We saw Alyssa sitting on a white stone bench not far from the temple, and waved to her.  Rachel called out “Hey, Alyssa!”

 

                Alyssa can over… she looked nice today, wearing a green dress with a leather sort of vest that seemed to act as both a corset of sorts, and a bra.  There was a top over that, covering much of it, and she had a belt with a few pouches, and leather shoes.  Her arms were covered in light linen sleeves that came to her elbows.  I wondered what Rachel would look like wearing something like that…  I bet it would be a really important moment for her. 

 

                “Hey Alyssa!  Serra Haines says she’d like to see you inside!”  Rachel bubbled.

 

                “How did it go with you?  Can Seoni help you?”  Alyssa looked worried, and excited both.

 

                “It went great!  She says she can do the blessing at the Harvest                Festival, since I’m much older than most people before they change.  We’re going to get changed together, apparently!”

 

                “Eeeee!”  Alyssa squealed happily.  “That’s amazing!  I’m sooo jealous you don’t have to wait for a year like I did!  I’m really happy for you!”

 

                “I know, right!?  I’m super excited… Only 55 days!”  Rachel couldn’t help but laugh with joy.

 

                “So what now?” 

 

                “I have to go get some girl clothes, right away.  We’re probably going to the tailors – I think it’s called “Threads” – and I’ll buy some clothes later today.”

 

                “Oh!  I love going shopping!  Can I see you in your clothes later?”  Alyssa asked.

 

                “Yeah, sure!”

 

                “Great!  I’d better go – I don’t want to keep Seoni waiting!”  Alyssa waved farewell, and headed inside.

 

                I smiled, happy for Rachel.  “Less than two of our months before you get to go full girl.  Way to go, Rachel!”

 

                “Yeah!”   Rachel nodded.  “Did you want to come with me to the tailors?  Maybe help me pick out an outfit?”

 

                “Well, considering I know literally nothing about medieval clothing, I won’t be much help, but sure.  At least I can give you my opinion, if nothing else.”

 

                “Thanks, Jeff.”

 

                “No problem, Rachel.”

 

                We stood a few moments, looking at our feet, or around – just not at each other.  I broke the silence first.  “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier at Alyssa’s house, but I was trying to be honest.  I wasn’t sure if I could return your affection as you were then – and I’m still not now.   And by the time I probably work it out, you’ll be fully female anyway.  I know it’s not the answer you want, but it’s the only one I have at this second.”

 

                “I… I know.  I felt hurt – but I was the one who didn’t tell you.  I know you’re trying hard – I know you’re doing your best.  I guess I was just hoping you could see past my skin and see the me I see inside.  See me for the first time.”

 

                I paused, and looked at her… really looked at her.  She was tall – and male – but she was also slender and wiry instead of beefy and muscular.  Her adams apple wasn’t too pronounced, and a although she had a male profile, if you filed the edges off and made everything rounder and softer, you could almost see what she might look like as a girl.  It wasn’t as much of a stretch as I first imagined – instead of an entirely new body, I just imagined the one she had, softened and rounded.  She’d look a little like her mom. 

 

                “I think I CAN see it, at least a little, Rachel.  I think I can see what you’d look like on the Tea, at the very least.  I guess I never saw it before now, because I never knew to look in the first place.  I’m sorry.”

 

                “I’m sorry too, for not telling you when I first found out.  I was scared.”

 

                “I understand.  We’ll get through it.  Do you want to go get those fancy clothes?”

                “Yeah.  When you saw me, sort of… what did you see?”  She asked.

 

                “Well, mostly just you, with all the hard angles smoothed over and softened.  You kind of reminded me of your mom a bit, but you were still you.  I dunno… Most of it was speculation and imagination, but I think I saw it.”

 

                “What did you think?”

 

                “I thought you’d look like a girl.  Maybe even a really pretty one.  I wasn’t sure – the you I was seeing was fuzzy around the edges.  Sorry, Rachel.  I don’t know how the spell is going to change you…  Maybe you’ll be drop dead gorgeous, or maybe you’ll be just an average girl.  Does it matter?”

 

                “Yes… and no.  I’d love to be pretty.  I’d be happy just being a normal girl.  Being pretty would be nice, though.”

 

                “I hate to tell you this, dorkette, but your features are already sort of pretty.  It’s probably why you got teased so much by bullies in school, and why your dad keeps trying to get you to ‘man up.’  I’ll bet you a gold penny that you’ll be a knockout once you get changed.”

 

                Rachel smiled, and squeezed my hand.  “Thanks, Jeff.  I’ll take that bet.”

 

                “You’re welcome.  I’m glad I got the very first glimpse of the real you.”

