Displaced By Daniela A. Wolfe Ever since he lost his job, Harry has been eking out a meager existence with his fledgling repair business, but when a catalog claiming to sell real magical items falls into his hands, his life is ‘displaced’ forever.

Author's Note: I've been sitting on this one for over a year and a half. I figured it was about time I dusted this puppy off and get it fine-tuned so I could share it with all of you.

This story is part of an open universe, you can find the rules and guidelines on my website:
https://danielawolfe.com/my-stories/open-universes/

Thanks to Xtrim for providing final grammar edits.

At the sound of footsteps, I dove into a copse of bushes near the base of the exterior staircase. My heart hammered in my chest as I positioned myself to surveil the path leading into the building. It was dark and illumination from a streetlight beamed down on the sidewalk giving me a clear view of the newcomer.

His perfect teeth were gritted, and he was yelling into his phone. "The wry little bastard has been giving me the slip all day."

When Jared Travis stepped in front of the bushes where I'd concealed myself, he stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know, Mom, but last month it took him almost a week to pay up and I'm getting real tired of trying to hunt him down."

Linda, Jared's mother, owned Shady Acres Apartments. She'd retired a few years back and left the management of the building up to her son. That she'd taken a personal interest didn't bode well for me at all.

"Okay, okay," he said turning his back to me and shaking his head. "Calm down, no one said anything about evicting him."

Okay, did I hear that right? I shook my head and discounted the notion. Linda was a far sight more pleasant to get along with than her son. She'd been the most easy going landlady from whom I'd ever rented. That being said she'd evicted more than a few people over the years, it seemed unlikely she'd spare me a second thought.

Jared growled under his breath, tapped the screen of his phone and slid it back into his pocket. He glanced back toward the bushes one final time and for a second I was sure he'd seen me, but then he turned away and disappeared back into the building slamming the door shut behind him.

I waited a few tense minutes, certain that he would return, but when he didn't show his face, I pulled myself out of the bushes. After brushing myself off, I made my way back into the building keeping my eyes and ears open. It was late, and the hallways were devoid of anyone or anything which made it a lot easier for me to get back into my apartment unnoticed.

Still, where Jared was concerned, I'd learned to be cautious. When I got to the elevators, instead of hopping in, I walked past, taking the opposite doorway and made my way up the staircase.

I lived on the third floor and the effort shouldn't have winded me, but I'd spent all day booking my ass around town and hopping from bus to bus. I submitted my resume to more than half a dozen places and I still didn't like my chances. Needless to say, I was tired.

When I got up to my floor, I paused at the door, glanced out the little window and cursed under my breath. "Dammit all to hell."

Jared, my super, waited just outside my apartment door, arms folded across his chest and, as cliche as it sounded, tapping his foot on the floor. The slick bastard must have figured out I wasn't inside and was waiting for me to get back. Which meant I would either have to confront him or wait him out.

I chose the latter cursing the pretty boy under my breath as I slumped down to the ground and let out a long sigh. Must be nice to have a rich mother to hand you a damn job. Meanwhile people like me had to do things the hard way. Given that I froze up during interviews, I didn't have much success.

I sighed and pulled my phone out of my pocket confirming what I already knew, the thing was dead. So, I put it back and looked around.

That's when I saw something which caught my eye.

I grunted and reached over retrieving what looked like a rolled-up magazine which someone had jammed into a slat in the railing. Once unrolled, I peered into the thing and snorted. It wasn't a magazine at all, but a catalog titled 'Aethermysts: Your number one source for all your magic needs.'

I flipped through the pages and snorted again.

"Give me a fucking break. Mach-O-Blaster, Gend-O-Matic? What the fuck is this?" I asked no one in particular then crumpled the catalog into a ball and threw the damn thing as hard and as far as I could.

With a long plaintive sigh, I folded my arms across my chest and gritted my teeth. Something told me I would have one long ass wait on my hands.

The wry little bastard lingered for another three hours before finally giving up and traipsing out of the hallway. I had to hand it to him he stuck around much longer than I expected. I guess it just goes to show how big of an annoyance I'd been. I just needed to keep away from him until tomorrow morning. After that, there was a good chance I'd have the money.

I waited ten minutes after he left, then opened the stairwell door and glanced about the hallway before slinking my way toward my apartment door and slipped inside. I dropped my coat at the door, so tired I didn't even give a fuck about expending the extra effort to put it on the coat rack.

My apartment wasn't much to look at, and, to be honest, I was no interior decorator. By almost any standard my living space was damned spartan, but that suited me just fine. I didn't need to clutter up my place with useless crap. I had everything I would ever need.

Moving through my modest little living space, I cut a beeline to the bedroom. Once inside, I fell face first into bed. I rolled onto my side, and just before I slipped into a semi-vegetative state, I noticed a wadded up piece of paper resting on my nightstand. Within seconds, I was out and lost in the blissful world of dreams.

It was late by the time my tired ass woke up. Had it not been for the sound of several loud thuds, I would have slept longer. At first, I convinced myself the sound resulted from muted gunfire, but as I came fully awake, I realized something much more mundane was at work. Someone was at the door.

I stumbled out of bed, knocking the crumpled up wad of paper off of my nightstand, and staggered toward the door. I had just enough presence of mind to glance through the peephole before swinging the door wide open.

"Waddya want?!" I demanded barely capable of even grunting it out and squinted at the little fellow as I scratched the back of my head.

"Hi, I'm Steve we talked yesterday on the phone about your Gregslist ad? You're Harry, right?" He looked at me eyes wide and darting away from the door.

"Oh? Right, right," I said throwing a hand over my shoulder and let out a loud yawn. Shit, I'd forgotten all about him. "Sorry had a late night. Why don't you come in and we can do this thing?"

I moved away from the opening and Steve stepped inside. Once I closed the door behind him, I glanced around and held my hand up as I emitted another loud yawn. "Uh, wait a minute I'll be right back."

I slipped into my room and stopped dead in my tracks. I walked over to my nightstand and furrowed my brows.

What the fuck? The clumped up wad of paper was again sitting on my nightstand. I could have sworn I'd knocked it to the ground when I stumbled out of bed. It looked an awful lot like that weird catalog I'd found in the staircase. I shook my head, convinced I must have been mistaken, tossed the wad into the garbage and retrieved the item for which Steve had come.

I found him waiting where I'd left him and motioned toward the couch with an open hand. "Uh, I guess you're gonna want a look at the merchandise."

Steve nodded, took a seat, and I set the laptop down in front of him. He flipped the thing open and booted it up. I sat opposite him. "I put in new hinges, upgraded the ram, replaced the original hard drive with a solid state drive and did a clean install of the OS."

Steve nodded, but didn't say a word, eyes glued to the screen as he logged into the computer. I waited with bated breath, ever since I lost my job I'd been eking out a meager existence by refurbishing damaged laptops and other electronics. Some folks made good money that way, but I'd only been at it for less than half a year. While I was pretty good at repairing things, I wasn't much of a people person.

Steve continued with his inspection, and I leaned back into my seat waiting for him to finish up. He continued for a good ten minutes before he flipped the notebook shut and looked back up at me. "I'll take it."

Next came the haggling, and as I expected, I ended up selling it for less than my original asking price, but it would be enough. The laptop hadn't exactly been high end, and I'd come out of the deal with more than I'd put in. With some money I'd already collected from another repair job, I would have enough to pay rent for the month and not much else. I guessed I'd be living off ramen for the foreseeable future. I was getting really tired of scrimping by like this month after month. Shit, I needed to find a job and fast.

After letting Steven out I returned to my bedroom, just a little disconcerted to find that the paper wad had again found its way back onto my nightstand. Either someone was playing a prank on me or something strange was going on. As much as I strained my mind, I couldn't think of anyone beyond Jared or the super who might have access to my apartment and there would be no reason why either would punk me in such a manner.

I picked the ball of paper up, collapsed into bed and retrieved my phone from inside my pocket. I dialed Jared and put my cell against my ear while un-crumpling the wad with my free hand. Sure enough, it was the same catalog from the stairwell. I turned the thing back to front and began to flip through the pages as I waited for Jared to pick up, but he never did. So I left a message and hung up.

I set the phone down and eyed the catalog with all my attention. Again, I flipped through, this time looking for a website or a phone number and found neither. Instead, all I found was a P.O. Box. Thinking, perhaps, that it might be outdated, I looked for a copyright date and found one the very bottom of the back cover. It was less than a month old.

I wasn't sure what convinced me the thing was authentic. The whole teleportation act it pulled seemed impressive, but, face it, with enough time I would have rationalized it. Maybe, I wanted it to be real. A part of me was still wary of the catalog, even if the items listed within were real, there was no telling how well they worked or if they worked the way they advertised.

I have to admit, the Mach-O-Blaster piqued my interest, for that matter, so did the Power Potion, but the item that really caught my eye was the cheapest in the entire book. It seemed a little ironic given the item's intended purpose, but that didn't raise the red flags it should have.

The catalog listing called it a Prosperity Spell and from what I could tell it was meant to help the user be successful in their future endeavors. Was it so surprising given my current predicament?

I was getting desperate, and tired of trying to eke out a meager existence on almost nothing. Something needed to change, or I'd be out on my ass in no time. Most people would scoff at ordering a spell out of a catalog, myself included, but the thought didn't give me much pause.

I ended up sending in the five dollars with the order form. My budget was already slim, but that small amount of cash would not make a lot of difference. I just wish I'd read the small print before completing the order form, it would have saved me a lot of trouble.

Her hips swayed and her breasts jiggled with each step. She leveled her gaze on me and I stopped, ramen-packed grocery bags clenched in my hands and stared at her with wide eyes. She wore a skimpy little black formal dress, and she was easily the most attractive woman I'd ever laid eyes on shy of the television or big screen.

Something was wrong. I saw it in seconds. For one there was a strange vacant expression in her eyes, and for another she was moving straight toward me. Don't get me wrong, I was far from ugly, but we didn't even exist in the same league. Hell, I doubted she'd even give Jared a second glance, and women loved the guy.

The elevator doors started to close on me and I lurched forward letting the doors hit my shoulders and open back up. I eyed the woman, bit my lip and smiled. "Hey, how's it going?"

She didn't pause, or even acknowledge that she'd heard me, but just kept coming. I took a few awkward steps to the side and as I did so she turned to adjust course. Now, I don't mean she turned upon seeing me step away, but did it in perfect sync with me. It was freaky as hell and it raised the old shackles on the back of my neck.

She held a little envelope in her hands and when she got close, she raised her hand holding it out to me. I froze and stared at her with wide eyes. She didn't budge a muscle, keeping so still that she may well have been a statue.

I looked into her eyes and waved my hand in front of her face. She didn't respond but stayed in place hand still extended. When I took a step back, and she moved forward, again in sync with me.

I glanced toward my apartment door, contemplating making a run for it, but sheer morbid curiosity got the better of me. It was obvious she wanted me to take the thing, and I was dying to know what could be in it.

I gritted my teeth, shifted both bags of ramen into one hand and snatched the paper out of her outstretched palm. The moment I had it, she shook her head and looked around. It was almost as if someone had switched on a light inside her mind.

"Where the hell am I?!" She demanded her eyes settling on me.

"Uh, Shady Acres Apartments," I replied.

She stood there eyeing me with a pair of striking blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. She lifted a wrist glancing at a jewel-encrusted watch that probably cost more than I'd made in the last year and started cursing under her breath.

"Dammit, I'm late!" She took off down the corridor, her high-heels clicking and clacking against the hardwood floors of the hallway. The tight little dress limited the movements of her leg and coupled with the height of her heels I thought for certain she'd lose her balance and take a tumble. Somehow she made it all the way to the elevator, and she soon disappeared through its shiny metal doors.

Like a jackass I stood there and watched the elevator doors, still, just a little freaked out by what had happened. It took me well over a minute before I had the bright idea to examine the envelope. It seemed ordinary enough, save that someone had sealed it with wax. There were no addresses or post office box numbers, but it had my name on the middle of the front. In the top left instead of a return address it listed Aethermysts Order Fulfillment Services.

If I'd had any doubts about the legitimacy of the catalog, their delivery method damn well put them to rest. I slipped the envelope into one of the grocery bags and walked straight for my apartment.

Once inside, I dropped both my grocery sacks onto the counter, retrieved the envelope from inside and plopped down on the couch tearing it open. Inside I found pretty much what I expected, directions for completing the prosperity spell that I'd ordered. It was all hand-written in a simple, impeccable script that resembled calligraphy, but which appeared to be written with a ballpoint pen.

I read it front and back and leaned back on the couch letting out a long sigh. The whole thing just seemed a little too good to be true, a prosperity spell that promised to bring wealth and well-being to whoever cast it and it had only set me back five dollars? I bit my lip and eyed a particular line at the very top of the paper that was just a little disconcerting.

'Warning, be sure to follow the directions exactly as instructed and pronounce each portion of the spell as written. Failure to do so may result in transfiguration, and/or chronological displacement.'

I didn't know what the fuck the warning meant, but, I think, it would give anyone pause. I almost crumbled the spell up and tossed it in the wastebasket, but stopped eyeing a second envelope sitting on the coffee table before me. It contained another bill.

I didn't have more than a few dollars to my name and unless I sold half of the crap in my apartment, managed to sell another device or landed a repair job, I wouldn't be able to pay it. I was getting damned tired of scrimping by just to make ends meet. The spell might be the answer to that.

So, against my better judgement I moved into the bedroom to retrieve what I needed. When I had a candle and a little lump of sidewalk chalk, I returned to the living room. The candle from a small supply I kept around in case of power outages, which were frequent in the area, and the chalk had been left by one of the previous tenants and I'd never bothered tossing it.

I pushed the couch out the way and upturned the ragged old rug that protected the hardwood floor. Had I any money, I would have replaced it months ago.

I plopped down, and put the paper down in front of me, as the instructions mentioned and drew a circle around myself. According to the spell, it would contain the thaumaturgic energies and prevent them from hemorrhaging into the worlds beyond. I didn't know what the hell that meant, but it didn't sound like something I wanted to happen. Needless to say, I was really careful while forming the ring.

Next, I put the unlit candle in front of me, clenched my eyes shut and started to chant the words on the paper as instructed. "Subponatis… Adolebitque illud… advocabit potestate."

I opened my eyes and almost jumped out of the circle in sheer shock. The candle was lit! Fortunately, I kept still. I didn't want to screw this up. I continued with the incantation, careful to read each line as specified. When I got to the final few bits of text, I paused sweat dripping down my whole body. I opened my mouth to speak the final few words, and the damned doorbell rang.

Startled, I jerked sideways and knocked the candle over. I didn't dare leave the circle, I had no idea what kind of effect that might have in the middle of the spell. I righted the candle and glanced down at the spell reciting the final few words and then broke the circle. An odd tingling sensation coursed down my body as I stood and moved towards the door.

Before I got there, a sharp stabbing pain shot through my gut and I hunched over collapsing to my knees. The oddest sensation wove its way through my chest, and as I slipped my hands over one of my nipples, it swelled outward. I collapsed to the ground as my bones cracked and popped. My throat burned and I let out a single scream which sounded far too high-pitched to my ears, just before everything went dark.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I gasped my eyes snapping open. My vision was muddied at first, and my mind couldn't quite grasp where I was. So I lay there squinting into a blurry blob of dull grays and browns, no doubt looking very perplexed. As my vision resolved itself, my mind snapped back into focus and I found myself looking into the face of a stranger. His lips moved, but I couldn't quite make out what he said.

Like my sight, my hearing returned, and I grunted as the stranger's words became clear to me. "—kay?"

I nodded and met his gaze. Memories of casting the spell returned to me and I sat bolt upright, my chest jiggling in a very disconcerting way. I swallowed hard and glanced down, confirming what I already suspected. A set of large breasts now protruded from my chest. I slid a hand down, touching them before swallowing again and dropped it between my legs. Though I couldn't feel much through the fabric of my jeans, it was more what I didn't feel that drove things home.

A strong breeze hit my face and for the first time I took in my surroundings. I was outside in an empty field. An old dirt road stretched into a treeline in the distance, a classic Ford pickup was parked just off to the side where they met and storm clouds darkened the sky. I didn't recognize my surroundings, or the man who stood so close to me.

The warning on the spell sprang to mind and wondered if this might not be what it meant. My heart hammering in my chest, I raised both of my arms and touched my face. It seemed, different, wrong. All my stubble had gone, instead my skin was smooth and silky, and my nose was too small, but that was not all. Further, explorations revealed a set of soft lips, a missing Adam's apple and

I glanced at the stranger and pursed my lips. "W-where am I?" My eyes bulged out of my head at the sound of my voice. It was soft and feminine, dare I say, sexy?

"Just off the Old Fork Road, Miss." He said gazed at me his eyebrows shooting way up.

"Um," I palmed my face with both hands. "What town is that in?"

"New Haven," he said, and when I didn't respond, he added. "That's in Utah."

I met his gaze and bit my lip and looked around again. "New Haven?"

I was more than a little familiar with New Haven, I knew it well. My apartment building was located there, and I'd been living in the general area for pretty much my entire life. I'd never heard of an 'Old Fork Road', but I didn't know the name of every street in town. That being said, the place I'd landed myself in, didn't look familiar at all. I wondered, could he be wrong?

New Haven was a tiny little landlocked town. There hadn't been an empty field for as long as I could remember. Maybe before I'd been born, but…

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks and I held my breath. Without even thinking about it, I began to recount the warning message from the spell over and over in my head.

'Warning, be sure to follow the directions exactly as instructed and pronounce each portion of the spell as written. Failure to complete any step correctly may result in transfiguration, and/or chronological displacement.'

Though I didn't understand at the time, I now had an inkling of what those words must have meant.

I gritted my teeth, met my rescuer's gaze and released the air out of my lungs. A wet trickle kissed my cheek and peered up just in time to catch another in the eye. I blinked wiping the drops from my face, but it was a futile effort as more followed. In moments, what started as a slight drizzle became a steady downpour.

"Can you stand?" My new friend asked.

I bit my lip, nodded and lurched from the ground. My feet slipped out of my shoes as I took my first few steps and I stumbled forward damn near falling face first, but my rescuer's firm arms grabbed me by the shoulders and held me steady. The warmth of his body pressed into my new breasts and I stood there mesmerized by the strange new feelings that this awakened with me.

He cleared his throat and pulled away, and a cold shiver traveled down my spine. My heart hammered in my chest and it was all I could do just to look away. My new body responded to his touch in ways I didn't want to admit.

"We should get out of the rain." He smiled and held out his hand.

I nodded and accepted his hand. I don't know why I felt I could trust him. Somehow I knew it would be all right and, if I was going to be honest, a part of me wanted to do more than just go with him.

I didn't bother retrieving my shoes before we took off running again. They wouldn't have fit me anyway, my rescuer glanced back at them, but shook his head and sighed, no doubt thinking better of it. My pants sagged from my waist, but caught around my wider hips. My pants slipped down past my ankle and over my feet, and even though they flopped about as I ran, I kept at it. I tripped over them once, but again Trey caught me. It wasn't long before we reached the pickup I'd spotted earlier. I got there first and stopped panting for breath outside the passenger side door.

My body seemed so alien, but one area was particularly troublesome while running. My breasts jiggled and shook with every movement and the faster I went the worse it got. It actually hurt a little. No wonder women wore sports bras.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I jerked out of the way allowing my rescuer to open the door for me. I jumped inside and whipped my hand out to close the door behind me, but my rescuer beat me to it. I hugged my knees against my chest and rolled my pant legs up as I waited for him to climb on the other side.

I glanced down at my breasts again staring at them with wide eyes, still trying to wrap my head around my transformation. My clothes were soaked through and my nipples showed through the shirt. I'd never liked the way a wet t-shirt had clung against my skin, but now that I had breasts it was worse. Particularly since the shirt stretched tighter across the chest than it ever had been before my transformation.

"You got a name?" My rescuer asked, and I turned in time to see him swing the driver's side door shut behind him.

"I, uh," I stopped mind racing trying to come up with a name to throw out, but I couldn't quite form the words.

He turned to eye me and began to panic.

"Linda," I spoke the first name that came to me and it left a sour taste in my mouth just to speak the lie, but I saw no other option.

If I'd guessed right, I had not been born yet. Even if I was wrong, and I'd landed myself in some area of New Haven, I'd never been before, which seemed unlikely, there was no way to prove my identity. So, I could either tell everyone what had happened or play it safe and put on a bit of a show. Since, the former of my two options stood a good chance of landing me in a mental institution the latter seemed the wiser choice.

"Linda?" he said eyeing me for a moment before starting the pick up. "I'm John Benedict Travis the third, but all my friends call me Trey."

I froze, and folded my arms across my chest, very aware of Trey's eyes on my breasts.

"Pleasure," I mumbled and cold chills trickling down my spine. I shuddered and looked out at the rain drenched expanse. Even though I'd been chilled to the bone, the shiver had nothing to do with my clothes being soaked through or the temperature outside. John "Trey" Travis had been the name of Linda's husband.

I knew of the implications, but I wouldn't allow myself to accept what they must mean. It was a coincidence, nothing more.

Trey, watched for a moment, then slipped his jacket off and handed it to me. "Sorry, it's not much, but once the heater kicks in, I'm sure you'll be warm enough." He smiled at me, shifted the vehicle into gear, and started down the road.

"Is there somewhere I can take you Linda?" He asked glancing at me before returning his gaze to the road ahead.

I bit my lip and shook my head. "No, I'm not from around here and the truth is I'm not sure how I got here."

In a way, it was true, but it still seemed like a lie to my ears. I leaned forward and slipped his jacket on. Though huge on me, it did help warm me.

"It's funny we don't usually get rain like this. Doesn't look like it'll get better any time soon. I'll take you back to my place and get you some dry clothes. You look about the same size as my wife. We should be able to find you something."

"You're married?" I asked, thinking perhaps I'd encountered a different Trey Travis, but his answer shot that theory to hell.

"I used to be, she passed away last spring."

"S-sorry." I eyed him, another shudder rippling down my spine.

"You had no way of knowing. When we get there, I'll put in a call to Sheriff Riley. He's a friend of mine, if anyone out there is looking for you, he should be able to find out."

It made sense, from his perspective, if 'Linda' had gone missing someone might have filed a missing persons report. Linda hadn't existed until I'd woken up in that field, so any effort on their part would be a big old waste of time. If I felt guilty before it was nothing compared to the pit that formed in the bottom of my stomach.

"Do—," I glanced over at him my lips quivering. I never finished the sentence. I gritted my teeth suppressing the urge to break down in tears. Some people might think all the girly hormones now coursing through my new female body were responsible, but under the circumstances almost anyone would be bawling their eyes out.

The spell had transformed me into a woman and more than likely transported me back in time. On top of that, I had no legal identity. Which meant, no social security, no credit score and no citizenship. I was a man, make that woman, who had been cut off from everything and everyone I'd ever known. The chances of going back to my old life were slim to none and as miserable as it was, it had been familiar. Now that my whole life had been thrown out the window, I didn't have any idea what to do with myself. I'd seen grown men cry over less.

Hot tears stung my cheeks, and I hunched over just letting them come. Trey glanced over at me and smiled. "Hey now, it'll be all right. You hear me? We'll get this thing figured out."

His words actually helped provide some small comfort, but still I cried. Save for the occasional sob escaping my lips, we spent the rest of the car ride in silence. I leaned into Trey's side and he wrapped an arm around my waist. I wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, least of all myself, but it made my heart flutter. What the hell was wrong with me?

I stood staring at myself in the mirror and found myself looking at my reflection with wide eyes. The girl who looked back at me bore more than a passing resemblance to the Linda I'd known. The more time I spent in my new body the more I became convinced that I had, in fact, become her or, at least, a past version of her. I hadn't realized how much of a looker she'd been in her youth until I'd become her.

It had been more than a week, since Trey found me in that field and in that time I was no closer to wrapping my head around what happened.

In the short time since then, I played my cards well. The police, and the folks at the hospital had all bought my act. All I had to do was bat my eyelashes, and they fell for it it all hook, line and sinker. It was frightening how easy it had been. There had been a few local officers who expressed suspicion, but with no proof they dropped the matter.

Trey hauled me off to the hospital, and they did the obligatory physical examinations and the police took my fingerprints and ran a background check. They turned up nothing. Since I showed no signs of physical injury, the doctor's thought I might be suffering from dissociative amnesia, basically memory loss brought on by serious mental trauma I let them think that given that the alternative was a one-way trip to the loony bin.

I came up with some bullshit backstory about moving across the country to start a new life. Though 'Linda' remembered bits and pieces of her old life she didn't recall enough to be of any help. She possessed very little money and just enough cash to get where she needed to go, but even her destination she did not remember. When I woke up in the field, I had nothing and so neither did my new persona. Her car and what little money she had disappeared along with most of her memories or would have if they'd existed in the first place. The details didn't matter, it was just another damn lie anyway, but it ate me up inside. I kept hearing my mother's voice in my head telling me she had raised me better than that.

Trey offered to give me a place to stay until I got my feet off the ground and I accepted. Grateful for a place to stay, I took him up on his offer, but it made me uncomfortable as hell staying in the home of a strange man that wanted to fuck me. That wasn't even the worst part, though. I wanted to fuck him too.

When I peered back into the mirror, I shook my head, and cast such thoughts out of my head.

I bit my lip and began to unbutton the blouse I wore. It had been difficult, but I'd spent the time since my rescue avoiding even glancing in the direction of a mirror. I tried my damnedest to pretend that I was still regular old Harry, but Trey made that difficult, if not impossible. I ignored the fact that his eyes always seemed to focus on my chest, or at least I pretended to. I didn't blame him. If I were occupying the same space as the living personification of a goddess I would have a hard time keeping my eyes to myself too.

When I'd woken up that morning, I'd concluded that I wouldn't bury my head in the sand any longer and that was how I'd found myself looking in the mirror.

The clothes I wore, a button up blouse and a pair of sweats belonged to Tray's wife Mary, and they fit me rather well. I couldn't bring myself to wear any of her nightgowns, they'd all been so very feminine and it seemed wrong wearing something she'd worn in the bedroom. Every time I looked at them, I imagined Trey making love to her… and more often than not, me in her clothing.

I often fantasized about him, which disturbed me more than anything. Since, my transformation, I didn't have eyes for the fairer sex. Before my change, it had been easy to conjure images of myself making love to beautiful women, but try as I might I couldn't bring such fantasies to life inside of my mind. I even tried to arouse myself by thinking of some of my former girlfriends and what I'd done to them in bed, but it just didn't do it for me anymore.

Soon, the shirt was off and I found myself looking at a nice set of breasts in the mirror. I hadn't gotten around to getting fitted for a bra, and I'd been walking around with them hanging there on my chest unrestricted beneath my clothes. In times past, if I saw such a pair of glorious tits I would have found it difficult to keep my eyes off them, but while they held my rapt attention it was for very different reasons. I experienced no arousal whatsoever.

I looked young, perhaps in my early twenties, my breasts had not begun to sag. I'd regressed in age almost a decade, given a form that was vivacious in every sense of the word and while I think a lot of women would have been envious, all I experienced was disgust. Sometimes I didn't even feel like myself. Every movement, every sensation, seeming wrong.

I cupped my boobs, not for the first time, but with more attention to detail than before. They were firm, firmer than any set I'd ever laid hands on. Even ones half their size.

Next, I slid my hands down my side and unclasped the button on my jeans. I leaned over to slide them down my legs and glanced up at my reflection. It still unnerved me to see that girl in the mirror. I stood full upright and eyed her.

The only piece of clothing I wore were my panties. They would come off later once I'd gotten a better look at the rest of my body. My vulva would be too great of a distraction if it too were exposed.

If the spell had been designed to create my ideal woman, it couldn't have done any better. Before my transformation I liked my women soft, and Linda was exactly that. She wasn't fat, but nor was she skinny, merely what I would consider an ideal weight. Her hips were wide, and she possessed an ass that just didn't quit. She had slim shoulders, and hair done up in a masculine style exactly as it had been when I was male, save that it was now a fiery red where before it had been a dull brown. It seemed odd to me, that my haircut alone would be the only thing that had not changed, but it was the least of my worries.

There wasn't a single blemish on my entire body as far as I could tell. No cellulite, moles or a single freckle. I had the body the likes of which I had only believed existed in magazines until that day. Perhaps through surgery someone might achieve such a figure, but, it would take dozens of procedures to receive results that even came close to what I saw before me.

I stood holding my breath taking in every detail, every little curve for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably closer to a few seconds. Then, I let all the air out of my lungs and slipped my panties free from my waist and over my hips before letting them fall to the ground.

Like the rest of my physique, my vagina was, perhaps, too perfect, but as I stood there eying the god-forsaken thing in the mirror, I only hesitated for the briefest of seconds before plunging my finger inside. The sensations that arose were pleasurable.

My eyes widened, and I found thoughts of Trey coming to me unbidden. I pursed my lips, emitting a soft moan as I slid my finger in and out of my clit. Though I'd heard it said that arousal worked differently for women than it did in men, never until that moment did I realize how wide the gap was. I slid a hand up my chest and messaged my left nipple even as the other one worked its magic on my nether regions.

Things might have been taken a step further, had it not been for one thing. I sensed rather than saw, the doorknob moving and I turned just in time to witness the door swing open.

"Linda, I thou—" He stopped mid-sentence, and just stood there wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights.

