I’m a trainee witch from a rural town where even the slightest deviance is frowned upon. There, witches are expected to follow a strict way of acting, and even being. And it is expected that a witch is to act as basically a medicinal servant for the village. She is to gather weeds and prepare potions to help deal with stomach aches and other ailments. Witches are to never wed. to never fall in love. To never have sex.

It’s patriarchal bullshit! Moreover, as I’m transgender, I don’t fit into their narrow view of what makes a witch! You have to be born female, and born to a wealthy non-witch family. I’m poor, and haven’t had the, quote, appropriate education. Only upper class villagers get an education in my hometown. Poor folk are expected to do hard labor such as farm work or hunting.

For that reason, I’ve decided to leave my hometown and travel to the capital city, where everything is better! The people are nicer, and nobody cares if you’re trans or poor or whatever! I arrive on foot after a month of travel. Most people fly on their brooms, but I’m not experienced enough for that. I can barely fly. Others take the train, but I’m too poor for that. The travel is rough, and I have to forage and hunt for food as I’m simply incapable of brining one month worth of food along with me. But, with blistered feet, I finally arrive at the capital!

I’m not sure what I expect to find, but there are no guards at the tall gates that lead into the city. Some folks even fly above the walls around the city, making me wonder what, exactly, is the purpose of having walls. I walk through the gate, eying everything with awe. Something shiny on the gate catches my eye, and I stare at some kind of glass orb situated within the gate: a scrying orb. They’re watching everyone who walks into the city. I’m sure there are also methods to keep eyes on anyone who flies in, too.

The capital city is the biggest city in the land of Faetrick, boasting hundreds of thousands of permanent residents, along with countless visitors year round. It has anything a witch – or a nonwitch, for that matter – could ever need! Any kind of shop you can imagine, it’s here! A perfumer? Of course! An ogre sweater salesman? Why, there’s one here in the square hawking his wares! A shrink-reversal-specialist? There’s quite a line outside of their shop! A very tiny line, admittedly, but a rather long one.

The streets are busting, as is the sky. Tourists and citizens alike fly in the air with brooms, visiting second or third floors of restaurants, inns, and shops without needing to land. Most upper floors of shops are witch-specialized, featuring magical items and clothing that fits the witchy aesthetic. Save for the broom and the beat up pointy hat, I don’t look anything like what a witch is expected to look at, but most people here don’t fit that aesthetic. It’s old fashioned and unfashionable, anyhow!

I hop on my broom, double checking that the fastener on my witch hat is on. I wouldn’t want the hat to go flying off, after all! I carefully position my skirt as to not allow the people down below a look – most witches go with pants nowadays to avoid that, but I’ve fought for 18 years to allow myself this chance to fly with a skirt, so I’m wearing one – then lift off!

I struggle to gain control for a few seconds as I shoot straight up into the sky. Those around me pause, familiar with an unskilled witch. I’m not the only one that isn’t totally in control. I see young witches around me struggling just as I do. Most are much younger, though. One ten year old is being taught to fly in much the same way one might see a child learning to ride a bike. Of course, the risk of crashing a bike from a thousand feet up is rather slim, unlike a broom. Most witches are capable at flying a broom by the time they’re 13. Of course, I never had anyone to teach me, and people back home always gave me trouble when I tried to fly. Mostly out of bigotry, but also because I once crashed into a neighbor’s chicken coop.

“Either learn how to fly or stay out of the air!” one angry guy shouts at me as I zoom past him, mere inches from knocking into him.

“Sorry!”

Eventually, I’m far above the angry old man. From here, the city stretches out before me, seemingly endlessly. Off in the distance, fantastical mansions belonging to famed adventurers. Of course, I don’t have any want to head there, and potentially piss off someone who might have saved this world. I’m good to stick around here, and check out the tourist spots; the restaurants all look rather good! Of course, I can’t afford most of them. First things first, I think, I need to find a job. Then, from there, I can start training once I’ve settled in.

I fly around a bit, searching for any kind of help wanted sign. Nothing of the sort, though. I chew at my lower lip in worry. Maybe all the jobs are full? Or do you just wander in and ask for a job? Back home, you just did what your parents told you to do, but here, I’m all on my own.