 

                “Actually, I am too.  I can’t imagine anyone else I’d want to see me first.”

 

                “Alright, enough mushy stuff.  You need clothes, missy!”  I said, directing us back towards the business section of town.  “This way!”

 

                “Yes sir, your lordship, sir!”  She laughed.

 

                “Oh gods, not you too.”  I sighed.

 

                “Just kidding, doofus.”

 

                “Thank god.”

 

                “Yeah, but here, the question is ‘which one?’”

 

                I sighed…  Rachel’s mood had obviously brightened, and she seemed much happier, and her ebullience made me smile too.  I guess my issues with the angels and my heritage – the lord stuff – were going on the back burner for a while.  That’s okay, I thought.   Rachel needs to have a win, and I need to be there for her.  I can worry about the other stuff later. 

 

 

               

*              *              *

 

 

                ‘Threads’ ended up being in the business section of town – a small three block area where most of the businesses – the inn, the general store, the smithy, and a few other shops – were arrayed around.  Thread’s sign (not surprisingly) looked like three spools of thread with a golden needle thrust through one of the spools.  The shop was painted a nice green color, and it had greenish glass windows with little bubbles in the panes…  I recognized it as the kind of glass that they used to make in the middle ages – thanks grade 12 History class!  It must have been rather expensive, since virtually none of the other shops in town, or any of the houses had glass windows, instead having shutters or cloth drapes over their window openings.  It didn’t bode well for the cost of the goods inside – they might very well be more than we really wanted to pay.

 

                Rachel didn’t seem to notice or realize how pricey the establishment was, but since she needed the clothes PDQ, we went inside anyway.  The inside was classy and nice – soft rich carpeting on the floor, and golden brown wood paneling on the walls the color of dark honey.  The windows let in enough light to brighten the room, and the walls had little nooks and shelves where some finished or partially finished garments were stored.

 

                Rachel whistled, and I did too.  It reeked ‘swanky’ compared to what the locals of Ender’s Hollow had available. As we entered, the door closed behind us and a small bell rang as it shut.  “Be there in a moment!” A voice from a back room called out, and we heard a man approaching. 

 

                “Hello, Sers.”  The man began as he emerged from the back room.  “My apologies.  I was making a pot of tea. My name is Ruven Eldermoon.”  The man had an androgynous voice, with fine features – a little more angular than a human’s features, with a narrow but strong face.  His eyes were a soft mossy green, and he looked fairly attractive as men went, and he had the unmistakable pointy ears of an elf or one of the elf blooded.  He looked tall and slender, without being weak or frail, and he looked middle aged – which to me, meant he must be pretty old, since in all the stories and games, Elves are either immortal or they age really, really slowly.

 

                “Actually its Ser and Serra.”  I began.  “I’m Jeffrey, and my friend is Rachel.  She’s Twin Souled, and needs suitable clothing for a young woman as fast as is possible.”

 

                “Actually, if it’s possible, I’d like three outfits, so I have more than one thing to wear, plus a few sets of underthings, shoes or boots, and maybe something to wear at bedtime.”  Rachel remarked.

 

                “So, Serra Rachel, you need what amounts to a small wardrobe of clothes, and soon.  I can prepare you at least one outfit today, if you are close to the sizes I have readied in the shop, and can have the other outfits ready in a few days.  The boots or shoes I can manage as well, if you aren’t picky about the style, and the rest of the garments will be relatively easy.  What social status do you want to portray, Serra?”

 

                “Well, I’m no noble, but as long as it looks nice and it’s easy to move in, anything is good.  Something a well to do traveler might wear?  Especially in case they get into a fight.”

 

                “I take it the clothes must match the style of normal Twin Souled students – no pants for the ladies, no skirts for the gents, and so forth?”

 

                “Um, Serra Haines didn’t specify… She said ‘get appropriate clothing.’  We hoped you would know what that meant.”

 

                “I do indeed.  This is a rather large undertaking, Serra Rachel.  We will be here several hours as I adjust sizes, and make alterations.  Unless your friend Geoffrey is prepared to be here for the duration, he will probably be very bored.”

 

                “Oh… Crud.”  Rachel muttered.  “Jeff, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to – I had no idea it would take so long.  If you want I’ll meet you back at the inn later?”

 

                “If it’s alright with you, Rachel, I think I will.  I still want to see them when you’re done, but sitting here doing nothing for several hours doesn’t sound too appealing.  Do you mind?”

 

                “Nah.  This looks like a big job.  I’ll be fine.”

 

                “Okay.  If I haven’t seen you by four-ish, I’ll stop by and see how you’re doing.”

 

                “Great!  See you later Jeff.”

