The Distant Queen

by Terry Volkirch

This story is mainly about a romance between two young women who are from two different worlds. It's a fantasy story with some adventure but there are no mythical creatures and there isn't a lot of magic. It's really a sweet and tender romantic comedy with a mostly happy ending.

In chapter 5, the queen makes good progress learning to control her new magic ability. She also gives the reader a glimpse into her troubled past and finally deals with the royal healer, a man who can be a royal pain.

Chapter 5

The queen took her time, completely spelling out her plan to Muriel and the handmaidens, and they all had a good laugh over it. The royal healer was very good at his job but sometimes he could be an annoying know-it-all. Failing to cure the queen of her astral condition should be a humbling experience for him.

Gabrielle would let the healer examine her and help him come to the intended conclusion -- that she had a magic illness of incorporeity. She wanted him to think that parts of her were fading out and back in. It would help cover for the real problem and explain why they were hesitant to let him see her. Her condition was serious enough that it threatened the security of the queendom. The fewer that knew about it, the better.

The only problem was that she needed to be able to solidify at least part of her astral body, something she hadn't practiced nearly enough. The healer was well-read in magic lore and might guess she was in astral form if she was completely incorporeal. It wasn't likely he'd tell anyone but it would rob the arrogant man of a chance to improve his character, not to mention ruin their fun. They needed some fun after all the stress they'd endured lately.

Eventually, the giggling subsided and talk turned to a more serious nature. Gabrielle hadn't had much practice solidifying her astral body. Her only success was blowing out a candle. She had to solidify her lungs, throat and mouth for that. While Beth and Heloise distracted the healer and Muriel went to collect some books she'd found after combing the royal library, the queen threw herself into practicing.

"Start with a fingertip," Muriel told her before leaving. "And work your way up to your whole hand. Remember to concentrate on transferring more energy to your astral form."

Gabrielle wanted to ask where she was supposed to get the energy but the old mystic turned her back too quickly. She'd never thought about where she was getting energy before. It might help if she knew the source.

Muriel quickly returned with two large books and set them on a reading table and the frustrated queen immediately spelled out "energy source?" No progress had been made other than briefly pushing a sheet of paper across the table with a fingertip.

"Oh yeah. I haven't told you what I've learned so far."

The queen shook her head.

"Let's start with the silver cord."

The mystic went into lecture mode, something the queen usually dreaded, but the subject was too important so Gabrielle listened with rapt attention.

Apparently, there was a silver cord that attached the astral body to the physical body. The energy that the queen needed was in her physical body, and she had to transfer that energy through the silver cord to her astral body.

Muriel started looking for the cord and got a little puzzled when she couldn't immediately find it. According to the books, it could be attached anywhere but usually connected either to the navel or somewhere around the head. Finally, in exasperation, she looked up to ask Mother Moon for strength and saw its shiny reflection in the dim candle light. It looked like a thin strand of spider silk, rising vertically from the top of Gabrielle's astral head. With it being so thin, it would naturally be very difficult to spot.

Seeing the direction in which the cord was stretched made Muriel stare for several moments before slumping down in her chair and losing herself deep in thought. She suddenly found herself having an epiphany.

Throughout its recorded history, the world of Kispri had never considered other worlds hanging over them in the sky. When Gabrielle talked of an alien land, everyone really only thought of it as another place somewhere on Kispri. The different sun and moons could always be explained away by magic and ignorance.

It just dawned on the old mystic that the cord was stretching to a completely new world, high in the sky. All of those little lights they called stars were actually other sister suns, each with their own worlds. The universe was full of life, or to put it another way, they weren't alone.

A single tear rolled down the old woman's cheek and settled on the broad smile she wore. It confused and concerned Gabrielle to no end but she patiently waited for her friend to tell her what was going on.

* * *

It took a good amount of time to recover from Muriel's amazing revelation, but they didn't have time for theorizing. They had a healer to take care of.

Gabrielle resumed her practice and made good progress using her new knowledge. She soon solidified her whole body and wasted no time hugging her friend to show what she could do. It should've been cause for celebration but the old mystic was often hard to please.

Muriel cleared her throat and had to bring up the subject of clothing. So far, every one of Gabrielle's visits had her wearing her battle leathers. It's what she wore on the other world so it was easiest to leave it be for astral travel, but it wouldn't be appropriate for a healer's visit.

The books on astral projection mentioned that it was possible to change clothing and even appearance so that's what the old woman requested.

For the good of the queen's modesty, it was lucky no one was around except for her mystic. The most likely alternative to her physical body's outfit was not wearing the outfit, and without a mirror to show her au naturale, the queen stood in ignorant bliss for far too long.

"Well?" Gabrielle mouthed.

Muriel slapped a hand on her forehead.