I fly into the top doors of a few buildings. The first is a restaurant that says that they’re not hiring hicks. The second is a boutique that says that I need a bit more class if I want a job here. A butcher says that he’s hiring, but the pay is abysmal, and the hours are uncertain and all over the place. Other stores and restaurants give me the same spiel: you’re poor, you’re classless, are you okay with working 16 hours straight every 5th sunday but only when there’s a full moon? No real jobs seem to be open.

My stomach is growling as I fly ahead without really paying any attention. And then…

CRASH!

I collide mid-air with another witch and we go spiraling towards the ground. From this height, I’m at serious risk of injury. Probably not death, though that isn’t too reassuring when I have to say probably.

Thankfully, several feet from the ground, we seem to hit some kind of magical net, and are slowly lowered to the ground.

“What was that?” I ask, looking up above me.

“A magical safety net,” the girl I ran into mumbles, rubbing her back where i ran into her. “Most people aren’t stupid enough to need it. There are lots of trainees like you here, though, and we can’t let kids fall from roof height to a cobblestone ground, can we?”

‘Oh! Cool! Oh, wait, I’m sorry!” I quickly get up, and bow to the woman before me. She’s wearing long black pants and a black button up shirt. She has short black hair and a scar running down the side of her face.

She stares at me, then shrugs. “Meh. Mistakes happen. Where are your parents?”

“I’m 18!”

She gives me a strange look. “Really? 18 and you still don’t know how to ride a broom?”

“I come from a really backwards town.”

“I can tell, but don’t even country girls learn to ride brooms?”

“Er… I’m transgender.”

“And?”

“My city doesn’t approve of transgender witches.”

“That’s stupid. I’m transgender and learned to ride a broom at age 8. I became a full-fledged witch at age 14.”

“Wow! Back home it takes people decades to become a full fledged witch!”

“It’s the same in the city. Of course, most of these idiots can at least ride a broom.”

I bow to her once more. “I’m sorry that I ran into you!”

“We’ve been over this. I think you’re an idiot, but I harbor no ill feelings towards idiots. They can’t help that they’re idiots.”

“Right. Sorry. Can I help you somehow to make up for it?”

The woman looks me up and down, seemingly judging me.

“What is your name?”

“Ellen!”

“Ellen? I’m Aja.”

My ears perk up, and I stare at the woman before me.

“Aja the Relentless?”

She sighs. “Most people are smarter than you. Yes, that’s me.”

“As in THE Aja the Relentless?”

“Was there another that I wasn’t familiar with?”

Aja is well known as a hero of this country. She has saved the world on four separate occasions, and is known to never give up. She has died twice in defense of the world, the second less than an hour after dying the first time. She was killed by a Behemoth – the greatest kind of monster which is capable of destroying a planet – and resurrected by an Angel whose job it is to collect dead heroes and bring them to a safe place to bring them back to life. Generally, deceased heroes are out of action for weeks or even months. Aja went straight back into battle, and then defeated the Behemoth, though she also died as a result.

I’m facing someone who isn’t just a hero, but a legend. And she’s barely older than I am! I thought that she was some kind of ancient witch like what comes to mind when you think of the stereotypical witch!

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, girl,” she says.

“I’m sorry! I just–”

‘If you say sorry one more time I will hex you to never be able to say that word again.”

I cover my mouth.

“Good. Now, you say you want to help me? Excellent. I have a job for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You look like you’re new in town and could use it. Here’s the deal: be my maid, and in return, you’ll get room and board, as well as all the food you could ever want and a fair pay.”

“What? That sounds amazing! Surely you couldn’t offer all that up to me?”

“I hate cleaning. Ah, I’ll also train you, if you want.”

“What? Seriously? Why would you do this for me?”

She frowns. “You’re just a girl who is down on her luck. I could have been like you had things been different. I was lucky. But luck – nor class, or species, or gender – should not have anything to do with someone’s opportunity to be a hero. If I had never been born to my family, I may have never become a witch, my family was warm and welcoming. Not all families are. And if I hadn’t become a witch, I couldn’t have fought to save so many people. I won’t say that the world would have ended without my there to help – I was just one of many warriors fighting to protect this world, and I’m not quite THAT full of myself – but there’s no telling how many people could be dead if I hadn’t been there to help.”