 

                “Bye.”

 

                I headed back out into the street, and headed back towards the Emerald Candle.  Inside the tavern part of the inn, the lunch crowd was just starting to gather.  A man in his late twenties, wearing normal clothes, eyeglasses, and a stained smock was sitting at the bar eating bread, pickles and cheese, while two others – common folk, I guessed – were having a pint and some lunch.  I waved to Gideon, and headed upstairs to think in private.

 

                Once in my room, I opened the shutters to let some air in, and sat on my bed to think.  The cool breeze coming in the window helped, and I mulled over my possibilities… Either I don’t try prayer, and learn nothing, or I try prayer and either learn nothing – or learn something.  The only problem I have, was that I’m not sure I wanted answers.  I’m not sure I’m ready to have proof that gods and spirits responded to prayers, or that they actually talked to people and showed their power.  I’m not sure I could accept that.

 

                I brooded for a while – maybe an hour – before I realized I was getting nowhere.  Either I was going to try it, or I wasn’t.  I’m not a coward… I can deal with this, whatever happens.  I hope.  I got off the bed, and turned to face the window and the light streaming in, and knelt.  “Here goes nothing.”  I muttered, and began to pray.

 

                “Hello?  Spirits?  Angels?  It’s Jeffrey… Jeffrey Fowler.  You tried to speak to me a day ago, but I didn’t understand you.  I… I need to know what you wanted.  Why did you want to talk to me?  Who are you?  What is my destiny?  Why am I important enough to have an angel visit me?  Please, help me.  Help me understand why.  I don’t ever want to feel like I failed that badly ever again.  Please… Say something.  Anything.”

 

               

                Once again, I felt something… A presence entering the room.  It was invisible – I couldn’t sense it with my eyes or ears – but I could almost feel it.  “Are you here?”  I asked, my heart in my throat.

 

                *We are.*  The voices sounded both male and female – like two people talking in sync at the same time.

 

                I sighed, letting out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.  “Are you angels?”

 

                *We are not, but neither are we demons.  We are not here to torment you, Jeffrey Fowler… We are here to test you.*

 

                “Why?  Why me?”

 

                *To see if you are worthy.  Because you share qualities we admire. Because you are brave, noble, and kind.  Because you look past the surface to see what lies beneath.  Because you give trust, instead of holding suspicion.  Because you give freely of what is yours, instead of hoarding what is not.  Because you attempt to speak the truth.  Because we hope at your core, you are a good person, Jeffery Fowler.*

 

                “Why?”

 

                *To see if you are worthy to serve us as our agent.  To be our Vigilant.*

 

                “Who… who are you?”  I asked, terrified I would get no answer – or worse, would get one.

 

*We are the Twins, Jeffrey Fowler… And we have come to you asking once again: Are you ready to raise your sword in the service of something stronger than Greed?  Are you ready to serve your fellows with your life – to sacrifice your own safety to protect others?  To act as the shield upon which the wave of Darkness will break?  To act as our hand, here – or on Earth, should you return?  If you accept, we will be with you always – and you will be marked as ours.  Beings of evil will be able to sense your presence – and if you are ready, and your training complete, your presence will strike fear and doubt into their hearts.  We will teach you magic, and healing, that you can use to defend the weak and protect the innocent; to divine truth from lies and to see the evil that lies in men’s hearts.  We will teach you to be brave in the face of utter terror, and how to triumph over impossible odds.  In time, we will teach you wisdom....*

 

Hearing their voices, I blanked out in fright. Two gods were speaking with me, right now!  “If I accept, what will be the cost?  There is no power without price!” 

 

*The cost is your life, Jeffrey Fowler.  Your mortal life will be in service to us – and to your fellow man, or elf, or reechi, harvon, wolfen or dwarf.  To all the races of Mercia – or your Earth, should you return, your duty will be to serve and protect.  To guard the weak, and innocent with your life and strength of arms.  To seek out and destroy evil, wherever you may see it, and to use the powers we teach you to make sure that the just are rewarded, and the wicked are punished.  Your life will be spent as a beacon of hope to others – and to yourself.  Can you pay that price, Jeffrey Fowler?*

 

“I… I don’t know.  Maybe?  I would be willing, I think – but I don’t know if I have the strength.  Would I be able to live a normal life?  Have a family?  Settle down?”