My heart hammered in my chest and I too stood there frozen looking back at him with my jaw hanging open. In that moment, something changed in me.

It was sparked by the realization that I would never go back to being the person who I was before. It had only been a fluke that I'd discovered the catalog and it was unlikely I'd ever be able to track down another copy if it even existed yet. I could spend all my time living in denial or I could accept what the spell had done to me and move forward in my life.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd be in bed," Trey said still frozen in place.

What I did next surprised even me. I didn't attempt to cover myself, but instead sauntered toward him, my hips and ass swaying to some unheard tune. Though I'd seen women move like that before, never in my life would I have suspected I would be able to pull it off myself. I don't know if it was something that was natural to every woman, or if perhaps it was something that came with my hyper-sexualized body. The truth was I was beginning to care less and less.

I suspected that this change in attitudes may have been a side effect from the spell, and it scared me more than a little. That being said, there would be no stopping myself. I wanted Trey, no, I needed him to do things that would have been unthinkable just moments ago.

When I got close, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him toward me. He didn't resist and our lips locked, sharing a kiss that took my breath away. He put his arms around me, and soon I found myself spread full eagle atop the bed. I wasn't sure if I had pulled him toward it or if he had pushed me atop it, but either way the result was the same.

It didn't matter. All I knew was that he was on his knees atop the bed ready to fuck. My hands slid up his waistband, and I pulled his belt free and I tossed it sideways. I heard the buckle clink against the wall, but I neither saw nor cared where it landed.

Soon, I was looking at his cock, and a nervous grin spread across my face as he lowered his body and plunged it into me. If my eyes had been wide before, I'm sure, it was nothing compared to how they looked then. There was a pressure inside of me, a tightness that left me gasping for air. God it was amazing, and yet, it hurt a little too. His lips touched my neck, and his hands kneaded my breasts. I screamed out, in exquisite agony as he pulled out and plunged his member deep inside of me again.

I didn't have any idea how long we went at it. It might well have been hours or minutes. We did things to one another for which I didn't have words. I'd never made love so passionately. Which made me realize just how selfish I had been before my change. I released my load and been done with it.

It was clear Trey knew how to pleasure a woman and for that education I was very grateful. Never had I imagined what it must feel like for a woman nor had I imagined I would ever be so vocal. I couldn't help myself every time he kissed me in just the right place, my heart fluttered and my loins burned with desire. Sweat ran from every pour, as our passions evoked a heat the likes I had yet to experience. Bodily fluids dripped from every orifice, and every time his hands touched my breasts or slid down the nape of my back, I shivered.

When he released his load, and I found myself panting for air. He rolled off me and lay there looking up at the ceiling, my heart still hammering inside of my chest. I should have been in a frenzy, but all I felt was the warm afterglow of our lovemaking. Panic would come later.

The change that had come upon me when Trey and I had been making love was not something that I knew how to articulate, but it marked the beginning of the end for Harry and sparked my journey to becoming Linda. It didn't take place all at once, nor did I let it happen without a fight.

Three months came and went and, in that time, I'd almost gotten used to seeing Linda looking back at me in the mirror. I barely even thought of myself as Harry anymore, which was what terrified me. I'd had several periods and in an odd way I felt as if it was an initiation, but even so I was only just beginning to understand what it meant to be a woman.

Trey and I made love, frequently, and it was one of the few things that I didn't regret. He made me think that it might somehow all be worth it. When we fucked, it didn't matter if I was Harry or Linda. Everything just made sense. It was one of those times that helped put the final nail in Harry's coffin.

Trey spent his day off in the field tending to his animals and when he got back, I saw hunger in his eyes. I might have wondered what had ignited his interest, but I knew from the moment his eyes met mine that it was all me. I answered with the same hunger, damn near flying across the room to get to him.

Our lips locked and the next thing I knew I was down on my back atop the counter. That was another thing about our liaisons they weren't ever bound by the restrictions of a single room. Although, I must admit that this was the first time we'd fucked in the kitchen.

I shivered and shook my head, clearing my mind of distracting thoughts. It had been weeks since that event and the memory of it still burned bright in my mind. Our lovemaking had been passionate and wild. I'd been little better than an animal, but neither had Trey.

I looked down at the home pregnancy test clenched in my hands. In my time, they had come a long way from their earliest days. The one I was holding in my hands was among the first that had been commercially available in the United States. They'd only been out a few years and as yet hadn't evolved into the much simpler little sticks that my partners would use.

The whole process was easy, you put some pee, water, and the provided chemicals into the tube, shake the hell out of the thing and stand it up inside of the little case that came with it. Then you waited, two fucking hours. The waiting was the worst part.

This was only the second time I'd used one. The first being after the morning Trey had walked in on me naked and we'd made love for the first time. After that incident Trey used a condom, but when we fucked that day in the kitchen our passion got the better of us and we hadn't been thinking with our heads on straight.

I'd already waited the prerequisite two hours. So I looked into the little box, peering into the little mirror, and my breath caught in my throat.

I dropped it and it clinked and clattered on the hard linoleum floor. The vial fell out and rolled across the floor and I bent over to retrieve both. By some miracle neither broke, but truth be told, I kind of wish they had. At least then it would have given me something to do with my hands.

I leaned my back against the wall and sank down to my knees my heart hammering inside my chest. The results were correct, I knew it in my heart, but I damn well intended to get it confirmed by a doctor. I sat there for quite a while, before I stood up and tossed everything in the trash bin. If I waited too long Trey would come looking for me so I moved out of the bathroom heading down the hallway toward the kitchen where he was waiting.

I had a little casserole baking in the oven and Trey was seated at the kitchen table reading the paper, waiting for dinner to finish. He was often up before the local periodical arrived so it had become something of a habit for him to read it after he'd gotten home.

I sat across from him and just stared off into space. Trey didn't stop to greet me; we'd already shared our hellos at the door. He paused after a moment, lowered the paper down and eyed me. "Looks like they're renaming Old Fork Road, to Wilson Avenue."

Wilson Avenue was the name of the road they would eventually build my old apartment building on. Again, I held my breath, but I didn't say a word. The field I'd woken up on was Trey's property and I knew that it would become home to Shady Acres. Trey had inherited a pretty penny from his parents, a lot more than his neighbors new, far more than you'd expect from a simple farmer.

He eyed me, put down the paper and cleared his throat. "Linda, what wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I stared at him and shook my head hot tears stream drowning my cheeks. I opened my mouth, attempting to form the words, but I couldn't find the words.

"Linda what is it?" He asked again.

I let out a long sigh and forced myself to speak. "I-I'm pregnant."

Somehow, I hadn't seen it coming. Linda and Trey were Jared's parents. A part of me must have realized that if I stayed with Trey, I'd get myself knocked up, but I hadn't expected it so soon.

Trey didn't react as I expected. He was out of his seat, in a flash and pulled me up off my feet. He enfolded me in his arms and kissed me full on the lips. I melted in his arms and when we broke for air, I put my head on his shoulder.

"You gonna be okay?"

I nodded, my tears dripping down his chest. "The neighbors will talk."

The truth was the neighbors were already talking. Trey and I hadn't made our relationship a secret, and the town was mainly populated by Mormons and a handful Catholics so it went without being said our pre-marital activities would get the town gossip mill all in a flurry.

"Let them," he whispered, and I just stood there lost in his embrace. Whatever part of me that was still holding on to my masculinity faded away in that moment. For all intents and purposes, it was the final death knell for Harry. He would always be a part of me, but I would never think of myself as him again. I was Linda, and that was just fine.

"Trey, I love you." I spoke the words, without a moment's hesitation. I pulled away to gauge his reaction, both of my hands on his shoulders.

He stared at me for a moment, before a smile stretched across his face. "I love you too."

Crying anew, I collapsed into his arms. I wasn't crying out of fear or shock, but joy. For the first time, I thanked my lucky stars that I had found that catalog. I'd never been happier in all my life.

One thing was for certain, if I ever got a hold of that catalog, I knew a certain stairway where I could stash it.

I will be glad to answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is unintentional. If you see this story hosted any place aside from danielawolfe.com, Bigcloset Topshelf, TG Storytime, Fiction mania, or DeviantArt please let me know.

Gend-O-Matic

Melissa

“Ho, ho, oh no!” The fat bastard rolled out of the sled falling face first and produced a thud that shook the whole damn roof.

“Clumsy old coot,” I grumbled under my breath and hopped out of the sleigh to help my red velvet attired boss back to his feet.

Not that I was much fucking help. The old man was over three feet taller than me and weighed at least four times as much. Regardless the big man was back on his feet, velvet bag slung over his shoulder, staggering toward the chimney.

I shook my head, glanced about the roof, spotted Santa’s flask and swooped down to retrieve it. He must have dropped the damned thing when he took his little tumble. I glanced back at the big man, then opened the container and took a good whiff. “Say what you will about him, but the man has great taste,” I mumbled and took a sip of the whiskey inside.

“I wish he’d stop drinking on the fucking job.”

I slipped the flask into my belt, as elves do not have pockets, and turned back toward the chimney just in time to watch the big man disappear inside. For being so drunk, he sure seemed to haul major ass.

I grumbled a dozen or so choice curses under my breath, and followed suit, hopping inside with a single gravity-leap that no human could duplicate.

The thing about modern chimneys most people don’t realize is that although the opening atop the roof is wide, they taper down to a much smaller hole just big enough to let the smoke out. A mortal, even one who wasn’t a huge fat ass, like Santa, would never have been able to fit through. Lucky, for us, neither Santa nor myself were mortals.

When I emerged, I found the big man stumbling about and dragging the bag through the room while sloshing an open bottle of brandy all over Hal McCain’s living room carpet.

What the actual fuck? How the hell had he gotten hold of another damn bottle?

It hadn’t always been like this. In his heyday, Santa had been the jolly gift-giver of which the stories all spoke, but ever since he’d walked in on his old lady fucking the hell out of Jack Frost he hadn’t been the same. He’d picked up the bottle a few months after his wife left and hadn’t put it down since. That was a little over a decade ago and as you can image it had been a living hell.

It was about goddamned time someone put a stop to it. I clenched both fists at my side glowered at the fat son of a bitch and pounced on the fucker. Santa was even more bombed than usual, so it was damned easy to walk up and yank the bottle out of his wrinkled old hand, but I was so angry that I used a lot more force than I needed. For my troubles, I managed to splattering alcohol all over the front of my tunic.

“God dammit,” I cursed, wiping it off as best I could and glared up at ol’ Nick between gritted teeth. “Look man, this has gotta stop, I know you miss her, but, shit, look what you’re doing to yourself.”

Santa didn’t say a word, instead raising a single white-gloved hand, index-finger held up, swallowed hard and let out a belch to end all belches. Goddamned it smelled so bad it brought tears to my eyes.

Santa turned away and dug through his bag. At first, I assumed the asshole was retrieving gifts for Hal and his son but then the wily old bastard produced another bottle, this one filled with a pink fluid, from inside the sack.

There was a reason Santa could deliver so many gifts to the entire world without going to and from the North Pole hundreds of thousands of times a night. His sack wasn’t so much of a bag as a portal through space and time. He could reach through and retrieve any item inside the workshop. I’d once seen him pull a tool chest out to render repairs to his sled.

I should have figured he’d try something along those lines. That must have been how he’d gotten hold of the brandy. I cursed myself and extended a hand to grab the pink fluid out of his hands, but the old man jerked back before I could even get close.

What the hell kind of drink was it? Although elves enjoyed many fruity and sweet concoctions in our off hours, they were stored separately from the ones in the workshop. Despite the old man’s love of cookies and sweets, his taste in alcohol tended toward spirits and liqueurs. So, either, someone was sneaking drinks on the job or…

“Oh shit,” I cursed under my breath as realization dawned on me.

It wasn’t an alcoholic beverage that the old man had retrieved from the bag per se, but a potion and if I was right about which one I needed get it away from the big guy. I made another grab for the bottle, but he pushed me away. For my efforts I stumbled forward and fell flat on my face.

I scrambled back to my feet, but by then he’d already unstopped the bottle. My heart skipped a beat as he downed damn near half in one gulp.

Santa beamed down at me, and I stared back at him with wide eyes waiting for the changes to happen. The old fucker had no clue what he’d just consumed. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but as he brought the potion up to his lips, he grunted and jerked forward, collapsing to his knees.

I lurched forward, throwing my hands out to catch the potion as he fell, but not before I splattered the remaining contents all over the front of my tunic.

“Dammit all to hell,” I gritted my teeth attempting to wipe it away with my sleeve of my shirt, but it had already soaked through. It fizzled against my skin.

Santa groaned, and I stared up at him watching as his flesh rippled. I’d never seen the potion at work before, but I knew what to expect. It would be a quick transformation, but the process would be far from painless.

I watched my mouth agape as his bowl full of jelly, he had been so careful to maintained over so many centuries, dissolved into his body save for two lumps that rolled his now flat belly and into his chest taking up residence around his nipples. His pants fell down around his ankles and I could not look away though the old man wore no underwear.

His body creaked and popped and he fell onto his side and I could see his hips shifting around. Bones were shattering and re-fusing back together, I had no illusion that what he was experiencing was painful beyond imagining.

He gasped and moaned with each new change. His spine creaked, and it snapped inward curving and taking on a more feminine alignment. The old man’s arms came next, fat melted away bones and muscle popped and shifted. His nails jagged and dirty, smoothed out and grew out from his finger tips, taking on a glossy red cast that was the perfect match for his coat.

Everywhere the changes swept across his form, muscles and bones reformed, fat drained away and piece by piece his body became soft and very, very womanlike. I swallowed hard and watched as his shoulders, legs, feet and everything left in between succumbed to the magic of the potion.

He groaned, reaching for his crotch as his male parts shrunk into his body, in their place formed a vulva. His hands slipped away from his privates, up his chest and over his neck. He grabbed fistfuls of his beard hair and I watched tears streaming down my face as the hair fell to the ground revealing the face beneath. It was the countenance of a stranger, unassuming and average. No elf had gazed upon the beardless face of Saint Nicholas in living memory.

I stared into his eyes breath caught in my throat. He emitted another moan, but this time it sounded too soft… too feminine. I watched his facial features contort, and after his nose shrunk, his skin tightened, and his lips filled out I looked into the face of a very attractive young woman. The only familiar feature that remains was his bright blue eyes, and they had a sparkle to them I’d not seen in years.

Santa sighed, and pulled her stocking cap free from her head, white hairs fluttered to the ground at her feet and long brown hair exploded from her head in ringlets.

She glanced down at her hands, flexing her long delicate finger a slow smile forming on her face. I watched her climb to her feet, no longer lurching or jerking about. Her movements were fluid, relaxed, and very deliberate. I don’t know if the transformation had burned the alcohol out of her body or if it was a result of some other side effect, but it was clear it had sobered her up.

She stepped out of her boots, revealing her dainty feet resplendent in red nail polish.

I cleared my throat and Santa turned her head staring upon me with those sparkling blue eyes. “Santa… the Aphrodite formula. What have you done?”

“Ho, ho, ho.” It sounded so odd coming from such a feminine voice and yet… there was a merriness to it that only the true Santa could ever manage. She smirked at me, dropped her coat and I stood there cheeks burning as I stared upon her naked form.

I had never seen the like, elf women were stick thin and had little in the way of a figure. Santa, in her transformed body was not fat by any means, but she had curves. Her ass was round and her breasts were large. God, I wanted to squeeze them.

I coughed and turned away, my cheeks burning. God, this was Santa for hell sakes I couldn’t be thinking such thoughts about her even if she looked like that.

I sensed movement and risked another look. She snapped her fingers and her magic swirled to life all around her. Her coat, trousers and boots rose into the air spinning in a dizzying array of color. The coat and trousers wrapped around her body, conforming to her new curves, but not in their previous form. The fabric ripped and tore and wove back together, the white fur trim slithered along the outside of the hem taking up residence along the bottom of the new garment and around the neck in a V-shape that helped hold up the new dress.

It was a form-fitting sleeveless velvet dress that left little to the imagination. It accentuated her new curves rather than concealed them.

Her boots came next, splitting open and then wrapping around her feet. Twisting and contorting as they climbed up her legs stopping a few inches below her knees. The heels rose, and Santa stumbled forward, throwing a hand up to help balance herself. A pair of candy cane earrings appeared dangling from her ears. Her fingers touched her face and when she brought them away, I felt weak in the knees. She had been beautiful before, but with the cosmetics that now adorned her face she looked the part of a goddess.
I swallowed hard and glanced down at the bottle. They had abandoned the Aphrodite formula for good reason. The elves who’d created it hadn’t been able to reverse the effects. In small doses it would wear off in time, but Santa had consumed more than enough to make it permanent. Worse, it didn’t just transform the person who drank it, it made them like their new form and it made them libidinous… very libidinous.

“You know… Samson,” Santa bit her finger and smiled down at me. Her eyes sparkled, and I felt a sense of dread come over me as I recognized that look. “I believe Hal has been a very naughty boy this year.”
“Santa!” I called after her as she sashayed further into the McCain home. She’d already adjusted to her form, another effect of the potion. Her hips swayed with the casual and fluid grace of a natural born woman. “Please, let me take you back to the workshop. The elders can figure something out.”

My cries fell on deaf ears. I watched her disappear, then with the bottle still in hand, I growled under my breath and followed her. How the hell was I going to explain this? Santa turned into some sex crazed nympho? The elders would blame me, I knew it. They had commanded me to keep a close watch on Santa and keep her from doing anything too rash. This was not what anyone had expected, but it was rash.

When I caught up to her, I grabbed her hand and dug my heals in. “Please, stop!”

“Sammie,” she turned back and smiled down at me a hand touching reaching out to touch my cheek. She stood there staring into my eyes then glanced down at my chest where the alcohol and potion had soaked through the tunic. “It’s all right. You’ll understand soon.”

I stared at her mouth hanging open as she slipped her hand free and moved away. This time I didn’t stop her. It didn’t even occur. By the time I came to my senses she’d slipped into the master bedroom. Where Hal McCain, single father, slept.

My heart hammered in my chest as I looked inside. I knew what to expect, but even so I thought my eyes might pop out of my head when I saw her dress fall to the ground at her feet.

“Hal,” she called the name, a siren luring him back into the waking world. I opened my mouth ready to call out and remind Santa of her identity, but stopped when I felt a stabbing pain in the pit of my stomach. I hunched over, clutching at my gut, baffled. Another jolt, shot through my body and I bit my lip glancing down at the label on the bottle.

‘Aphrodite potion. Warning: Intended for human use only. Avoid skin contact.’

I swallowed hard and dropped the bottle, watching it shatter as my inside twisted and turned. My bones cracked and popped and piece by piece my flesh bent and contorted into unfamiliar new proportions. Unlike, my boss I did not have much fat on my body, but in most ways my transformation mirrored his. Instead of fat being repositioned or fading away, it materialized and expanded where my new proportions required it. My legs, torso and arm flashed in agony, snapping and popping as they extended out. I was growing beyond elf proportions.

When the transformation ended, I knelt panting and gasping for breathe. My tunic was so tight, it was all I could do to bring in breathe. I glanced down at my body and looked down at a set of large breasts. I gritted my teeth, straining to bring in air. My lungs burned.

I tore at the tunic, my heart hammering in my chest even quicker than before. Already strained by my change and torn in several places, the fabric gave way to my green-coated nails. As my new bosoms sprang free, I remained there taking in deep breaths.

When I caught my breath, I fell onto my rump, startled to realize I had a lot more padding than I was accustomed. I looked down, giving myself my first good look over. Like Santa, I’d taken on a far more voluptuous form. A nice rack, curved spine and an ass I could have sunk my teeth into. Not to mention I’d grown several feet. I looked like some ridiculous play thing. I slid a hand up the side of my head, slipping it under my new strawberry-blond locks to find purchase around my ears and let out a long sigh when my fingers touched the point. Though I had grown to human proportions, I’d retained the most important trait of elfhood.

I cupped my bare breasts and bit my lips feeling a slow smile creep onto my face. My mind raced as I felt a new stirring awaken within me.

Why had I been so terrified by Santa’s transformation? I felt amazing.

I heard moaning from the bedroom and peeked inside feeling my cheeks burn. Santa, and Hal were going at it like rabbits. He was coming down on her hard. I licked my lips and glanced down at myself one final time. God, I wanted to join in.

I rose to my feet and stepped into the doorway. Though, like Santa I could have snapped my fingers and transfigured my clothing, it would have been a wasted effort. I tore at the shredded remains of my tunic and let the pieces flutter to the ground in a trail behind me as I moved into the room. My tights came free, in shreds and clumps, already strained by my thick thighs and longer legs. My shoes burst open, unable to contain my new larger feet as I moved. Though short by human standards, I had gone from the size of a small toddler to a small adult human.

I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks burn as what I was about to do hit home. Not in my many thousands of years would I have ever once considered engaging in such acts. Samson was a dried up old prune, Sammie, on the other hand, was very horny.

A hand touched my thigh and my face stretched back into a smile as Santa pulled me toward the bed. All resistance melted away and soon I felt Santa’s soft lips on my breasts and Hal’s large dick throbbing inside me. Not once in centuries worth of existence have I felt such pleasure, nor had I ever screamed until my throat went raw.

I flexed my hands in front of my face, still not able to believe what I’d done, or I didn’t seem to mind. Glancing down at myself, my cheeks burned as some remnant of the old Samson rose to the surface. My old self would have died at the very thought of any elf wearing something so revealing, but now it seemed, almost natural.

I wore no shirt, or blouse, but instead a red and white stripped bra as a top. A matching set of stripped stockings covered my legs, and instead of the more tradition elf-shoes I now wore a pair of black stiletto heels. A green stocking cap adorned my head and instead of tights I wore a tight green mini skirt with white lace along the bottom and a traditional belt with a brass buckle to hold it up. I looked sexy as fuck and I didn’t feel at all ashamed to admit it to myself.

I watched Santa climb into the sleigh and felt my cheeks burn anew. Our relationship had taken an unexpected twist and nothing would ever be the same between us, but as I looked her over, I felt my breath catch in my throat. Before her transformation, Santa had been worn out and tired, within her new form I saw a renewed energy and vigor. Though she had changed in almost every way conceivable, in some ways I saw the old Santa returned.

There was that familiar child-like joy and merriment that had so defined her before Mrs. Claus betrayal and it warmed my heart to see it return. Even the reindeer had picked up on it, their heads perked up at the mere site of her. There was a magic bond between the animals and their mistress, one which ensured they would always know the Clause no matter what form she took.

Santa leaned forward and glanced at me licking her lips. She slipped a hand behind my back and pulled me forward, locking her lips around mind. She smelled of chocolate chip cookies and tasted of peppermints.

When we broke for air, I cleared my throat and peered out across the horizon. We had all the time in the world, amongst Santa’s abilities was the power to create bubbles of time. While the rest of the world remained frozen, Santa could get to work delivering presents and climbing down chimneys. Though I would have loved to strip Santa naked and fuck her silly, I felt compelled to continue onward. It was, after all, my sworn duty as one of Santa’s elves to help her deliver gifts. I bit my lip and turned back to the boss lady. “Where to now?”

Santa smirked, retrieving the reins and met my gaze. “Krissy Delaney. She’s been very naughty this year.”
My face lit up at the prospect as the sleigh lurched forward. Santa called out that all too familiar command. “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!”

It was the first time in decades, I’d heard her speak those words with such passion and joy. If I hadn’t been for the potion that might have been what had convinced me that Santa’s transformation was for the better, but after my metamorphosis I had needed no convincing.

I shuddered as he went hurtling through the air. Not from the cold, my magic protected me from even the harshest of winter weather. No, I trembled at the prospect of what a visit to Krissy Delaney would entail. She was a lingerie model and the Christmas Catalog she’d been featured in this year had been very popular among the younger male denizens of the North Pole this year. Not in my wildest fantasied had I ever dreamed she might give me the time of day, but I was confident that was no longer true. If she lived up to her reputation, I knew we could have a lot of fun.

I felt within myself a renewed appreciation and joy for the holiday that had become tedious. Something I’d not experienced since I was a young elf of just a few hundred years. Steeped in tradition, the elders would have their misgivings, but I knew where I could find a few more bottles of the Aphrodite formula. One way or another they would come around to our way of thinking. I licked my lips at the prospect and smiled. Christmas was about to become a whole lot sexier.

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As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own website, deviantart, danielawolfe.com, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, or tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Santa Babe 2: Elfsurrection By Daniela A. Wolfe After both Santa and herself undergo titillating transformations into buxom babes on Christmas Night, Sammie the Elf must confront the council of elven elders, but can she convince them that Santa in her sexy new form is an improvement on the old gift-giver or must she take more drastic action?

A slow smile found its way onto my lips, and I licked them winking at Arcadius Noel who kept sneaking furtive glances at my chest. I couldn’t say I blamed him, I wasn’t wearing much. A candy-stripe bra, matching leggings, black stiletto heels, an elf-green mini-dress, and a matching stocking cap were all that adorned my frame and a girl with my proportions was a rare sight in the North Pole. Elf women were flat-chested and possessed hips almost as narrow as their male counterparts. Transformed by the Aphrodite Potion, I was the epitome of feminine beauty. Was it any wonder the old elf couldn’t keep his eyes off me?

“Samson Twinklebottom!” Greogira Glittertoes screamed out at the head of the table.

I turned, clenching my jaw at her use of my former male name, and regarded her with cool eyes. Even before my change I had not cared for the elder, though the youngest of the council, she was the most conservative and the most steeped in tradition. She would, of course, be the one most threatened by my transformation.

I stood before the council of elders, the governing body of the Elves of the North Pole. One seat, remained empty, a padded, human-sized affair that belonged to Saint Nicholas, but given that our employer was the subject of this gathering, and her transformation from rotund sad sack to busty babe, it seemed doubtful she would be in attendance.

“I will not tolerate distractions!” Greogira added rising to her feet and peering across the table at me.

Though I now towered over her because of my transformation, I shrank back unprepared by the intensity of her gaze.

She might have been pretty if a scowl didn’t crease her ageless face, which was unmarred by wrinkles or age spots. Elves did not age in the way of humans. The only sign of the passage of time, was the gradual graying and eventual whitening of the hair, and among males, the ability to grow facial hair. All who sat on the council sported a shock of snow-white hair, and all save the councilwoman possessed a matching beard.

“Now, now, Greogira,” Bernaldo Mugginbubbles rose to his feet, a chiding tone in his deep baritone voice. “Do remember that young Samson, is under the influence of a powerful magic.”

Greogira glowered at him, but only regarded him for a second before returning her attention back to me, her scowl deepening tenfold. “You have failed to carry out your duties as a helper elf. We tasked you to watch over the Santa Claus, ensuring only that he completed his gift-giving role and not get into any mischief. You have allowed both yourself and our exalted leader to be transformed into some kind of sex-crazed bimbos by that insidious concoction and have jeopardized everything toward which elfkind has worked for these countless centuries. Do you not understand the seriousness of this situation?”

I gritted my teeth, my anger simmering just below the surface. Though Santa was quick to jump in bed and delighted in her new appearance, she was far from a bimbo and was not intellectually deficient. The potion did not diminish intelligence or change an individual’s overall personality. Yes, Santa possessed the same body and sex-drive as a centerfold in a dirty magazine, but every attribute that made her the Claus was still there. She was just wrapped in a prettier package.

Until her transformation, Santa had been a drunken shell of her former self, but walking in on your wife of countless centuries boinking Jack Frost would do that to a fellow. The new Santa was most definitely an improvement. Something about her transformation had brought that glimmer of child-like joy back into her eyes. She had been just doing the motions for so long, I’d almost forgotten what the old Santa had been like.

Hands caressed my shoulders, and I shivered as lips brushed my neck. I turned, a smile creasing my lips as I met Santa’s gaze. She wore the same white-trimmed red-velvet minidress and knee-length boot she’d been sporting while delivering gifts and a shiver worked its way down my spine at the sight of her.

Just a day ago, the mere thought of Santa transforming into this leggy brunette with wide-hips and large breasts would have seemed laughable, but now that the change had come about I couldn’t imagine her any other way.

“They won’t know what hit them,” I whispered, kissing her on the lips. I closed my eyes, letting myself be swept away by the sensations. When she pulled away, I didn’t want it to stop, but I bit back my disappointment and watched her saunter toward the council of elders.

“Nicholas,” Greogira nodded at Santa, her expression blank, but fire still smoldering in her eyes. “I was just—”

“Greogira,” Santa said her otherwise plump lips pressed into thin lines. “There’s no need for a recap, I heard everything.”

Greogira flinched as if Santa dealt her a physical blow, her whole body trembling. In living memory no elf had crossed Santa. Even for her to say as much as she already had bordered on scandalous. Even now, facing Santa in her new feminine form she could not bring herself to speak against the old gift-giver.

There was a scuffle and a clatter behind the old elf, and Greogira turned revealing the slender form of Eros Butterbee, with a tray of drinks and pastries. “Um, mistress I thought you might be hungry.”

Butterbee was the shortest elf I’d ever met, a mere eighteen inches tall, he was more than a century older than me. He worked in the kitchens, a thankless job that kept him busy throughout the seasons feeding the army of hungry elves, but one which he seemed to enjoy.

“Thank you, Butterbee.” Greogira eyed the diminutive elf before waving him off with a disdainful flick of her wrists. “Begone.”