"You're not wearing anything, my Queen. Please keep trying."

The mystic was surprised to learn that astral bodies blush, and her surprise doubled when she saw her friend suddenly wearing a simple but beautiful gown. It wasn't often the queen wore anything so feminine. The surprise quickly turned to sadness though when Muriel recognized the gown. It was what Gabrielle's mother wore in the portrait behind her, the same portrait that the queen stared at with teary eyes.

"You still miss her very much, don't you."

Gabrielle nodded and turned away to hide the pain on her face, her gown swirling about her and then morphing into a comfortable looking nightgown.

She'd lost her parents to two thieves when she was only 5 cycles old. That's when she'd discovered her talent. The two men that killed her parents were the first to be changed into women, and the first to commit suicide because of it. That was a very sad time, and almost too much to bear for a little girl.

Luckily, she was found and taken in by a neighboring farmer, but good luck turned to bad before things got better. Little Gabrielle lived in fear for over a cycle. She was scared of the farmer -- scared of all men after seeing two men murder her parents -- and early one evening, just before her seventh cycle, the man drank too much cider and began cursing at her, calling her a stupid and silly little girl. It scared her so much that it triggered her power, changing him into a woman.

The farmer and his wife didn't understand what had happened on the day that Gabrielle's parents were killed. They didn't know the thieves had been magically turned into women so they didn't know about the girl's talent. It caught the farmer's wife completely by surprise as she watched it happen, shocking her speechless for a record length of time until she recovered and shrieked with outrage.

As soon as the farmer's wife shrieked, Gabrielle bolted for the door and ran away. She ran to the stream at the edge of the farm and waded through it. She continued on the trail that led through the woods to a nearby town and didn't stop until she was exhausted. Even then, she walked through the streets of the town in a daze, her shoes squishing with water and mud.

The sad and frightened little girl left a trail of changed men that spanned the countryside. Women would sympathize and care for Gabrielle until the men in their lives were suddenly changed into women, forcing the girl to run away yet again. It wasn't until she reached a small village at the outskirts of the queendom of Prizzaria that she found a home.

By the time she reached the village of Skart, rumors of her magic talent had finally preceded her. A few enterprising but kindly older women discovered her and realized that a very rare magic talent like hers could be very valuable given the right training. They vowed to care for the girl until she could take care of herself in all respects.

The girl's new guardians educated her and even trained her for combat. One of the women who cared for the girl had a magic talent that came in handy too. Ordinarily, Helga wouldn't use her talent on small girls but for Gabrielle she made an exception. Helga helped the young girl to grow much taller and stronger than normal, and succeeded far beyond wildest expectations. By her eighteenth cycle, the girl had grown taller and stronger than any of the men in the village.

It might have seemed excessive but Helga felt it was crucial to give the initially small girl the potential to be a formidable warrior so she could protect herself. The other women in the group disapproved but kept quiet when they saw that the girl at least kept her feminine curves. In the end, they had to agree with Helga. The warrior woman's build suited her, giving her both grace and beauty as well as strength.

The only mistake the women made was to keep Gabrielle well away from men. They thought it best to hide her away to make sure her talent wasn't triggered, and that was unfortunate. The girl wasn't able to see that many men had a good side so she carried her distrust of men with her to adulthood. Her attitude led to many more gender changes than were warranted. Most men would call that a bad thing but of course it only endeared her to the majority of the population in the woman-centric queendom.

The future queen's magic talent eventually became common knowledge but by then, she could easily protect herself with her battle skill as well as her magic. With her sword and her ability to change men into women, the queendom became a much safer place for women and her place as queen was assured.

The queen tried to return from her musing with a single astral tear that she wiped from her cheek. Then she turned to take another look at her mother's portrait and sighed. Her past was so full of wrong turns.

She'd commissioned the portrait from a middle-aged man with a wonderful magic talent. He could paint scenes and portraits from another person's memory, and no matter how old and faint the memory, the painting would perfectly capture it. The portrait did turn out beautifully too, but then disaster struck. The memory of it shamed her and yet she still forced herself to relive it now and then.

The man had gotten greedy and doubled the price for the painting when he saw how much Gabrielle liked it. In her anger, she changed the man into a woman, forever erasing his unique talent and sending him to the insane asylum. She mourned the loss of his talent and the loss of his sanity more than she appreciated his last great work of art. Some things just weren't worth the cost.

She had to compose herself yet again before she showed Muriel that she was ready for the healer. She gave her friend a nod and climbed onto her bed, lying on her back on top of the covers to make things simpler. It was time to begin the charade.

* * *

Bartholomew the healer really was an arrogant bastard. His magic talent was top notch and he saved countless lives, but he offended even more than he saved, and he couldn't care less.

