What is it you really want, a Soulmate or just a Perfect Warrior?

                Chapter the Second

Where our heroine plays with herself and her new boytoy a bit

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                “AAAAHH!”  What the hell is going on! Right, get a hold of yourself Alice, there’s some sane explanation for this... maybe. Need time to think, get off this altar first. The altar is to one end of the ‘church’ so I roll off to the side away from the door, and all those old guys... mages? Next check my body out, see what has changed, start at the top: Hair; same length, same colour, feels finer... or cleaner. Face; brow feels smaller, nose too, no beard... um yay, mental happy dance. Arms; finer, no hair there either, hands seem smaller, nails still done pretty, chips and smeg gone.

Chest... well I’ve got one, that’s first... is it bad form to grope myself in front of a prince? Tie-dye tank looks like it’s shrunk, nicely fitted, belly on show, denim vest hasn’t, feels like everything is still in the pockets. Belly; even more no-hair, no chubby gut, piercing doesn’t look stupid anymore. Legs; still got them, that’s always good, combats are way more fitted, like seam up my arse cleave fitted, purples look okay, the white’s gone tan though, belt hasn’t shrunk... meh its a paracord braid, pull it in a knot for now, can fix that later, no bulge... doesn’t feel like I’m tucked... no bulge... more yay, something else to play with in private. Feet; smaller, boots fitting better, feels like the wear inside is gone, treads look new, they’re clean and... yep tools are still in them.

Okay, clothes and hair suggest I’m still me...ish... now, mirror out of jacket, deep breath, and... wow... face is still me, only pretty... like proper pretty, it’s still my face, just... nicer... I’m pretty...

“Milady, are you alright?” Oh great, please don’t cry, not in front of the hot boy.

“Better than ‘alright’. Just what exactly did you and your pet spellslingers do to me?” Are they goodies or baddies... woah where did that HUD come from... okay, its highlighting him green and all the crap around us in white. Quick look... all the mage guys are green too... hope that that does mean they’re goodies.

“We were trying to summon a great warrior to aid us with a prophesy, that is to say a specific warrior...”

 “You fucking Narnia’d me? Seriously?” huh, when I focus on him there’s a name label; Prince Iason.

“I sorry, I don’t know what that word means.” He looks cute when he’s confused.

“Oh, right, on my world magically kidnapping children and teens for prophetic reasons to fight off ultimate evils is a bit of a played out story trope. So I sort of get what you’ve done too me Iason, but I’m still a little fuzzy on why you’ve done it to me.”

“How do you know my name?” yep, I’m going to have so much fun with this cutie, and that set up is just too good.

“Magic!” Okay, the jazz hands are probably a little too much. “And don’t avoid the question, if you’re expecting me to be able to help, it might help me to know what the smeg is going on.”

“Umm well it’s actually a little embarrassing. See, when I was born there was a seer there, a well respected and reliable seer, and she came out with a prophesy that...” The church doors burst open and a fairly dirty looking warrior and a fairly stereotypical looking (chocolate) elf ranger run in and slam them closed again.

“Your Highness, we need to retreat, there’s two full companies of Black Knights in the next valley, heading this way. Did you cast the spell? Did it work?”

“Yes sergeant, and I think... hope so.” Oh wow, never had a guy look at me like that...

The fanciest looking mage speaks up, “Your Highness, you need to take the girl and the things that arrived with her, and take the tunnel out of here, we will hold them here and prevent them from following you.” He turns to the youngest, and most delicate, looking one of his peons, “Go with them, they will need you on their quest.”

Wait, are five old geezers really going to try and fight two hundred(ish?) knights... shit, and it looks like everyone is agreeing with it... just what kind of fucked up situation am I in... best stand up and make myself known... and useful, “um, how can I help?” And, from the looks on the new lot’s faces, I am really not what they were expecting.

“If you feel up to it, take some of those bags down to the cellar, we’ll join you as soon as we’ve packed up the rest of our effects.” Okay, so he’s not just a pretty face, it looks like commanding comes naturally to him. The bags aren’t too bad, more bulky than heavy, but it’s easy to carry four of them down the stairs at once. I think I still have all my old strength, I don’t feel weaker... that’s going to be a fun surprise for the first cockwomble to try giving me shit.

The cellar looks just like the ones in every fantasy adventure ever, so there’s either a secret wall, or we’re going down that culvert in the corner. Quick look... and yep, large shaft down to what looks like an underground stream... and cool, looks like this HUD thingie has light enhancement features. “Well, looks like you’ve already found the way out, good.” It’s the sergeant... ‘Häming’ according to my HUD, and he’s got a basket and rope. “Let’s be quick about this, I’d really rather not be anywhere near here when they find this.”

“Okay Häming, you belay me and I’ll go down first, just divn’t drop bags on my head once I’m down, yeah?” no hesitation from him... just how important am I right now? And no reaction to knowing his name either, must have been warned about that trick already, damn.

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                I was right about the stream, but it looks like this chamber has been used for this a lot, loads of carved shelves on the walls and barrels of ‘preserved’ food. The mage panicked the whole way down in the basket, and seemed put out when I said, “you’d best get that under control Markys, I suspect we’re ganna have to deal with much more scary smeg than a bleeding basket.”

                It doesn’t take long to get the others and the bags down, the Elf, Aerilaya, (who’s gender I totally cannot work out) dropping down without using the rope and landing as if they just stepped off a curb, and Iason and Häming belaying each other down.

                “I fear I have been remiss milady, you seem to know all of our names somehow, but we have not asked of yours. Would you do me the honour of knowing your name?” Why is he so smegging cute, it’s totally not fair.

                “It’s Alice, Alice Olo. Friends call me Allie”

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