The kitchen elf, glanced toward Santa and me and set the tray on the table, a strange mix of wonder and confusion in his eyes, before he scurried away and disappeared from sight. Santa furrowed her brows, peering at me, but if she knew what I had planned she didn’t say a word.

Elves love sweets so much, we eat almost nothing else. As magical creatures we aren’t susceptible to human failings like diabetes or tooth decay and given that we had a sweet tooth that surpassed even that of the most voracious of human children, we indulge whenever possible. Even a sourpuss like Greogira would not let the opportunity to treat herself to a pastry or a piece of candy slip by.

Greogira selected a tall goblet, no doubt filled with some fruity sugar-coma-inducing concoction, and a danish, before passing the tray along to Wilbur Jellyfluff, the only member of the council who had yet to speak up. Jellyfluff made his own selections before passing his tray onward, nibbling on a cherry tart as he rose to his feet.

I eyed the tall elf, my heart skipping a beat watching him nibble and waited on bated breath to see what would happen. My head jerked sideways and I regarded Santa, but she did not turn to meet my gaze. We separated the moment we’d returned to the North Pole and I had just enough time to nab some potion and enlist Eros Butterbee’s aid before the council had summoned me. I’d thought to inform Santa of my plans before then, but the opportunity had not presented itself. In any case, she would discover the truth soon enough.

At almost four feet tall, Wilbur Jellyfluff cut an imposing figure for an elf, and he was the most well loved among the council members, but he too was a traditionalist albeit one with a kinder disposition than Greogira.

“Nicholas,” a gentle smile stretched across his face. “What are we to do with you?”

“Exactly what we’ve always done, Wil,” Santa answered back massaging her neck and emitting a soft moan. “You make the toys and I deliver them, but please won’t you call me Nikki?”

“This won’t do, I’m afraid. Greogira despite her lack of tact is right. Imagine the scandal it will generate amongst the mortals. Santa Claus become a sex-object? We’ll never hear the end of it from the social justice warriors or the Christian fanatics. Allow us to examine you, perhaps with some time we might undo the effects of the Aphrodite formula and return you to your proper form.”

Santa narrowed her eyes, and clenched her fists at her side, regarding the council of elders between gritted teeth. “For over a decade you have let me drink myself into a stupor, not once attempting to render the aid and compassion I needed. Now, that I have been reborn, and found a new measure of happiness, you wish to take it away from me? No, Wilbur, I won’t allow it.”

“Then we—.” Jellyfluff groaned and hunched over clutching at his stomach. He collapsed atop the table before him, tart dropping from his hand, its cherry filling splattering all over the ground.

Greogira and Bernaldo were on their feet and moving toward the other council member, but the former soon hunched over, disappearing from view on the other side of the table shrieks of pain reverberating through the chamber. The latter fell to his knees, the skin on his face rippled and contorted and a soft and far too feminine moan escaped his lips.

Only Arcadius Noel remained seated, throwing out both hands and howled in agony as he too underwent the first stages of his transformation.

Wilbur shrieked and I turned back in time to watch him jerk back to his feet. His arms flailing about and grappling with the front of his tunic. He pulled it free just in time, for a budding set of breasts to materialize upon his flat hairless Elven chest. His bones cracked and popped as his torso extended, and he fell chest first, atop the tabletop. Hips exploded outward, fat appearing as if from nowhere his stockings ripping open unable to accommodate his burgeoning human-sized and very feminine proportions.

Greogira raised her head then, sporting a head of chestnut-brown hair, and threw a set of human-length arms across the table to balance her tiny Elven frame. She moaned, her frame shooting up as her legs and torso extended outward, just moments before her breasts and hips swelled to match her enlarged frame. She groaned and collapsed atop the table her transformation, less severe and thus complete.

Wilbur howled once more, bearded face contorting as hair began to fall from it in clumps, revealing his flat unremarkable features. A loud crunch sounded and his face bubbled out, growing to match his already human-sized form, but also becoming softer and rounder. His large flat nose, reshaped and remolded itself, worry-lines smoothed out and as his snow-white hair disappeared altogether, honey blonde hair spilled out in ringlets, cascading past his shoulders and down his back. Thin lips plumped out and a low and still very masculine moan escaped his lips. Then his voice, cracked and his prominent Adam’s apple receded into his throat disappearing altogether. He jerked, a loud pop reverberating through his spine, and he leaned forward, emitting a much more suitable feminine groan as his spine curved and his posterior ballooned out.

A scream sounded from the end of the table and Arcadius Noel lurched forward falling across the table and over the side, rolling onto his back. I knelt down beside him, surprised to find that there was only the barest hint that potion had begun its work on him. I don’t know if there was something he’d consumed that might have slowed down the progress or if perhaps something about his physiology had caused it, but whatever it was, it didn’t last much longer.

Bones snapped and popped and I reached out cupping both hands around one of his, smiling down at him in reassurance. I’d undergone a very similar transformation, and I understood all too well how painful it could be. That beings said, I would not take back what had happened to me for all the world.

For whatever reason, the order in which someone transformed varied from person to person. I soon found his hand, ballooning out within my own, but neither of his arms nor his other hand followed instead, his face rearranged itself. His flowing white beard, maintained over so many centuries fluttered away, seeming to disappear into the open air. His rugged, sharp-edge features dissolved, and his long comically over-sized nose shrunk down even as the rest of his face expanded outward. Fire-red hair spilled out from atop his head stopping at his shoulders. Lips parted, but no sound escaped instead they plumped out, and a crack resounded inside his neck as it reshaped itself.

Arcadius’ left hip swelled out, stretching his tights until they tore open, but the right side did not follow, at least, not yet. One side of his chest, expanded and I slid my hands out, cutting opened the front of his tunic with a work knife procured from within my left boot, to make room for his contorting proportions. The right side of his chest ballooned out, a single breast occupying his otherwise flat chest. His arm came next, at last stretching out to the proper proportions for his hand. The second arm followed, but this time the changes stopped when they reached his wrist.

A waistline, previously untouched, expanded outward, narrow by human standards, but much wider than any elf alive possessed. At last, his other boob swelled out to the same size as the first and granted his form a degree of symmetry. His torso extended outward and first one leg then the other stretched out to match it, before her last hand creaked and popped coming to match the first.

Arcadius screamed, a high-pitched wail so loud, it forced me to cover my ears. He grappled at his privates and I watched unable to keep myself from shivering in anticipation as I realized how close he was to completing his transformation. Soon, he emitted a long breath of air and his attention shifted from the space between his legs to his remaining hip which had swollen outward. My attention, however remained on his privates where the outline of a lovely camel toe showed beneath his hosiery. Soon, Arcadius had completed his transformation, his spine realigned to more feminine proportions and his feet, swollen to a size more befitting his taller frame. I beamed down at him and held a hand out.

He hesitated and then grasped my outstretched hand, his or rather her, bare chest jiggling like a bowl full of jelly as she rose to her feet. A hand, again, touched my shoulder and I turned to regard Santa swallowing hard. Her eyes were wide, shock reflected at me.

Nikki turned, and my eyes followed her gaze. Greogira, Wilbur, and another young woman, sporting a shock of long raven-black hair that fell well past her knees, I assumed was Bernaldo, approached. Though each had grown to more human proportions, a side-effect of using a potion intended for humans, Bernaldo was the shortest of the three coming in at just under four and a half feet tall. Greogira stood only a few inches taller, and Bernaldo towered over the pair of them almost six feet tall. They looked human for the most part, save for their ears which kept their telltale pointy tip.

A familiar scowl marked Greogira’s face, but it did not mar her features as it did before. Still recognizable, her features had nonetheless softened and there was no doubt that she was beautiful, even with her teeth clenched. It did however, make her seem less the wrathful elder and more a petulant child. Wilbur approached with a frown one hand kneading an exposed breast. Bernaldo followed not even looking up one arm folded across her chest, the other clasped over her vulva offering only a modicum of modesty and her cheeks turned such a bright shade of red it was a close match to tattered remnants of her scarlet tunic.

“This only proves our point!” Greogira said jabbing a finger into Santa’s chest. Whatever reservations she had about confronting Nikki had evaporated away with her transformation. “The Aphrodite Potion has clearly affected your judgement. Nicholas would have never drugged one of his elves let alone four of us.”

“That was my doing.” I smiled stepping between Nikki and Greogira.

“Regardless, even you Samson would not stoop so low,” Greogira countered this time rounding on me.

“I-I don’t know,” Wilbur said slipping a hand between her legs as a dreamy smile stretched across her lips. “It feels pretty good.”

Greogira snapped her head around, both hands on her hips as she stared at her peer with wide eyes. “Get a grip on yourself Wilbur, the potion is messing with your mind.”

Wilbur smiled a soft moan escaping her lips as two fingers caressing the insides of her lady parts. Greogira rounded on her, latching both hands around the other elder’s arms and shook her so hard the other’s head snapped back. Wilbur, stared at her wide-eyed and I thought for a second she might have reached her, but then the dreamy smile returned and Wilbur leaned in to kiss the other woman.

Greogira stiffened like a plank, even her lips remained frozen in place, but her resistance soon melted away against the other woman’s continued efforts. As they broke for air, a soft moan escaped her lips. “I never imagined.” She shivered, biting her lip and took several steps back.

I folded both arms across my chest and smiled, regarding Greogira and each of the new women my eyes lingering on Bernaldo who still refused to make eye contact with any of them. “You’ve each received a small dose of the Aphrodite formula. In a few hours, or a few days, depending on how much you consumed you should revert to your original forms.” I slipped a hand inside my bra, producing four small vials of a familiar pink fluid. “Should you wish to make the change permanent, I do believe we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

Arcadius who had remained off to the side throughout the confrontation, peering down at her hands and shook her head. “I can sense them, the sensations, the desires swelling within me. It terrifies me, but…” She lurched forward, and whipped a hand out, sliding one of the vials from my outstretched hand, pulled the stopper free and downed it in one gulp. “I never want to go back. It feels too good.”

We all peered at her with wide eyes. For Arcadius to make such a quick snap-judgement seemed so unlike the brooding, taciturn man we all knew. She licked her lips and peered at me with an arched eyebrow a suggestive smile creeping its way onto her face. “There isn’t a male version of the Aphrodite formula sitting about is there? I would dearly love to spend some alone time with a nice big hunk of a man, if you catch my drift.”

“No, but with your support, I’d like to resume production of the Aphrodite formula. If we bring the original creators onboard, I’m sure they can… come up with something that will whet your appetite.” Santa cleared her throat, answering before I even had a chance, her ruby red lips stretching into a smile.

At this pronouncement, Bernaldo’s head jerked up, and she peered about glancing at all of us. She didn’t speak a word. Instead, she took several steps back, spun around on the balls of her feet and took off running her long locks trailing after her. The look on her face telling me all I needed to know.

I watched her depart, then paused long enough to slip all but one of the remaining vials into Santa’s hands and took off after her. I knew all too well what she must be going through and could guess why she’d fled. That being said, if she reverted to her old form, she could rally the rest of the denizens of the North Pole against us and ruin everything. That I could not allow.

As you might imagine, running in stilettos is damn near impossible, a fact I came to realize as I burst out of the council chambers and face-planted onto the hardwood floor. The resulting flash of agony from my chest left me breathless for several long minutes. I groaned, rolled onto my back, hugged my knees against the chest, gritted my teeth against the resulting burst of pain, unclasped the straps holding the shoes in place and tossed them aside. I lurched back to my feet prepared to resume my pursuit, but the corridors were silent and I could detect no sign of the elder elf’s passing.

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, again ignoring the resulting flash of pain, my mind racing as I tried to put myself into Bernaldo’s mind. She might have gone for help, but I knew precious little about her. The elves did not possess any policing agencies, lawlessness was not a predilection toward which we were inclined. So, she would flee to the home of a friend or family member or… I stopped a smile creeping across my lips as realization dawned on me. She wasn’t running with any plan in mind; she was fleeing out of fear. No, it seemed far more likely she would return home and since I knew she never married, it seemed unlikely there would be anyone waiting for her when she reached her destination.

I took off running barefooted and better able to keep my balance, but unprepared for how much my bounteous chest would bounce while I moved. I could measure my time spent in my female form in hours, not days or months. The Aphrodite formula granted me a fair bit of confidence and understanding of how to move in my new form, but familiarity was not something I'd developed just yet.

I burst out of the exit, shivering against the cold, bare feet pounding against the frost-covered peppermint-striped pavement, bouncing breasts aching with each new movement. Still, I kept running my feet raw and scuffed and heart hammering in my chest. Soon enough, I caught site of footprints in the snow, toward Bernaldo’s cottage and I veered off catching my second wind as I went tearing thorough the winter landscape.

No elf had feet that large. In her eagerness to get home, Bernaldo had elected to take a more direct path and had given herself away. I guessed right in assuming she would flee to her cottage instead of seeking aid.

I reached the house a few moments later and stepped onto the porch, hesitating as I reached for the doorknob. This felt wrong, Bernaldo had done nothing to harm me and I doubted she would seek aid once she’d sequestered herself within her cottage. Maybe, I was approaching this from the wrong angle, I mused, hand turning the doorknob. The potion transformed her, in the same way it changed me just a short time ago. She needed my help, and here I’d been chasing after her as if she were a convicted felon.

I slipped inside the door with no issue. As I said earlier, crime did not exist within the North Pole and we respected each other's privacy… mostly. I closed the door behind me, and paused just inside listening for sounds of movement, my keen Elven ears picked something up within seconds and I crept deeper inside, eyes scanning the interior.

Bernaldo’s cottage was small, and I made my way to the back, stopping just outside a door, through the cracks of which light poured through. I put my ear to its hardwood surface, and a muffled sob spilled through. Waiting no longer, I turned the knob and stepped inside. The other elf was slumped on the ground, still wearing the tattered remains of her tunic and tights. She lurched to her feet ready to bolt for the door when she caught sight of me.

I held my hands up and out, taking careful steps before swinging the door shut with the back of my elbow. “Look, I know you’re afraid, and confused as hell, but I can help you. I went through it myself last night,” I said realizing that it was now well into the early morning hours as I spoke. “I don’t want to—”

“Fuck me,” she yelled, screaming out at the top of her lungs, eyes wide and looking for all the world like an animal confronting a predator. “I can’t contain it anymore, just help me release it.”

The Aphrodite formula had that affect. Santa had gone through her own metamorphosis while delivering presents to a widower and his young children. It had taken her less than a minute to seduce him, and moments later when I underwent my change it had taken little for me to join in. Over the course of the night, Santa and I had seduced a lingerie model, a college freshman, and a set of identical twins. Not to mention the number of times we’d fucked or made out inside the sleigh between stops.

Bernaldo straightened and the terror that marked her face before, faded away. She smiled and sauntered toward me, her lips finding purchase around mine. When she broke for air, she pushed me down atop her bed, in the back of my mind it occurred to me that it was much too small for our human-sized frames, but she was already unclasping my bra. Her lips, were soon kissing my breasts, and when she plunged her fingers inside my clit the pleasure that followed was indescribable.

I sat up, a soft groan escaping my lips as I fought to come awake. Hair covered my face and I reached out collecting it with my hands before slipping it behind my ears. That seemed odd, but I was pretty much dead in the water so I couldn’t quite grasp why. I peered down at my chest, sucking in my breath as I looked down at a pair of bare breasts protruding from my chest.
It all came back to me then, and a slow smile crept onto my face as I recalled my transformation and all the fun I’d had since taking on my new form. I cupped my melons and craned my neck about eyes scanning the room for my discarded clothing and Bernaldo. Neither were in evidence, nor was the vial of Aphrodite formula.

There were blankets and pillows strewn about the place and I didn’t care to dig through them to retrieve the discarded articles of clothing. Modesty didn’t have the same hold on me as it had before my change and so I shrugged and slipped out of bed, peering about the room one final time before sauntering through the doorway.

I found Bernaldo in the living room seated atop an old couch, a vial of pink fluid clutched in her hands. She’d yet to revert to her male form, and she looked out of place perched atop the elf-sized sofa. The other elf looked up at me as I approached, and I seated myself beside her and smiled.

“This isn’t me,” she said motioning down at herself tears rolling down her cheeks. “But I want it to be too much. It terrifies me, that if I take this I’ll lose myself, that I’ll give myself over to the desires and urges of this body. Like I did last night.”

“So?” I asked peering back at her. “What’s wrong with having a little fun? You’re still you, you’re just in a prettier wrapper. Last night, I saw Santa returned, the drunken bitter jackass I’ve had to contend with the last ten years gone, and the Jolly gift-giver of old returned. She is the Clause, just as I am that moldy old stick in the mud Samson, I happen to be a fair bit easier on the eyes and will fuck almost anything that walks on two legs. My appearance and sex drive doesn’t change who I am… it makes things more interesting.”

Bernaldo bowed her head, but didn’t speak again. I reached over, sliding the vial from her hands and held it in front of her face. “Look, if you don’t want it, that’s fine. Give Santa your full support and—”

Bernaldo sobbed and I froze watching her shake her head. “I’ve been alone so long I forgot what it felt like to hold another in my arms.”

She reached for the vial and I let her have it. Again, she held it before her and she tightened her grip pulled her arm back and I tensed expecting her to throw it across the room. She peered at me, sighed, and uncorked the bottle, downing the contents in one gulp. She looked back at me, eyes wide and her hands shaking. The vial clattered to the ground shattering at her feet.

“You won’t regret it,” I smirked, pecked her on the cheek and glanced back over my shoulder toward the bedroom door. Perhaps a little celebration was in order, but before I could voice this thought a series of dull thumps sounded from the exterior door.

I kissed her again, this time on the lips and rose to my feet. Bernaldo was still in something of a fragile state and I don’t believe she was quite ready to entertain. “You stay there, I’ll get it.”

I swung the door open and found myself peering down at a minuscule little morsel. An elf who’d undergone the transformative effects of the Aphrodite formula, but one who was a fair bit shorter than any of the others at a mere three feet. She froze staring up at my bare chest, and I bit my lip only then realizing that I was still naked.

“Sammie!” She beamed up at me, gazing at my figure with an appreciative expression. “It’s me, Eros! I'm going by Daisy now!”

I bit my lips waving her inside the cottage. Eros or rather Daisy Butterbee had been far more eager to help me than I expected and when she named her price I’d been more than a little flabbergasted. She wanted a full dose of the potion for herself, something I’d not expected of her, but when she confided in me she had long been fostering a secret yearning to be female, I was more than happy to accommodate her.

“Is it done?” I asked slamming the door shut behind her and shivered against the cold.

Butterbee nodded, eyes locking on Bernaldo on the couch. “How about you, any luck?”

“Yeah,” I replied arms folded across my chest smirking back at Bernaldo.

“Great!” Butterbee beamed, pulled her top over her head and tossed it aside with a flick of her wrists. “I’ve been itching to give this new body a whirl.”

Bernaldo regarded her a moment before dashing to her feet, scooped the diminutive elfup, and carried her into the bedroom without a word. I stared after them, my smirk stretching into a grin as Bernaldo’s moans sounded through the doorway. I sauntered into the room, eager to join in and soon she wasn’t the only elf screaming out in pleasure.

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only deviantart, danielawolfe.com, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, or tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story or any of my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Honey Bunny By Daniela A. Wolfe When a package arrives from the North Pole, Jack the bunny mistakes the contents for an ordinary albeit sweet-smelling alcoholic beverage, but when he and his friend Esther partake, they find that it has some interesting effects.

Author's Note:

This story was originally posted on my website, danielawolfe.com.

This tale is set in the same story universe as both of my Santa Babe stories, but can be read as a standalone. Like those stories it is a bit more graphic and fetishy than my usual stuff. This time around, the story features Anthropomorphic rabbits, basically Easter Bunnies who transform (more or less) into humans. It also contains very light female domination.

"Jack." Peter rolled his eyes, speaking with a forced almost condescending tone, a fat hand motioning with a broad sweeping gesture. "I get where you're coming from, I really do, but children these days don't care about this stuff." The other rabbit lifted the egg from the display stand, fingering it idly, a frown, or a close approximation of one, creasing his short snout and tossed it into the waste bin beside his desk.

I leaned back in my seat and rocked my head back and forth, fighting hard to keep my anger from showing on my face. Egg-painting had become something of a lost art among the bunnies of the Spring Valley Warren. It was a tragedy we'd been so quick to discard our traditions to appease the humans.

My father would be hanging his head in shame if he were alive to see Peter, his chosen successor, disregard our people's ancient customs with such callous indifference. It was too bad I'd been so uninterested in succeeding my father in my youth. Perhaps things would be different if I had followed in his footsteps like he wanted me to.

"I realize your dad was into this stuff and I understand you want to honor him, but we're in the business of bringing happiness and joy to all the children of this region. That is particularly important with this pandemic that is spreading all over the world."

I folded my arms across my chest and sighed.

We were just one conclave of Easter bunnies. Though we possessed a modicum of magic, it wasn't quite on the scale of our Christmas counterpart, the Santa Claus. We couldn't freeze time, or travel at rocket speeds. Instead, we traversed The Burrows, a system of magical tunnels capable of transporting us substantial distances in a fraction of time. It was one thing to send a bunny from Germany to Bavaria, it was another matter to send one clear across the Atlantic Ocean.

When the Easter traditions spread to the Americas, our brothers and sisters in Europe became overwhelmed by the demands for their services. So our ancestors founded new warrens, each with their own 'Easter Bunny' calling the shots and overseeing the operations of the entire warren. Though humans couldn't distinguish the difference between a helper bunny and our exalted leader, in our case Peter, no rabbit of the warren would dare refer to themselves as The Easter Bunny, we were mere helpers.

"Look, would you just drop this shit and get back to work? Easter is less than a week away and we have a deadline to meet." Peter adjusted his reading glasses and returned his attention to the stack of papers on his desk. In his mind, he'd already dismissed me. I supposed I should be thankful. Most times he yelled at me. Compared to our previous encounters, this one was downright friendly.

I rose to my feet, collecting the display stand and my basket of eggs, then retreated from the office, head hanging between my shoulders. This was not my first attempt at trying to revive our people's egg-painting traditions, and it had been no less successful than the previous ones. This time, I had taken months learning and honing my skills, hoping that a demonstration might sway Peter better than words had, but as usual he'd been more interested in deadlines and paperwork.

I cursed myself and retreated home. My work shift would begin in less than an hour and if I wasn't on the factory floor, there would be hell to pay. The other rabbit was a stickler for tardiness and I still needed to complete a few tasks at home.

Work was sure to be hell, I doubt I'd heard the last from Peter. Even on the best days, he bullied and demeaned me. I was, after all, his favorite target.

"Hey Jack," a sweet feminine voice spoke out of the fog of my funk and my head jerked up, eyes focusing to find a familiar face staring back at me.

"Hey Esther," I glanced up at her, a long plaintive sigh escaping my mouth.

Esther worked for the Inter-warren Postal Service, and my place was the last on her route, so I frequently ran into her on the way home from work.

"Bad day on the production line?" Esther asked, hand grappling inside of her mail bag.

That was an understatement, Peter had been on my ass from the moment I stepped out on the floor. He'd gotten me so self-conscious I'd gotten the mixture wrong on one of the machines and ruined an entire batch of chocolates. Peter had erupted in a fit of rage, humiliating me in front of the entire factory floor. I was lucky he hadn't fired me on the spot, but then he would have lost his favorite little punching bag. Instead, he docked my pay and put me at the top of the overtime list for the next three weeks.

I peered around, realizing that I was just a few doors down from my place. I'd been pretty much on autopilot since the fiasco at work, and my walk home through the tunnels had been no exception. My eyes settled on each of the brightly decorated holes, festooned with the bright pastel colors of Easter, and sighed when my eyes fell on my home. Caught up with my egg painting I'd neglected decorating my place which, I doubt, would win me friends with any of my neighbors.

"Uh," I scratched my neck, doing my best to avoid making eye contact with Esther.

"Oh, God," she groaned. "Don't tell me you went to Peter about the eggs, again."

"Guilty," I grimaced, dropping both my hands and cupping my face.

She sighed and reached out to pull my hands away from my face. "Okay, tell you what. Why don't I come over tonight? I can cook you a nice homemade meal and we can have a long chat and I'll help you forget all about it." A coy smile spread over her muzzle and she raised a single eyebrow as her fingers traced over my chest.

I froze, mouth agape, and stood there like a jack ass. Esther was a friend, a good one, but I'd never considered her to be anything else. I never thought of her that way, even if I had, I doubt I would have worked up the nerve to ask her out.

She raised an open palm, tilted my chin up, forced my mouth closed and smiled. "Well?"

"Uh, yeah sure," I replied letting loose a nervous little chuckle.

"Great!" She beamed. "I'll be over say, eight?"

I nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. She turned to leave, then turned back, reaching inside of her bag. "Hey, you don't mind saving me a few steps and taking your mail now do you?

I nodded, smacking my lips. My mouth seemed just a little dry. She slipped my mail into my hands and leaned in to peck me on the cheeks. She didn't say another word, but winked at me and started walking away. I watched her depart, her nice hips swaying as she walked. I swallowed, and started back toward my place, numb to everything but the memory of her lips on my cheek.

Not until I got back home did I realize I was holding a christmas-red package about eight-inches long, about half as wide and deep and pretty damned hefty. I set the envelopes down on the counter and eyed the package, examining the flowing script on the tag.

Samson, I mused, eying the box. A few years back, the Santa Claus and Samson, one of his helper elves, paid a visit to our little burrow on a diplomatic visit, and the old man had spent most of the trip in an out of the way drinking hole on the other side of the warren, blind stinking drunk. I'd had the unfortunate privilege of spending his entire trip babysitting the miserable old bastard.

The only plus side was I'd gotten to know Samson and he seemed like a pretty stand-up guy. We'd corresponded when possible and gotten to be friends. It had been a while since I'd heard from the wry little elf, but it appeared he'd at last gotten around to answering my last letter.

The return label was written in a flourishing script I recognized as the elf's, but oddly he'd signed it Sammie Twinklebottom instead of Samson, and it looked a little more bubbly and feminine then I remembered. Still, I didn't think much of it at the time, my thoughts still on Esther.

I plopped the box atop the counter, pulled the ribbon and tape off and popped it open to reveal two liquid-filled bottles nestled within. The fluid inside the first of the odd rectangular containers was baby blue and the other, a soft powder-pink. Though I didn't take time to read the letter in the sealed envelope wedged between the pair of bottles, I had a good idea what they contained.

Knowing Samson, I guessed it to be some kind of liqueur, the elves loved their spirits and they liked them sweet. During Santa's first day at the bar, Samson spent twenty minutes complaining about the old man's alcoholism while sneaking sips of something sweet smelling from his flask. He was an odd fellow to be sure, but I'd enjoyed his company.

The trouble was his taste in beverages, were just a tad sweet for my tastes and considering I devoted most of my days to filling chocolates into molds that said something. I pulled the bottles from the box, and slipped them inside the cupboard, retrieved the envelope with Samson's letter and tossed the box into the garbage pail which was heaped so high, the package just tumbled to the ground.

I winced, peering around at my pig sty of a kitchen. A mixed assortment of cooking and egg-painting implements covered most of the counter space and about half of the tabletop and the sink was so full of dirty dishes I'd pretty much given up on using the faucet for the foreseeable future. I couldn't tell you the last time I'd swept or done the dishes, but it had been at least a month. Needless to say, I had my work cut out for me.

I sighed, shaking my head. Already forming a plan. My mental checklist of chores supplanted thoughts of the package and it slipped from my mind.

I didn't read the note until much later and by then it was too late. As much as I enjoyed the cranky elf's letters, Samson tended to be a bit of a windbag. If I knew then what I know now, things would have turned out a fair bit different.

I retreated to my room, dropping the letter on my night stand, and retrieved a spare set of clothes, tossed them into the bathroom and got to work cleaning. I'd need to hurry if I were to get everything cleaned and still have time for a shower.

"Hey." Esther stood in the doorway, paper sack clutched in both hands. I stared, jaw going slack. She wore a rather simple skirt and blouse combination. The entire time I'd known her, which had been most of my life, I hadn't once seen her wear anything so feminine. Though it was simple, it looked good on her, and hugged her curves in interesting ways.

"Jack? You gonna ask me in?" She leaned forward, glancing through the doorway.

"Uh, yeah, yeah," I mumbled stepping back and motioned forward with an exaggerated sweeping gesture. "Come in."

I forced a smile and she pressed her lips together, slipping past me and dropped the bag onto the counter. She turned back to me, pulling a strand of snowy-white hair from her eyes and collecting it behind her ears. "Listen, Jack, I know I sort of threw you through a loop today. I wanted you to know that I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. You're the only guy who's ever treated me right, and this whole time you've been right there. I-I just thought maybe..."

She trailed off, all wide-eyed uncertainty. I nodded, and moved up beside her, slipping both hands over either of her shoulders. "I-I was a little flustered, I admit, but ever since you invited yourself over, all I've been able to think about is you. It's funny how something can stare you right in the eyes, and it takes a proverbial slap in the face before you finally notice."

She smiled and nodded, leaning in for a kiss. This time, it was more than a simple peck and lasted seconds, but boy did it leave me wanting more. She cleared her throat and pulled away. "Uh, well, I guess I should get started."