 

*Yes, Jeffrey…* the female voice – Feana, I guessed? – replied.  “Family, home, and a life are all allowed.  They are the fruits of your labor – your reward for putting yourself in harm’s way.  Without family, friends, or community, why would anyone choose to fight at all?  You will be able to have all that, if you wish – but you will also have demands upon you that others do not.*

 

*You will not be able to ignore evil when you see it*  Said the other voice – Hathor.  *You will need to face it, when you recognize it for what it is – and stand against it.  You will have times when you must leave family and hearth and community behind, and ride to battle.  You will need to be ever Vigilant against the forces of darkness – which means there is no telling when or where you may be needed.  But you will save lives.  You will save souls, and you will bring Hope to a world that desperately needs it.  Some cannot pay the price.  Some do not have the strength… Some fall from the Path.  Others rise to the occasion and do what they must to save their fellow mortals.  They strive to be better than they are – aspire to heights they can’t possibly achieve – until they do.  They are paragons of their kind, and they are desperately needed.*

 

“I don’t know what to do.”

 

Feana spoke again, quietly this time.  *If you let us, we will teach you.*

 

“What if I’m not ready?”

 

*We can guide you, until you are ready, or until you turn from the Path.* Hathor said.

 

                “I… I’m not very religious.  I went to church, but I’m not sure I have faith.  I’m not sure I’m ready to worship anyone.”

 

                *We do not ask for your worship, Jeffrey Fowler – we have done nothing to earn it.  We ask that you be willing to sacrifice yourself for others, that you defend the weak and punish the wicked.  All else will come in time.  If we are not the gods of your heart, you will soon know, as will we.  To defend the innocent, to reward the just, to punish the wicked, and to be true to yourself and others, until the end of your days. That is all we can ask.*

 

                “It sounds hard.”

 

                *It is.  At times it will seem a great burden.  Nothing of value is ever easy, Jeffrey Fowler.”

 

                I knelt in silence, thinking.  It was obvious the voices wanted a decision – and I felt if I didn’t have an answer, they might not return.  Did I have the strength to do this?  I didn’t know.  Is it something I want?  To be honest, I never felt like a hero in my life before.  I never felt like I was holy, but what they were asking me was to become their warrior – and maybe in time their priest.  I’m not sure what I want to do – but I decided I was tired of living my life without direction.  I was tired of being the guy who’s almost twenty, living at home with his parents and working at a dead-end job because he doesn’t know what to do with his life.  I want to make a difference.

 

                “I’ll do it.  I’ll try.  I’ll be your Vigilant.”  I said…  and as the words left me, I felt an energy come closer, and enter me, fill me.  It felt good – but it felt heavy too – like a weight within me. 

 

                *Thank you, Jeffrey Fowler.  We will send to you a teacher – a guide, to teach you our ways.  They will make themselves known to you soon.  Heed their advice well.  They know of what they speak.*

 

                “I… I will.”

 

                And with that, the presence in the room faded – but this time I didn’t feel that eldritch fear, or that horrible lack of measuring up.  Instead, I felt good… I felt energized.  I felt strong – but not just in a physical way.  Was it a spiritual way?  I couldn’t tell, but it felt like I was stronger now than I was before.  I also noticed my quest log updated, and there was a note on my character sheet that seemed to indicate it had changed.  No shit, Sherlock… I just had a chat with two gods. 

 

                I got up from the floor, and sat on the bed.  I was overwhelmed.  I needed to either veg for a while, or do something to snap me out of my funk.  As I sat there thinking, my stomach rumbled loudly, and I decided lunch would be a good idea.  The change of scenery and talking to someone about something other than gods and vigilants would be good for me, too.  I headed downstairs to see what was on the menu for lunch.

 

                The tavern was a little busier when I came down – I realized I had no idea what time it was – and saw perhaps ten or twelve people eating lunch.  Like the odd spectacled man that was here a while ago, some were eating bread, pickles, and cheese – while several others looked like they were eating soup with slices of bread and butter.

 

                I sat down at a booth, and waited until one of the servers could see me.  A few moments later, Kaylee showed up at my table.  She had a pretty smile on her face, and she looked like she was having a fairly good day.  “Hello, Ser Fowler!  What can I get you today?”

 

                “Please, call me Jeff.”

 

                “Alright Geoff.  Are you in the mood for some lunch, or perhaps something to drink?”

 

                “Lunch, and a drink.  I’ll have the house special and a pint of that honeyed light ale.”  

 

                “Okay.  Where’s your friend, Rachel?”

 

                “Out buying clothes at the tailors.”  I smirked.  “She’s going to be a while.”

 

                “Well then, do yourself a favor and don’t forget to compliment her on her clothes – every woman wants to feel pretty, lad.”

 

                “Thanks for the advice, Kaylee.” 

 

                “No problem, Geoffrey.” She replied, winking.  “I’ll be back soon with your drink.”

