This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Tuesdays to complete it here. Patreon Free Members can read my new complete book by chapters, Things We Do for Love

Chapter Four: Death and Rebirth

Michelle's gentle insistence that I take my bath and get ready for bed had marked the end of my first day as Minuet. But as I settled into the warm bathwater, marveling at how natural it felt to see my authentic twelve-year-old female body for the first time, I realized that Helen's greatest gifts were still unfolding.

The pink velvet dress hung carefully on my bedroom door, and as I dried off with fluffy towels that smelled like home, I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. The girl looking back at me had always existed in my dreams, but now she was real—pigtails slightly damp from the bath, cheeks flushed with youth and possibility, eyes bright with the wonder of authentic existence.

"Minnie, are you almost ready for your story?" Michelle's voice carried up the stairs, warm with maternal affection that felt both new and eternal.

"Almost, Momma!" The word still sent shivers of joy through me. I slipped into my nightgown—soft cotton with tiny pink flowers—and padded barefoot to my bedroom.

My room was exactly as my new memories told me it should be: walls painted in soft lavender, a bookshelf filled with fairy tales and adventure stories, a desk where I'd supposedly done homework for years. The bed was covered with a quilt that Michelle had made, its pattern of interlocking Celtic knots echoing the Triquetra necklace that now rested on my nightstand.

The Princess Story
Michelle appeared in my doorway, her expression soft with love and exhaustion. The day had transformed her as much as it had me—she'd lost her sister and gained a daughter in the span of hours, yet she carried the transition with remarkable grace.

"All ready for bed, munchkin?"

"Yes, Momma. Will you really tell me the princess story?"

She settled beside me on the bed, smoothing the covers around me with practiced maternal gestures. "Of course, sweetie. Though I have a feeling you know this story better than I do."

The irony wasn't lost on either of us. As Marcus, I had created this story during Helen's worst pain episodes, weaving it from imagination and hope to soothe both of us when medical interventions fell short. Now, as Minuet, I would hear it as it was meant to be heard—by a little girl who needed to believe in magic and transformation.

"Once upon a time," Michelle began, her voice taking on the cadence of countless bedtime stories, "in a kingdom where the mountains touched the clouds, there lived a little girl who didn't know she was a princess."

I snuggled deeper into my pillows, the Celtic Triquetra necklace warm against my chest even through my nightgown. Helen's presence felt close, as if she were listening from just beyond the veil.

"The little girl lived in a tower—not because she was imprisoned, but because she was afraid to come down and let the world see who she really was. She spent her days caring for others, bringing them food and comfort, but she never allowed herself to receive the same kindness."

Michelle's voice caught slightly, and I realized she was thinking of Marcus, of how I had hidden my true self behind professional duty and fear.

"One day, two fairy godmothers came to visit the tower. They were sisters, bound by magic older than the kingdom itself, and they could see through the little girl's disguise. 'Why do you hide your crown?' asked the first fairy godmother. 'We can see it shining, even when you cannot.'"

The story continued, weaving together themes of recognition, acceptance, and transformation. The fairy godmothers gave the hidden princess three gifts: a necklace that would connect her to her true family, the courage to reveal her authentic self, and finally, the magic to transform her body to match her spirit.

"But the greatest gift," Michelle continued, her hand stroking my hair, "was not the transformation itself, but the love that made it possible. For you see, the first fairy godmother had to give up her own magic to grant the princess her true form. It was the ultimate act of love—one sister passing her life to another so that the princess could finally grow up as she was meant to be."

Tears slipped down my cheeks as the story reached its climax. Helen's sacrifice, rendered as fairy tale, felt both magical and heartbreakingly real.

"And did the princess live happily ever after?" I whispered, though I knew the answer.

"She lived authentically ever after," Michelle corrected gently. "Which is better than happy, because authentic includes all the feelings—joy and sorrow, love and loss, but always, always truth."

Helen's Guidance
As Michelle kissed my forehead and prepared to leave, Helen's presence materialized in the room. She appeared more translucent than before, her spiritual energy clearly diminishing, but her love remained as strong as ever.