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood and watched her get to work. Esther was pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way, but a far cry from what most bunnies would consider beautiful. Her figure was too round, her snow-white fur a bit too dull, and her ears always seemed to tilt at an odd angle. That being said, I'd never found a female more attractive in my life. She had such energy, a girlish vitality that had never faded as she aged, though she was now a few months shy of thirty. She was kind, generous and open-minded, and I added, she had great legs and not to mention a nice set of cans. It felt odd thinking about her that way, but once I started looking, I couldn't unsee it nor did I want to.

"So, um I don't know what you had planned for drinks, but that package that came today had something I thought maybe you'd enjoy." I moved to the cupboard where I'd left the bottles sent by Samson and slipped a hand inside blindly grabbing one from within the cupboard. Esther turned away, now rifling through her bag, and I glanced down at the bottle of pink fluid clutched in my hands. I felt a pang of disappointment, but I suppose it was for the best. Despite being a notorious tomboy, she always went for the girliest drinks.

She swung back toward me, a bundle of carrots and greens clenched in either hand, gave me an appraising look, then stuck her chin out toward the bottle.

"All I had time to grab was some Carrot Schnapps. So, yeah, we can try it. Might be interesting, why don't you pop it open. It might help us loosen up a bit."

The words seem innocuous enough, but she spoke them with a sensuous, husky quality to her voice that gave the statement a whole different meaning. I swallowed, fixing a hand over the stopper and pulled, almost hitting myself in the face with the back of my hand when it came loose.

She slipped her hand around the bottle, and I released my hold, allowing her to take it. She brought it up to her nose, taking a good long whiff before locking her lips around it, threw her head back and took a good long gulp.

When she at last dropped the bottle from her lips, wiping them clean with the back of her arm, she held it out to me. I swallowed, harder this time, and took it from her hands. I mimed her earlier motions, sniffing the concoction, and stopped pursing my lips.

Aside from the strong scent of alcohol which burned my nostrils, it was if someone had taken everything soft and feminine and bottled it as a liquid, it was flowery and fruity and sugary, but there was something more to it which I couldn't identify. When I smelled it, I thought of a beautiful sex-goddess of a woman, breasts heaving as she drew in breath and hips swaying with each step. My heart pounded in my rib cage and I hesitated. Something was weird about the whole situation. I don't think Samson would send me anything poisonous, but it raised the hackles on my neck. I started to set the bottle back down, but then I locked gazes with Esther. She arched an eyebrow and cocked a smile as if to say, 'Oh, come on, stop being so silly.'

I exhaled, then brought the bottle to my mouth,chugged it until my throat burned and slapped it on the countertop. It was everything I expected, sweet, fruity and every bit as strong as whiskey.

Esther hunched over, and I lurched toward her. A wave of dizziness washed over me and braced I myself against the counter before I could reach her.

She fell forward, hands thrown up at the last moment, fur now falling from her skin in patches.

Oh god. What was going on?

I scrambled forward, still spinning, but leveraged myself and dropped to my knees beside her. She peered up, and my breath caught in my throat. Not a single shred of hair remained on her face. She groaned as the skin around her muzzle rippled and contorted. I reached out, but a loud crack reverberated through my wrist and I cradled it against my chest, raw hot pain pulsating up and down my arm.

I threw my right arm out, tearing the sleeve of my shirt up my arm, in time to see chunks of brown fur fall away in clumps. It was no coincidence that it was happening to me too. That strange concoction must be to blame. I shuddered, a pit forming in my stomach, thinking back to the feminine aromas that had emanated from the drink.

Flesh bubbled and stretched, reshaping wherever the fur fell away. The bones in my hand popped, my palm becoming a little less rounded, my fingers thinned out and lengthened. Claws crunched, spreading out, flattening to become fingernails. My shoulder popped and I dropped my hand. I hunched over, howling in pain, my insides roiling. I wanted to scream, but the best I manage between stabs of pain was a soft miserable moan.

My chest tingled and I brought my hands up, the transformed one looking quite dainty and very human, the other was unchanged, but a quick look at Esther told me all I needed to know. She peered back at me with a human face, panting between a set of pouty lips, breasts heaving with each breath.

A sickening crack sounded inside my ribs and I tore the front of my blouse open. I watched with wide-eyes as two mounds rose from my now hairless flesh. I shuddered, panting and heaving, groaning with each pop that sounded through my insides.

I clenched my eyes shut, too terrified to watch the remaining changes, but while I didn't see them, I felt the bones snap and reforming inside of me. My other shoulder crunched, and my eyelids flew back open as I gasped for breath. When my hips changed, they each snapped with such force it vibrated through my whole body.

The tissue of my left arm continued to mold and reshape, but I managed to fling my right hand between my legs, feeling for familiar contours through the crotch and legs of my jeans. My manhood remained intact, but I doubted that it would stick around for much longer. I traced my fingers along my hips and waistline. The former seemed so huge! It seemed so out of place. The latter felt so narrow, so dainty, I could have easily wrapped one arm around it before my transformation.

Then it came, a sharp jab of pain and a pulling sensation in my nether region. My hand slipped inside my pants and shot into my crotch like a bullet. My fingers wrapped around my dick in time for it to slither away inside my fingers. My balls contorted and reformed, molding like putty in some invisible hand. I clawed at the flesh, a futile and irrational attempt at preventing the change. Within a few seconds my testicles squeezed into my skin, reshaping into a smooth hairless vagina.

I fell back, panting for air and stared up at the ceiling, tears rolling down my cheeks. It wasn't only from the pain I wept, but for the loss of my masculinity and my bunnanity. My transformation continued unabated, hair falling away on my legs and feet, flesh twisting, knees popping and inverting and my spine creaking and reshaping.

Then it started, a trickle in my throat, followed by a burning. I took a breath, but could not exhale. The flesh of my neck oozed around, merging and reforming, and I flailed about, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen intake. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision and a strange calm came over me. Then air flooded back into my lungs and I jerked upright, both hands clasped over my throat.

A high feminine wail escaped my lips, and I sat there panting, sharp pain shooting up and down my face. Esther knelt beside me, her human face peering at me, her quivering bunny ears her only recognizable features save that they were now pink. A shock of short white hair was all that remained of her once luxurious coat.

There was a pressure in my face, as cracks and pops reverberated through my skull, and my muzzle slurped away retracting until it was flat. There was a strange plumping sensation and my lips took on more human proportions. A creak sounded from my face, when a human nose wiggled its way into place. The last few changes settled in, a strange burning in my eyes, followed by tufts of hair cascading from my scalp with an explosion of itches and tingles, and the pain faded into a dull throb, before, at last, disappearing.

I sat there and leaned back against the kitchen island, gasping and panting for breath. Esther studied me, her new countenance an expressionless mask. Her eyes were another story. They were wide with mixed confusion, shock, concern and something I couldn't quite identify. She pursed her plump lips together, a hand reaching out to cup one of my naked breasts.

"God," she moaned and leaned in, her lips brushing mine.

Then I understood. Something stirred inside me, a wild unyielding need, a sexual desire so strong and so pervasive all I could do was give in to it. I leaned forward, pressing my lips into hers, locking them into an open-mouthed kiss. When two bunnies kissed, they just pressed the ends of their muzzles together. Their mouths weren't pliable enough for anything else, but our new human lips were capable of so much more.

Esther moaned, both hands now kneading my breasts, her body throbbing against mine. My lips worked their way down her neck, and my hands unclasped the buttons of her blouse. A flurry of hair, trapped inside during her transformation, fluttered away, and I got my first look at her chest, human or otherwise. God, they looked glorious.

I kissed her nipples, and she moaned in pleasure. Her hands reached for my waistband and the button came away. She peeled the fabric away, which was stretched tight across my widened hips, and after repeating the process with my boxers, my new pussy lay exposed to the air. She grinned from ear to ear and slid her index and middle fingers inside the crevice. I gasped, a low stifled groan emanating from my mouth and I shuddered from pure orgasmic pleasure.

Our love making continued, unabated, for what seemed like hours. I experienced more orgasms in that one night then I'd had at any point prior. I didn't care that Samson's drink had transformed me or that I'd, more or less, become a member of a different species. All that mattered was the sex, and it was spectacular.

When at last we separated, I laid on the ground, eyes closed, a smile touching my lips. Not once in my almost thirty years had I experienced pleasure so all-encompassing, so overpowering I couldn't stop myself.

It didn't matter, I had become a walking wet dream for the hordes of human males who lived on the surface. I yearned for more, yearned to make love to Esther again, and... to have a big fat cock hammer into my tight pussy. Even so, I was curious about the strange beverage that had prompted our transformation and that is what won out.

I opened my eyes and sat up, a soft moan escaping from my lips. I stretched my arms, my large pert breasts jiggling on my chest. It was an unusual, but not unwelcome sensation. I stood, locking eyes with Esther for the first time since we'd finished fucking each other.

She did not speak, but watched me, keen interest reflected in her eyes. I padded across the floor, my bare human feet slapping against the hard ceramic tiles. Over the course of our lovemaking, we'd disrobed one another and scattered bits of our clothing about the kitchen.

I sauntered over to the cabinet, a slight shiver working its way down my spine as I let my hips sway. I retrieved the bottle of blue fluid and set it next to the pink one.

"So," I said, my voice light and airy, and so very feminine. "If the pink one does this," I motioned down at my wondrous knew hourglass figure. "I betcha the blue one does all sorts of interesting things."

I shivered at the prospect. Though I had no intention of trying it out myself, there were plenty of other bunnies who might be persuaded to give it a go. I imagined Peter transformed, his big hard cock pulsating inside of me, his muscled frame throbbing against my soft feminine body and I moaned, licking my lips.

That was assuming the blue drink wasn't intended for something else. I thought back to Samson's letter, the almost feminine quality of his writing and the fact that he'd scrawled Sammie on the package. What she must look like, so dainty and small.

I stopped long enough to tell Esther I'd be back with something I hoped would explain everything and slipped out of the kitchen. Making my way up the stairway and into my bedroom, I retrieved the letter from my end stand. When I turned to leave, I caught my reflection from the corner of my eye and stopped to study my new features. My new face was oval-shaped and framed by a shock of messy dark, almost black hair, a nice petite little nose and a smile that would have most men and a few women eating out of my hands. Good god, I was gorgeous. As I had only ever seen a handful of humans face to face, I had difficulty pegging my physical age, but the firmness of my breasts and the softness of my skin suggested I was on the younger side, perhaps in my early twenties.

I slid a hand over my locks to straiten them, but gave it up. The mirror was a small decorative piece my mother had hung years before her death. It was now level with my face, meaning I'd lost a good three or four inches in height. I brushed my hands through my hair along the side of my head, where human ears would be, but I found nothing save for soft velvety skin and hair. I tilted my head down trying to get a better look up top and furrowed my eyebrows, my ears were pink like Esther's.

Absently fingering my ears, I studied my reflection a few moments longer and withdrew from the room. Sliding a hand down my back as I walked, I was oddly comforted to discover I still had my fluffy little bunny tail.

I found Esther waiting in the front room, sprawled naked upon the couch, flipping through an old book as if it were the most normal thing in the world. When she turned to meet my gaze, I stopped, studying her pink ears, a near match to mine, perched atop her snow-white crown.

It was difficult to tell, since she was sitting down, but she looked about the same height as before. Her form however, had changed in almost every way, her breasts were larger even than mine, but not so large they seemed disproportionate, her hips were only a little narrower than my own, and I thought, perhaps, her and I were about the same age.

I smiled, shivering at the memory of fucking her, and took a seat beside her. She leaned in close, her breasts pressed against my side and I released a contented sigh. I experienced none of the nervous anticipation from before. All of that had disappeared the moment I'd changed. I felt a confidence I'd never possessed before.

I caressed my lips with my tongue and clasped the envelope in my lap, tracing the wax seal with my finger-tip. Only an elf would be so old fashioned. So adorable... It was almost a shame to open it, but curiosity won out. I tore it open, slicing through it with the tip of my fingernail.

I removed the papers, back folded them, and flipped through them. There were more than a dozen individual papers, each filled back and front. Like I said, Samson tended to be a motor-mouth. About half way through the stack, a photograph fluttered out, landing on the coffee table. I reached out, flipped it face up and found myself looking at a rather provocative image of two beautiful ladies posing naked. A tall gorgeous brunette with bright blue eyes, hips that made me want to salivate and round large breasts, clutched at the form of a smaller woman with strawberry-blonde locks, elvish ears and a killer figure. I dropped the photo, bit my lips and mustered all my willpower in order to return my attention to Samson's letter instead of fingering myself.

The first three and a half pages was a letter detailing Saint Nicholas's accidental ingestion of something called the Aphrodite Potion, Samson's resulting exposure and their subsequent efforts to spread as much of the strange brew through the North Pole, including an interesting situation with the Elvish Council of Elders. Towards the end of the letter Sammie mentioned the Adonis Formula, the blue beverage in the box, was a prototype potion designed to invoke a more masculine transformation.

She ended the letter, with well wishes and was hopeful that I would find the enclosed photo a titillating example of what the Aphrodite formula was capable of doing. She then remarked that I should give it a try for myself, it had sparked a "renewed passion "for life and that perhaps it could do the same for me.

I shivered again at the prospects now laid out before me, and turned to Esther detailing everything to my lover, grinning from ear to end, imagining Nikki and Sammie fucking my brains out. I might have found Sammie's letter alarming had I not experienced the transformative effect for myself, but knowing what I did it was all I could do to contain my excitement.

Sammie gave me everything I'd need in the letter, the formula for both potions, tips for brewing, dosages, everything for which a sexy bunny girl could ask. I learned another interesting tidbit that produced a giggle of excitement. When the Adonis formula was combined with its counterpart, it made for some very... interesting results.

I pressed my lips together, a plan beginning to formulate in my mind.

"So, is it permanent?" Esther asked, and I stopped staring back at the other woman, surprised by the question, my mind already a thousand miles away.

"Uh, yeah," I said offering her a reassuring smile and rifled through the pages until I, again, found the section detailing dosages. "Apparently, the bottle we drank out of contains a concentrated formula. It varies by body weight and metabolism, but if these numbers are correct. I'd say we drank several times over the recommended dose, so I don't think there's any chance of reverting."

She released a long breath of air, and I grinned at her, licked my lips and shared with her my plan. With any luck, I could have my cake and eat it too.

It was late, into the early hours of the morning, most of the populace was asleep or at least making a stab at it. It was dark in the warren, but it was always dark. We lived underground. During daytime hours, smokeless torches, kept alight by magic unfathomable to humans, rimmed the corridors, but they only provided a modicum of illumination. At this late hour, only a handful remained lit.

It was fortunate, then, that Esther and I had retained such excellent night vision. I doubted human eyes would have provided us with clear enough sight to find our way. Our town was small in human terms, spanning just under a square mile, and Peter's home wasn't all that far from mine, anyway.

Peter had dedicated himself to his work, spending long hours away from home, and had never gotten married. He lived alone, which suited our purposes just fine.

I paused just out of range of the porch light and again pondered what we were about to do. Esther would never have gone along with my plan before her transformation and I wouldn't have come up with such a harebrained solution were I not being influenced by my new libido. The disconcerting part was I didn't find it the least bit disturbing, knowing that I planned to change someone else's life just for my own gain. I should have, and that scared me, but not enough to keep me from going through with the plan.

I licked my lips, just the thought of what we were about to do producing a shiver of excitement. My lady parts quivered in anticipation.

I glanced back at Esther, who watched me with nervous anticipation. She wore a pair of my sweats and a dark long-sleeve shirt, and a similar ensemble adorned my frame. Neither one of us had clothes that fit us particularly well, and after discussing my plans we'd decided that we needed to act before word of our transformations spread through the warren. We'd grabbed what we could find in my rather sparse wardrobe which would fit over our new frames.

I motioned her forward and crept toward Peter's home. We weren't worried about getting in, no door within the warren had locks. Our prime concern was being seen. There weren't many bunnies up this late, but you could never be too cautious.

We were inside in moments, and without delay made our way through the house, creeping on bare feet. Esther found his room, waving me inside with hurried motions. I stepped inside and barely managed to stifle a giggle. Peter, though fast asleep, had a massive erection.

It must be a sign, I told myself, reaching into my pocket and produced a small tube of violet fluid, a diluted mixture of the two potions. I knelt beside his bed, unstoppered the potion and popped the open end into his mouth. I tilted his head back, forced his mouth closed, and massaged his throat.

Peter came awake with a start, sitting bolt upright, coughing and wheezing, but I'd done my job. Other than a few droplets, none of the potion came back up.

"What the hell? Who are you? What's going on here?" Peter glanced between the two of us, eyes wide as saucers, speaking between coughs.

"Oh, Peter," I said a soft gentle tone to my voice, much like a mother soothing a child. "You'll understand very soon."

"Look human, I don't know what you think you're doing in my ho--" He never finished the sentence. A gurgle sounded from his throat, and he hunched over, clutching at it.

He took a nose dive, and I barely caught him before he face-planted, but I managed. My arms and back burned from the effort. Somehow I pulled him back on to the bed and collapsed atop it beside him, gasping and heaving. I hadn't realized how much strength I'd lost from my transformation, and I lay there, experiencing the slightest pang of regret.

I shook my head, craning my neck down at my melons and smiled. The odd brief moment of loss evaporated away. My loss of strength was a small price to pay in exchange for the carnal delights my new body offered.

A soft feminine moan sounded from Peter's lips and I pulled myself back up, determined not to miss any more. A slender and quite lovely furless neck, far too small to support his large head, had taken up residency upon his shoulders.

Fur dropped from his face in swathes, and the skin beneath bubbled and contorted, reshaping and smoothing out. Bones cracked in his face, his snout retracting in on itself. A blood-curdling scream escaped his mouth as his new face snapped into place. Smooth almost milky-white skin now covered a soft delicate almost doll-like face which was framed by silken honey-blonde hair. Instead of turning pink like mine, his ears shifted to a lovely violet shade. Pouty lips and a tiny button nose complemented his wide doe-eyes and generous eyelashes quite well.

I didn't yet know just how much height Peter would lose, but if the size of his dainty little head were any sign, he would be quite the petite little thing. I shivered in anticipation.

Peter lay there, panting like a dog and I unbuttoned the front of his pajama shirt as his shoulders snapped and cracked, matte grey fur fluttered away as if carried off on a wind, soft milky human skin took its place. His shoulders narrowed, and the transformation trickled down his arms and chest. A loud crack and a crunch sounded from within his limbs and chest, fat collected beneath his nipples and soon a pair of beautiful round breasts swelled out from his flesh.

He cried out, howling in misery, and arched his back, the contours of his spine snapping into a new alignment. Each crack and pop produced a fresh change. His waistline shrank down, and his hips did too. Legs and feet shortened to match, and soon a tiny little slip of a woman sat bolt upright, frantically pulling at her pajama bottoms.

My hands shot out to help, but she swatted them away with a frantic sweep of her arm. When the last of her clothes came free, she gasped and stared down between her legs. Though she had the usual female parts, she still had a cock.

On a male Peter's former size, it would have been above average. On her new tiny frame, it appeared massive. She grasped hold of it, her second hand slipping up her chest to knead a breast. The fear and panic that had marked her features before, faded away and a slow dreamy smile stretched across her face. She fell onto her back, and I crawled over to her, kissing Peter's soft feminine lips. Her raging hard-on pressed into my hip, and I pulled away, hands reaching for the waist of my sweats.

Though Peter's transformation was temporary, I full intended to give her a fully test-drive. Once I'd disrobed, I wasted no time, working my lips up and down her soft, feminine form. Esther joined in, pressing her breasts into my back, hands pushed into my breasts. Though we'd fucked each other silly a few hours before, we were ready for more.

Peter had always been the leader of the pack, always the dominate male, even when we were children. It was my turn to dominate her, and she yielded like wax to the flame. When I permitted her to penetrate my cunt, there was no doubt who was in charge. I rode on top.

Things turned out pretty much how I planned them. After our first night together Peter was like clay, so easy to mold and shape. Though she reverted to her old form a few hours after her transformation, she hadn't been the same old Peter. When we made love, she'd let me take the reins. There was a clear shift in power and we both knew it.

The first time she reverted, the dear thing begged me on her hands and knees to change her again, and I relented the very next night. I needed her to be Peter during the day, but at night, so long as she behaved, she was my little toy. Though the transformation was agonizing, she seemed more than happy to undergo it if there was even the slightest chance Esther and I would provide her with the sweet pleasures of the flesh. When she asked me for a new name, I knew she was firmly in my web, and so she became my little Honey Bunny, and I her mistress.

Esther, of course, was mainly along for the ride and was happy to do anything I asked her in bed. In her I found the partner I'd so long desired. Honey was just my plaything, but with Esther our connection wasn't just physical, I cared for her even loved her.

'Peter' covered for my disappearance, saying that she'd sent me on a special errand. No one questioned it. She was, after all, the Easter Bunny. Esther was another story, she was not employed in the factory and thus Peter could not speak for her. No one knew of our burgeoning romance, but we'd long been close and all it had taken was a few whispers here or there. According to the stories, Esther left with me, having at last admitted her true feelings. There were other rumors too, ones of a darker nature, but no one stepped forward with concrete proof and they left the matter hanging.

A few days after Easter, the first transformations took place. We'd been pretty random about who we picked and were careful not to drug any children. At first there was panic and finger-pointing, but as the changes continued night after night, and little by little attitudes shifted. Though many tried, none determined a cause. A few fled the warren in fear, but even interference from the other warrens did little to slow the onslaught of transformations. Soon, with the help of a select few unwitting dupes, we disseminated the potions to the other warrens.

We even began making our own formula from scratch. Roughly half of those we transformed were given the Aphrodite formula, an eighth the Adonis, and the rest what we dubbed the Hermaphroditus formula, the same mix that I'd given Honey.

I enjoyed riding the cock of a big hunk of a man as much as the next girl, but males had a lot of silly ideas. I should know I used to be one. It was best to keep them in the minority so us ladies might have a turn at the wheel. Those transformed by the Hermaphroditus formula weren't a problem. Something about their transformations made them so pliable, they did pretty much anything we told them.

Before long, those who'd been changed outnumbered those who had not and as I hoped, the females were the ones who filled the power vacuum. By then everyone knew the truth, but those that were transformed didn't care and the rest had given up hope of things ever returning to normal.

Jack was all but a bad memory, I'd become a vibrant, confident, and sexy woman, I took a name that fit the new me. Briana, it made me feel sexy as hell and I think it fit pretty well. Esther also adopted a new moniker. She confessed to me, she'd never really liked Esther much to begin with and since we'd already changed so much why keep such a ghastly name? Etta seemed to fit her just fine.

That was when I made my return to public life, with Esther in tow, revealing that I had been behind the entire thing. There had been so very many thankful bunnies that there was a campaign to name me the new Easter Bunny. I hadn't asked for it, but who was I to argue with the will of the people? I at last permitted Peter to become Honey full time and other than the rampant sex, and the tide of transformed bunnies, everything returned to normal, save for one little thing.

My first act as Easter Bunny was to put a new emphasis on hand-painted eggs. There was still a place for the mass-produced candy-filled ones that had supplanted their more traditional counterparts, but by next Easter I intended that every human household receive at least one hand-painted egg, more if we could manage.

I never yelled at my workers, and I gave them encouragement wherever possible. I couldn't say if that had anything to do with it, or if it was the increased stamina from the potions, but productivity went up more than twenty-five percent.

Etta, Honey, and I moved in together. Instead of working with me Honey pursued a new career as a seamstress, she displayed an aptitude for it that surprised us all. It was just as well. There was a real clothing shortage with the wave of transformations and no one wanted to wear their drab old outfits, anyway.

Etta helped manage the factory, and during lunch breaks we made time for each other, which is to say we fucked like the bunny rabbits we'd once been, and Honey, always eager to join in the fun often showed up to participate in our escapades. At first, she was just our little play thing, but over time she showed a great deal of remorse for the way she'd treated me, and I, in turn, for manipulating her. Without quite knowing how, we found a place for her in our hearts. The three of us married the next spring.

I don't know if my father would approve, but I tried to honor him in whatever way I could. It was a shame he hadn't lived to see me at last embrace the responsibility he'd wanted for me all along.

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The Fall of Kruhl Daniela A. Wolfe A young woman, naked and delirious from fever, appears on the streets of Tondzaosha, Idaho while a dark cloaked figure lurks in the darkness. She bears a sword, containing a power the likes of which the world has never seen. This weapon could bring salvation or it could spell certain doom for everyone.

Author's Note: This story was originally posted as a serial on my website and is the second one in my Exemplar Universe. It takes place just after the prologue of Psyren’s Redemption. It’s not, strictly speaking, necessary to read the previous story to enjoy the Fall of Kruhl, but it will give you a better grasp of the story and will avoid spoiling the first tale.

Official Report
Corner of Randolph Ln and Fillmore Ave
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Serena yawned, pressing her foot to the brake as she approached the intersection. She glanced at the clock and sighed. It was a few minutes after four in the morning and she’d just gotten off another late shift at the hospital.

"I’m getting too old for this shit," she said covering her mouth with her fist and emitted another loud yawn.

The light shifted to green, and she accelerated across the roadway, turning the corner three blocks away. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and slowed to peer back over her shoulder. She wasn’t certain what had prompted her to even look. Though still dark and most of the town had yet to awaken, the street was not empty. There were those, like Serena, who were still getting off late night shifts and returning home, and the early risers. Not to mention the vagrants, drug-addicts and criminals. She’d seen a few of those over the years as a nurse at Alameda General.

A figure staggered around in the distance, its movements were erratic and as she watched it move toward her, she stomped her foot on the brake pedal, transfixed. It was probably another druggie; they weren’t exactly in short supply in Tondzaosha. Yet… something was not right. As the figure drew nearer, a nearby streetlight illuminated its lithe form. Serena’s breath caught in her throat.

She rolled her window down, and put the car into reverse, stopping when she was closer to the figure. "This-this is wrong… sorceress. You did this… you, you change me!" A feminine voice screamed, before Serena had even laid eyes on its owner.

The girl staggered into sight, her bare chest heaving as she struggled forward. Blood streak down the side of her head and chest. She panted and wheezed her naked body glistening with sweat. She dragged something behind her that gleamed in the moonlight, and the scrape of metal on concrete trailed her. Her feet raw and bloodied, she left a trail of red footprints as she moved.

As Serena studied the girl’s figure, she realized that her first assessment had been wrong. It was no girl, but a woman. Her height had thrown her off, though the girl was short, she had the curves of an adult woman. If she were to guess she’d say she was nineteen or twenty.

"Reesha… send me back… I’m the, I’m the King… it’s WRONG!" She screamed out the last word at the top of her lungs.

She blinked and looked around, and for a moment her eyes focused and a degree of lucidity returned to her countenance. Before she’d uttered a single word, she descended back into delirium.

"Lost… Yes, they’ll be, they’ll be– lost without me… Do-don’t you see?" She asked and glanced down at the object she’d been dragging. "Waldy, waldy, Waldere… I’ll use its power. Find a way…"

She laughed, stopping with no prompting and teetered on her feet. She fell to one knee. Weakened by blood-loss, she no longer possessed the strength to stay standing. That might have been the end of her, but a dull thud sounded in the near distance and the girl gazed up in time to witness a figure come rushing toward her.

Her head jerked back, and she wobbled around holding her arms out to provide stability, but her efforts only resulted in her falling face first into the pavement.

"I’ll die here." The words seemed to come from nowhere and she was so forgone that she didn’t realize it had been her who’d spoken them.

Serena called out, but it didn’t even phase her. She shivered, clutching at her bare chest as the last of her strength drained from her. She closed her eyes and a nice numbness swept through her body.

Serena dove to her knees, scraping them against the pavement and grunting as her hands clasps the girl’s ghost-white cheeks.

"Honey, are you okay?" Serena asked slapping her cheek with a light flick of her wrist. The girl’s eyes flew back open. She squinted, straining her eyes, but all she made out was a blur.

"Did someone attack you?!" Serena asked. When the girl opened her mouth to issue a response, her lips moved, but no sound came.

The girl sensed movement and her rescuer’s face was lit up by an odd rectangular glowing box. She lifted it to her mouth and began to speak into it.

She grabbed Serena’s shirt, fighting to find the words, trying to make her understand. Serena had her first good look into the girl’s eyes, and she gasped taken aback by what she saw. Her eyes were gold, and the pupils were two vertical slits, like cat eyes. "Waldere… keep it safe… the sword is…"

She trailed off; her eyelids heavy. The girl closed her eyes, prepared to let the darkness take her away, but the woman spoke. "I need you to stay awake, okay?"

"Keep it… keep it safe," the girl managed before darkness closed in and Serena sat there, breathless.

"Hello?!" The emergency operator spoke in Serena’s ear. She jumped, fumbling with her phone, nearly dropping it, but finally secured her grip.

She cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah, I have a young girl here, she’s probably in her late teens or early twenties, she’s bleeding from a gash in her side and across the side of her scalp…"

Serena gave as much information as she could and went rushing for her car which was still running and popped the trunk. Retrieving the first aid kit from within, she rushed back to the girl dropping the small duffle at her feet. As a nurse, Serena knew full well the kind of injuries people could incur, and she had put her kit together accordingly. Her youngest had told her on more than one occasion that she had once again taken things to an extreme. If only he could see her now, she thought a dry smile touching her lips for a moment before she returned her attention to her patient.