 

 

 

                I watched her go – she was cute – and settled in to wait.  The last thing I needed right now was to get involved with another girl…  The stress I was getting from Alyssa and Rachel was more than enough, thank you very much.  I smiled and thanked her as she handed me the flagon, and I took a long pull.  The cool ale was sweet and nice – sort of like a Corona with more flavor, and a hint of honey.  I drank about a quarter of it, when my lunch arrived.  Kaylee presented me with a bowl of chicken stew in a kind of nutty brown bread bowl, with a side of cheese and pickles.  “Gideon said this was for you, lad.”

 

                “Thanks, Kaylee!”  I said.  “Could I get some salt and pepper?”

 

                “Aye, if you have the coin, lad.”  She said, a little surprised.

 

                “I do – and thank you.”

 

                “Well, then, I’ll be right back, Geoffrey.”

 

                I tried a nibble of the cheese – it was white and hard, like old cheddar and it tasted like that with a hint of carroway seeds.  The pickles were mostly dill, and a viciously strong dill at that – they bit back – and I rather liked the contrast between them and the flavor of the cheese.  Shortly, Kaylee returned with a small salt cellar and a pepper grinder, and I thanked her before she left to deal with other customers.

 

                The stew was thick, with lots of vegetables, but a little thin on the chicken – but the rich creamy gravy made up for it in flavor and richness.  Apparently, other patrons would tear pieces from their bowl and dip in into the stew, slowly reducing the bowl as the amount of stew fell as well.  I decided to follow suit, after seasoning the food to my taste – some salt, and a fair bit of pepper… I love ground pepper, but I’m not fond of chilies unless they’re mild. 

 

                The food was amazing – way better than any pub food I’d had back home, but then again it was all handmade, with nothing pre-packaged, frozen or anything artificial at all.  By the time I finished my stew, bread, pickles and cheese, I was absolutely stuffed.  I think it might have been one of the best lunches I’d ever had.

 

                “Kaylee, could you please let Gudrun know that was one of the best lunches I’ve ever had?”

 

                “Flattery will get you everywhere, lad…  But I’ll tell her.”

 

                “Thank you!”  I called – she was off again.  This place kept her hopping, that was sure.  The dining room looked a lot less busy – I guess most of the diners had returned to their jobs. 

 

I was one of the only ones remaining, along with a dangerous looking woman two tables away, feeding bread and cheese to what looked like a wolf.  I only glanced at her a moment, but I could see that under her hood (which was up, even in the inn), her face was covered in scar tissue from old burns.  I couldn’t hear all her whispers, but I thought she called the wolf ‘shadow.’  She looked like a hunter or a woodsman… if this was a videogame like back home, I’d have called her a ranger.  She had an axe at her belt, but it didn’t look like she was wearing much in the way of armor or weapons.  Maybe she’s relaxing?  Either way, I didn’t want to stare, so I turned back to my ale, and finished it off.

 

Kaylee returned with a quote for my lunch – and I left her the money plus a silver crescent as a tip.  Waving farewell, I headed towards the front door, intending to find Rachel and see how her clothing expedition went.  As I passed the hunter and her wolf, she called out to me, in a not so friendly voice. 

 

“Get a good enough look, lad?”

 

“I’m sorry?  I don’t understand.”  I replied.

 

“Did you see enough of my scars to suit you, lad?”  she said with a bit of snark in her voice, removing her hood.  I tried not to flinch, but some of the burn scars were pretty horrible.

 

“My apologies, Serra.  I didn’t mean to embarrass you.  I did look at you and your wolf companion, but I wasn’t trying to either stare at or mock you.  If I upset you, you have my apologies.”               

 

                “Huh… Maybe I judged you wrong, lad.  My name’s Helena Saskorin.  This is Shadow.”

 

                “Jeffrey Fowler.”  I said, holding out my hand to shake.

 

                Helena looked at my hand, and reached out to clasp my wrist, in an arm clasp greeting, rather than a handshake.  “Well met, Geoffrey.  I apologize.  I may have misjudged you.  There are many who see my disfigurement and make fun, and I confess I’ve grown quite a large chip on my shoulder as a result.”

 

                “Well met, Helena.  If I may ask, how did you come by such fierce wounds?”

 

                “Sit a moment, and I’ll tell the tale, though there isn’t much to tell.”  She waited until I sat – and as I did, I looked at her face now that it was uncovered.  One half of her face was burned hideously, and scarred – but the other half was rather attractive, although the combination of the two images was extremely off putting.  The scars and burns travelled down her neck to her shoulders and breasts, and down one arm.  From the severity of the wounds, she was probably lucky (if that was the word for it) to be alive.