“You think I could be a hero?”

“Do me a favor Ellen. Look over there at that drunk guy stumbling around the park.”

I look, and see the man in question. He seems to be homeless, based on his rags and hair.

“What about him?”

“Do you think he could be a hero?”

“I don’t expect that a hero would be acting that way.”

“Well you’re a damned fool. That man fought to protect his home town against an army of invading Cosmons. He failed. His whole village was destroyed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He’s still a hero. He saved lives that day. 26 lives managed to escape while he battled the Cosmons by himself. But he doesn’t see himself that way. He drinks away his sorrows, he tires to forget his failures, and in doing so, he forgets about all that he’s accomplished.”

“I see… but I also don’t. What is the point here?”

“The point, you simpleton, is that you can’t ever tell who may or may not be a hero. Especially not in the future. Any kid you see learning to fly might be a hero one day. Even a brainless country girl like you could be a hero, potentially. I’ll admit that it is highly unlikely, though.”

“Thanks.”

“But if you’re ready to face hell, then I’m ready to give you hell. I’ll make a hero out of you if it kills me. Follow me.”

She hops on her broom, and flies off. I follow after her, slowly. She brings me to a moderately sized house in a nice neighborhood.

“I feel like someone who has saved the world on multiple occasions should have a nicer house,” I tell her.

“Shut up. It’s my house, and it works just fine. I don’t need some pointless megamansion just because I’m a hero or whatever other stupid things you want to call me. This house is fine.”

She places her hand on the door. It has no handle. A second later, it glimmers, and opens up.

“Place your hand there, it’ll register you as a worker.”

I follow her lead, and place my hand on the door. It shimmers and then returns to a flat blue color. I then turn towards the room before me, and gasp in horror.

Trashbags, half-eaten food, beer cans, fast food containers, and more are piled up. Cobwebs are in every corner. The path from door to couch to kitchen is the only relatively clear area, and the carpet there shows the wear.

“Get to cleaning,” she says.

I stand still for a moment. The entire time, Aja just glares at me. I then begin picking stuff up off the floor and stuffing them in trashbags. While I do, Aja picks up her wand and holds it up to her mouth.

“Tog’s Noodles? Yeah, it’s me again. Double order of the usual. Thanks.”

A few minutes later, the door shimmers, and a delivery boy steps in. He pauses when he sees me there, cleaning up. Aja gives him some coins, and sends him on his way. He bows, and leaves.

“The delivery people are allowed to enter your home?” I ask.

“I’m typically busy, so they bring it to my couch or desk. And if a package arrives they just drop it off in my room. Don’t worry, I have wards in place, so if they tried to steal something, they would drop dead within a minute of leaving my home.”

“Oh. Fantastic.”

“Yeah. So keep that in mind and don’t try stealing anything.”

She hands me a cardboard bowl full of noodles. They taste alright. A legend should really be eating better than this, though.

“Thanks for the food,” I say once I finish.

“Yeah. Feel free to order more if you’re hungry, just tell them it’s on me. I don’t pay anyhow, the city floats my bill. That’s the benefit of being a hero, you know.”

“Uh, in that case, couldn’t you just eat nicer food?”

“There’s no better noodle join in town than Tog’s.”

“I was thinking something fancy, maybe. Steak?”

“I don’t eat meat.”

“Veggie curry? I’m a decent chef.”

She looks me up and down. “Let me order groceries really quick. We’ll test out how true that statement is.”

I clean for a few more minutes until the groceries arrive. I then wash my hands thoroughly, and begin prepping the curry. I don’t know how Aja likes it, so I just prepare it with mild spice. Lots of flavor, though. I hand her a bowl, and wait patiently to see how she reacts.

Her eyes go wide.

“Uh? How is it?” I ask.

She turns towards me, eyes still wide, spork hanging limply between her fingers.

“Girl? Ellen? You could be a chef! What are you doing here?”

