My blood ran cold, and my pulse skipped a beat. Which somehow made the realization that I lacked a heart even more terrifying. I craned my neck to try to look through the crystal disk that Professor Church had inserted into my chest. Sure to her word, there was no organ there.

Instead, an iron spike sat in its place, covered in blood-rust and wrapped tightly in a chain of thorns. The blue lightning sparked up and down the skewer, in time with my pulse. Hundred of minuscule runes were etched into the metal, almost invisible under the rust. My now bisected arteries pumped in time with whatever phantom heartbeat was keeping me alive.

The professor grabbed my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “You’ll be okay, honey. We’ll figure this out, don’t you worry.” She extracted the crystal from my chest; it popped out with a suction sound. She handed me my shirt, which I quickly threw back on over my naked chest, with a sigh of relief that I hoped no one else heard. 

“Do you know what that spike thing is?” I asked the professor, panic beginning to edge through me. 

She shook her head; grave concern etched across her face. “I don’t think I do, dear. It may have taken the place of your heart, but I must admit I’ve never seen anything like this. You must come back to the university with me, so I can run a test or two.”

“Yeah, just let me text…” My hands shot to my pockets. Where was my phone? I quickly patted myself down, confirming the absence of the device. I must have left it back at my house. “I need to get home. My parents must be worried sick about me. I have to go right now.”  I bolted up and rushed toward the door, but the professor stood between me and the exit. I hadn’t even seen her move. 

“No.” She pushed me lightly back towards the couch. Her face hardened. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you leave, child. That artifact in your body must be studied. This is for your own safety.” The professor tried to maintain the softness in her voice, but there was a sting to it that I hadn’t heard before. She guided me back to my seat, and forced me to sit. Fern looked on with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. The professor placed her hand on my back, and I once again felt the tingling calmness drift through my body. The anxiety about my parents lazily drifted from my mind as the spell took hold. What did I really have to worry about? This couch was so comfortable. 

I heard Professor Church’s voice as though it came from a distance. “Tell me your story, dear. This will help us understand you…” Yeah, that makes sense. I guess I should tell her. I felt clouds descend on my mind as I began to speak. Unbeknownst to me at the time, a black feather slowly drifted to the ground outside the house. Perhaps the professor saw it because her eyes flicked to the window.

“I’m… Ol...iver Coyler.” Even in my dazed state the name sounded wrong. I felt the professor pat my back, comfortingly. A new wave of that nice magic drifted through me. “My parents are Bill and Melissa Coyler. They work as music teachers, dad in the high school and mom with the elementary school here. They adopted me when I was still a baby because both of them told me that they couldn’t have kids. Which is kinda sad, but they have me.” I felt a smile faintly play at my lips. “There’s this really nice lady called Miss Belina who’s basically my grandmother. She can make amazing pasta. You should try some.” 

My body twitched, and I felt another faint tug of power from where my heart should have been. 

“I’m honestly just a normal kid. I went to school, got good grades. Didn’t get into any fights.” It felt like my life played back to me in slow motion. Flashes of images. “I never really had… a lot of friends. I don’t know. They just weren’t into me. Which was fine, I’m always fine being alone. But I don’t know, it just… I don’t like being lonely. I always felt like there was just something wrong with me.”

The professor gave me a quizzical look. “Have you ever seen any… strange things before?” 

No, ma’am.” I shook my head. “Other than a fox that got trapped in our garage last december. It gave me a funny look before Dad shoo’d it out with a broom. But I guess that’s not that strange. This is Indiana. Probably got in because it was cold out.” The professor’s brow furrowed. 

That same tugging from my heartspike gripped my body again, and I jolted forward at the sensation. The odd tingling from the professor’s spell was ripped out of place and swept through my body, into the center of my being. My lungs heaved, and I coughed, choking on… nothing. The clouds in my mind instantly cleared, and I jumped from the couch with a wild look in my eyes. The professor looked at me, astonished, but she recovered quickly, and stood up carefully. I met her eyes. 

“What the fuck was that?” I felt my heart pounding my ears. My voice was definitely higher now. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a raven feather float down the chimney, quickly burning in the fire. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

The professor extended her hand towards me. “It’s alright dear, you’re just fine. I just wanted to hear more about you. Please, everything’s going to be fine.” She took a tentative step towards me. 