 

                “I was out hunting, like I do in the winter – although this time I was hunting for bandits, and not game.  We had had word that a group of nasty bandits was pillaging the outer farms, and I had travelled with three other hunters and militiamen to deal with the threat – but I had gotten separated from them.  I came upon the bandits, raiding a farm and doing horrible things to the women and daughters inside.  Their men folk and sons were already dead on the snow, their throats slit, the snow bloody.  I killed three in the first volley, and then hid – and began to stalk them.  I killed three more before I was overpowered.” 

 

                “I won’t shock you with tales of what they did to me – this is a public place, and some nightmares need never be spoken of.  When they were done, they tied me to a chair, next to the youngest girl who had survived their ministrations – she was maybe thirteen years old – and they poured oil on us both, and on the cottage as well.  As they left, they dropped a torch.  There was a fire.  We were burned, and burned badly.  I survived; the girl did not.”

 

                Helena sighed, and took a pull of her ale.  “Shadow found me, and lead my team to where I lay, outside the burnt remnants of the cottage.  They brought me back to town, and nursed me to health, but Seoni’s magic was only strong enough to save my life, not strong enough to restore my appearance.  I’ve been told only a flesh-shaper can help me now, but I don’t know of any – they’re exceedingly rare, and extremely powerful.  I’d never have the amount of coin I would need to cure this…” She said motioning to her face and shoulders.  “… in a hundred years.  So I’ve lived with my scars, and the pain that comes with them, ever since.   A lot of people locally know the tale, and pity me – but those who pass through often gag at the sight of me, and mock or jeer at the sight of my face, as if I don’t possess feelings that can be hurt.  I thought you might have been one of those.  I’m glad I have found you are not.”

 

                “That’s a horrible tale, Helena!  Did the bandits ever get brought to justice?”

 

                “Aye.  Once the healers told my friends I was going to live, they gathered the militia and hunted them down to the last man, and hung them from the trees as a warning.  There were ten of them, and they received far more mercy than I did.  They got a quick death – and I got a living death.  I live and draw breath, but I will never have a family.  I will never know a lover’s touch.  I hold few as friends, because few can stand to be around my hideous visage.  If I could, I would see them all burn in hell a dozen times over for what they did to me, and then a thousand times more for what they did to that little girl and her mother.”  Helena’s face was red, and the burns were inflamed from her emotional speech, while her unburnt side trickled with several tears.  

 

                I was at a loss for words, so I did the only thing he could… I gathered Helena into a hug, and held her while she cried.  After a few moments, I released her, and drew back.  “If I could go back in time and stop them, I would.  If I can, through act or words can help you heal, I will.  If I can help ease your suffering, I will try.”

 

                “Thank you, Geoffrey, for your kind words.”  She replied, wiping tears from her unmarred cheek.  “…But I am afraid I am beyond help.  I thank you, though.  Now, you should go – I have kept you from your errand too long.  I will see you around, if you stay a while.  We will meet again.”

 

                Jeff nodded…  Helena obviously wanted her privacy, probably to compose herself.  Gods, how could anyone be so cruel as to do what she described?  I didn’t know how I would do it, but I resolved to try and help get Helena some form of healing that would let her live a happier life.  The people that could do wounds such as that – and do what they did to that poor family – showed how monstrous people could be here… But it wasn’t like people back home were any better.  Is this what the Twins meant, when they said the world desperately needs justice?  Is it crimes like this I need to be vigilant against, and stop if I can – and punish, when I cannot?

 

                I decided there were worse things than doing the right thing.  The violence and evil of their acts affronted me… it sickened me.  I felt anger and rage that these people could be abused in such a way.  And then I realized why they called me…  Because I was one of the few who would feel these things and act, instead of turning away… instead of thanking the gods it wasn’t me and pretending it didn’t happen.  

 

                I bid Helena farewell, and headed outside, filled with new purpose.  I knew what I was… what my path would be.  I didn’t know how I would do it – or if I would survive it – but I knew I had to try.  I headed towards ‘Threads’ to see if Rachel was done her tailoring session.

 

                When I got to Threads, the sun looked low in the sky - it was maybe close to four o clock.  How long had I been in my room?  Lunch had taken maybe an hour, and Helena’s story a half-hour.  Was I in some sort of trance?  I shrugged – it didn’t really matter.  I went inside, and the little bell dingled, announcing my presence. 

 

                “One moment please!  I’m with a customer!”

 

                “Take your time, Ser Eldermoon.  It’s just Jeff, Rachel’s friend.  I came to see how her outfit was going.”

 

                “Oh… In that case, feel free to come on in.”  Ruven called.

 

                I entered the main room of the shop, and saw Rachel standing as still as she could, while Ruven Eldermoon stitched various pattern pieces to a shaped dress she was wearing.  I wasn’t sure exactly how that would become a garment, but Ser Eldermoon seemed to know what he was doing.

