though that cannot be said for your arms.”

I take a moment to gather my thoughts. If they no longer had the intention to fight, then I can’t let them die, it’d be bad for my conscience. “Then here,” I say, reaching for my pouch of maloi, “Use these to aid your troops way back.”

“I thank you, but showing kindness to the enemy?”

“No, It was my fault for hurting you so badly, and you clearly have no intentions to continue fighting.”

Mr. Narrow-Face smirks, “I shall accept your kindness this day, girl. But may I ask, what is your name?”

I find myself grinning, “I’m Tracy Mitrano, a child from the village of Lefaso.” What am I, stupid? Did I seriously give him my name so easily? The answer to my own question is, the warriors code. It was only courtesy. “And I’m a man!” I pout. Yeah, as if he’d believe that coming from a small girl.

“I shall remember that.” He turns to the soldiers gathered before him, “My men, we shall pack up and head back to the capital at once!”

I hear the soldiers mutter incoherently under their alcohol drenched breath as they begin to disassemble their tents. Those who were utterly inebriated end up falling asleep on the cold-hard ground. While the others gripped their heads in pain as they become sober.

Honestly these guys are horrible soldiers, to be hung-over by the morning of the attack, they’d find themselves dead before they knew it.

It takes till after midnight before they have everything packed up and leave. Mr. Narrow-Face gives me a spare shirt that the soldiers had lying about to wear as an apology for tearing up the one I was wearing. It was funny in hindsight, I had entirely forgotten I was topless until that very moment. My face feels as if it turned a bright red. I'm still miffed though, that was my favorite top.

I end up staring at the cloudy night sky by the end of it all.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but my heart condition saved my life. The other me… the repressed me, had come to surface at the last second. A me I’ve come to reject throughout all my life, and why I had become so apathetic with everything I’ve done in life. This was my condition, when my heart beats fast enough, I become a girl. A girl with the strength and stamina of many men. But however great the abilities of this self are, I want to be strong. Not as that me, but as me. And the trouble is, anything could trigger it, from arousal to strong emotions of fear and joy. Training my body without switching is a straight up impossibility and it infuriates me.

After a couple hours passing, I can hear a familiar voice shouting for my name, “Tracy! Where are you?!” Mia? Out here in the early hours of the morning? That’s dangerous!

Tightening my loose pants, I follow the voice into the trees yet again.

Sure enough, there Mia is. Walking in the woods shouting my name.

I can’t help but suddenly feel a tad playful despite my concern for her, and climb to the tree-tops. “Tracy! Where are you?!” She shouts again.

I take this as a cue to literally drop on in her. Causing both of us to end up, face-first in the dirt.

“Tracy?” A muffled Mia asks, “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?” I pout.

“Did your condition kick in?”

“Hmm, I dunno.” I say in a snide tone.

This is another trait of the other self I reject, my mindset changes in how I act behaviorally, at least that's what I believe happens.

She pulls herself off from the ground to get a good look at me. “What happened? You’re not wearing the same top from last time I saw you.”

So the top gave it away? Though it’s oddly specific, it is a truthful observation, but really it should have been evident because I’m my other self right now. Whatever, I’ll just let that one slide. “Well, umm.” Honestly I don’t want to tell her about the soldiers and the camp, that might lead to trouble with the other territory and bring about war-times in the village. However, against my better judgment, the information slips from my tongue.

It takes a moment for her to process the newly obtained information. “Papa is going to be mad.” She says. “What purpose would they have to gain from attacking us?”

“Who cares about that?” I say, embracing Mia compulsively. “You’re here, so I’m all good.” I feel my body trembling, as if a wave of sorrow had washed right over me.

“Tracy?”

“You’re… here…” I feel a tear roll down my cheek. It’s surreal, I can never find my male body muster up such an emotion, and now I cry as if a limiter is removed from my mind. The shock of last night's events had finally taken hold.

“Tracy…” She says, returning the embrace. “It’s all right…”

“I w-was so terrified, Mia.” I sniffle, “I was looking at death head-on.” I have never been in such a predicament in my life, fighting for my life. It might be pathetic to see a eighteen year-old boy cry like this, but I’m a girl right now, so it's okay to cry, right? Despite my confidence during the fight, I was honestly scared out of my mind. Dying isn’t something someone should go through more than once in their life, and I had already crossed that threshold.

“Tracy, you saved the village from something we didn't know about… we can see another day...”

The tears become more intense as the time goes on. This is what Mia is for this form of me, a shoulder to cry on. A shoulder to cry on, and a warm embrace.

I love her.

***

My tears have finally dried up after what feels like hours, my body normal again I feel gross and sluggish.

“Are you all-right now?” Mia asks me.

“Yeah.” I say meekly. “But what were you doing here?”

“You hadn’t returned from Bryson’s little scheme to get you to work. I was worried, I shouldn't have left you by your own. So come on. Let’s take you back.”

“Okay.” I mumble.

She helps me up onto my bare feet and guides me to the edge of the forest. I wince from the occasional rock I step on, somehow I had lost my shoes while I was finding my way back, I'll hold off on getting some new ones at town till mum gets paid. And at the edge of said forest was Mia’s Dad, his arms crossed and face stern. He stands beside a small platoon of soldiers. It seems I can’t go home just yet.