“Do not fucking touch me!” I screamed. With a sudden howl, a gale wind swept down the chimney, extinguishing the fire and buffeting me against the shelves. I whipped my head to the professor. “What did you do?” But she wasn’t looking at me any more. 

Instead, she was looking at a shower of black feathers that were pouring out of the fireplace. The whirlwind of feathers drifted into the room, and I saw both the professor’s and Fern’s eyes widen with fear. Fern looked ready to bolt, clutching the remains of her apple bread to her chest, but the vortex stood almost directly in front of her. Fern dared not move a muscle.

From within the feathers there was a crack like thunder, and a shockwave shot through the room, shaking the walls and nearly knocking me over. The wind from the chimney died off and the feathers slowly settled to the ground. The professor gasped in shock, because standing in the drifting feathers was a woman. 

The woman looked like a goth that tried a bit too hard, but the way she held herself told me that she was almost certainly the most powerful person in the room. Even I could feel magic pouring off her. Her black hair was cut short and spiky, almost looking like she’d taken a pair of safety scissors to it in a gas station bathroom. Raven feathers were tied into her hair, some standing upright in a pseudo crown. Spiked bracelets adorned her wrists, but I was more distracted by the tattoo sleeves on both of her arms. On her left arm was a night scene with dark birds flying in front of a pale forest. Her other arm was covered in an intricate series of symbols and runes that felt undecipherable to me.

I gasped when I looked into her eyes because there was nothing there. That’s not to say she had no eyes. There was nothing there, it was a void. I could fall into her eyes and see infinity. The woman flicked a smile at me.

Professor Church was shaking, I don’t know whether from fear or anger. She twisted her hands at the woman and screamed “You do not belong here. Leave this place, you Whore of Babylon.” Magic welled in her palms and shot forth at blinding speed. But before it could touch the woman, she glared at it. The magic froze in the air as her eyes caught it. The two bolts of lightning trembled in their suspension, fighting whatever was trapping them. The woman snarled and flipped her hand at the professor, who flew backwards into the couch and remained still. Fern looked on in awe-stricken terror. Her mouth moved wordlessly, and I could see she was fighting to not make any sound. 

The temperature in the room dropped, and I felt something shift in the air. Color began to drain out of the world, centered around this woman. As the color drained from the magic bolts held in the air, they stopped vibrating. It overtook the professor and Fern, and both seemed to freeze. It felt like reality froze around them. The color disappeared around me, and I felt an odd sensation wash over me as this magic enveloped me.

All ambient sound stopped. It’s an unsettling feeling to be in an environment where there is no sound. The faint ticking of a clock that I never realized I had heard was no longer present. The muffled sounds of birds and nature outside. The quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. All of it was gone. I was alone, trapped with this raven woman who stared me down from across the room. 

She smiled at me again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was the smile of a predator who has her prey in her claws and knows that she’s won the game. My breath quickened as she stepped forward, both in sheer terror but also because my dumbass brain realized that she was absolutely gorgeous. Well, gorgeous in a “I can snap your neck if you look at me funny” way. Please stop, brain. 

“I am so glad to finally be able to meet you, kid.” Her face dropped, and her voice picked up a dangerous edge. “I have been waiting so long for this.” 

She stepped towards me, crossing the room with what seemed like a single stride. Standing directly in front of me, I realized she was nearly a foot taller than me. I gulped, my skin crawling from the energy pouring out of her. A rough force pulled me off the ground, floating me in the air until I was eye level with her. My breath caught in my throat. 

She studied me up and down with an indecipherable expression. Her eyebrow raised when she looked at my chest. Under her breath, she whispered “Ah, so that’s how they did it.” She brought her gaze back to mine, and she smiled at me playfully. “My name’s Crow. I have claimed you. And together, we’re gonna go far, kid.” 

I was lowered to the ground, gently this time. With my feet planted firmly on the floor, she leaned over and kissed my forehead. Immediately, I felt something snap inside me. It didn’t hurt at all; it felt almost like stretching after laying down for an unexpected nap. A sense of comfort and relief radiated through my body, but not the oddly artificial feeling the professor had given me. I felt it within my core. 