 

                “How’s it going, Rachel?”

 

                “Um… Slowly.  I’ve got some shoes, and a pair of boots picked out – at least in style, but I don’t think he has my size.  I’ve got two or three outfits pieced together like this, but nothings sewn.  I’m just waiting to see how it all comes together.  Ser Eldermoon says I’ll have one full outfit by the end of today – and three by tomorrow.”

 

                “Indeed you shall, young lady.  We’re just about done.”  Ruven replied.

 

                “What were all those garments I need to wear called again?”  Rachel asked.

 

                “The linen undergarments are rather self explanatory, as is the hosiery for certain outfits. The foundational garment is a linen or silk chemise, which covers you from neck to ankle, and which is gathered at the wrists on the sleeves. On top of that is a kirtle, which is a form of bodice, often decorated with brocade, which often, but not always has an attached skirt, and an overdress which is decorated with colors, fancy trim and beadwork for the well-to-do lady.  The bodice provides support when it is needed, but allows for motion unlike a corset, and is decorated with scalloped picadils around the waist, for extra appeal.  The cloak is an overgarment to protect you from the weather, and to keep you warm when the weather is damp or chilly.”

 

                “Thanks… I’m still having trouble remembering them all.”  Rachel replied.  “What happens now?” 

 

                “Well, frankly, this is the best part – at least in my opinion!  Please, Serra Wilson, go into the back and change into the robe I provided you, then come back out, and you’ll see everything come together.  I will be using a rare form of magic to assemble your clothes from the pieces we have stitched and fitted – and it will become an outfit custom tailored to you as you watch.  It will also size the shoes and boots you selected, so that they fit your feet perfectly.  I assure you, I have done this many times before, and it will work as I say.”

 

                “That’s super cool!  I’ll be right back!”  Rachel rushed to the back room to change.

 

                “That’s really neat, Ser Eldermoon.  What magic word do you use for that?”  I asked.

 

                “It’s not Word Magic, or sorcery, Ser Fowler.”  Ruven explained.  “It’s a form of Anorian magic particular to the country of Iranor.  Their mages have access to some magical talents they call Style magic or Hospitality magic, which are considered quite rare and valuable outside their region.  Style magic can mend, alter and transform clothing, but it can also shatter and mend broken things, and a few other things besides.  I am still a young practitioner of Style magic, and have not learned all of its secrets as yet.”

 

                I nodded, rather impressed.  Before I could say any more, Rachel returned, dressed in a rather nice green robe.

 

                “I’m back!  What happens now?”

 

                “Now is when the magic happens.”  Ruven said, pulling a slender wand from his waistband, and tapping it.  As he concentrated, the wand started to quiver, and glow at the tip – and shimmering lights surrounded the pieces of clothing as they levitated up and about, swirling like autumn leaves caught in a wind…  They swirled together, while needles and thread danced in the air, sewing and stitching – and a few moments later, several completed garments slowly floated on an unseen wind gentle to the tabletop, where Ser Eldermoon waited.  In front of him was a white linen chemise, and green bodice with a skirt, both decorated with fancy stitching and beadwork, and edged with gold and lavender brocade, a light blue over dress with a stitched and beaded girdle of fancy design, and a cloak of forest green, with decorative stitching along the border.  The shoes and boots at his feet glimmered as if they were freshly polished, so much that the shoes shone. 

 

                “Wow!”  Rachel muttered quietly.

 

                “Wow is right!”  I answered.

 

                “Serra Wilson, your outfit for today is ready.  I will prepare the other outfits this evening, and have them ready for tomorrow morning, if you please.  I’ll fetch your nightgown as well.”  Another flick of his wand, and another garment – an old fashioned long white nightgown flew off a shelf, got itself stitched with some decorations, and folded itself into a neat pile in front of him.

 

                 “That was amazing, Ser Eldermoon!”  Rachel said. 

 

                “Thank you, Serra.  I studied under a master for two years, and have since developed my skills considerably.  I originally planned to return to Lytherane, to bring the secret of Style magic to my people, but I decided to settle here in Ghaelorn instead, where I set up shop.  So far, I am greatly enamored of rural living.  I find it very peaceful.”

 

                “May I try them on?”

 

                “Of course, Serra.  Please do.  What would you like done with the unusual clothes you arrived in?”

 

                “I don’t know.  I guess I’ll keep them for now, and find someone I can donate them to.”

 

                “No, that simply won’t do.  I will transform them into a suitable outfit for you.  Call it a gift.  The fabrics in them speak to me… I think I can make them into something unique.”