Outside of the hospital, she could do very little, but she could try to stop the girl from bleeding out and hopefully keep her alive long enough for the paramedics to arrive.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip and retrieved the items she’d need from within the duffle, speaking to the operator as she worked. Serena didn’t see the ambulance until it was almost on top of them so lost was she in her work. A moment later a police squad car pulled up behind it and soon, the paramedics came rushing out of their vehicle. She stepped back allowing them to take over, but also provided them with the information they’d need to treat her.

They paid no mind to the sword laying a few feet away, concentrating on treating their patient. Serena stared at it, transfixed by the ambulance’s lights reflecting off its polished steel surface. There was something strange about that weapon. It seemed almost…

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and spun around to face it. A figure donned in an all-black cloak and hood lingered in the distance, just close enough she could make out its shape, but little more.

"Serena?!" A voice demanded from within the gloom behind her.

Broken from her spell, she whirled about to face the speaker. A slender man in his late twenties who was coming closer. She glanced back where the cloaked figure had been standing, but it had faded into the night, if it had ever been there at all. She stared after it for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. Unsure whether what she had witnessed had really happened.

The newcomer cleared his throat, and she turned to regard him as he approached. She narrowed her eyes and noted his pinched face and narrow frame. It had been a few months since she’d last seen him, but she knew him on sight.

"Good lord, you scared the hell out of me," she rounded on Tom Shanderly her hands on her hips. She made no mention of the figure in the distance, convinced now that her mind had been playing tricks on her.

The young deputy was as thin as a rail, but tall. Most times an easy smile marked his face, but on this night his features were gaunt and layered in shadows granting him an almost otherworldly appearance. Tondzaosha wasn’t what you would call a large town, and their police force only consisted of a dozen officers, the sheriff among them.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a fright," he said. He held a flashlight in his right hand, but kept it pointed at the ground. A smile stretched across his face, but it did little to brighten his countenance.

"Tom," she said motioning him over and directed his attention to the ground where the sword rested. "What do you think of this?"

He moved over, eying the weapon and turned back to her his brows furrowed. "The hell?"

He knelt down reaching out to touch it, but snatched his hand away after only a second of skin contact. The sword flashed a brilliant bright white forcing Serena to avert her eyes. Tom screamed, howling as if he’d just been shot. His eyes bulging out of his head, he clutched at his hand and stared at it for several long moments. He took a deep breath and turned to regard Serena a wild, almost panicked look in his eyes.

"Jesus," he said taking several steps back. "It felt like my hand was on fire."

Serena glanced at the girl who was, by then, being wheeled into the ambulance on a stretcher.

She hadn’t been very coherent, but whoever she was, Serena had the feeling her feverish ramblings were important. Why did that thought fill her with such dread?

Official Report
Alameda General Hospital
Alameda, Idaho

The lost girl awoke. Not all at once, it started with the soft chirp of a bird and followed with a whoosh of air. When her eyes cracked open, illumination burned into her pupils, and she clenched them shut taking in short jagged breaths. Her left side and head throbbed, and every movement produced another jolt of pain.

"Leoffa," she said the name, but the voice that spoke it was high-pitched and unfamiliar. Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped for air.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she found herself within a place as strange as it was unfamiliar. A box, just off to her side emitted an odd high-pitched chirp. Wavy lines zigzagged and scrolled across a black surface and unfamiliar characters pulsated on the right side. She tilted her head, furrowing her brows and stared at it unable to fathom what it was she was looking upon.

She peered around, the walls of the room were white and flat. Light shined in from a rectangle in the ceiling, and she peered up at it looking for signs of smoke or the flicker of flames. The girl detected neither.

She sat up, the movement setting off a strange jiggling on her chest. She glanced down and her stomach lurched. A pair of mounds bulged out from a thin fabric gown. She blinked and brought a hand up to cup one orb but stopped when she spotted her appendage. Five digits extended out from a furless palm. Her fingers were long and slender, like those belonging to a human.

She froze, those last two words repeating themselves over and over in her mind.

A human.

She brought her second hand up, jerking at it. The other hand was a mirror image to the first. When she raised them both up to touch her face, the second seemed to be caught on something. She traced her free hand along her arm and found the source. A transparent tube attached to the inside of her elbow ran to a T-shaped shepherd’s crook from which a clear liquid-filled bag hung. Again, she furrowed her brow. What could be the purpose for such a thing?

She reached out, grabbing a length of the tubing and turned it over in her hand. It was as clear as glass and yet soft and smooth. Odder still it bent with ease without snapping or tearing. What sort of material was this? Her fingers found purchase on the tube where it met her elbow and she gave it a tug. A stab of pain shot through her arm. She clenched her teeth and pulled her hand away from the tube.

She stared at it, mind racing. Was this a restraint, designed to cause her pain if she attempted to escape? If so, why had her captors only attached it to the one arm, and why did it seem so flimsy? She gritted her teeth again, this time in preparation. Her fingers traced over the tube and found that a thin film covered her skin on the inside of her elbow.

The girl threw her head back and howled at the top of her lungs. She extended the fingers on her free hand like claws and tore into the film shredding it in seconds. She yanked the tube away, gasping as it came free with a small spurt of blood. A thin needle covered in her blood hung from the tube. She tossed it away and scowled at the wound. It throbbed and blood dribbled down her arm, but she paid it little mind. She would tend to it in a moment, she’d sustained worse on the battlefield.

Both hands free, she reached up and touched her face. She found what she had feared she would. Her snout had receded inward, instead she bore the flat hairless face of a human. She slipped one hand along the back of her head, her fingers finding purchase on long strands of hair. She pulled a fistful in front of her face and eyed it a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Her luxurious mane, so well-tended over the years, was gone. Instead, she now sported long sandy blonde locks that fell down past her shoulders.

Was this a dream? Some horrid imagining of her mind? She clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to awaken, but when she didn’t, she forced them open again.

She glanced down at her chest, at last realizing what had escaped her before. Not only had she transformed into a human, but a female one.

"H-how?" She asked aloud, her voice soft and delicate.

She looked about as if expecting an answer from the open air, but when there was no reply, she gritted her teeth and emitted a roar… or rather she tried to. It came out as a blood-curdling scream.

The girl forced herself to think. She had no idea how she’d gotten to this place or been transformed. Sorcery was at work, of that she had no doubt, but who or what was responsible? Why couldn’t she remember?

She clutched her side, remembering the pain she’d experienced when she’d first come awake. It still throbbed, but she’d put it out of her mind when she’d discovered her transformation. Now that her attention was once again focused on her injuries, the pain returned to her with a vengeance. She reached inside her gown, where it hurt the worst and peered down. A bandage was affixed to her side, the like of which she’d never seen. The outside of the cloth was slick and produced a crinkling sound when she touched it. She considered removing the bandage, but she believed that would be a bad idea. She did not know the extent of her injuries and neither did she grasp /how/ it had been affixed.

Her fingers slipped away, and she reached out with them to probe the side of her head, a more slight, but just as irritating source of pain. The area of her scalp around the wound was shaved, and the edges of the flesh were joined with thread.

A light thud sounded nearby, and another followed. More came in rapid succession. Footsteps, she realized. Dropping her hands, she grunted and lurched over the side of the bed. She almost fell forward but caught herself on the strange metal bed railing. She was uneven on her feet; her human form was unfamiliar and had a different center of gravity.

The girl moved forward, meeting resistance from an unexpected source. Something pulled on her chest from inside her gown. She grabbed the collar and pulled it out peaking inside, getting her first good look at her breasts. Though she was no expert on human anatomy, if what she had observed from her hand servants was accurate, she was very well endowed.

She bit her lip and peered past the protrusions finding the source of the resistance in moments. Small gray rectangles had been affixed to her skin, each of which had a raised circle on them from which small gray strings protruded. She slipped her unbloodied arm inside the gown, yanking each of them free with a small yelp of pain.

The sounded of footsteps grew closer, and she looked up, eyes centered on the empty doorway. A figure appeared inside, and she gritted her teeth, regarding him with wide eyes. A pair of circular glass disks, nestled in a metal frame which sat on his nose and looped back around his ears, covered each of the human’s eyes. He wore a strange white tunic which was open in the front and draped over his neck he wore a shiny black rope with two metal prongs on one end and a disk on the other. He stopped, lips pressed together in a frown and eyes narrowed.

"You shouldn’t be out of bed, you’ll tear your stitches," he said setting a stack of parchment on the counter and moving toward her.

The girl stepped back, staring up at him with wide eyes. The man was a giant! She had never seen a human so massive! He was even… She stopped, looking at the decor and realization dawned on her. Though he towered over her, it was unlikely he was as tall as she’d believed, it was far more likely that she was small.

She gritted her teeth, anger swelling up within her, as she studied the man. How dare this slave stand before her without even a hint of deference upon his face! Never had she witnessed such impudence! She leveled her gaze on him and grabbed the double shepherd’s crook from the corner, surprised when it wheeled toward her with ease. The bag swung on the hook as she held it before her and she rounded on the man preparing herself for battle.

He took a step back, hands held before him.

She advanced, her makeshift weapon ready. "This!" she screamed, cupping one of her breasts with her free hand. "This is, Reesha’s work isn’t it? It has been years since she last dared to show her face, but it fits with her twisted sense of humor. Tell me where the sorceress is and what you did with the sword and I will spare your life!"

The man backed away, his eyes wide like an owl’s. "Sorceress? I don’t know what—"

"Wrong answer!" She screamed lifting the shepherd’s crook and slammed it into his side. Though surprised by how light it was, she didn’t let it stop her from repeating her attack. He grunted, hands swiping out to grab at the contraption, and found purchase around its center. His grip was like iron, and she gasped.

The girl did not have the strength to combat him in her new form and all the training in the world would not change that. She relinquished her hold on the weapon and bolted through the door. The man shouted, calling after her, but she did not look back. Whether this was the lair of Reesha or some other sorcerer she must escape this place. She would hide away and seek aid later.

A human man with a shaved head and brown skin lurched toward her, she tried to slip past him, but he dove toward her and enfolded her in his arms. She wriggled to break free, scraping and clawing at his exposed flesh, but he held tight. She experienced a prick of pain on the back of her neck, her vision started to blur. The man released his hold, and she collapsed to her knees hand clasped over her neck.

The girl cursed at herself, sensing rather than seeing the second figure who had approached while she’d grappled with the other man. As the darkness overtook her, her eyes locked upon a figure in the distance clothed in a black robe. She gasped, clawing and scraping at the ground as if by doing so she might remain conscious, but then the emptiness came and swept her away.

Official Report
Alameda General Hospital
Alameda, Idaho

Serena slipped into a chair and emitted a long sigh. She reached out snatching her mug from the tabletop and cupped it in both hands. She inhaled, taking in the rich scent of the coffee before taking a sip. Glancing sideways at the pair of doctors seated two tables away, she bit her lip.

The kitchen was closed after dinner time, and it was a little unusual to see anyone lurking about the cafeteria this late at night. It was one of the main reasons she took her breaks there when she worked nights instead of the employee lounge. Most nights she would have ignored them, but when she heard them speak it piqued her interest and for good reason.

"I tell you Phil, the girl is a nutcase. She was rambling on about some sorceress and a sword before attacking me with the IV stand. Thank God that orderly caught her. Who knows what she would have done?"

Sorceress? Serena blinked and set her coffee down, the girl with the sword said something about a sorceress.

She cleared her throat and leveled her gaze on Dr. Cadby, the one who’d been speaking. "Uh, doctor is that the girl in twenty-two? The Jane Doe?"

"Yeah," Cadby nodded jerking around to regard her with saucer-wide eyes. "That’s the one, she’s a real freak show if you ask me."

Without uttering a single word, Serena rose to her feet and moved away with quick yet furtive steps her coffee forgotten. She hadn’t heard of the girl’s awakening or the incident with the doctor. That surprised her, considering news like that traveled fast. Then again, she’d been in a funk most of the night and aside from interactions with patients she kept more or less to herself.

She sighed, moving through the hallway toward room twenty-two. Alameda General was a small hospital, which serviced Alameda, and its neighboring town Tondzaosha. It comprised a single floor and housed over three dozens bed. Yet, somehow when she traversed the corridors, the place seemed massive. Why would that be?

When she reached the room in question, Serena stopped outside the doorway, and cracked the door open. The room was cast in shadows and she could detect no signs of movement. The soft beep of the heart monitor coupled with the quiet whirr of the air conditioner were the only sounds her ears picked up. Not surprising, if what Dr. Cadby said had been true they would have sedated her.

"Hey!" A voice called out and Serena turned in time to see Aaron Callow, one of the hospital’s security guards, come running up to her.

"Step away for one minute," he said, muttering curses under his breath, snaked his arm out, clasped the doorknob, and slammed the door shut in her face. "How the hell did this door get unlocked?!"

Serena pursed her lips and regarded the man arms folded across her chest and arched an eyebrow. She’d never liked Callow, he’d always been a little too terse for her tastes.

"The girl’s off limits unless your name is on this list," he muttered jabbing a finger at a paper affixed to the door.

Serena sighed and nodded then turned away making her way toward the nurses station. She might as well return to work, her break would be over in a few minutes, anyway. As she moved, her thoughts turned to her oldest child as they frequently did since finding the girl. She hadn’t seen Andy in years, not since her then husband, Lucas, beat the child half to death.

The two bore no physical resemblance to one another and despite the girl’s small stature, she was an adult when Serena found her. It was the girl’s injuries that brought unpleasant memories to the forefront, and it was all she could do to keep herself from weeping when she thought of it.

Andy insisted from a very young age that she was a girl and neither parent had any idea what to do with her. Though Serena urged patience at first, Lucas had other ideas. He would not raise a sissy freak. What would the neighbors think? Worse still Andy possessed a strange ability to see into the past.

Lucas already threatened by Andy’s powers met her declarations of femininity with open hostility. He convinced Serena, that they need only dole out ‘tough love’ to rid Andy of such ‘ridiculous’ ideas. To her shame she’d gone along with it, and all the yelling and screaming that followed. If Andy said or did anything that Lucas construed as girly, Lucas flew into a rage. When his tough love approach failed, he came up with the bright idea to beat the child, Serena should have stepped in and put an end to it, but by then she had committed herself. Maybe it was for the best she told herself, but doubts began to surface.

It wasn’t until that fateful confrontation on the front lawn when Lucas beat Andy to within an inch of her life, Serena admitted the truth to herself, but by then it was too late. Child protective services stepped in and took away their children.

It left Serena an empty husk bereft of hope, wallowing in her own self-pity. Her marriage was a facade and had been for a long time. Eventually, she divorced Lucas, and started to pick up the pieces of her broken life. She enrolled in nursing school at the local community college, fought for custody of her children, and managed to get them back save Andy who was by then an adult.

Though the whole thing left a hole in her heart, she thought perhaps it was for the best. There were too many hard feelings and she doubted that Andy would ever forgive Serena for her part in that mess.

It was funny, she knew her child was living as a woman, but she had no idea what she was calling herself these days. What little she knew she gleaned from the handful of letters sent to her by her sister. After their parents died, a rift formed between the two sisters and when Andy went to live with Laura that rift became a chasm. Laura passed away before she had a chance to reconcile. Had it not been for her two remaining children and the forgiveness they granted her she would be a mess.

With a sigh, Serena returned to work, trying and failing to keep thoughts of her past out of mind.

Official Report
Alameda General Hospital
Alameda, Idaho

"It’s all right, now," the man said holding his hands out in a placating gesture.

The lost girl looked back at him, her chest heaving and her eyes as wide as saucers. He had told her his name when he first entered, but she had not cared enough to commit it to memory. Her only thought was to escape, but no matter how much she strained against the bindings she could not break free.

"You will pay for this." She leveled her gaze at him, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted. "When my people have discovered what you’ve done to me, they will come for you and you will meet your end at the tip of the sword."

"Right, well," the man said pushing his spectacles up his nose with his index finger. "Now that we have that out of the way, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? Why don’t we start with your name?"

She peered at him, atop her bed between gritted teeth. She didn’t feel very chatty, but she reasoned that if they knew her name, they might think twice at keeping her captive. Her reputation, after all, was a fearsome one. She pulled Waldere the legendary sword of magic free from it’s resting place in the Stone of Vulsung, used it to unite all the tribes of her people, the Assar, scattered across the plains of Eirdon, banished the Sorcerer Odalrik to the nether realm, and became King of all Eirdon. Not even the Angols in the island to the east had dared cross her and theirs was a mighty army indeed.

"I am Kruhl, son of Wurdan, King of Eirdon," the girl replied glaring at her captor, "and were I free and not trapped within this diminutive vessel, I would slit your throat from end to end."

"Right, Kruhl, son of Wurdan, King of Eirdon," the man repeated the strange white cylinder in his hand quivering across the surface of his yellow pad. "Okay, at last a little progress. Are you more comfortable with Kruhl, or should I call you King Kruhl, or perhaps Your Majesty?"

"It makes no difference to me," Kruhl replied. She had never been much for formalities least of all with someone whom she intended to kill.

She might have supposed that the man mocked her, but he seemed genuinely curious. Still there was something about his tone of voice, that suggested he did not believe what she said. Why would that be?

"Okay, Kruhl it is," he smiled. "I’ve been looking at your charts, and it looks like you suffered a gash in your side and a concussion. Do you have any idea who might have wished you harm or how you came by these injuries?"

Kruhl stared back at him surprised. Why would he ask such a question? Was it not his people who had done this to her? She clenched her jaw shut, mind racing. She saw no reason he would mislead her, but if his people had not done this to her, who had?

The man studied her, his lips pressed together. He opened his mouth about to speak, but she spoke first.

"I am King, I have made many enemies. It may have been any number of them. I remember nothing after I retired to my sleeping chambers," she said still trying to get his measure. Reesha seemed the most likely candidate, but she was unsure whether she trusted this man with her suspicions.

The man drew in his breath and leaned back in his seat. "That’s not uncommon with head injuries. Your memories may return to you after you’ve recovered or they may not. It’s hard to say at this point, but it could take time. If you recover your memory, it could be months or even years down the line, even then there could be gaps."

Kruhl remained silent and clenched her jaw shut. The man was a dupe, she concluded. Her captors brought him in to question her hoping she would give away whatever information they sought. She would not cooperate. Regardless, she intended to kill him if she ever had the chance.

"Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself. Is Eirdon very far away? I’d like to know more about it," he asked leaning forward once again, white tube poised upon the pad.

She peered at him out of the corner of her eyes, but did not speak. He emitted another sigh and continued. "I’m trying to make this as easy as possible. Believe me, I would like to help you."

She chortled and then turned to him a sneer spread across her face. "I would sooner impale myself on my own sword than to accept help from the likes of you, knave. Now, begone from here!"

The man studied her for another moment, before slipping the strange little white cylinder inside his tunic and rising to his feet. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but clamped it shut and disappeared from the room. Kruhl watched him leave with undisguised contempt upon her face, contemplating all the ways she might end his life.

Dr. Allen Wirthright, paused just outside the hospital room door and shook his head. He’d never let himself be intimidated by a hostile patient, but this one was different. Patients had threatened and even attacked him a time or two, but not once had he ever feared for his life.

This girl, whoever she was, spoke with such hatred, such malice it chilled him to the bone. Whether she had the power to harm him was immaterial, she meant to end his life and he saw no reasoning with her.

It troubled him, this talk of sorceresses and kings. He’d played along with her delusions in hopes he might glean something from them that would tell him who she was and what had happened to her, but he may as well have been talking to the wall. The girl was in a bad state of mind, she seemed convinced that she was the King of Eirdon. While delusions of grandeur were not uncommon among the mentally ill, it did seem strange that she saw herself as a king and not a queen. He considered the possibility that there might be some gender dysphoria at work, but that explanation seemed too convenient. Though he’d never heard it until today the name she’d given him sounded like something straight out of the sword and sorcery novels he’d read as a boy. It was likely the inspiration for delusions.

And those eyes… he paused picturing those luminous golden cat eyes peering back at him filled with the girl’s rage and hated. He knew of a rare genetic condition called cat eye syndrome in humans, but it didn’t affect eye pigment, and it came with a lot of other symptoms. Aside from her injuries the girl was in good health. He pondered what would cause such a condition, but shook his head and sighed. It wasn’t his field of expertise, let someone more qualified puzzle it out. As a psychiatrist his primary concern was for his patient’s mental health. Regardless, he made a mental note to discuss it with her doctor.

He stroked his chin considering the implications of the girls declaration. He knew of incidences of a patient developing mental illness because of a head injury, but given the extent of her delusions, he doubted it was the case here. No, he thought it far more likely it was a preexisting condition. The police had already filed a missing persons report, seeking all information on the girl. If she was an escaped mental patient something would turn up. 

Then there was this talk of a sword. He’d heard reports of how she’d turned up naked, dragging a sword through the street. Why she’d been in possession of such a weapon was beyond him, but it may have provided fuel for her delusions.

She had already attacked Dr. Cadby and she’d threatened to slit Wirthright’s throat. He didn’t think she posed a suicide risk, but she damn well was a danger to others. He glanced back over his shoulder, slipping a hand over the knob to ensure the door was latched and locked, then disappeared down the corridor, unable to shake the feeling that he was missing something very obvious about the girl.

Official Report
Alameda General Hospital
Alameda, Idaho

For a time all Kruhl experienced was the darkness. She floated in the nothingness, aware that she existed but not much else. The experience was akin to sleep, but she did not dream.

The darkness gave way to light in increments, but still she did not respond. She heard a soft grunt, and for several long moments she wondered where it’d come from. Then understanding dawned on her, the sound had originated from her. The light focused, sharpened all around her and a figure emerged from without.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a soft moan escaped instead. She was in motion. Was she being wheeled around on a cart? Her stomach lurched and she felt as if she were falling.

She turned her head, a man and a woman stood on either side of her, and a metal box enclosed the three of them in every direction.

"She’s growing more lucid," the woman said.

"So?" The man asked. "She’s restrained, what’s she going to do? Glare at us?"

She tried to sit up, but could not. Straps, held her wrists and legs in place and her head would not turn more than a thumb’s length in either direction.

A strange ding sounded and a section of the metal box in front of her parted, revealing the corridor beyond. A dark-robed figure waited without, but the pair were either not aware that the being stood outside the doors or chose to ignore it. Kruhl eyed the figure, the same one which appeared when she lost consciousness a few days earlier. The wraith neither spoke, nor moved toward them. It stood about, cowled head turned to regard them in silence.

The man took up position at her feet and the woman moved around her back and Kruhl lost sight of her. They pushed Kruhl through the opening, and she emitted the loudest most ear-splitting screech she could manage.

"Fuck," the man cursed. "What the hell was that for?"

The dark-robed figure glided up beside her, keeping pace with them. She could not view its face beneath the cowl and the specter kept both hands enfolded in its sleeves.

"Who are you?!" She demanded of the stranger, but it did not respond.

The cowled head turned toward her and still she saw nothing save for a deep depthless darkness.

[Kruhl] A voice spoke from out of the air, coming from everywhere at once and… nowhere. The voice was unlike anything she’d ever heard. It was distorted, uneven and coarse, but reverberated through her skull with crystal clarity.

"Who are you?!" Kruhl repeated eyes peeled on the specter, but there was no response. Her captors exchanged glances peering past the mysterious figure as if it weren’t even present, but even they did not reply.

They wheeled her down the corridor and out through a set of metal-framed glass doors and out into the sunlit exterior. The apparition floated along with them remaining silent until they came to a stop.

[Where is the sword?] the robed figure asked leaning down, its head mere inches from her face. She squinted trying to get a look at its features, but if it possessed any she could distinguish nothing save for blackness. The depths of the hood were darker than the blackest night even in the daylight.

Was this her enemy? The one who transformed her and brought her to this strange land? Why then didn’t it know about the sword? Several days ago a man, calling himself Deputy Shanderly came by to question her about the sword and herself, but she refused to give him any information. She’d assumed he was a pawn of the one who’d brought her to this strange place, but what if he had been as ignorant as he seemed? Perhaps he had come into possession of the sword before her enemy could get to it.

[Where is Waldere?] It repeated the question and she peered at it with wide eyes. [You cannot keep it from me. Tell me where it is.]

"I will never tell you!" She screamed, clenching her mouth shut. Whoever this creature was and whether it was responsible for her predicament, she couldn’t say, but it was no friend.

"Goddamned fucking loon," the woman said muttering under her breath.

Her rolling bed, lurched forward moving toward a glossy white box sitting atop two sets of black and gray wheels. Some sort of wagon, perhaps? The specter did not speak, but glided along beside her only stopping when Kruhl did.

Her female captor moved forward slipping a hand into a slender rectangular protrusion and pulled on it. A soft thump resounded from the box and the woman swung a door open, revealing the sparse interior of the carriage. Her mobile prison jerked forward again, and she grunted as her captors propelled her upward and inside. Again, the apparition followed, hunching over to fit into the low ceiling, but it remained silent. Why didn’t it act?

Her male captor climbed inside, closing the doors behind him and stepped forward, passing through the specter as if it weren’t there. The apparition shifted positions moving to stand at her feet and loomed over her in silence. She eyed the creature, her tiny human heart thumping in her chest so hard she thought it might burst free. "Whatever you are going to do, do it, or leave me be, foul creature!"

Again, the phantom did not reply, neither did it take any action. It hung there motionless, peering at her.

The bed lurched sideways and she turned to regard her male captor. He did not make eye contact or speak, instead reaching over her, a strap in hand, and secured it to a notch on the wall. He turned away, for several long moments and turned back to her a long tube on the end of which a fine needle was affixed. By now she had seen this device enough times to understand its purpose. The man would plunge the needle into the tube in her arm and the darkness would come again.

"Stop!" She screamed. "Don’t you see it?!"

The man paused, meeting her gaze with raised eyebrows. "See what?!"

"That thing," she screamed eyes turned toward the robed figure at her feet.

He followed her gaze, his eyes filled with cold disinterest, looking through the specter, again, oblivious to it. He turned his eyes back to her regarding her with a thoughtful expression.

His features softened and she saw kindness reflected in his eyes, just before he plunged the needle into her arm.

She screamed, her face contorting into a mask of rage as she felt the numbness spread through her body. As her vision faded to dark, the robed figure leaned forward.

[I am coming for you] It spoke, its strange voice ringing through her head, just before the numbness swept her away.

Trace glanced back at the door one final time, shook his head, sighed, and studied the inert form of the girl strapped into the stretcher. An image of her gold-hued cat’s eyes, so full of fear and anger, burned in his memory.

Still, it was a shame, he thought to himself. The girl was a real looker. It made his heart hurt to think what put her in such a state. He had a daughter who was only a few years younger, and the thought of her screaming at phantoms sent a cold shiver down his spine.

He took one last look at the girl, shuddered, thoughts of those eyes lingering in his mind, and slipped out the back of the van. Closing the doors behind him, he ensured they were latched and locked before slipping around the side and hopping into the passenger side door. Allynn peered at him from the driver’s seat with an arched eyebrow. "Ready?"

He nodded without comment and she started the engine, maneuvering the van out of the parking lot and into the street beyond. Their destination was the state mental hospital about twenty-five miles to the north in Grove City.

Allynn kept silent and Trace stroked his chin, his thoughts turned to the girl again. It seemed odd that they’d be moving her so soon after she’d turned up that night. They had no idea where she’d come from, and no name aside from that ridiculous moniker she’d given them. The amount of paperwork necessary just to get her admitted must have been astronomical and once you submitted that, it’d have to go through all the usual bureaucratic channels. In his experience those sorts of things took weeks, not days. Someone must have expedited the process, but the question was why?

He shrugged and shook his head. They made those sorts of decisions above his pay grade, far be it for him to question the pencil pushers who made them.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes and peered back through the window in the security partition which separated the cab from the back compartment. For a second he’d thought he’d seen a dark robe-clad figure moving about, but there was nothing save for the unconscious girl. He supposed it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. The girl must have unnerved him more than he realized.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Regional Airport
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Agent Carter Rathdrum of AEGIS looked out across the horizon and pressed his lips together. He stood at the end of the ramp and shook his head.

"What a shit hole." He said under his breath.

The clatter and clank of feet on the metal ramp sounded behind him and he shuffled out of the way to allow those still exiting the plane free passage. He peered back, eying the walkway and those descending it. At last, Van den Broeke stepped into view, and he turned to make eye contact, looking into a pair of brilliant emerald-green eyes.

Though Amelia van den Broeke’s name was Dutch, he suspected she may have some Mediterranean ancestry as evidence by her olive skin and shock of raven-black hair. Tall and voluptuous, the special agent in charge was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. He might have wondered why someone with her looks worked for AEGIS if he didn’t know a little about her past.

"So," he said slipping both hands back into his pockets and peering from side to side. "How’s it feel to be home after all this time?"

She regarded him, a faint trace of a frown touching her lips and shook her head. "Tondzaosha hasn’t been home for a long time."

She slipped past him without another word. Rathdrum sighed. He followed her, his lips creased in a frown, but remained silent. Though not lose to Van den Broeke, he’d known her for a few years and was on good speaking terms with her. He’d never seen her so uncommunicative. He didn’t know what put her into her current mood, but he believed it must have something to do with her homecoming.

Though he knew little of her history before she’d come to AEGIS, she was said to have faced a lot of heat for being both a transwoman and an exemplar. He saw no reason to doubt it, he’d worked in law enforcement for more than a decade both as an officer for the Los Angeles Police Department and with the agency, and saw a lot of hostility directed at both groups.