“Also, kid. Quit fucking around with yourself, ok? We both know what you want.Try not to fight it... Now, I’m gonna put you to sleep because the changes you’re about to go through are going to feel like you put your guts in a blender on the ice crusher speed.” She tapped my head and I instantly felt a wave of exhaustion flood my senses. “You might wake up feeling like you just finished a bender in Malibu though.” 

With a flick of her fingers, Crow disappeared in a flurry of black feathers. I sagged to the floor and for the second time in a day, I fell into a magical slumber. 

~

“Happy Birthday, buddy!” Mom shouted, blowing one of those cheap party noisemakers. 

Dad smiled from across the table. “What’d you wish for, Olly?” 

Six year old me blew a raspberry at him. “I can’t tell you. The magic won’t work then!” I remember what I’d wished for. I’d wished for it every birthday until I turned twelve and realized it was never going to happen. Birthday wishes don’t come true.

My dad leaned forward and rubbed his chin with mock seriousness, “Tell me how, does this magic work? I've never heard of such a strange concept.” 

“Daaad!” The kid me cried. “Magic is how everything works! Duh. When I grow up, I’m gonna learn magic.” 

My mom ruffled my hair. “Alright, my little magician. Finish your cake, then magic your way into the bathtub.” We all laughed. 

The scene melted into graceful nothingness. Another took its place.

I looked like I was around eight years old. I was sitting between Mom and Dad on our couch, bawling my eyes out. My chest twisted at the memory. I thought I’d killed this memory. 

“It’s not fair!” the kid me screamed. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair.” 

My mom ruffled my hair again. It was a comforting touch, something that I’d come to rely on in moments of fear and anxiety. 

“Can you tell us about it?

“It’s not fair.” I repeated through sobs. “The girls are allowed to do it. Why can’t I? Nail polish is pretty. Why can’t I just be like them?” 

My parents shared a glance. One filled with worry, but also knowing. They had a conversation through their eyes and slight gestures with their heads. My dad opened his mouth like he was about to say something but thought better of it. For a few moments there was silence, save for my own weeping. My dad shook his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts.

“Oliver, do…” He pursed his lips. “Do you want to be a girl?”

I instantly stopped crying and my back stiffened. From my perspective now, I saw my pupils dilate as fear took over. A barely audible word dropped from the mouth of my younger version. “No.” It was the first lie. Not the first one I’d told, but The. First. Lie. The one that would infect me. The one that became the mantra that I would repeat to myself until it became my reality. That was why I killed this memory. 

My mom hugged me close, tears forming in her eyes. “Well, buddy. You know we love you. And…” She tried to find the right words, “And we’ll always love you. No matter who you are. Or what you do. Or where you go.” 

Again, the memory faded into nothingness, but this time I was left alone in a massive white void. It stretched for as far I could see. I collapsed and hugged my knees to my chest. “What do you want from me?” I don’t know who I was asking. Maybe myself. 

“I want you to be happy, buddy.” My mom’s voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. 

A new memory faded into view. I was sitting on the edge of my bed barely on the edge of puberty, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked empty. I took my shirt off and winced at the reflection. I sucked in my breath, and held it there. Then I tried to flex. My nascent masculinity. The younger me choked at the reflection and looked away, clenching and unclenching his hands. 

“No.” That me repeated. The lie. 

Someone knocked at my door. “Are you going to be ready soon, Olly?” It was my dad. “We need to leave for Miss Belina’s. She promised that she didn’t get you socks for Christmas this year.” I heard him laugh from the other side. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right out, dad.” I threw my shirt back on and re-tied one of my shoes before stepping through the door to meet my dad. “Hey. I have my first facial hair. Isn’t that great!” I pointed to a tiny, almost invisible speck on my cheek. 

My dad smiled, and I saw a hint of sadness hidden behind it. “That’s great, Oliver. That’s wonderful.” Neither of us believed it. 

My dreamscape shifted to a new nightmare. 

I felt my mouth dry as I saw what it was. The boys locker room in high school. This was the first day of gym class in my freshman year. I tried to subtly look around at the boys around me, as they got changed into their workout clothes. I had to study them, see how they acted, so I could do the same. I could already tell that I was dressed wrong. All the guys were wearing boxers under their clothes, and my own trunks felt wildly inappropriate and juvenile if I wanted to fit in. I filed a mental note to ask my dad to buy me some boxers. 