 

                “Um… Okay.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.  I’m going to go get changed.”  Rachel headed back to the back room, leaving Ruvin and I alone.

 

                Ser Eldermoon fetched himself a cup of tea, and sat to rest for a moment, setting his wand down on a table nearby.  After a few sips, he set his tea down, and motioned for Jeff to sit.

 

                “Just so you and Serra Wilson know, my services don’t come cheaply.  The clothes you get here are of the highest quality and make I can provide, and are far fancier than most homemade clothes, or even other tailor made clothes.  The magic used in crafting them tailors them to the person intended so that they fit perfectly.  I hope you and Serra Wilson will not balk too much when I give you my bill. Rachel will be dressed like a wealthy woman of means.  If you wish to fit in here as well, Ser Fowler, you might wish to pay me a visit as well.  Your clothes are acceptable, but they pronounce you an outsider.”

 

                “I’ll definitely consider stopping by, Ser Eldermoon.  If the clothing you fashion is this amazing, I’m sure I’ll be wanting some for myself.”

 

                “Excellent.  I look forward to it.”

 

                A few moments later, Rachel emerged from the back room – and wow! The difference was amazing!  She looked considerably more feminine in the medieval clothing, and the way it was stitched and cut gave the illusion of wider hips and bust – and the bodice seemed to give Rachel a hint of breasts… maybe more than a hint… What the hell?

 

                “Um, Rachel… Are you supposed to have… breasts?”  I asked.

 

                Rachel blushed.  “Did you do something to my outfit, Ruvin?” 

 

                “Aye, Serra.  Many Twin souled ladies ask for a bit of padding up front, until the Tea can bless them with endowments of their own.  I assumed you would want the same… I apologize if I was in error!”

 

                “No…no… this is great.  Thank you!”  Rachel replied.  “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

 

                “Ah, good.  If you wish to remove the extra assistance up front, there is a small sleeve where you can insert or remove the padding.”

 

                Rachel pulled her bodice out, and looked.  I tried to hold back a smirk at her unladylike behavior, but it was too funny.  “I see it.”  She said, and let her bodice back in.  “What?”

 

                “Think about what you just did.”  I laughed.

 

                Rachel did, and went beet red.  “Still not used to boobs.”

 

                Ser Eldermoon chuckled.  “Trust me, it’s not the first or the last time I expect to see a young lady do that in my shop.  Are you satisfied with the outfit?”

 

                “Yes, very!” 

 

                “Excellent.  Now we must talk price.”

 

                Rachel nodded, and came over to talk.  I just kept watching her – she looked very different dressed this way – much more feminine, and much less like her old male self.  The appearance of wider hips and an enhanced bust – even if it was padding – made the illusion even more effective.  It was easier to see the woman inside of Rachel now – unlike before I didn’t have to imagine. 

 

                “So three outfits suitable for everyday wear, of the finest manufacture, and one outfit suitable for rough travelling and high adventure.  Two sets of shoes, one of boots, and one of fine slippers.”  As he was saying all this, he was penning a receipt on his desk, and gave us the bill… thirty five gold knights!

 

                “Ummm… I can’t pay for this.”  Rachel said, shocked. 

 

                “Yes, you can, Rachel.  These clothes are freaking awesome, and you’re not leaving here without them.  Trust me.”  I said, reaching for my money pouch.  I took out seven really large gold coins – Gold Crowns – and handed them to Ser Elderwood.

 

                “Thank you, Ser, Serra, for your business, and for your company this afternoon.  I hope to see you soon.”

 

                “Jeff, are you sure?”  Rachel looked appalled, but I could tell she really wanted the clothes.

 

                “Yeah, I’m sure.”

 

                “Thank you.”

 

                “You’re my best friend.  You’re totally worth it, Rache.”

 

                Rachel smiled.  “Thank you.” 

 

And then, she came over, and gave me an unexpected hug.  I stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, and hugged her back.

“Hey, Rachel… You deserve to look pretty.  I think you’ll love the clothes.”  Her smile told me I’d said and done the right thing.

 

                “Ser Eldermoon, thank you for your skill.  I’ll be back tomorrow for the rest of the clothes.”

 

                “You are welcome, Serra – but please, don’t forget your bag of underthings and your nightgown.”

 

                “Thank you again.  Should we head back to the inn, Jeff?”

 

                “Yeah.  A lot has happened this afternoon.  I should probably tell you about it – either over dinner, or more likely, after dinner upstairs.  It’s not really for the common room of a tavern.”

 

                I held the door for her on the way out, and her face lit up with joy.  I smiled… It was nice making her happy, and it cost nothing.  Why wouldn’t I do it?  We headed to the inn.