He studied her face, allowing himself to marvel at how much she’d changed since he’d first become aquainted with her. Not so much her personality, but in the physical sense. He would have been surprised learning, even before the change, that she was a transwoman. Back then she was tall and skinny, but pretty nonetheless. Since that business with Chemosh in New Hebron several months back things changed. She lost a few inches in height, but gained a figure that would make any man do a double-take. Amelia possessed the kind of beauty you only saw on the big screen or in the center-fold of dirty magazines, even if she didn’t quite seem to be aware of that fact.

He couldn’t say what had invoked the change, but he damn well noticed it. As with all things her change had gotten the rumor mill whirling, but he’d taken little stock in the gossip save for one aspect. A few folks had put it forward that because of her change that she was no longer a transwoman and capable of bearing a child. The term being bandied about the office was ciswoman, but he wasn’t sure if it was the right one.

"Rathdrum, you read the report. What do you think?" Van den Broeke asked glancing back at him arching an eyebrow.

Rathdrum moved forward stepping in sync with her and glanced about making sure none of the disembarked passengers were in earshot. "Sounds like a wild goose chase if you ask me. A sword that burns anyone who touches it? Sounds like somebody’s idea of a bad practical joke."

Amelia pursed her lips. "What about the girl?"

He shrugged. "Probably, another nut job. "

"Still, it’s a little odd the witness’s name was redacted on the copy of the report sent to AEGIS, don’t you think?" Amy asked her lips pursed.

"Weird, but I don’t see how that changes anything." He shrugged.

Van den Broeke nodded, but didn’t say a word. She was the Special Agent in Charge of their unit. New to the job, Amelia was the youngest SAC in AEGIS history. He had no idea what had prompted her promotion, but it had something to do with the Chemosh debacle. Whatever she’d done it impressed Director Malcolm enough to elevate her on the spot. She was inexperienced, but already seemed to have a better handle on the job than most in her position would have.

If Rathdrum had been a more ambitious man, he might have resented her advancement, but he’d spent too much time in the field to be doing anything else. Leadership came with too many headaches, and as a Special Agent he already had enough of those with which to contend. Better to let those better suited to the demands of leadership fill that need.

Despite her youth Rathdrum thought Van den Broeke a good fit. She still needed to grow into the position a bit, but he had no doubt she’d be fine. She possessed enough smarts to make use of her underlings knowledge and experience which was more than he could say for some other SACs he’d worked under and… as a bonus was a fair bit easier on the eyes.

It was unusual as it was seeing a SAC out in the field, let alone in a out of the way town like Tondzaosha. Why they’d sent Van den Broeke at all was a question, he was still trying to puzzle out. One thing was certain, she didn’t seem too happy about it.

"Tell me if you spot any of the local PD," Van den Broeke muttered as they made their way across the tarmac.

Rathdrum nodded. "Little surprised a town like this has an airport, doesn’t seem to be much here."

Amelia glanced back at him. "The airport is part of an industrial park. It’s used for business for the most part."

Rathdrum nodded peering about the tarmac one final time. He’d visited a fair number of smaller airports and there wasn’t usually much to them. This one was no exception. It didn’t even seem to possess a jetway.

When they stepped inside the main building, Rathdrum swore he’d stepped back in time. The airport’s interior hadn’t been updated since the seventies. He took one glance at the orange-padded chairs and let out a soft chuckle. Despite their age, they seemed to be in good shape. If nothing else, the place was clean and well maintained. There were large sections of the airport that were unlit, probably to conserve power, and save for the passengers who’d disembarked and the airport staff there didn’t seem to be anyone around.

"Van den Broeke?" A voice asked from out of the darkness, and a slender young deputy stepped out from an unlit portion of the building almost seeming to materialize from nowhere.

He focused all his attention on Rathdrum and the agent bit back a response. Van den Broeke needed to be the one to correct the officer. She did so, glancing at Rathdrum out of the corner of her eyes, then stepped forward and held her hand out. "I am Special Agent In Charge Amelia van den Broeke."

The officer lurched forward accepting her hand and smiling. "Sorry, ’bout that. The chief only told me your last name. Figured since your friend was a little older that he’d be the one running the show."

His eyes grew wide and he eyed Rathdrum throwing his hands out. "Not that I think your old or anything, I just—"

Rathdrum laughed and shook his head. Small-town police. "Forget about it. My name’s Special Agent Carter Rathdrum."

"Right, right nice to meet you both. I’m Deputy Thomas Shanderly at your service," he said grabbing Rathdrum’s hand and shaking it vigorously. "Kinda surprised you folks flew in from Cali, the Chief said the closest field office is in Salt Lake."

"We’re part of a specialized unit, dealing with very specific cases," Amelia offered in explanation. "We operate out of New Hebron, California, but the nature of our work takes us all over the country."

"What sort of work would that be, agent?" Shanderly asked tilting his head like a dog.

"That’s not something I’m at liberty to discuss," Van den Broeke answered frowning at the officer. "Suffice it to say, we have very specific expertise that may be beneficial in this case."

Though Shanderly hid it well, Rathdrum could see his confusion mirrored in his eyes and why wouldn’t he be confused? The Agent would feel the same way if he’d just had that bullshit explanation doled out to him. Specific expertise? For a nut job with a sword? Still, there was no help for it, Van den Broeke hadn’t been lying when she’d said she wasn’t at liberty to discuss their unit’s purpose.

Shanderly didn’t press the matter, but Rathdrum sensed that she hadn’t put the matter to rest. They needed the local PD to cooperate, if they didn’t want to be bumping heads with them everywhere, they went sooner or later she’d have to throw them a bone.

"Right," Shanderly smiled and threw a thumb over his shoulder. "I got a squad car waiting out front with all the materials you requested, if you want to get underway."

Van den Broeke frowned, glanced at Rathdrum before letting out a long breath of air and nodded.

Official Report
State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho

Reesha. The name came to Kruhl from out of the darkness resounding through her mind with such intensity that she shivered. She still wafted through the blankness, numb and with almost no awareness of her surroundings. Then the name repeated itself and the darkness receded…

Pale torchlight splashed against the wall, bathing the stonework with splotches of angry reds and oranges. Kruhl King of Eirdon, paced the corridors his massive hands balled into fists.

He stopped, placing an open palm on a section of the wall. Less than a year ago, his workers at last completed Wurdanhom for which his father first laid the groundwork. The wall belonged to an older part of the keep constructed before he’d been born. It was his father Wurdan, who united the Canti, the Andeli, and the Gelba tribes under his banner and begun construction of the keep and castle walls, but he’d died before it was completed. Kruhl walked in the shadow of his father. Though his accomplishments surpassed those of Wurdan’s, he stood upon his predecessors shoulders and all he achieved was a mirror of what his father accomplished.

Kruhl united the remaining tribes against the growing threat of the Sorcerer Odalrik’s armies. Victory came at a steep price, less than a third of his forces survived, and Leoffa his bride to be was among the fallen.

He peered down at his open palm and clenched it shut. Her blood was on his hands. The Sorcerer Odalrik was most skilled in the art of illusion, making others see that which was not there. Waldere, though a powerful magic artifact proved useless against such power.

Though Kruhl trained himself against Odalrik’s trickery, on the night of her death he had not seen past the magic. He impaled Leoffa on his sword believing her to be the Sorcerer, and by the time he realized the truth it was too late. Tears stung his eyes, though it had been over five years, he still remembered the look of betrayal in her eyes.

Were it not for Reesha, Odalrik’s former apprentice, they might have all died. Years before she betrayed her master and allied herself with Kruhl. On that fateful night, she alone saw past the illusions, and struck at the Sorcerer dispelling the mirages and by doing so allowed Kruhl to regain his senses. United they overcame the last of his guards, and when they at last cornered Odalrik, Reesha summoned the spell of banishment to cast him into the Nether Realm.

The spell was a powerful one and had it not been for the protections of Resha’s magics they too would have been pulled into the maelstrom of converging energies. Even Leoffa’s fallen form disappeared into the portal.

Perhaps it would have been different if the Sorceress remained allied with him. There was unrest amongst the human slaves, and as yet Kruhl could not quell their dissent. After her former master’s death, Reesha betrayed Kruhl attempting to seize Odalrik’s domain for her own, but Kruhl defeated her, sparing her life because she’d been so instrumenta’ in stopping their enemy. His decision haunted him to that day as Reesha, though he’d not seen her in years, had been a thorn in his side ever since.

A group of rebellious slaves, discontent under Odalrik’s rein and doubly so under Kruhl’s propped Reesha up as their would-be champion. Despite her long absence, he did not doubt she was behind their movement. She preferred to work in the shadows, never revealing herself until certain she could come out on the winning side. With the dissent growing, he believed it only a matter of time before she showed herself again.

He roared and pounded a fist into the wall. The blow would have been powerful enough to down a human, but nowhere near his full strength. He brought his hand away, his knuckles throbbing in pain and flexed his hand. He hadn’t broken his fingers, but his hand would, no doubt, be sore for several days.

"Troubled, milord?" A feminine voice asked, and a weight pressed into his side.

It was Gylda, his bride to be, the lioness who would one day bear his children. He did not turn to face her, instead he lowered his eyes and shook his head. She rarely spoke to him these days. Not unless she wanted something from him.

"The uprisings grow more frequent," he replied, unable to keep the anger from his voice.

"These humans are mercurial creatures, milord, when winter settles in they will forget all about their silly little uprisings," she said pressing her breasts against his chest.

Again, Kruhl did not respond. Gylda, though full grown, was young and inexperienced and until becoming his betrothed spent little time around humans. She’d been raised in Angol where the Assar, their people, outnumbered humans by more than ten to one.

There in the isle of Eirdon humans were three times more populous than the Assar. His people were overlords just like in Angol, but there was cause for concern. Though he did not doubt his people’s physical superiority he was no fool, his warriors were too few to quelch a full-blown rebellion.

He glanced at his betrothed then. Her coat was an almost perfect snow white, and he studied her features breath caught in his throat. She was highborn like himself, but where he had been more or less raised upon the battlefield, her upbringing had been within a palace. Every need and want she’d ever had or imagined was tended to by servants and courtiers alike. An only daughter, of a powerful king, her father doted on her shamelessly. She was as willful as she was arrogant, and when she had come to live in Eirdon it had been a harsh adjustment. Though he was King, he saw no need for servants or sycophants. She developed a measure of self-reliance as a result, but it had been hard won and she resented him for it.

They came from very different worlds, and most of the time she barely hid her contempt for his unrefined barbarian ways. Yet, there was an attraction. Her soft curves would turn the head of any Assar male, and though he was well into his fourth decade his battle-honed body would catch the eye of many a female. Though often drawn to each other’s beds, they would never love one another, nor did he believe they would ever come to respect each other. Their upbringings would never allow for it.

"Come, milord," she said purring as her fingers slid down his crotch, a smile stretching across her muzzled face.

She pulled on his arm, and he let her guide him down the corridor toward his bedchambers. Though his heart yearned for Leoffa, and likely would until the day he died, he could not resist his betrothed’s beauty.

That proved his undoing.

Once, inside the chambers, he caught a flash of steel, just before Gylda surged forward. Her weapon thrust at his chest. She moved quick and caught him off-guard, and he barely deflected the blow. His arm swept down, and she dived out of the way, coming around again, with the weapon, this time plunging it into his side. He roared as a stabbing-hot pain erupted, almost blinding him, he swiped out striking her across the chest and sent his bride to be sprawling into the opposite wall.

The warrior king reached for Waldere strapped across his back, but his hand froze in place. Kruhl grunted and heaved, his fingers grasping at the open air, but they remained suspended in place.

Pale green light flared across the room illuminating a slender form. She bore a long gnarled staff, atop which a jagged emerald luminesced. She wore no hood, and Kruhl felt his breath catch in his chest as his eyes took in her beautiful countenance. Though, he did not experience sexual attraction toward humans, he could appreciate their beauty in the same way he might that of a majestic buck, or a bright-plumed songbird. In the time he’d known her she fended off many would be suitors, but she’d shown no interest in their attempts to court her.

"Reesha," he spoke the name, his blood running cold. Her face had not changed, as if she’d remained untouched by the ravages of time.

Gylda rose to her feet, a low moan escaping her muzzle. Reesha moved forward, and his betrothed shuffled behind her as if shielding herself from the other Assar. It was an odd display considering that Gylda towered over the diminutive sorceress, but Kruhl was no fool. Reesha possessed more power in her tiny human frame than any Assar could ever hope to conjure.

"Well," Reesha spoke a sneer curling across her lips. "I step away for a few years, and look at the mess you make for yourself, Kruhl."

Kruhl did not speak, instead, concentrating his energy on breaking through Reesha’s spell. Magic though powerful, was not without its weaknesses. Given enough time, one could overcome its effects.

She must have sensed what he was doing, the sorceress turned her head and called over her shoulder. Six humans, five male and one female emerged from the shadows, each equipped with a different weapon.

"You need not speak, Kruhl," she paused after saying his name and scowled. "I will keep this short and simple. You have been a thoughtless and cruel overlord. Your human slaves are no longer content to live under your shadow. They have selected me to take your place and rule as a more benevolent queen. Your reign is over, Kruhl son of Wurdan."

Broken free from her hold Kruhl roared, unsheathed Waldere and struck at the nearest of the warriors downing two with a single swing of the great sword. The warrior king rounded on the other three, but their weapons were ready, the two men surged forward, one with a curved sword of a type he did not recognize and the other bearing a spiked cudgel. He tossed the first aside without even glancing at him and drove his blade into the chest of the second. By the time he rounded on the woman, she struck, her long slender sword slicing open a gash in the side of his head, a strike which would have carved open his chest had he remained where he stood.

"Enough!" Reesha screamed out, the light from her staff flaring so brightly that Kruhl was blinded.

When his vision cleared, Reesha thrust her staff out sending him careening into the stone wall behind him. "There will be no escape!"

Again, he fought to break free so that he might summon the power of the sword against the sorceress, but she was too fast for him.

Reesha, held the staff out before her, her free hand weaving patterns in the open air. "Kruhl son of Wurdan, King of Eirdon, for your crimes you’ve committed against these my people I banish you from this realm and into the Nether Realm from which there is no return."

Reesha’s staff flared one final time, the barbarian king’s stomach lurched and… a sweat drenched Kruhl awoke sitting bolt upright hands cupped over her soft human face.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Regional Airport
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Amelia van den Broeke shuddered and peered about her eyes roving the parking lot outside of the airport her face a mask of casual disinterest. On the inside, however, a tide of emotions washed over her. Her stomach was roiling, and in her mind she’d reverted to that young child who’d fought so hard to come to terms with her gender identity. She was angry and more than a little frightened and wanted nothing more than to turn right back around and take the next flight out of town. She had a job to do, however, and she would not back away.

It was this very airport she’d flown out of when she’d first left Tondzaosha and it had changed little in the intervening years. She felt much the same as she had then, but her current apprehension was of a different sort. Before she had worried over the prospect of going to live with an aunt she barely knew, but now it was over the possibility of running into people who had known her before her transition, most prominent among them her parents, that dominated her thinking.

Shanderly led them to a squad car parked along the outermost edge of the parking lot away from any of the other vehicles. "She’s a beaut, ain’t she?" He asked grinning from ear to ear and patted the roof. "The city finally started replacing some of the older cars. Since mine was the oldest, they swapped mine out first."

Amelia eyed the vehicle without a word, and aside from the city logo on the side she’d seen dozens just like it and wasn’t impressed. Rathdrum, on the other hand, moved past his superior and leaned in to get a better look. "I drove an old Sovereign Rosalia when I was with the LAPD, the thing was a clunker, but somehow it kept chugging along. I tell you if I’d been cruising around in one of these, I’d have given some serious thought to staying on the force."

Amelia sighed and rolled her eyes. Boys and their toys. Even before her transition she’d never understood the male fascination with cars, but since she worked in such a male-dominated profession, she’d become accustomed to it. Rathdrum, having either sensed her discomfort, or he’d heard her sigh, glanced back at Amy and cleared his throat. "I’d love to talk cars but, um… that’s not why we’re here. We’ve had a long flight and Van den Broeke and I have a long day ahead of us tomorrow—"

"Say no more." Shanderly waved his hands back and forth in front of his chest. "Jet lag’s a real killer. Hop in and we can get underway," he said swinging the rear driver’s side door open and moving around back to pop the trunk. He retrieved their luggage and tossed it inside.

Rathdrum moved forward, into the open door and closed it behind him. Amelia sighed and slipped around the car. As the subordinate agent, Carter had taken the back seat, as expected of him, but she wished it was she who’d taken up residency in the back. Other agents might have opened the passenger side door for her, but Rathdrum knew better. Shanderly attempted to step in to do just that, but Amelia waved him off.

When they were all seated inside the squad car, Shanderly retrieved a stack of file folders stuffed between the seats and passed them over to Van den Broeke. "This is everything on the case, and those other files you requested."

Amelia accepted them, muttered a quick thanks and set them in her lap. She would take time to look over them after when she was a little more clear headed.

"I know a few Van den Broekes," Shanderly said, glancing at her before turning the ignition. "You have any relatives in these parts?"

And there it was… Amy bowed her head and clenched her eyes shut. She considered lying, but discarded the idea. Though she’d long distanced herself from her past, she would not hide from it. "A few," she answered, turning to regard him with a set of brilliant green eyes. "But I haven’t spoken to them in years."

The deputy made eye contact with her, pressed his lips together then returned his attention to the road. Amy didn’t know if he’d seen something in her face or if he’d picked up on some cue from her tone of voice, but he didn’t bring it up again.

"So…" Rathdrum said speaking up from the back seat. "What’s the plan for tomorrow?"

"I’d like to see that sword, then speak with the girl and the witness mentioned in the report and see where that leads us," Amelia craned her neck back and nodded at her subordinate grateful for the change in subject. The question and her answer was more for Shanderly’s benefit, they’d already discussed their plans at length.

She paused wondering if she should ask the deputy about the inked-out name, but pressed her lips. She had the strangest feeling that she didn’t want to know who the woman was who’d found the girl, but why would that be?

"Well the chief has put me at your disposal," Shanderly added oblivious to Amelia’s ruminations. "I’m here to assist you in whatever way I can."

Amy peered at him, swallowed, and let the matter drop. Tomorrow she’d inquire about it. There would be time enough to get to the bottom of it then. It wasn’t like her to procrastinate and it disturbed her more than she’d let on.

"Have there been any unusual occurrences in town since the girl first appeared?" Rathdrum peered forward leaning close to the barrier separating the front seat from the back. Snapped out of her reverie, Amy craned her neck back and glanced at him.

"Nothing, that we’ve been able to connect to the girl or the sword." The young deputy frowned and sighed as the light ahead turned red.

That raised Amy’s eyebrows and she peered back at the young man. "If there’s one thing I’ve learned while working for AEGIS, is that when you investigate strange happenings, events that might seem unrelated have a way of connecting. If there is anything unusual, it may be worth investigating."

The car came to a stop and Shanderly eyed her, before nodding and turning his attention back to the road. "The night the girl turned up, we received a tip about a fire in Ammon Park. There were reports of some weird flashes of light and a cloaked figure lurking about. We investigated it, but didn’t turn up anything. All that being said, I gotta admit it looked a little strange."

"What do you mean?" Rathdrum asked from the back seat.

"Well…" He trailed off glancing at each of them before continuing. "The scorch marks on the ground formed an almost perfect circle, about seven-feet around. The weird thing is, there was no damage to any of the trees or playground equipment in the circle, just the grass."

"Did you run any grass or soil samples through the lab? Maybe there was a—" Van den Broeke started, but the deputy waved her off.

"You guys probably do things differently in the big city, but here in a small town like Tondzaosha we don’t make a big fuss over what so far has been an isolated incident. The damage to the park was minimal and the cost of investigating is just a tad more than the price of a little sod. It was probably the work of some dumb teenagers in any case."

Amelia nodded, and bit the inside of her cheek. What Shanderly said made a fair bit of sense, but if there was any connection with either the girl or the sword to what had happened in the park, they would have missed an important clue. Regardless of the deputies thoughts on the matter she would take a visit to Ammon Park soon.

They spent the rest of the car ride trading inane chatter, and the deputy soon dropped them off at their hotel. They traded phone numbers, and Shanderly sped away his squad car disappearing down the roadway in seconds.

Amelia watch him depart, her green eyes lingering long after he’d departed. She experienced a a vague sense of uneasiness. She kept telling herself it was because she’d returned to the hell of her early childhood, but that wasn’t it at all. Her instinct told her that something was very wrong. Only time would tell what that might be.

Amelia sighed, closing the hotel room door behind her and slipped her blazer off, tossing it on the dresser beside the case files. Slipping her shoes off, she dropped onto the bed, spread eagle and closed her eyes emitting a contented breath of air. She began to slip into the dark realm of slumber, but she forced her eyes open. Slowly, lazily they complied and she found herself looking up at the ceiling. She would have liked to get some sleep, but it was not a luxury she could afford to indulge in just yet. The agent had a promise to keep.

She reached out with her mind, a familiar presence touching her consciousness. "Liv," she whispered her pet name for Sapphira out loud. For a brief time Sapphira Olivia Scott and Amy had shared an empathic bond. Though it had faded away after their short-lived joining of body and mind, a connection lingered. All it took was for one of them to reach out and their minds would again connect. When that happened the bond was stronger than it ever had been before. They could share more than emotions, but thoughts and impressions. They could even project images into each other’s minds.

"Amy," the other’s voice rang through her mind and the agent lurched to her feet so she could stand face to face with the phantom of her life partner.

Sapphira was tall and dark, a beautiful woman by any standard, but the one feature which Amelia found most mesmerizing were her sapphire-blue eyes which stood out in stark contrast to her chocolate brown skin. She hadn’t always looked that way, when they’d first met she had been an old man, living in the past and angry at the world. The power which she inherited from a being known as Ashtar transformed her into the woman whose image stood before her and helped her overcome her hatreds and create a new life for herself.

Sapphira was infatuated with Amelia from the start, but the agent, knowing who she was and the prejudices she held, was repulsed. It had been quite the shock to Sapphira when she learned Amy was a transwoman, and it had seemed, for a time, that the agent would no longer have to fend off the other’s unwanted advances.

Eventually they joined forces to overcome Chemosh, an ancient and powerful alien entity, merging into a single form and gaining an insight into one another’s minds they could have never achieved before. When they split back to their individual forms, Amy was transformed and the pair, as a result of the connection, fell in love.

Upon seeing Sapphira, Amy sprang forward embracing the other and locked lips with her. Though she was hundreds of miles away and the form that stood before her was an illusion, the kiss and her illusory body seemed as real as if she were flesh and blood. She swore she could even taste the raspberry lip gloss her lover wore.

"How’s it going?" Sapphira asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Fine," she lied, resting her head on Sapphira’s shoulder, surprised that it supported her weight, but glad that it did. She closed her eyes letting out a contented sigh.

"You’re lying," her partner said and Amy’s eyes snapped back open.

A gentle smile touched the corner of Sapphira’s lips, as she slid her arms out to cup the other’s face in her hands. Amy pulled away, sprawling back first onto the bed.

"I hate being back here, Liv," she said, propping herself up with her shoulder peering back up at her. "I’ve spent the last fifteen years trying to put my life here behind me, and now I feel like I’m fifteen again, still trying to come to grips with my gender identity."

Sapphira slipped beside Amelia, wrapped her arm around the other woman and sighed. "They should have never asked you to go back."

Amy almost laughed, but when she turned to look in her lover’s eyes and saw the concern mirrored in them she stopped herself.

"Just hold me." She slipped her head into Sapphira’s lap and closed her eyes, just letting herself drift away…

Official Report
State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho

Kruhl peered around, wide-eyed taking in her surroundings. She was in a room, much like the one in that place they called a hospital, but the walls were narrower, the decor more sparse, and fewer strange contraptions layed about. When she cupped her mouth with both hands, sweat dripped down her face and into her eyes.

She remembered now being brought to this world and a cold shiver worked its way down her spine at the revelation. The Nether Realm, a place said to exist both below and apart from the true world, a place of eternal torture and darkness. Somehow that didn’t seem right. Yes, this was a place of madness, but nothing about it fit what she’d been taught since childhood, but now that her memory returned to her, she believed that this must be another realm.

When they first formed their alliance, Reesha told Kruhl that amongst the aether there were many realms, some more like their own and some more like the Nether Realm. Could this be one such realm? Had Reesha sent her to the wrong world?

Perhaps, Odalrik was here too and that robed specter had been some strange incarnation of him, but why would it be so intent on finding the sword? Waldere was a powerful talisman, but it was not the weapon of a sorcerer. It’s magic was fickle only allowing those who possessed certain qualities to make use of its power and even then sometimes it would be of limited use. It had not saved him from Reesha or her sorcery. The sorceress was lucky to have caught Kruhl off guard and had the warrior king been given the opportunity to summon the energies of the blade the outcome would have been much different.

Kruhl brought her hands away from her mouth, realizing for the first time they’d removed her bindings from her arms. She peered down, discovering that the straps around her legs were also gone. She lurched to her feet, rushing toward the door, but if a means to open it existed, she did not find one. Neither did she have hopes of breaking it down. Its construction was as solid as the gates of Wurdanhom.

She turned away emitting a soft growl under her breath, fists clenched at her side. This place was another prison.

She glanced down at herself realizing that she no longer wore a gown, but a pair of sky-blue trousers and a strange white short-sleeve tunic that only extended two thumbs past her waist. Her breasts bulged out from the front of the garment, and the outline of her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. She cupped them and felt her cheeks grow warm. Startled she slid her hands up her face, confused to discover that they seemed hot.

She peered around, eyes searching for something through which she might see her reflection and found it across the room.

She’d seen a similar contraption called a sink in the hospital and moved toward it. This sink sat atop a steel pedestal from the lower front portion of which a basin full of water protruded. Such a strange contrivance, she mused, she’d seen the denizens of the hospital make use of the sink and knew it could be filled from the spout at its top, why then did it have this second source of water? She put a hand around the lip of the basin, peering inside. The smell from within was harsh, and reminiscent of lemons, but burned her nostrils.

Poison?

She returned her attention to the sink, lifting the lever on the faucet and watching the liquid spill out. The aroma was absent, and she frowned unable to fathom the reason for the scent or the second basin affixed to the bottom of the pedestal. It was a mystery she supposed she would not yet be able to unravel.

She recalled again why she was there in the first place, her cheeks burning anew. Peering into the gleaming steel surface she frowned. The human face that looked back at her was younger than she’d expected, she bore the face of a woman a year or two out of girlhood, and she added… her cheeks looked a little red.

She’d once had a slave whose face would turn scarlet anytime she disrobed in front of her and now she believed she understood why. Kruhl bit her lip, eyes focused on the girl’s distorted face peering back at her. Attractive by human standards, her blonde hair spilled out of her head in a tangled mess framing a round face. Generous lips parted to reveal a row of perfect white pearls, a rare trait among his human slaves. A pair of luminous gold eyes peered back at him. That final trait was the only remaining one unique to the Assar and not humans.

It gave her a small measure of comfort to realize that something of her old self survived her transformation. Though the how or why puzzled her.

She peered at the reflection a moment longer and glanced down at her chest, realizing for the first time she’d yet to see herself naked in her human form. Though her stomach lurched at the very idea, she only hesitated a moment before she disrobed.

Kruhl pulled the tunic over her head, grunting and pulling harder when her breasts resisted the effort. When it came away, they bounced about on her chest, but she gritted her teeth choosing to ignore the uncomfortable sensation before turning her attention the trousers. She pulled on the waist band, discovered as she did so it stretched around her hips and shrank back when she pushed them down.

She reached down to get a better look at the trousers when her eyes caught sight of her new privates. Never having seen a human naked, it surprised her that her nether region would have hair, and when she slipped her hands between her legs, she found that it was coarse and bushy. She had bedded many Assar females in her day and had seen every nook and cranny of the female body. Aside from the lack of a fur coat and the obvious differences in the face shape and body size, they didn’t seem all that different. Of course, beholding female proportions was a fair bit different from having them.

Everything about her new body was foreign to her, the breasts being the most obvious, but as she peered down at her body, she felt bile rise in her throat. She held one hand up, flexing her long delicate fingers in front of her face and let a sob escape her lips. She trained her whole life, sculpting the body of a warrior, even in her forties she was among the strongest, and the most ferocious warriors. Now, she doubted she even possessed the strength to lift Waldere. How could she continue knowing what she had fought so hard to achieve was for naught?

All the confusion and frustration of the last few days came bursting out of her like a dam and the first time in as long as she could remember the girl who’d once been the warrior king known as Kruhl, fell to her knees, curled up into a ball and wept.

Official Report
Sleepeez Hotel
Tondzaosha, Idaho

The soft melody of bird song carried on the open air. Light flittered in through the blinds, and Amy lay upon the bed undisturbed. A child’s wail sounded from the corridor outside the room, and a car’s horn blared without the hotel. Amelia moaned, and her eyelids fluttered open. A hand shot up, shielding her eyes from the illumination that filtered in through the blinds and she lay there for several long moments in a daze.

She grumbled and sat up, slipping her hand over her back kneading her hand into her flesh. She bowed her head and most of her hair cascaded over the front of her face, obscuring her view of the hotel room. Sliding a hand up around her bangs, she collected the strands of hair, pulled them away from her face, and collected them behind her ears.

