Darn muses and their insistance on writing.. now if only they could keep their musing on one story at a time.. sigh

"It is a time of great magic.."

"Oh bollocks" Said the raven haired beauty standing in a gown of shimmering satin silk and lace. From the tight royal blue bodice to the exquisite flaring of the full lavender skirt to the tips of the dainty toes the girl radiated a beauty that put shame to any other in the home. She stood there patiently trying to not move as best she could while her mother and sister quickly worked at pinning and sewing the gown together.

The home was a modest home boasting a parlor living room, two bedrooms, and a bathing room. The kitchen shared space with the living room as the fireplace that spread the warmth of the house was also used for the cooking and baking.

"Be fair to your sister Emmett James Macallister, she is working on her phrose for the mid summers fair ball." Stated Mrs Diane Macallister through a mouthful of pins.

"Aye tis the thing for a wee maiden like thyself for.. oh bollocks now you made me miss a stitch!"

Emmett's sister of 14 years had taken to speaking with a weird accent after overhearing some seaman passing through town a few weeks back. It was mostly annoying since he couldnt understand her half the time anyways.

"Are we almost done?" Queried the beauty in the gown.

"Most girls your age would be excited to be in finery such as this. You should enjoy the experience although from the look of yon candle I would say the spell is almost done. Perhaps it is best we remove you from the gown before you split it."

"Please Mama someone might see me like this"

"Very well..."She did not get to complete that sentence. As , of course in situations such as these, a loud knock on the door occured.

"Mrs. Macallister! PleasecomequickFatherhasfallenandhemightbehurtbadly." Came the braking voice of an overanxious young teen boy from the door.

"Mama dont"Started Emmett. But she of course ignored him and walked quickly to the door and unlatched it to reveal a disheveled boy of maybe 12 with pieces of grass and dirt on his tunic and leggings with hair quite sticking up in spots. It was obvious that in his haste to get here he had tripped and fallen numerous times. John McGines was a boy just entering manhood and had oversized feet and skinny legs that he was not quite used to in this growth spurt. Although the two boys had played together often near the river trying to fish, usually without success many an afternoon, this was one of those times Emmett prayed he would just leave.

"Maam Da was plowing the field with the oxen when the when the wood of the axle broke and the blade has gouged his leg a badly and..." The boys eyes widened when he caught sight of Emmett in the gown. "an.. a.. "

John suddenly seemed unable to speak. There was a part of him that insisted there was something very important to be said but for the life of him he couldn't think of any reason what would be more important than finding out the name of this this uh, she is way more than a girl, a goddess maybe, an angel?

"John take me to your father."Said Diane as she grabbed her herb bag.

John turned with a blank stare at Mrs. Macallister " My da?" he asked.

"Your father who you said is hurt and bleeding"

"Oh right yeah he is bleeding and hurt.." still not quite with it.

"Well come along we must make haste. Sally be a dear and help Em..lizabeth out of that gown please. This may take some time."

Sally paused her stiching and turned to her mother with a puzzled look on her face, accidentally also shoving the sewing needle into poor Emmett at the same time."Elizabeth? Oh! yes of course."

Even though said needle was actually causing a fair bit of pain to Emmeth it would take a few minutes for the pain to reach his brain which was busy trying to explain just how many ways to disappear into the ground at that moment.

Sally quickly stood up holding her house dress up and skipped to the door to latch it then returned and removed the needle from Emmeth.

"OUCH"

"Oh pshaw Elizabeth"Giggle"It is just a tiny prick"Smiled his older sister.

"Sally!" Whined the girl with a pout that just made her all the more beautiful.

"Relax brother mine, I was just enjoying having a younger sister to tease."Giggled Sally Anne Macallister."Come lets get you out of my fair dress before mothers tallow runs out."

Emmett obediently turned exposing the buttoned back of the gown to his sister to be undone. Sally deftly unbuttoned the back of the gown and let it fall carefully to the ground around the stool Emmett was on exposing the girls knickers and girdle holding her amble bossom.

Emmett quickly kicked off the shoes and somewhat ran to the candle burning on the mantle to seemingly stick his hand into the wax and flame all at once.
Suddenly the girls knickers flowed like made of wax into course brown leggings. The white girdle also flowed into a young boys slightly stained tunic while the wavy long raven tresses seemed to spring upwards to a straight plain short brown hair characteristic of many of the boys in the small town. While this was occurring the girls body flowed becoming flat in the chest and hips and thicker in the stomach. Emmett was back to his old self. At that moment the candle gave a final puff of smoke and curled into itself and then with a small pop disappeared leaving only a few tiny black ash to prove that it even existed at all.

Sally walked up to her brother and gave him a tight hug.

"Thank you so much i know that was tough for you."

"It was nothing. Im just glad its over and that John didn't twig that it was me."

Giggle"Maybe but even I didn't know that a simple transform spell would turn you into such a beauty. Oh my! I think you stunned that poor boy. Im jealous."

"Don't be. Id rather forget it ever happened. Im going to go and cut some wood for the fireplace."

"Yes yes go establish your manhood thingy." With that sally turned and picked up the dress to continue her stitching. She didn't see the tears in Emmetts eyes as he walked out the back door.