“They said that they had standards.”

“To hell with that! Tell them that Aja sent them, and if they give you shit, you go and grab them! You could be a culinary hero! Gordon who? You could put these guys out of business!”

“I really just want to be a witch,” I tell her.

“Yeah, yeah! You can be my personal chef and maid, then. I’ll bump your pay. Wow. do you have more of this?”

“You’re done already? Sheesh! You should watch your figure. If you keep eating that much–”

“I burn it with magic, don’t worry. Another three bowls.”

Dumbfounded, I fill three more bowls, and watch as she downs them with ease. She then heads to her room, claiming that she needs to do research. I return to cleaning her living room. It takes hours. Once I return from the dump, I find that she’s still in her room doing research.

Aja said that she would provide room and board, but has yet to show me to my room. I sigh, and lie down on the couch, fine with just sleeping there. There are also other rooms in the house, but I’m not eager to start snooping around. I’m sure that she’ll tell me what else to clean in the morning.

I hadn’t even realized just how exhausted I was. Next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes as light shines in through the blinds. I stretch, and then order some groceries to make breakfast. Loaded veggie omelets. As I’m cooking, I hear the door to Aja’s door open, and she sticks her head out.

“It’s a bit early to be cooking,” she says.

“Do you want food or not? It’s morning.”

She grumbles, but takes a seat at the kitchen table. She looks around the living room as she treks across it.

“My carpet was white?”

“So it turns out.”

“Who knew.”

I hand her several plates of omelets, and sit across the table from her. She seems to enjoy it, as she quickly eats them.

“Amazing.”

“You’re welcome. When can we start training?”

“Ah, you're that eager? First things first, let me show you what other rooms you’ll be cleaning. You have free access to all rooms save for my bedroom. Still, it’ll need to be cleaned, just not while I’m away.”

She has a bedroom for me, as well as a study, a bedroom, a trophy room filled with taxidermied monsters, and bathrooms. Most are not as bad as the living room, but certainly need to be cleaned well. But that can wait, as she promises to start teaching me magic. We head to her backyard. There’s some fair area here, with some training dummies and stuff.

“Alright, let’s see what you’re capable of.”

The answer is not a whole lot. She seems severely disappointed.

“Maybe it would be best for you to just be a chef,” she mutters.

“Am I really that bad?”

“There are toddlers with more skill than you. Still, we can fix that. Yesterday's work will seem like child's play compared to what I’m about to put you through.”

She isn’t kidding. For over 8 hours, I’m doing simple drills while Aja yells at me. She catches even the slightest mistake, and forces me to try again. She isn’t pleased until my standard spells such as firebolt are up to par.

“It isn’t perfect, but a toddler shouldn’t upstage you now,” she says. “Ah, except for flying, that is. But we can work on that tomorrow.”

I’m on the ground, exhausted, struggling for breath.

“Ah, I remember when I was in your shoes. Be happy. My teacher forced me to work for days on end. I didn’t get a childhood, only training. But I suppose that might be the way that I am now. It’s for the best to take things at your own pace.”

“Ugh…”

“Though in your case, we certainly need to push the envelope. For now, though, you can rest. This was a good warmup.”

“Warmup?”

“Yes. I know your skills and limits. I can take that into account once we start training. Can you make dinner, or do I need to call in food?”

“We’ll need to order out tonight.”

“Fine. Tog’s?”

“Sure…”

I’m dragged to the couch by Aja. She puts my meal on the coffee table, and eats at the kitchen table by herself. I can’t help but think that she looks a bit lonely there.

“Do you usually eat alone?” I ask.

“Yes. You have a problem with that?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am, just call me by my name.”

“As you wish, Aja.”

“Good. I like being alone, so don’t mind that. I’ll be spending most of my time in my room or my study. I expect to be left alone while busy, so be sure not to bother me. If you do bother me, I’ll kill you.”

“Understood.”

With that, she finishes her food, and retreats to her study. She’s there for at least an hour while I lay on the couch, only half conscious. And then I hear screaming coming from her study. I jump up to my feet, and run to the door to her study. I put my hand on the handle, and then pause. She said not to bother her, but she’s screaming right now? Surely I can go in?

