Chapter 1 - Nightshade Tavern

 

The small town of Ronolac had been gaining a reputation.

 

The kingdom’s informants had reported several nefarious bands of deserters-turned-criminals entering the place over the past few months, but all of them had vanished shortly after making themselves known to the townsfolk. With the war raging on all fronts, the king’s spy network had no time to investigate these odd happenings. But the spy master was still very eager to recruit whatever band of fighters was dispatching these bandits with such efficiency. 

 

So he’d sent me, a lone agent of the Crown.

 

I believed in being honest about my intentions, to a point. The townsfolk pointed me towards the local tavern the moment they heard I wanted to help whoever was causing the bandit disappearances. I followed the rumors straight to the source: Nightshade Tavern, a large building on the outskirts of town. 

 

I’d entered through the swinging saloon doors towards the end of the evening, taking a quiet booth in the corner and nursing a shitty beer while I staked the place out. The barkeep and staff had all been polite, and I could see no obvious group of fighters hanging out amidst the scattered wooden tables in the center of the room and the booths lining the walls.

 

I didn’t have to wait long before Orbec the Omen came crashing through the doors. He was a massive pain in the ass to the king’s army, and my hand was on my blade in an instant. But then, I realized, so was everyone else’s. And they all waited quietly as the scene between the barkeep, Orbec, and his victim played out. 

 

I watched a massive mountain of a man get transformed into a petite young woman, and suddenly I had my answer for where all the bandits had been disappearing to. It was absolutely terrifying, watching a powerful sorceress toy with nature so seemingly easily. I needed to leave immediately, before she decided to turn me into a girl too.

 

Instead, I stayed seated. Because there was another part of my soul that had just seen her biggest dream come to pass for someone else, and she needed to find out how. Her plan was simple: wait till everyone else is gone, then talk to the sorceress. 

 

I sat there fighting with myself. 

 

We have a job to do! I shouted internally, We’re expected back at the castle in mere days!

 

Don’t you see? This is our chance, she kept insisting, she can change us, fix us!

 

We don’t need to be fixed, we’re perfectly normal, I retorted.

 

Go try looking in a mirror for five minutes and see how ‘normal’ you feel afterwards! she riposted.

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It doesn’t matter what I look like, I replied.

 

Then let me do this for me, because it matters A LOT for me! she said.

 

Fine, I conceded.

 

Together we waited in that corner booth long into the night. We kept ordering more drinks, but they were all fun non-alcoholic ones. So mostly we had to pee a lot, which involved going outside to the latrine. 

 

On one such occasion I started to ask myself the important questions. Like why couldn’t the other part of me see that we couldn’t risk this? There was no telling what this sorceress would want with us, even if she could grant our deepest wish!

 

Her deepest wish, I meant.

 

The she in question bemoaned me loudly for such a stupid question. Of course we can risk this, we have to risk this, she said.

 

As early morning light filtered through the canopy of trees surrounding the inn, the last few stragglers packed up and settled their tabs. Now we were alone with the barkeep, and I suddenly found myself roughly thrown into the backseat of my brain. My body stood smoothly from the table and walked quietly over to the bar, keeping its eyes on the barkeep. Her back was turned to us, as she unloaded clean dishes into their correct places. She didn’t seem to have noticed us.

 

Even still, as soon as we settled onto the barstool she started talking. 

 

“And what’ll you be having this morning, young one?”

 

My body didn’t flinch, and the other side of me spoke with more confidence than I’d felt in a long time. 

 

“I want you to turn me into a woman,” my mouth said smoothly.

 

There was a pause.

 

“I cannot do what is already done,” the silver-haired barkeep replied bemusedly.

 

This gave my other half pause. “Excuse me?” it asked.

 

Stop calling me it, nitwit, my other half thought angrily.

 

Stop ruining my life! I shouted back.

 

You know we need this, how much longer can beer keep these thoughts away, keep ME away?

 

Hmm, I supposed she had a point.

 

Fine, but can we still be strong? I asked hesitantly.

 

Of course! my other half replied happily.

 

Okay, I conceded.

 

In the time it took for that whole conversation to take place, the barkeep had turned around and given us an appraising look.

 

“You are already a woman,” she says, “but I sense you want my magic to change your looks to match your heart?”

 

We stared into her amethyst-colored eyes.

 

“I, yes, I want that. I- no one’s ever called me a woman before. How can you say that?” My other self sputtered.

 

The strange woman poured a glass of water and handed it to us. We took it and sipped it as she said, “What defines a woman is far more complex than a pair of breasts and wide hips. You want to be a woman so badly you would willingly undergo what many a man considers the worst possible curse. To me, that passion automatically makes you a woman no matter what you look like.”

 

We frowned at her. “But being a woman isn’t a curse,” we protested.

 

“And neither is being a man, unless one is decidedly not a man, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked pointedly.

 

We grimaced, then I stepped forward. I had some questions.

 

“Do you seriously believe that I’m a woman?” I asked, “Or actually, how can you seriously believe I’m a woman, I look nothing like one?”

 

The silver-haired woman smiled slyly. “Can you claim to have seen every woman in existence?”

 

I frowned, lowering my brow. “No,” I replied.

 

“I’ve seen my fair share of girls, running this tavern, and I’d say you fit in just fine,” she said confidently.

 

“Fine, point taken I guess,” I said. I was really losing arguments tonight.

 

My girl self shrugged me aside and tried to change the topic. “What do you do with the men you capture?” she asked.

 

The bartender rolled her eyes. “I change their bodies, not their minds. Most adapt to their new lives quite well. I set them free after a mandatory probation period where we keep an eye on them and make sure they’re not still bloodthirsty maniacs.”

 

We narrowed our eyes. “What do you do with those who don’t pass your tests?” we asked. 

 

She shrugged and smiled. “Worst comes to worst, there’s always the classic turn-em-into-pigs schtick.”

 

“Got the picture,” we murmured.

 

“Anyway, if you’re done asking questions I can tell you the price of the spell you ask for,” the barkeep said casually.

 

We gulped as one. Holy shit. This was it!

 

“Please do,” my other self insisted.

 

“You would need to, in secret, renounce your loyalty to the king, avow your loyalty to my Goddess, and pledge to serve my order in whatever capacity you are able to for the next five years.”

 

We can’t-- I started.

 

We will, my other half finished.

 

“I’m ready to do all that here and now,” my mouth said firmly.

 

The barkeep smiled, her amethyst eyes sparkling with warmth. “Then come with me,” she said, “we’ll do this with a proper ritual, and you’ll get the body you’ve always dreamed of.”