She pressed her lips together, and thought of Sapphira. She must have fallen asleep in her lap, and when their connection broke, Amy remained in the same position, hanging halfway off the bed. She rubbed her back again and shook her head. No wonder she was so sore.

Amy slipped her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it long enough to get the time and slipped it back inside, brushing her arm against her stomach. That was all it took, her insides churned and she sprang to her feet lurching into the bathroom. Bile rose in her throat. She fell to her knees, flipped the toilet seat open and hurled her guts out.

She panted, dry heaving, her arms resting on the seat for several long moments. Finally, she swallowed, and leaned back falling onto her rump. She inclined her head against the wall, closed her eyes and just sat there hand over her belly waiting for her roiling stomach to calm.

Morning sickness had become the bane of her existence these last few weeks. "You wanted this, Amy," she reminded herself and opened her eyes a wry smile spreading across her face.

She peered down at her hand, still resting on her belly and fought off another wave of nausea. It would have been bad enough if just contending with it in the mornings. Sometimes it would happen in the middle of the day or in the evening after she’d come home from work. Nothing helped, no pill or medicines and since she’d become pregnant, she had to be careful what she took.

Amelia leveraged herself against the wall, and rose to her feet her brilliant green eyes peering back at her through the mirror. Amelia was beautiful, though as Rathdrum had surmised she was quite oblivious to the fact. She was the first to point out her flaws, as if by doing so she might deny what was clear to all who met her.

Raven black-hair spilled out of her head in ringlets which cascaded past her shoulders and framed her long oval face. Even without makeup, her skin was smooth and flawless and though she had just stepped out of bed, and thrown up, she would still turn heads if she stepped out into the hallway.

Generous lips, and a slender nose, were among her better features, but it was her eyes that stood out. Sapphira would often say that she could stare into Amy’s ’emerald peepers’ and peer into her soul. She would remark that the passion and intelligence mirrored in them showed she was as beautiful in the inside as she was on the outside. As much as Amelia enjoyed hearing those words, she would never quite bring herself to believe them. Sapphira saw Amelia in a different light than most and it colored her judgement.

Amy washed her hands returning to the room to retrieve some things from her bags before she slipped into the shower, but before she’d made half a dozen steps, a soft knock sounded from the door. 

That would be Rathdrum, she sighed and bowed her head, moving toward the door, first checking the peephole to confirm her suspicions and swung the door open to reveal Carter Rathdrum’s careworn face.

"Sorry, I know it’s early, but I thought I would slip out to pick up our rental and maybe grab some coffee and a little breakfast, you want me to get anything while I’m out?" He asked throwing a thumb over his shoulder. His nose crinkled and he pressed his lips together as he studied her features.

Had he smelled the vomit on her or was it something else?

"You all right Van den Broeke?" He asked. "You’re looking a little pale. Not that you don’t—"

She waved him off. Rathdrum was too polite to mention the odor, but that wasn’t to say he couldn’t dig himself into a hole. It was best she stopped him before that happened. It was a pity, he was a nice guy, but after all those years of marriage he still did not understand how to talk to a woman.

She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "I was feeling a little nauseous, but I’ll be fine. If you’re going out, there’s a little coffee shop on Main Street would you see if they still sell peppermint tea? If I remember correctly, they sold some breakfast items as well you could get something to eat there too."

Rathdrum frowned, but didn’t press the matter. "Yeah, sure, I’ll see you in a bit."

He disappeared down the corridor and Amy, watched him go before closing the door. She paused, her back to the door, and emitted a long sigh. Something told her it would be a very long day. She shook her head, grabbed her toiletries and a change of clothes out from her bag and retreated into the bathroom. The sooner she got the day over with, the better.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Van den Broeke?" Rathdrum asked, turning to regard his superior with an arched eyebrow a moment after the car came to a stop. "You sure you’re okay?"

She didn’t answer at once, instead studying the interior of the Durant Santa Monica, the rental which AEGIS provided them. It wasn’t much to look at, the all-black interior was as basic as they came. The only premium feature it seemed to possess was the in-dash GPS, but it would suit their purposes just fine.

Rathdrum walked almost a mile to retrieve it, as the hotel didn’t have any kind of shuttle service, but he was a fit guy and from what she remembered of the area the walk wouldn’t have been a difficult one.

"Amelia?!" He asked, this time a little more forceful.

Amy sighed, glancing down at her belly where her hand had been resting throughout the car ride and turned back to regard him with wide eyes. She’d been debating whether to tell him the truth for most of the morning. An agent was duty bound to report a pregnancy to her superior as it was a condition that could affect the performance of her duties, but while Amy possessed all the verification she needed, AEGIS required confirmation by a medical professional and she’d yet to make an appointment. Though he was not her superior, he might get suspicious if she kept running off to the bathroom.

She swallowed hard and turned to meet his gaze with her emerald eyes. "Carter, there’s something I should tell you."

He switched off the ignition and the car shuddered to a stop. His eyes, mirrored his concern, but otherwise his face showed nothing of what he was thinking. For the longest time the pair peered at one another neither speaking.

"I-I’m pregnant," she said finally managing a response.

Rathdrum blinked, and gripped the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. "Pregnant?! How far along are you?"

"A few weeks. I-I haven’t even reported it yet, I only just puzzled it out before we left and—" She met Rathdrum’s gaze and froze. There was something in those eyes she didn’t expect, relief.

"For a second there, I thought you were going to tell me you were terminally ill," he said with a shake of his head a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"So morning sickness?" He asked nodding toward her peppermint tea, nestled in the cupholder.

Amy nodded, snaking a hand out to retrieve her beverage. "Some days are worse than others. This morning was one of the bad ones."

"I suppose that means the rumors are true about what happened that day." He peered at her out of the corner of his eyes.

She took a sip and shook her head. She knew, without being told, of which incident he spoke. "A lot of strange things happened that day."

He pressed his lips together, but didn’t say a word. Amelia was being taciturn for good reason. Rathdrum took part in the Battle of the Downing Building, fighting alongside other AEGIS personnel outside while Agent Van den Broeke and a small group of exemplars fought within. Though he was part of the team that stormed the building in the aftermath, he knew precious little of what transpired when Amelia and Psyren confronted the entity known as Chemosh.

Director Malcolm ordered that all material concerning Chemosh and the incident be classified as top secret and only be shared on a need to know basis. Amy was being tight-lipped because she had no choice. Though Rathdrum took part in those events, he had no reason to be apprised of the specifics and so they left him in the dark.

"Let’s get this over with Rathdrum. The sooner we can figure this thing out the sooner we can get the hell out of Tondzaosha." She popped the door open and slipped out of the car, moving toward the police station without glancing back.

Rathdrum, followed lurching out of the vehicle with only a second delay and sprinted to catch up. Van den Broeke was really pounding the pavement. Though much older, Rathdrum kept in shape and the effort didn’t wind him much even after his morning jaunt.

Their destination was a nondescript red-brick building with a glass facade. Dull orange embossed lettering on the glass above the entrance identified the structure as the "City of Tondzaosha Police Department". It was once a small locally-owned grocery store, Amy recalled. She used to pass it on the way home from school and often stopped in to purchase Hee-Haw bars. After the shop closed, the building had been vacant for many years and remained that way for at least as long as she lived in town. Why the city chose to change the location, least of all into an old market, was beyond her.

Amy reached the door first, only pausing long enough to hold it open for Carter before slipping inside. The interior was much different from what she remembered, the checkout stands and the beverage refrigerators near the front were gone, and save for a reception desk and a door in the back corner of the room, the remaining portion of the building was walled off. Instead of tiles, a dull gray carpet now covered the floors.

"Hello!" A wide-eyed young woman seated at the desk greeted them rising to her feet and planting both hands atop the desktop. "Can I help you?"

Amy reached inside her blazer, producing her badge, flipped it open, and held it in front of her. "I’m Amelia Van den Broeke with AEGIS, and this," she paused holding a hand out to her companion, "is Agent Carter Rathdrum my subordinate."

"Oh, oh!" The girl lurched sideways, navigating around the desk and jerked toward them extending both hands and rounding on Amelia. "Tom’s told me all about you I can’t believe we have real live AEGIS agents in town. That is soooo cool."

Rathdrum fought and failed to hide the grin that found its way onto his face and shook his head. Amelia took the young woman’s hand allowing her to shake it, a bit too vigorously, and then withdrew it looking back at her with wide eyes. Amy cleared her throat smiling. "Might we speak with Shanderly?"

"Uh, well," the young woman scratched the back of her neck. "He went out on an errand, but the chief said she wanted to speak with you."

"Well, please lead the way." Amy replied holding a hand out.

The girl glanced down at Amy’s outstretched hand, nodded and waved them toward a door at the back of the room.

"By the way" Rathdrum said as the girl was about to open the door. "I didn’t catch your name."

"Oh," she paused holding her lips in an ‘o’-shape. "The name’s Daisy, Daisy Fischer."

Amy’s stopped, shaking her head. She’d gone to school with a David Fischer, the girl could be a relative. The other two eyed her, but didn’t say a word as she stepped back into sync with them.

The area beyond the front desk was larger than Amy would have guessed, but not by much. They came out of a door on the north wall, a row of desks stood before them and along the opposite wall. An illuminated office, with the shades drawn took up about a quarter of the east wall, along with a row of seats, and a heavy steel door which Amy guessed housed the evidence locker. The west wall housed a men’s and a women’s bathroom and an unmarked set of steel doors. She doubted there were the usual locker rooms or break rooms Tondzaosha wasn’t big enough to justify the expense.

Daisy led them to the office, where she invited them to sit and disappeared inside. When the door closed behind her Rathdrum sighed, leaned back and shook his head. "Cute kid. I have a daughter about her age."

Amy nodded, turning to regard the man with a single raised eyebrow. Rathdrum didn’t talk much about his family least of all with her, but then again they weren’t what you call close friends. "I have a younger brother who’d be about the same age. Sometimes I wonder if he even remembers me. He wasn’t even four when I left."

"Must be hard," he replied. "I grew up in a big Mormon family can’t imagine what my life would’ve been like if we’d all been split up."

"You’re Mormon?" Amy blinked, surprised by the admission. Tondzaosha’s LDS population was large and she grew up with more than a few of their faith, but had only met a handful since moving to California.

"Nah." He waved it off. "Stopped going when I was about sixteen. Have an older sister who’s gay, didn’t much like the way they treated her. The wife’s Episcopalian, once in a while she drags me along to church with her, but truth be told I’m not much of a churchgoer."

"Uh, Agents?" Daisy peered out the door at them her big blue eyes as wide as saucers. "The chief’s ready for you."

After some shuffling about, she ushered Amelia and Rathdrum into the office and Daisy closed the door behind them presumably returning to her post at the front door.

Upon entering Amelia regarded the woman behind the desk recognition mirrored in her eyes. She was quite attractive in her youth, Amy recalled, but it had long since faded away. Her cold steel-blue eyes regarded the pair without a hint of emotion displayed on her face.

Gwyneth Avery, was a deputy when Amy first met her and back then, she’d already developed a reputation as a bit of a hard ass. Slender and slight of build, she somehow intimidated any who crossed her even men twice her size.

The night Amy’s father beat her half to death, it was Officer Avery who tackled the man, somehow wrangling him to the ground though he had almost a hundred pounds on her. Afterward, when Amy thanked her, she shrugged and said she was "just doing her job." She hadn’t said a single word to her after or since, but Amy would never forget the role she played in saving her from that hellhole. She did not indicate that she recognized the Agent, but she hadn’t yet transitioned when last they met, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise.

"Van den Broeke, and Rathdrum, I take it?" She asked watching each of them a frown creasing her lips and held a hand out to a pair of chairs opposite her. "Sit down."

The agents exchanged glances, but did as instructed. "I admit, I don’t much like the thought of you two nosing about town, but the mayor’s is all up in my ass to figure this thing out. The last time, we had a case this strange, someone blew the goddamned police station to shit and we still don’t know what the hell happened."

Well, that explained why they relocated the police station, Amy thought ruefully.

"Someone blew the police station up?" Rathdrum asked, surprised mirrored on his features.

She shrugged. "It was maybe thirteen years ago. We had some reports of a weirdo walking around with a staff which wouldn’t have been so noteworthy if there weren’t a trail of bodies everywhere he went. Never found any evidence that he murdered anyone, and the coroner couldn’t even determine a cause of death. The last time we heard anything on him, we got a tip he was wandering around in Ammon Park, the chief at the time sent me and another officer out to talk with him, but it was a wild goose chase. When we returned, the station had been blown to smithereens and everyone inside was dead. Damned odd considering they didn’t find any explosive devices or evidence of gas leaks. After that, staff-boy disappeared into thin air and so did any leads we had on him. "

"And now you have a girl turn up all these years later, dragging a sword around and babbling on about sorceresses and kings?" Amy added, emerald eyes trained on the Sheriff. "I could see why that’d make some people nervous."

"I am curious why, this wasn’t included in any of the reports Shanderly gave us. He didn’t even mention anything about it when we asked him about similar occurrences." Amy leaned forward, surprised at such an obvious omission. She’d had time to browse the files while Rathdrum was retrieving their rental.

"Because everything we had on the man with the staff, including the detective working the case, was destroyed along with the old police station. Shanderly’s family moved to town, several years after it was over, I doubt he knows anything about it."

Amy sighed, shaking her head in frustration. She had no idea whether the two events were related, but it sounded like a good lead. Too bad it was a dead-end.

"Right, well if there’s nothing else—" Amy started, but Avery pounded her fist down on the desk.

"I just want to make one thing clear. I don’t care for secretive government agencies, least of all one that’s nosing around in my town. Tom filled me in on the details of your conversation last night and I don’t much like the sounds of it. I’m willing to play ball for now, but if you hold back anything regarding this case that puts Shanderly or any of my people in danger, you’ll find out just how uncooperative we can be, you understand?"

"Of course." Amelia nodded putting on her best reassuring smile. "AEGIS’s primary concern has always been preserving lives."

Avery frowned again and leaned back in her chair. "Riiight, well I suppose you’ll be wanting to look at the sword. Shanderly can get you into the evidence locker when he gets back in a few minutes."

Amelia rose to her feet, but paused her hand still poised over the back of the chair, remembering a mystery from the night before. "On the report of the incident with the girl, the witness’s name had been blacked out. Any reason why?"

"What? No, I know nothing about that. Must have been on your end," she looked up at Amy, eyebrows shooting up past her bangs. "We wouldn’t have any reason to hold something like that back."

Amy eyed the chief of police, furrowing her brows. She didn’t believe the chief was lying, but what reason would anyone with AEGIS have to keep that information secret? Then a thought occurred to Amy and a cold chill worked its way down her spine. "You wouldn’t know the witnesses name off the top of your head, would you?"

When the Chief spoke the name, Amy gasped.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

The name belonged to Serena van den Broeke, her mother.

Amy knew it was her even before the chief finished speaking. She’d only met a handful of Serenas in her life, and her mother had been the only one the entire time she lived in Tondzaosha. True, she went by her middle name in those days, but aside from a few cousins and an uncle there were no other Van den Broekes in town. 

Her mind raced at the revelation, and she bit her lip. Someone blacked out her mother’s name on that police report and she very much wanted to understand why.

As she muddled the mystery over a name came to mind, and if she was right, she might even have an explanation. Director Malcolm, the head of AEGIS, took a personal interest in her almost from the day they met, and he was the one who ordered her, however indirectly, to come to Tondzaosha. If it was him, he must have presumed she would do anything to avoid speaking with her mother again, and he would have been right. She could have passed the case on to a subordinate claiming a conflict of interest. No one would have given it a second thought. 

The question was, why would the Director commit a federal crime by altering an official police report to ensure she came to Tondzaosha? Why would it be so important that she be there? Malcolm was a hard man to understand, considering he wasn’t even human.

But what if it wasn’t the Director? When the thought occurred to her out of the blue, brought another cold shiver. Perhaps someone in the police force had blacked out the name. Any of them might have had the opportunity, even Daisy or Chief Avery, despite the latter’s assertion otherwise, but for what reason? More perplexing, how did they know AEGIS would send her?

She thanked the chief and slipped out of the room. Rathdrum nodded at the woman and followed suit.

"Serena Van den Broeke. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that she’s a relative of yours," he said glancing about the room. It seemed like a casual gesture, but Amy doubted that there was anything that Rathdrum did which was casual. He was probably checking to make sure no one would overhear him speak.

"My mother." Amy peered back at him with a guarded expression.

He did not press her for details regarding her before glancing toward the north wall. Amy’s eyes soon followed his gaze at the sound of footsteps approaching, never so glad for the distraction. Deputy Shanderly had several paper sacks, and a coffee cup carrier in hand as he approached, giving the agents a good idea just what sort of errand he’d been on.

"Agents!" He beamed, then looked about the empty room, save for the agents and himself. "Uh, let me just drop off Chief Avery’s breakfast and we can get underway."

He set all but one bag down and pulled a coffee cup free from the holder before disappearing into the chief’s office. Amy watched him go, her arms folded across her chest and head tilted. She’d thought little about Shanderly asking her about her name the previous night, but the more she ruminated over the idea the more likely it seemed he’d been fishing for information. Shanderly wrote the original report, he must have made a connection. Could he have been the one who blacked out her mother’s name?

The deputy returned snatching a coffee from the cupholder and turned to regard them with wide eyes. "You want anything? I’m sure the others won’t mind."

Amy shook her head still experiencing nausea from her morning sickness and Rathdrum declined. Shanderly took a long sip from the cup and sighed. "The best part of wakin’ up," he grinned and turned back to them. "Chief says you wanted a look at the sword, we can pop into the evidence locker. Should only take a few minutes."

Amy regarded Shanderly for a moment longer, still uncertain of him, but agreed. She had nothing but her suspicion at this point and until she puzzled out who was responsible, she couldn’t act. Just what she needed, she emitted a long breath of air, another damned mystery to unravel.

The deputy led them to the heavy steel door and unlocked it with a set of keys retrieved from his pocket. He swung the door open and ushered them inside. "It’s not much," he said placing both hands on his hips. "But it serves our needs."

He wasn’t kidding. Amelia peered at the cage at the back of the room and the shelves along the walls. AEGIS had bigger broom closets. The entire building would fit inside the AEGIS evidence lockup back home. That being said, their facility in New Hebron housed a fair number of dangerous artifacts confiscated as a matter of course, or handed over to them by other agencies.

At first, Amy didn’t spot the sword as her eyes scanned the room with casual disinterest. The shelves housed boxes, which she knew from experience would contain case files. The cages were for more dangerous or illicit items, weapons, drugs and whatever other odds and ends they’d come upon. It was there that she spotted the weapon, the bottom obscured behind an AR-15 and a baseball bat.

Amy drew closer, eying it her lips pressed together in a thin line. She knew next to nothing about melee weapons, save for the butterfly knives and switchblades used in street fights. Though she’d seen one or two swords, they were movie prop replicas. This looked more substantial. It was huge, close to five-feet long and gleamed with an almost silverish sheen.

"Yeah, that’s it," Shanderly said slipping in front of her. He produced a pair of leather gloves from inside his pockets and opened the locker with a second key. A moment later he turned about sword handle clenched in both hands. "It’s the darnedest thing, try to touch the thing with your bare hands they feel like they’re on fire."

"You had anyone look at it?" Rathdrum asked kneeling down beside the sword.

Shanderly tilted his head up and down. "Yeah, a gaggle of egghead professors and undergrads from the university up North. They ran all sorts of tests, even ran a Geiger counter over the thing and nothing. One of them, an archaeologist, I think, said the script," he indicated an array of symbols engraved vertically across its surface. "Is from some old European runic alphabet, but that it was inconsistent with the style of the sword. By the time they started making great swords, like this," he said turning it in his hand revealing the opposite side of the rune-engraved blade. "Most of Europe was using some variant of the Latin alphabet like we do today."

Rathdrum and Van den Broeke exchanged glances, but neither understood the implications of the statement. "So, what does that mean?" Rathdrum asked his hand hovering inches from the blade.

"Uh, well. I asked the same question he said it’s probably fake, or at least someone added the runes after the fact. He seemed to think it was hand-forged, and suggested that running a metallurgical analysis would give us a clue when it was made. The materials and methods used apparently vary throughout—"

Amy held a hand up, and Shanderly stopped eyes glued on her. She didn’t care about the particulars of the blade’s make-up or history save how it pertained to the case. What mattered to her was finding out how and why it worked and how the girl came into possession of it.

Amy approached the sword, kneeling down beside Rathdrum. She did not touch it, instead studying the features of the weapon with a critical eye.

Amy was entranced. There was something about the blade, it radiated an energy the like of which she’d never experienced. Every object had a certain ambiance, but this one emanated such power it was palatable. Without thinking about it, she drew her hand out, her slender fingers touching a rune that resembled an uppercase ‘M’. The pain was instantaneous and she gritted her teeth sweat dripping down her forehead. It felt as if she’d touched a searing hot brand. She closed her eyes, attempting to steady her breath, but her chest heaved and she panted still trying to fight it off. All at once, everything faded away.

Images flashed before her taking on a familiar amber tinge. A figure stood in a torch-lit corridor, its features bent and contorted, its face resembled a lion, but its body looked human. The figure dove forward, the sword clenched in its hands rounding on a second figure. She tried to distinguish its features, but it became lost in a flash of light. She saw armies waged in battles, humans fighting more of the lion-men and a figure gripping a slender black staff in the distance hurling energy blasts in their midst. More images came and dissolved away, another lion-man or person or perhaps the one she’d seen at the beginning, she couldn’t be sure, pulling the sword free from a sheath. Another flash, a lion-man, a lion-woman, and a human woman dressed in flowing gray robes confronting a figure in all-black. The images increased in frequency, coming so fast that she could only distinguish them as flashes of light and color.

She screamed, but it was too late. There was another burst of illumination, and she caught a brief peek of the evidence room, just in time, for a explosion of energy to surge out from the sword and send her slamming into the opposite wall. The entire backside of her body erupted in fiery-hot agony and the darkness came to sweep her into the abyss.

Official Report
Alameda General Hospital
Alameda, Idaho

Amy stopped peering into the mirror, her hands still poised over the second to last button on her blouse. She kept looking at her reflection expecting to see her face covered with bruises and cuts after being thrown across the room. Each time she caught sight of the mirror her blood ran cold. Granted, it was her back that impacted the wall, but she didn’t sustain a single injury. She had received no bruises, cuts, scrapes, breaks, or sprains. Hell, she hadn’t even broken a nail. That should have been cause for celebration, but it made no damn sense. It put Amy on edge.

She felt the force of the impact before she blacked out and it hurt like hell. Unless you possessed healing powers, or a significant other with them—she added a slight smirk touching her lips—you didn’t walk away from something like that without some sort of injury to show for it. She quizzed Rathdrum and Shanderly, upon waking in the hospital, but neither had answers for her.

She touched her belly, biting her lip, and thought of the child. The ER doctor was all too happy to run a pregnancy test and gave her reason to hope. In the early weeks of pregnancy, a uterus was tucked behind the pelvic bone providing more protection to the child than if she were further along. He didn’t seem to think the child had been harmed, but only time would tell. If Sapphira were there, she mused, she would be able to tell if anything were wrong.

A light rap sounded from the door, and she sighed reaching for her blazer. "Come in," she called out without turning back to the door.

"Andy?" The voice was soft, and though it sounded a fair bit more careworn than she remembered, it was as familiar to her as if she just heard it yesterday. Amy froze, blazer still clenched in her hands, heart hammering in her chest. The moment she feared since first coming to Tondzaosha had at last come and much sooner than she expected.

Amy craned her neck around, peering at the woman who stood in the doorway. Her own emerald green eyes looked back at her, and the agent sucked in her breath eying the newcomer with wide eyes. Serena Margaret van den Broeke, had changed little in the intervening years. Oh sure, there was a fair bit more gray in her hair, and the crows feet at the corners of her eyes were new, but her face appeared far more youthful than the agent would have expected.

Amleia bore more than a passing resemblance to Serena, enough that it was plain for anyone to see they were mother and daughter. It was from her she inherited her olive complexion and dark hair.

A set of simple blue scrubs, an id badge hanging from her breast pocket, and a stethoscope draped about her shoulders identified her as a member of the hospital staff. A nurse? When had that happened? Given her mother’s tendency toward hypochondria, it seemed an odd choice of vocation.

"Maggie." Amy shifted her body, so she was standing opposite her mother and folded her arms across her chest.

"Actually, it’s Serena now." She stared into Amy’s eyes, hands clenched about the bottom of her scrub top jerking on the hem. "I needed a change after the divorce."

Amy stared at her, jaw clenched shut, heart still hammering and mind racing. Her mother had long preferred her middle name over her first, but that seemed a rather insignificant revelation when she let the rest of her mother’s statement sink in. She arched an eyebrow, but still did not speak.

"How’d you find me?" Amy asked, at last, releasing a long sigh.

She shrugged. "A mutual friend pointed me in your direction."

"Shanderly." Amy nodded and folded her arms across her chest. The deputy had been in to see her earlier, apologizing for the ‘accident’ as if it were his fault. It appeared he encountered her mother somewhere along the way out.

"I mean, God," Serena shook her head. "It’s gotta mean something that you’re here now. I don’t even usually work the day shift, if Karen hadn’t called in, I—"

Amy arched an eyebrow, and the other woman fell silent. The agent didn’t put much stock behind that sort of thinking, subscribing coincidences to God was her mother’s province and Amy possessing a more logical mind had ever been the doubter. She made her thoughts on her mother’s beliefs known long ago and if the look on Serena’s face was any sign, she hadn’t forgotten.

"Just look at you." Serena cleared her throat and cupped a hand over her face. "You’re beautiful, if I didn’t know any better—" She trailed off. "Just finding you after so long looking like this, I don’t have any idea what to say."

Amy wondered what her mother would think if she were aware that she was pregnant, but chose not to illuminate her on that matter. If Serena learned she possessed the body of a ciswoman, she wasn’t sure how she would react. Would it validate her gender dysphoria or would it make itseem as if she’d been ‘fixed’? It was a question she’d been struggling with since her transformation and she was no closer to uncovering an answer.

"Then don’t say anything," Amy said slipping on her blazer. "I didn’t come here to make peace. I have a job to do."

"Right." Serena nodded. "Shanderly told me a little about that. An AEGIS Agent. I never figured you for the type for law enforcement."

"As opposed to a nurse?" Amy raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

"Fair point. Andrew, I know this doesn’t mean much, after what your father and I put you through, but I’m so—"

"Don’t," Amy cut her short, decades of anger and bitterness spilling out like a dam burst. "You don’t get to waltz back into my life after all this time, apologize, and expect me to come running back into your arms. You stood by while that man denigrated me, demeaned me, and beat me half to death. Do you honestly believe a simple apology will cut it?"

Serena stood frozen in place staring at the other woman, fighting back tears. "No, you’re right."

Her mother didn’t say another word and neither did Amy, at first. The agent regarded her, sighed, then shook her head, a hand coming up to straighten a bit of hair. "It’s Amelia."

"What?" Serena asked her eyebrows shooting up past her bangs.

"I go by Amelia now," Amy said her cheeks burning, biting back a scathing rebuke.

"Amelia." Serena nodded tugging on a stray bit of hair. "I know this is hard for you and I know that you probably want nothing to do with me, but it’s good to see you."

Amy didn’t say a word. There was a time she wanted nothing more than to confront her parents and give them a piece of her mind. She thought long and hard what she would say if ever given the chance and planned out so many speeches. That had been a long time ago, and throughout most of her adult life, she’d convinced herself that she’d put it all behind her, but the truth was despite all the beatings and the harsh words, she wanted what everyone wanted, a family. She just wasn’t sure she could afford to let her mother back in again.

"David and Erica would love to see you again if nothing else," Serena said.

Amelia’s head jerked around at the mention of her two younger siblings, but remained silent realizing that she left one out. Brian was only a few years younger than herself and the one whom she’d been closest. She hadn’t heard from, or spoken to him in years, but of all her siblings it was Brian with whom she most regretted losing contact. She wouldn’t mind seeing her two youngest siblings again, but given that David was only five and Erica six when they last saw one another, she doubted they would remember much about her.

"Maybe Brian too. If you can find him. He hasn’t spoken to me in years," Serena added after a long pause. "I guess, he paints me in the same shade as your father."

Another knock came from the already open door, and Carter Rathdrum, stepped in sight, freezing in place when his eyes took in the pair of women. "Uh, did I come at a bad time?"

"Rathdrum," Amy replied. "Just give us a moment would you?"

Silence permeated the room. Rathdrum nodded, regarded the pair one final time and disappeared from sight.

"Look," the agent said turning back to her mother after several long seconds. "I’m not interested in having a relationship, that ship has sailed. You regret what happened, good, at least you have some remorse for the shit you put me through, but I put this all behind me a long time ago. I don’t want to rehash it just so you can feel better about yourself."

The words sounded harsh even to Amelia’s ears, but she would not take them back. There was a part of Amelia that wanted to reconnect with her mother, but another part, the larger part, was afraid of being hurt again.

Serena took a step back, flinching as if the younger Van den Broeke had slapped her. "I-I understand."

Amy took several steps toward the door, then stopped remembering that she would need to question her mother about the girl. "You have a phone number?"

Serena froze furrowing her brows, caught off guard by the abrupt turnabout, but Amy only shook her head.