I take a deep breath, steeling myself, then fling the door open. Aja is staring into a crystal ball, screaming her lungs out. I’m careful not to look into the orb, and grab her shoulders, shaking her away from whatever she is viewing. She looks up at me with confusion.

“Are you ok?” I ask.

“What?”

I repeat my question. She looks down at herself.

“What is this? Where am I? Who are you?”

I stare at her strangely, then answer the questions. “This is… an orb I guess. And this is your home. I’m Ellen, your maid.”

The confusion doesn’t leave her face. “I don’t have a maid. And this isn’t my home, nor my body. What is going on?”

I look down at the crystal ball. Inside of it, a person is being tortured.

“Is that you?” I ask. Aja – rather, the person within Aja’s body – nods their head.

“Oh. I messed up,” I say. Aja was spying on someone using advanced methods, and their screams came in through her body as she was so closely connected to the scene, likely trying to interfere in some way. And now she’s stuck in the tortured soul’s body, and the tortured soul is in her body.

“Better her than me. I’m down to get away from my previous life,” the person in Aja’s body says.

“No! Aja is a hero! A legend! You can’t just take her body!”

“Why not? If the torturers get their way, she’ll – oh. Oh wow.”

I look back into the orb. Aja (in the body of a blonde woman) has now escaped from her shackles and is whipping the torturer with a whip that was just being used on her. She blasts fire at guards as they try to attack her, and then glares right at us. She flips us off, then heads off out of sight of the orb.

“You better stay right here. If she has to track down her body, she’ll kill you.”

The woman in Aja’s body nods her head. We sit around for a few hours, eating food and relaxing, before Aja arrives, extremely annoyed.

“Welcome home,” I tell her.

She sneers. “Oh, welcome home, alright! What did I just tell you before you opened my door?”

“Not to open the door?”

“And what did you do?”

“I opened the door.”

She jabs my forehead with her thumb, and I’m knocked clean off my feet.

“Right! I don’t care what is going on! Do no, under any circumstances, open that door! If I’m having an issue, a lowly assistant such as yourself can’t help! And you!” She points at the person in her body. “You owe me everything. Now stand still and let me get my body back!”

A moment later, Aja, now back in her own body, ushers the other person out.

“What was all of that about?” I ask.

“Foreign diplomacy, the good old fashioned way. Let’s just say there’s a new opening for king in a neighboring country. It’s more than you need to worry about, that much should be clear!”

I drop to my knees and bow to her. “I’m sorry for messing things up!”

“You better be! I was hoping to deal with that with more elegance! Murder is rarely the answer!”

“Really?”

“Really! I could have avoided most of the murder committed there and went straight for the king!”

“And murdered him?”

“It was an assassination! Those are generally fine!”

“Oh. okay.”

“Right! I’m hungry now, do you have any idea how much energy that took? Relatively speaking, less than it takes to deal with you, but still a ton! Now make me some food!”

I get up, and make some greens and rice with special sauce. I make sure to sit at the table to that I can keep Aja company. Her sour mood quickly goes away once she digs in to my food.

“I can’t stand you, but I’m so happy I keep you around,” she says.

“I’m glad that I can keep you company.”

“You’ll eat in your own room from now on.”

I frown. “No, I don’t think so. You shouldn’t eat alone.”

She cocks an eyebrow at me. “You’re talking back to your master? Your boss? Your teacher?”

“You seem like you get lonely, so I want to keep you company.”

She seems to redden a little bit. “Well, I don’t like labels like master of boss anyhow. But I’m still your teacher, so show some respect… still, you should stick up for yourself. So good job, I guess.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. You’re easily flustered, though, that’s kind of surprising.”

She scoffs. “Nonsense!”

I place my hand on hers, and she jerks back with her whole body, flinging rice onto her face and clothes. Her face is crimson red now.

“So you say?” I purr.

She stands up abruptly, scowling at me. She grabs my arm, and pulls me up.

“I’ll show you a thing or two!” she growls. And then she starts dragging me to her bedroom. The rest, as they say, is history.