One of the larger boys caught sight of me, huddled in the corner. I’d been trying to quarantine myself from them, hoping they wouldn’t notice me. A fire filled his eyes, and a cruel grin spread across his face. “You checking out my ass, faggot? Do you need me to teach you what we do to fags like you around here?” 

I hastily shook my head and looked at my feet. He stalked over to me, and stood over me, letting his shadow fill my vision. “I’ll cut your dick off if you look at me like that again.” And he shoved me. I tripped on something left on the floor and stumbled over. My head slammed into a locker, smashing against one of the locks. The boy shook his head with disgust, before wandering back to his friends. 

I stayed in the locker room for the entirety of class, which earned a call to my parents. My parents asked me that night if I was being bullied. I said no. I didn’t cry that night. I was empty. As much as I wanted to cry, no tears appeared. 

My dream shifted once again. 

This time, I was sitting at my desk in my room. I had just bought a new laptop with the money I’d earned doing yard work for neighbors over the past two summers. I’d gotten hooked on some free MMO and had been slowly grinding my way through the lower level areas. This wasn’t a game that was designed for playing by yourself though, and I struggled to finish some of the more difficult quests. 

After days spent in this miserable area, I finally gave up when the area boss killed me thirty times in a row. Feeling frustrated, I admitted defeat and cowed to the game design. I searched through the game’s “Looking for Group” forum for anything that seemed like a good fit for me. I nearly gave this up too, before a single posting caught my eye. “LF 1 in Pailor Harbor, Help me and my daughters beat the boss”, posted by a user named GVTeal

I sent a response, not really expecting anyone to get back to me. The posting had already been up for a few days, after all. So I was surprised when I got a response back almost immediately. 

GVTeal turned out to be an older woman who’d been playing video games for longer than I’d been alive. Her “Daughters” were the people she played with. GVTeal called everyone she played with her daughter. And I was no exception when I started to play with them. I fell in love with hanging out with them online. Most of the more active players were women, and more often than not, I felt like I was infringing on their space by being there. But they liked me, and it always felt good when GVTeal loudly announced “Alright, my daughters, let’s do this!” before any big fight. I couldn’t tell you why, it just felt… good. 

My mom, at one point, overheard GVTeal’s battle call and asked me about it at dinner that night. My explanation was simple: It was just a silly joke, duh. That’s why it makes me feel good. It’s nice to have friends, even if they’re only online. 

My parents shared that look again. The one of knowing worry. As my mom passed me the casserole, she gave me an odd look. “Is there anything you want to tell us?” 

I looked at her, a bit confused. “No. Not really. Why?” 

She shook her head. “No reason.” She lightly kicked my shin. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you.” 

The world faded to black, and the last thing I saw was my mom smiling at me. 

~

I woke up to a motherly face looking over me with concern. For a moment, I thought it was my own mom. As the world came into focus, I realized it was only Professor Church. Fern milled around behind her, trying, and failing, to not look worried. The professor shuffles me up into a sitting position. 

“How… How are you feeling, dear? Are you okay?” 

I took a short mental checklist. I felt… fine. Better than fine. Great actually. My hair was longer now, I could feel it hanging on my back. The world felt a little bigger, and I felt sort of off-center. On a whim, I looked down and chuckled to myself. I guess birthday wishes could come true. I looked back to the professor. Instinctively, my mind began forming the words for the lie, but I stopped myself. “Yes, I’m fine. I think. Yeah, I feel... good” 

I looked away from her and ran my hands through my new hair. Tears prickle my eyes and threaten to spill out. 

I took a deep breath. “Also,” I glanced between them, “could you call me Jules from now on?”

Mayday

This is a shorter chapter, because I managed to write everything that I wanted to write in fewer words, while still feeling happy with what I wrote.

I want to call this the end of the prologue in my head, but 12k words is a bit much to call a prologue, so I'll call it Part 1 instead. We're gonna be getting into the actual world of magic with the next part. Probably a lot of exposition and explaining, so I apologize in advance. I'm hoping to have Chapter 4 out next week, but I'm out of town for most of this week, so I'm not sure how much writing time I'll have.

And once again, thank you for reading my story, and I hope you've enjoyed it so far. I value all comments and feedback.