Retrieving his axe from the back stump Emmett started in on the dead fall him and the boys had collected the other day. He worked patiently until dusk chopping and piling as much of the smaller branches into useable firewood that would fit the fireplace in the house. Being only 13 years of age he was not yet big enough to use fathers miraculous saw on the bigger pieces.
Still he managed to work up quite a sweat which somehow brought him a peace.

*I still cant believe I almost cried just because of a stupid tiny pin* He thought as he gathered an armload of wood for the night. Returning to the parlor he unloaded the wood into the basket on the side of mantel pointedly ignoring his sister with the hated gown draped across her knees.

Emmett knew that if his Mama came home and smelt him he would be given a talking so he took the sponge and gave himself a small bath with some of his mama secret soap. The soap was one of the few things that Mama sold alot of. IT didn't burn like some of the other ladies soaps nor smell funny actually it smelled fairly pleasant however it did taste foul as Emmett had tasted more than a few times. His mother had this thing about bad language, which unfortunately, his father supported as well since he had gotten the soup mouth punishment from both of them.

While he washed all over himself he wonder why his Mama had left her apprenticeship to live with his woodsman father. If he was in her place learning all of the goddess magic he would have stayed to become a full fledged enchantress or enchanter if such a thing existed. His father Everett Macallister was a fine woodsman who was quite proficient in the new squared timber house making ,such as the one they lived in, and therefore in much demand often spending months away from home to finish the housing the baron/lord/prince/king/other noble had deemed need be done. He was excited as in his 15th year,2 years and 3 months from current, his father had promised to apprentice him in the art of woodsman.

He had of course heard the stories of other countries that apprenticed children even younger than himself. But then they also did not benefit from the goddesses healings which might have something to do with it. To him this was stupid, God taught man many things but it was the Goddess that used nature to heal with love. The Gods priests and the Goddess priestesses co existed in a harmony in his homeland. He just did not understand why someone would break that harmony for only one part of the whole that the traveling minstrels told many a land did. Oh to be a minstrel traveling abroad singing and storytelling for meals and lodging. Not a care in his world letting the wind take him wherever. But such was not the life for him. He doubted he, nor any of his family really, would ever leave this small village.

Dressing in one of his clean tunics he returned to the kitchen of the parlor to start the supper, which for him meant the chore of peeling the mornings potatos, carrots, and cobs of corn. Careful to leave the corn hair and clean leaves in a pile for his sister and her doll making he put the rest of the trimmings into the slop pail for the 2 boars they kept. He missed his father at times like these, although not a terrible hunter himself, his father always got better game than the rabbit he had caught earlier. Still his mother had done her usual best with it as he removed it from the pail of spices and seasonings in which it had sat for the last couple of hours. Using the clean clay his mother had prepared earlier, he wrapped the rabbit and potatoes in a clay shell like his mother had taught both him and his sister over the years. He also put the corn carrots and other vegetables into another pot. When his sister was finished with her stitching she could put them to cook, Or if their mother returned she would do it.

He guessed it was some sort of female instinct that told them how to bank the fire just so for cooking. Every time he had tried over the years it always turned out overcooked on one side and undercooked on the other. Or the water boiled over dousing the fire and sometimes filling the house with smoke. The mysterious art of baking however was beyond him. His mother and sister would somehow turn various powders and fruits and nuts they had picked into wondrous pies or breads. He was not totally untrained as he could recognize poison berries or shrooms, learned to avoid much of the forests itchy needle, or thorny plants. But telling you which plant root nut or whatever did this or that in some strange combination. Enchantresses did that. Some even sold some of these powders and stuff to the high mages the king used.

Stopping his daydreaming he took the slop pail out the to pigs trough, checked the chickens no eggs, the cow was still munching away and didnt look like it needed another milking. This left him with time to work on his skins in the small shed him and his father, ok mostly his father, had built years ago for working on the skins of animals. In here was the smooth leathers and furs from some of the animals they had caught over the years. Not enough of any one yet to make anything large but they had traded some leather a few years ago to cobbler for new shoes, including those girly shoes he wore earlier YUCK, His winter solstice boots where another of those but were lined with some of the fur from a bear that had wandered into the storehouse of the baker some years ago.

lighting some tinder he lit some or the stubs that he put in half old pot to light his little shop. He enjoyed spending time scrapping each piece as it tanned or pinning them to the tanning frames. sometimes he would mix some of the dyes his mother had made and paint pictures on the thinner hides that were not useful for anything else. Indeed the walls of his shack were covered with odd sized and shaped skins with paintings of whatever had entered his head at the time. The oldest were obviously childish in look and nature. The newest were almost recognizable as what they were supposed to be. Some had over the years been used by his father for hinges or windows when treated with skunk oil.

He had seen once the incredible glass windows of the lords manor. He was told by Lord Lawrence the youngest that they were made from sand. he had scoffed in his face at this jest that was so absurd. Lars , his nickname for Lawrence, had told many a jest over the years of their friendship. Lars was of noble blood but for the most part didn't act that way with anyone of his many friends. Lars was young man coming into his own at 14 ,the same ages as his sister. Blonde hair and blue eyes, many of the girls in town were enamored of him already.