It didn't help that the man was secure in his position. Healers were extremely rare, and since the queen's magic talent changed the talent of her victims as well as their gender, he knew she wouldn't dare change him. Sometimes that knowledge made him insufferable as he took full advantage of it.

The arrogant man arrived in the sitting room and fended off Muriel right away.

"I know where the queen's bedchamber is," he huffed and opened the bedroom door without knocking.

The two handmaidens stifled a giggle and quickly followed the healer with the old mystic slowly bringing up the rear.

Keeping to the plan, Gabrielle kept her eyes closed and waited for subtle directions from Muriel. It was a good thing she was in astral form or she'd have given everything away by sweating and breathing heavily from nerves.

"Well, she looks okay," Bartholomew said. "Her color is good. I don't see what the problem is."

"We didn't want this known for fear of the queen's enemies finding out ...," Muriel began and then paused for effect. "She's got a strange magical condition."

"Oh?" the healer said, raising his right eyebrow. "Do tell."

"First, I want to tell you that your potions have helped her a great deal."

"Of course," he sniffed.

"But parts of her still fade in and out. It's the strangest thing, but other than that, she's fine."

"Curious," he said as he moved towards her right side.

Bartholomew sat on the bed and reached for her wrist. It was solid but he noted to himself that it felt cold. Then he did something the others didn't expect. He checked for her heart rate.

With a gasp, he erupted from the bed and shot from the room in fright.

"She doesn't have a pulse!" he blurted out as he left.

"Oh dear," muttered the mystic. "We didn't think of that, did we."

She turned to Gabrielle and quickly told her to try simulating a pulse in her wrist while she collected the healer.

Out in the hall, Bartholomew leaned back against the closed double entry doors, pale and trembling. He'd already been shorting himself on sleep trying to concoct numerous potions for the queen so he didn't look well himself when he first arrived, but somehow he managed to look worse.

"Please," Muriel soothed and bluffed at the same time. "She's not dead. Come back in and we'll prove it to you. It's probably just the magic interfering. If you try again and press harder, you'll probably be able to feel a pulse."

"Are you sure?" the healer said, feeling somewhat uncertain for the first time since his youth.

"Positive," she lied as she took his arm and led him back to the patient.

Muriel looked over to Beth for some positive sign and got a sly wink. She let out the breath she was holding and encouraged Bartholomew to examine the queen.

He held her wrist a moment and frowned, but he didn't run. The plan was back in action.

"Her pulse is a little weak and slow but it's there," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "Good."

"Now check her left arm," Muriel directed. "But be prepared for a shock. It fades out quite frequently."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean about fading out," he said. "But I guess I'll find out, won't I."

He switched sides and reached out for Gabrielle's left wrist only to find that his hand passed through and grasped the bedcovers instead. That got him to gasp for the second time since he arrived. He wanted to run again but luckily his professional pride prevented him from doing so.

"Unbelievable," he mumbled. "I don't understand this at all."

Gabrielle loved every minute. She made her left arm fade out and fought to keep from smiling at the poor man's discomfort. As soon as he left to go back to his laboratory to work on more potions, the plan would be complete, but she couldn't resist improvising one last part.

The mischievous queen opened her eyes, sat up and tried to speak. She'd been working on her vocal cords, hoping to at least whisper but instead all she managed was something that sounded more like a raspy cough than anything else. She quickly changed tack and instead pantomimed using a writing quill and paper.

Beth knew what was being asked for and brought the requested items to the queen's bedside. When the queen was finished, the handmaiden handed it to Muriel who read it aloud.

It was a prescription for a very strong sleeping potion. Bartholomew was to mix one up as soon as possible.

That made sense to the healer and he nodded approval. He thought it prudent for the queen to get as much rest as possible. It was only the last part that disturbed him.

Muriel gave directions for the healer to then drink the potion himself as soon as he'd finished mixing it. The queen believed him to be under too great a strain and ordered him to sleep to make up for all of his hard work.

"Let me see that!" Bartholomew shouted, but his face fell when he saw it was true.

"Your Majesty, please ...," he began.

Gabrielle waved him off and feigned fatigue. She laid back down and closed her eyes, pretending to fall asleep.

The healer's shoulders sagged and he turned to leave. He was defeated, though he had no intention of actually carrying out the queen's orders. It was only when Muriel asked the two faithful handmaidens to follow him that he truly gave in. He sighed and led the two young women back to his laboratory to begin preparations for a long rest.

Once he left the room and was well beyond the hall beyond, Muriel closed the doors to the bedchambers and let out a cackling laugh that shook the thick lead glass of the bedroom window. It was too bad Gabrielle couldn't stay longer to join in the coming celebration. She felt herself being drawn back to her body. It was time to wake up once again on the alien world.