"Did you like your story, sprite?" Helen asked, settling into the chair beside my bed.

"It was beautiful. Thank you for making it real."

"You made it real, sweetie. I just provided the magic to help it along." Helen's expression grew serious. "But I need to prepare you for what's coming. My time as your guide is limited, and there are forces awakening that will challenge everything we've built."

Michelle, who could see and hear Helen as clearly as I could, sat back down on the bed. "What kind of forces?"

"The fire that's been reported in the forest isn't natural. When Tabitha's circle disturbed that ancient altar months ago, they awakened something that should have remained sleeping. A fire elemental, ancient and angry, seeking a vessel for its rage."

The warmth of my bedtime story evaporated, replaced by a chill of foreboding. "What does it want?"

"To burn away what it sees as corruption. And unfortunately, it's found a willing host in Elias Vire, the preacher who's been speaking against demons and unnatural influences." Helen's form flickered, as if the effort of warning us was draining her remaining energy.

"The man from the shopping center?" I remembered the encounter Laura had mentioned, though my new memories were still settling into place.

"The same. He was caught in the forest fire when the elemental first awakened, and instead of being destroyed, he absorbed part of its essence. Now he believes his survival was divine intervention, and he's determined to cleanse the world of what he sees as evil magic."

Michelle's protective instincts flared. "He's targeting the circles?"

"He's targeting anyone who practices the old ways. But more than that, he's drawn to power, and the three of us—our bond, our necklaces, our transformation—we shine like a beacon to his elemental sight."

The implications settled over us like a heavy blanket. My first day as Minuet, which had been filled with wonder and love, now carried the shadow of approaching conflict.

"What do we do?" I asked, my twelve-year-old voice small in the darkness.

"We prepare. We learn. We grow stronger." Helen's voice carried the weight of ancient wisdom. "And we remember that love is always more powerful than hate, even when hate burns with elemental fire."

The Growing Threat
Helen rose from the chair, her form becoming even more ethereal. "I must go now. Michelle, tomorrow you'll need to contact Tabitha. She's returned from Ireland with knowledge we'll need. And Minuet, you'll be meeting other young practitioners soon. There's a girl named Laura whose family has connections to the ancient altar. She'll become important to you."

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, suddenly afraid of losing my spiritual guide so soon after finding my authentic self.

"For a while longer, sprite. But each time I appear, I use energy that brings me closer to my final journey. We must use our remaining time wisely."

As Helen began to fade, she added one final warning: "The elemental grows stronger with each passing day, and Elias's sermons are gathering followers. They see magic as the enemy, never realizing that the greatest magic is love itself. Stay close to each other, trust in your bond, and remember—the power of three is greater than any single force, no matter how ancient or angry."

With that, Helen disappeared, leaving Michelle and me alone in my bedroom. The Celtic Triquetra necklace had grown warm during Helen's visit, and I could feel its connection to Michelle's matching pendant across the room.

"Momma, are you scared?"

Michelle considered the question carefully. "I'm concerned, sweetie. But I'm not afraid. We have something Elias doesn't understand—we have love that transcends death itself. Helen proved that today when she transformed you. That kind of love is the most powerful force in any universe."

She tucked the covers around me one more time. "Now get some sleep, munchkin. Tomorrow we start learning how to protect what we've been given."

As Michelle turned off the light and closed my door, I lay in the darkness thinking about Helen's warnings. Somewhere in the forest, an ancient fire burned with elemental rage, and a preacher who had once been a frightened girl named Ruth was gathering followers for a crusade against everything I now represented.

But I was no longer Marcus, hiding behind professional detachment and fear. I was Minuet, surrounded by love, protected by ancient magic, and part of a sisterhood that had already proven death could not break their bonds.

The Celtic Triquetra necklace pulsed gently against my chest, and I felt Helen's love flowing through it like a warm current. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I would face them as my authentic self, supported by chosen family and guided by wisdom that spanned the boundary between life and death.

The princess in the story had lived authentically ever after. Now it was time for me to do the same, even if it meant standing against the elemental fire that threatened to consume everything we held dear.