"You were the one that found the girl with the sword, right? We’ll need to question you about it," she added by way of explanation.

Serena nodded, slipping a hand into her breast pocket, producing a small notepad and pen.

She scribbled something down, ripped the paper free and held it out to Amy, lips pressed shut and tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Rathdrum, my associate, will contact you," she said, lips trembling as she tore the slip of paper from her mother’s extended hand, turned her back, and slipped out the doorway.

"Come on agent," she said, rounding on Carter, who was waiting a few dozen feet down the corridor. "We have work to do."

He nodded, glanced back at the door, before stepping into sync with his superior. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, but did not speak letting her lead him out of the hospital. Amelia was glad for the silence. A few warm tears splattered her cheeks, but if the other agent noticed he didn’t say a word.

Official Report
En route to Ammon Park
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"You doin’ all right, Van den Broeke?" Rathdrum asked out of the blue, both hands clasped on the steering wheel.

Amy glanced at him and exhaled a contemplative frown marking her face. "I’ll survive. About what happened in the hospital…" She trailed off peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"Is none of my business," he finished for her. "If you want to tell me about it I’ll listen, but I wouldn’t think any less of you either way."

Amelia nodded and cast him a grateful smile. She eyed him, trying to get a better read on the agent, but Rathdrum was a hard one to understand. What must he think? He must have noted the resemblance between her and her mother and put two and two together.

"You know, we never talked about what happened in the police station," she said eager to change the subject.

"No." He peered at her frowning. "You get thrown across the room like a rag doll by a magic sword and walk away without a single bruise or scratch and we’ve barely even discussed it."

"Magic sword? Didn’t you say yesterday that this case was someone’s idea of a bad joke?" She asked, almost smirking at the memory.

"Given recent events that particular theory needs some revision." He winked and cleared his throat. "In all seriousness, did you get a read on the thing? I assume that’s why you touched it."

Amy bowed her head and massaged her temple. Psychometric retrocognizance, that was the name AEGIS scientists had given her ability, but no one understood it least of all herself. She knew what her powers did, but if there existed a scientific explanation for how it worked she’d yet to hear it. There seemed to be residual energy imprinted on items present during certain events, the stronger the emotions tied to the events the stronger the imprint. She intuited that much herself, but there was no way in which they’d been able to measure or otherwise detect the energy she sensed.

Something triggered her power when she touched the sword, but she had not summoned it and that puzzled her. It could mean one of two things, either there was something strange about the weapon which, judging from the vision, was at least partially true, or her powers were evolving. She shivered at the very prospect. It would not be at all unprecedented. She knew of several cases where an exemplar had grown more powerful for no detectable reason. Was the same thing happening to her? Was that how she’d walked away uninjured?

She nodded, turning to regard him. Rathdrum didn’t need to know of her suspicions just yet. "What I saw didn’t make a lot of sense. It was so distorted, but there were armies clashing, and anthropomorphic lions fighting figures in robes with melee weapons. It looked like something out of some old fantasy movie, but with better special effects."

"Shit, lion-people? This gets weirder and weirder," he said. "Maybe you’ll be able to sense something helpful at the park."

Their conversation died away, and Amy swallowed hard as his last statement sank in. What if she used her ability and was again tossed away like a rag doll? She’d come away unscathed the first time, but there was nothing to say it would be the case if it were to happen again. Could she risk endangering her child a second time?

Until that moment, she had not once given a second consideration to putting herself in dangerous situations. It had been for the greater good, but this time around she wasn’t just putting her life in danger. She bit her lip, sighed and closed her eyes. Why did her life have to be so complicated?

Amy peered about, awash in a flood of memories. She’d walked past Ammon Park almost everyday on her way home from school and in her early years had climbed about the big toy and swung across the jungle gym. Her eyes stopped studying a familiar patch of ground recalling a family picnic. There had only been four of them in those days, though Erica and David weren’t born yet, those were happier times for Amelia. Her father, hadn’t yet taken to beating her and… he was even pleasant… at times.

It took her several moments to spot the burn mark. It rested near the center of the park and while it was in direct line-of-site to where she stood, the shadow of an old shade tree obscured it. Even with the caution tape around the outside it was difficult to spot. She made a beeline for it, not bothering to check if Rathdrum followed.

She stopped outside the outer perimeter, ducked under the tape and knelt down to get a better look. Shanderly’s assessment had been more or less accurate. The grass was scorched in a three and a half foot radius, the old shade tree’s trunk rose from the ground intersecting the circle of burnt grass along the outer perimeter across and to the right from her. A pair of spring-mounted animals, a seahorse and a panda sat within the ring.

Neither the tree trunk, nor the spring riders showed even the slightest bit damage from the fire. She bit her lip and studied the charred ground. The burns formed a near-perfect circle. Whoever set it must have used a chemical accelerant, it was the only way the burns would be so uniform, but the grass was all that was damaged.
"Damned odd." Rathdrum knelt beside her, his hands sifting through the scorched earth.

"You can say that again," a voice spoke and both agents turned in tandem to meet the newcomer, an older man wearing worker’s overalls, and a well-worn leather tool belt packed with a spade and other gardening implements.

"Now, why don’t you tell me what in tarnation you think you’re doing?" The old man asked planting both hands on his hips.

Amy rose to her feet, Rathdrum tailing her, and produced her badge. "Special Agent in Charge Amelia van den Broeke with AEGIS, we’re just taking a look around."

"The hell? Didn’t expect that. Name’s Jerry Norham I work for the city," He dropped his arms and shook his head. "Ain’t never expect to see AEGIS agents show up in lil’ old Tondzaosha. Might I inquire as to your interest in this here patch of ground?"

"We’re here investigating some strange occurrences here in town, we think what happened in the park may be related," Amelia answered slipping her badge back into her blazer. "I don’t suppose you can tell us anything about it, can you?"

"Hell." Jerry scratched the back of his neck. "Not a lot, there was some talk of a fire and some lunatic wanderin’ about in a robe, but I ain’t never seen no fire that could burn grass and leave everythin’ else untouched."

"Pretty damned odd," Rathdrum said from beside Amelia. She turned to regard him between pursed lips, but didn’t speak up as he continued. "You mind if we take a sample?"

"I trust you won’t take long. I’m already behind schedule, I don’t need you dillydallying about and wasting my time."

"Uh, should only take a few minutes." Rathdrum smiled, glancing over his shoulder.

"In that case knock yourself out." The old man shrugged and gestured over his shoulder. "I’m just gonna tear it all out anyway. I’ll be fetching some supplies from my truck if you need anythin’."

Jerry traipsed off, disappearing from behind a copse of trees. A moment later Amy turned to regard Rathdrum with an upraised eyebrow. "Soil samples?"

"It’s easier than trying to explain your powers," he smirked and shrugged. "Besides." He produced an evidence bag from within his suit coat. "A soil sample’s not such a bad idea."

Amy nodded, regarding him for a moment longer, then knelt once again on the outer edge of the circle, slipped a hand into the charred soil, and closed her eyes. The memory of the incident with the sword still vivid in her mind, she hesitated for the barest moment, then opened her senses. Her surroundings faded away and the vision came.

Official Report
Ammon Park
Tondzaosha, Idaho

A gentle breeze wafted through the air, and moonlight spilled out from the sky casting the world in an unnatural hue. Lights glistened in the distance, but save for a solitary streetlamp on the opposite side, the park was unlit.

Amy ran a slender hand through her mop of long dark hair and inspected her surroundings. Save that the patch of burnt ground was missing, the park was unchanged within the vision’s landscape. The world was awash in amber hues, a side-effect of her ability with which she had no control.

Amy focused all her attention on the spot where the burn mark had been and for several long seconds nothing happened. Then, a burst of color coalesced out of the empty air, beaming its cobalt illumination upon the empty landscape. Expanding and forming into a giant ball which hovered, spun, and pulsated in the open air before lowering to the ground.

Amy froze mesmerized by the light show. She’d seen something like it before, summoned by an ancient machine recovered from the ocean by a naval deep sea diving team. The once-god Chemosh stole the device from the AEGIS research facility, but not before Ashtar appeared from within, transported across the cosmos from God knows where, to combat the other immortal.

This time there was no machine, the ball of illumination had been conjured out of thin air, but just as before a figure materialized from within. The sphere faded away, revealing the massive frame of a being seven feet tall. The creature turned its enormous frame toward her, and Amy stepped back looking into its eyes. It bore the face of a lion, but the body of a man. It didn’t see her, but instead looked past her into the distance, its maned head swinging this way and that.

What she was witnessing was an imprint, an echo of the past. The creature could not see her because she was not viewing live events, but ones which had already occurred.

The lion-man stepped forward clutching at a wound in his side before falling to one knee. He blinked, his head again surveying the landscape and Amelia noticed for the first time, the blood dripping from a second gash in the side of his head. Amy sucked in her breath, the lion-man possessed the same injuries as the girl found with the sword.

Then she spotted the weapon. It lay on the ground at his feet, darkened by his shadow, but she could just make out its outline, it bore the same runic markings as the one in the police evidence lockup.

She released her breath as the implications dawned on her, but before she could give it more thought the creature roared. She glanced up at him in time to see his whole body quiver.

His hair faded away, dissolving into the open air. She glanced at his feet, thinking to spot clumps of it on the ground, but it seemed to have disappeared. The beast moaned as an audible crack sounded from within his gargantuan frame and Amy watched transfixed as his muzzle retracted into his face. Luminous golden eyes, stared into space, wide with terror, as the rest of his countenance reconfigured itself.

Lion’s ears, wiggled atop his scalp, oozed down the side of his head like a slug slinking across the ground, and reshaped themselves into less remarkable human ears albeit ones that seemed too small for his huge skull. A raised patch in the center of his face ballooned and expanded into a slender human nose that was again, much too small for his proportions. Eyelashes, extended out from around his eyes, and his flat lips plumped out even while a shock of blond hair spilled out from atop his head.

Another crack sounded from within his skull, an inhuman screech of pain escaped his lips, his head popping and the flesh beneath molding around it as it shrank to a size to match his smaller facial features. Amy enfolded a hand around her mouth, her suspicions confirmed. The face of a girl in her late teens looked back at her, blood leaking from a gash in the side of her head. It was the same girl who’d shown up with the sword, Amy recognized her from the photos in the report.

He shrieked, falling onto his side, as his neck, shoulders and chest also began to metamorphosize, shrinking and popping to match the face. A soft moan, this one sounding far more human and decidedly feminine escaped his lips. For a moment, the transformee peered out, looking into emptiness, his massive arms hanging uselessly from his slender shoulders. There was a pleading look to his eyes, as if begging the air itself to render aid.

Muscle withered away and his arms jerked, retracting into themselves, massive paw-like hands popped receding into a pair of shrinking palms. A piece of shoulder armor with fur fringe and a set of leather bracers fell away from his arms landing on the ground with a series of soft thumps. Breasts budded out from his chest, exploding out as the rest of his torso dwindled away. Hips realigned, popping and creaking, fat deposited around his hips and posterior as his legs and feet reshaped. A gurgle escaped the soon to be new-girl’s mouth and her eyes grew wide as a pair of slender hands slid inside her kilt. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head just before several loud cracks sounded from her tiny frame and the girl lay still.

Amy approached, swallowing hard as she bent over to examine the new girl, a frown creasing her lips as her mind raced. Blood seeped from a gash in her side similar to the one on her head and Amy licked her lips, wondering how she’d sustained the wounds.

She could infer that someone sent the girl from some other location, perhaps even another world or state of being, but what prompted the transformation? There had been no warning, she just hunched over and started to change.

What the hell was going on here? Her senses were screaming at her that she was missing something very obvious, but try as she might she couldn’t reason what that might be. She bit her lip, catching a movement out of the corner of her eyes.

A tall spectral figure enshrouded in a dark robe materialized out of the darkness, its legless form hovering in the empty air toward them. Amelia backed away to get her best vantage point and waited for it to get closer. It stopped a few feet away from the girl and extended an arm out. No hand or arm was visible from within the sleeve, only darkness. She peered into its hood, but detected no face. The specter didn’t seem to possess a solid form at all, and Amelia bit her lips studying the apparition. How could such an entity exist? Where had it come from?

Fire erupted all around the girl’s slender frame in a perfect circle, burning away bits of armor scattered about her body, before eating away at the harness and kilt, and consuming the massive boots that still enshrouded her feet. No smoke emanated from the flames. Though they looked natural, they did not behave like regular fire. The flames consumed the ground around her and every bit of fabric, metal and leather that had once adorned her flesh, but the sword, a nearby tree, the surrounding playground equipment, and the girl’s flesh remained untouched.

The blaze soon died away, revealing the patch of burnt Earth as it existed in the present. Throwing its other arm out so they were both extended, the spectral figure advanced toward the girl. She sat bolt-upright, breasts wiggling on her chest as she peered about with wide, wild eyes. Blood gushed from her wounds, but somehow she crawled to her feet, knelt to retrieve the sword, and began to stagger forward, the blade of her weapon dragging across the ground behind her.

When Amy’s eyes turned back to regard the apparition it had disappeared…

Amy blinked, and the present world resolved into crystalline clarity around her. Her stomach lurched and for a second she thought another wave of nausea had come upon her, but instead the world around her darkened. She peered up, sensing movement.

A woman with long dark hair approached. The light seemed not to touch her, and Amy could not make out her face. She moved as if fighting against some unknown force and there was a dark murk that surrounded her, which grew more and more visible as she approached.

"He’s coming… you have to get to the girl before it’s too late." Her voice echoed through the air, disconnected, emanating both from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Before Amy could respond, the woman faded away like ink dispersing in water. She remained there for several long seconds, still grappling with what she’d seen both within the vision and the mysterious woman’s sudden appearance and disappearance.

She caught snatches of conversation in the distance, lifted her hand out of the soil, and rose to her feet. Turning to find Rathdrum and Norham who were speaking a few dozen feet away, Amy studied the pair her arms folded about her chest and her heart racing.

The implications of her vision and the woman’s appearance still fresh in her mind, she swallowed hard and let herself consider the possibilities.

The strange way in which the woman materialized suggested an extra-sensory ability, but who was she and how had she known to appear to the agent? Amy had interacted with only a handful of people since coming to Tondzaosha, and fewer still knew why she came. She must be part of the latter group or perhaps someone connected to one of them. The agent hadn’t recognized her face, but it was shrouded in shadows. In such a situation, she might have trouble recognizing her own mother’s face.
There was the vision to consider. If the sphere was a portal, did it mean the girl had come from another world? Certainly, it would not be of the sort from which Ashtar transported. Before her transformation the girl looked like some sort of barbarian warrior, which suggested she had not traveled from a technologically advanced civilization. The images conjured from the sword would seem to support that, but how then had she come to their world?

Perhaps they were too quick to dismiss the girl’s claims of sorcery. Amy mused a wry grin stretching across her face. Either way, it appeared Rathdrum was wrong, they hadn’t been sent on a wild goose chase after all.
She needed to get to the girl fast and make sense of what she’d seen. Whatever that robed apparition was up to, Amy doubted it had come to spread peace and goodwill.

Amy surged forward both fists clenched at her side, feeling a new sense of urgency. She stopped long enough to grab Rathdrum’s attention and motioned for him to follow, not once acknowledging the other man before continuing on to the car.

She slipped inside, taking the drivers seat while she waited for Rathdrum, a pit forming in her stomach as the seconds ticked by. When Rathdrum opened the passenger side door and seated himself beside her, a frown creased his careworn face.

"Van den Broeke, what’d you see?"

She gritted her teeth turned to regard him and shook her head. "We need to speak to the girl, now."

Official Report
En route to Grove City
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Amy filled Rathdrum in as she drove, telling him everything she’d seen, but avoided discussing her suspicions. Rathdrum could draw his own assumptions from her descriptions, she didn’t need to cloud his thinking with what ifs. When she concluded her tale, he sucked in his breath and shook his head.

"So we have a seemingly magical sword that makes anyone who touches it with their bare flesh feel as if they are on fire and has, in at least one case, thrown a person across the room, some sort of anthropomorphic lion who appears out of thin air and subsequently transforms into a human girl, a robed apparition with freaky fire powers who tried to cover up said transformation, and a woman who materializes out of nowhere and warns you that the girl is in danger. Yeah, we’ve definitely walked into a big old shitfest. Goddamn, and I was hoping this one would be an open-and-closed case."

"Has it occurred to you that this woman might not be on the level? What if she’s in league with our robed friend?" He asked after a brief pause.

Rathdrum didn’t go into specifics, but she could read between the lines. If this woman was lying, she might be leading them into some kind of trap, but what purpose would that serve? Why appear to her at all? She must have known they would be visiting the girl at some point. 

Whether her spectral visitor was trustworthy was immaterial at this point. If the girl was in danger, they couldn’t afford to let the phantom get to her before they did.

Amy turned to her subordinate and perhaps he saw something in her eyes. He released a long breath of air and jerked his head back and forth. "We’re going to be taking a little field trip, aren’t we?"

Amy nodded, lips pressed together in a tight frown.

"And here I was going to suggest we call it quits for the day and pick things up tomorrow," Rathdrum muttered with a shake of his head.

Amy glanced up at the sky, the sun still blazed overhead, but dusk would soon be upon them. Under ordinary circumstances she would have been all too happy to retire to her hotel room, but all her instincts were screaming at her that something was amiss. If they didn’t get to the girl soon, they might never have the chance to speak to her.

"Get the state mental hospital in Grove City on the horn, notify them we intend to pay the girl a visit."

"Should I inform Shanderly? He said he would like to be there when we interrogated her," he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Uh, we talked when you were in the hospital," he added.

Amy neither wanted nor required the deputy’s help, but there was something to be said for cooperating with the locals. At the very least, it might keep Chief Avery off her ass.

"Notify them both, just try to keep the deputy out of the way if you can. From what I read in their reports his last encounter with the girl was less than friendly."

Moments later, Rathdrum had the mental hospital on the line and Amy pulled their rental onto I-15. Though the agent didn’t show it, she could not escape the sense that somethingwas about to go very wrong and it filled her with dread.

Kruhl lay curled in a ball upon her bed, numb and tired from her ordeals. These people were mad, she had determined as much after her first session with Dr. Harrison. He seemed intent on learning everything about her, but shed doubt on whatever she told him as if he believed her entire life story was a lie, and try as she might she could not understand what was the purpose of the stiff sheets of white parchment with the black stains. Utter nonsense all of it, and yet she sensed there was a motive to the strange man’s actions.

She sat upright, stretching her arms out and glowered at the intruder that had taken up residency in her crotch and shuddered. She felt it again, that simple biological need. It didn’t seem so different, but the very fact she needed to sit down to relieve herself made the act unbareable. She closed her eyes, and cupped her face before at last forcing her eyelids back open, slipped out of bed, and stood before the metal basin attached to the base of the sink.

They called the infernal thing a toilet and she scowled at it, before slipping her pants and panties around her ankles, shuffled around so she was facing away from it and seated herself shivering as her butt cheeks touch the cold metal seat. Another of her tormentors, a tall woman dressed all in white, seemed amused that Kruhl did not know how to use the device and had instructed her with a smile stretched across her long face.

Oh, how she hated the woman in white. If it had been just that one instance she might have been able to put the wretched hag out of mind, but after coming awake in this prison, the doctor, and the loathsome female walked in on her naked, weeping, and exposed. Angered by the intrusion and seeing her chance to escape, she lurched for the door the moment she locked eyes with the man, but she had been unsuccessful. The woman, lightning quick, despite her size lurched forward, slammed all of her body weight into Kruhl and pinned her to the ground.

Escape would have been futile, Kruhl reminded herself. Much of what she’d seen was foreign to her, but she recognized the barred door at the end of the corridor for what it was, a security barrier. They had not permitted her pass through it, instead they led her into another room, forced her into a chair and strapped her in place. That had been the first time she’d encountered the woman, and the others had been no less humiliating.

She put thoughts of the woman in white out of her head and peered down at her privates. She had tried ignoring them, pretending that they were not there, but it seemed counter-productive. This was her lot in life it seemed, to be trapped in this body, tormented by strangers and left to rot away in these walls for the rest of her life.

Urination as a human female wasn’t so different, she experienced the same pressure and released it with the same little push, but there was no way to aim. When she finished up, she wiped her nether regions with a square piece of the cloth the woman in white had called toilet paper and washed her hands in the sink.

When she hunched over to retrieve her pants, she slipped them back up her waist, but paused lips pressed closely in a frown when her eyes locked on her vulva. She dropped them, her heart pounding in her ears as a hand slid down, almost of its own volition, and slipped an index and middle finger inside the cavity between her legs. She shivered at the sensations that arose.

She pulled her finger free, bracing herself against the sink and bit her lip. Cold shivers worked their way down her spine and she stood there panting glancing at the bed, cheeks burning as she considered what she might do with this new found understanding. She never needed to pleasure herself on her own world. Even as a boy on the cusp of manhood there had never been a shortage of willing females, but in this new place she was isolated and often left to her own devices.

She had far too much time to think and wallow in her own self pity. At least this way she might distract herself. She stepped out of the trousers, leaving them in a heap on the ground, and slipped into bed, fingers working their magic. When she clenched her eyes shut a moan slid out of her mouth.

[Kruhl] The voice spoke out of the open air.

Her eyes snapped back open as a black ichor resolved itself in the air before her. It twisted and contorted, shrieks and howls rang through the air and she shrank back pressing herself against the wall. A cowled head resolved itself before her, the inside as black as the deepest pit.

[I’m coming for you] Cold laughter reverberated through her mind and Kruhl clenched her eyes shut, shielding her face with her hands expecting the creature to attack.

When it did not, she risked a quick glance. The apparition had disappeared and she propped her back against the wall a cold chill working its way through her whole body.

She stared into the empty air, shuddering at the prospect of an attack, but if that was its intent no assault came. Kruhl remained there naked from the waist down frozen in terror, all too aware just how vulnerable she was in her new form.#popmake-5560

Official Report
State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho

"I really must ask you to reconsider Agent, her mental health is already fragile as it is." Dr. Harrison regarded Amy and plunged both hands into his lab coat pockets. "You must realize that any information you may glean from her will be suspect."

Rathdrum and Shanderly trailed behind them, the latter walked hands inside the pockets of his suit coat a smirk touching the corner of his lips and the former seemed as if he were on automatic pilot, heedless of anything but putting one foot in front of another.

Amy kept her face neutral, suppressed a sigh and met his gaze. "I understand your concern, Doctor, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d interrogated an unreliable witness. If she can provide me with even one lead, it could be of great use to our investigation."

Harrison’s eyes scanned the agent, lips twisting into a sneer and nodded before releasing a sigh that seemed just a little too forced. "Very well, this way."

Harrison led them further into the building and Amy scanned her surroundings as they passed. One hallway was more or less indistinguishable from the next. The walls were flat white and they bore no adornments or furnishings. She’d been in more than a few hospitals, and while they tended to be sterile, this one took the cake. It felt and looked more like a prison than a place of healing. They passed dozens of rooms, but if any of the patients within were aware they were moving through the corridor, none called out. It was quiet, Amy thought, lips creasing into a frown, too quiet.

The shadow woman’s warning came screaming back to the forefront of her mind. She had no reason to trust the mysterious apparition, but she would walk into any potentially dangerous situation unprepared.

She moved one hand into her jacket as if to reassure herself her pistol was still there and caught Harrison eying the weapon, his sneer curling into a scowl. Her insistence on bringing it into the hospital had been the first point of contention with the staff and later the good doctor and things had gone downhill from there.

Amy understood his reasoning, the very thought of a gun in the hands of a mental patient was enough to give anyone pause, but she knew of no agent who would have agreed to give up their only means of defense unless they were obligated to do so by law or ordered by a superior officer. She would have been a fool to do so under the circumstances, there were too many unknown factors and at least one potential threat, two if the shadow woman was not on the level, and three if you counted the girl.

The room the doctor led them to was at the far back of the corridor. He flicked the lights on and gestured them inside. Once inside, he regarded them each before promising to return with the girl, a pretentious smile stretched across his wide face and disappeared through the door.

"Pleasant fellow," Rathdrum remarked, leaning against the wall. "Seems quite convinced of his own moral superiority."

Van den Broeke didn’t comment. She pressed her lips together and emitted a long sigh. She turned toward Shanderly who had taken up residence on one of the seats in the room’s corner. The deputy was hunched over and his skin was a shade or two paler than usual.

"Shanderly, you all right?" Rathdrum asked beating the other agent to it. "You’re looking a little worse for the wear."

Shanderly’s eyes shot up and he met the other man’s gaze. "Uh, don’t think my lunch quite agreed with me. I’ll be fine, just let me sit for a while."

The agents exchanged looks but didn’t press him for details. She couldn’t say why Shanderly’s sudden sickness did not sit well with her. Her hands shook and she peered down at them before slipping one into her blazer. She did not have nerves of steel, but she wasn’t the type to get herself so worked up. Something felt wrong about this whole ordeal and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Van den Broeke took the time to surveil her surroundings. The room possessed the same sterile white undecorated walls as the rest of the hospital. The only furnishings were the row of seats where Shanderly had seated himself, a long steel table and matching chair were bolted to the ground and a pair of padded seats sat on the opposite side.

Amy turned, catching movement out of the corner of her eyes, an inky black substance slinked through the air in the doorway and a form jerked into view. The shadow woman stood before her. Amy strained her eyes trying to get a better look at her face, but, other than a vague outline, all she made out was her eyes.

"They’re coming now. Be ready," the woman said, peering over her shoulder at Shanderly before turning back to meet Amy’s gaze. "And don’t trust anyone they–"

The visitor stopped, glanced back into the corridor, before dissolving into the air like a wisp of smoke. Amy sucked her breath in, eyeballing first Rathdrum then Shanderly, neither seemed the slightest bit aware that anything strange had happened and she wasn’t sure she should illuminate them. Yes, the stranger had warned her of danger, but she doubted the deputy would open to the idea of portents of doom from an apparition only she could see.

"Rathdrum," she said slipping a hand over her holster and released the thumb break. "Be prepared."

Rathdrum stiffened, snaking a hand up to strain his tie and turned to meet her gaze. It seemed almost as if someone had flicked a switch. The facade he so carefully laid out evaporated, laying bare the man who lurked just below the surface. Here stood a person who knew what to do in a fight, someone who did what was necessary and didn’t pull any punches. He didn’t enjoy that side of himself, which is why he kept it locked away, but he was always ready to let it out, like a lion unleashed from its cage. All pretense of good humor had faded away from his face and all his rough-edged features seemed all that harsher.

When Harrison returned, he stopped dead in his tracks, peering through the doorway like a deer ready to bolt. He eyed Rathdrum and Van den Broeke, no doubt picking up on their shift in demeanor and shook his head as he stepped inside.

A slender figure bound in restraints that was so tiny, Amelia mistook her for a child, came next, and was trailed into the room by two orderlies adorned in all white coveralls. The taller of the pair, a woman with broad shoulders and a stern frown moved to secure the door behind them, while the second an aging skeleton of a man with a shock of scraggly brown hair guided the girl toward the steel chair and began to fasten her in place.

The girl did not make eye contact with anyone, staring down at the floor instead. Amy might have supposed that it was the behavior of a beaten and dejected soul if not for the fire that burned within those golden cat’s eyes. She had the look of a caged lioness, one who had accepted she’d been imprisoned, but who was biding her time until she had the opportunity to escape.

A loud clang sounded from the door and Amy’s hands shook, and she slipped one of them inside her blazer. The lights flickered and the room went dark.

Official Report
State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho

"What the hell?" Rathdrum panted, eyes wild as they roved the darkened room. Faint overhead emergency lights provided the only illumination, revealing the forms of the two agents, the doctor, the orderlies and Shanderly in the corner, but little else. Rathdrum, who stood just below one, was the only person whose face was visible.

Carter moved to the doorway, reached for the latch and swung back to Amelia, shaking his head. "It’s locked."

Amy didn’t answer, she drew her gun keeping both it and her eyes trained on the entrance. Only daring to look away to glance at Shanderly. As she suspected, the deputy was hunched over in his seat, unmoved since the lights went out. She frowned and arched an eyebrow, but didn’t voice her concerns.

Though Shanderly appeared to have taken ill, if she was right, they would soon have much bigger problems.

"Oh for hell sakes, Ms. Felch, get the damn door open." Harrison said scowling at the two Agents as if they were idiots and waving at the female orderly.

"Carter," Amy said, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "Get the girl, and get her out of those restraints, if we come under attack, she’ll make for an easy target."

"Now agent, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but—" Harrison moved to block Rathdrum’s path, shadowed on either side by the pair of orderlies, but froze when shrill, hysterical laughter rang through the room. It was coming from Shanderly.

"Harrison!" Amy exclaimed. "Get away from him, now!"

He did not move, glancing back and forth between Van den Broeke and Shanderly. It was difficult to tell in the gloom, but it looked to Amy like Harrison’s brows were furrowed in confusion. The younger man leveled his gaze on her and Amelia stopped unprepared for what she saw. Shanderly’s eyes were glowing blood-red. At the sight of this, Rathdrum rushed to release Kruhl’s restraints.

He lurched up, lips curling out to reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth, a low wolfish growl rumbling from his throat.

"You should listen to her." Shanderly smiled, his voice taking on a rough almost wheezy quality.

"Shit," Felch cursed under her breath, backing away, pulling her younger peer back with her. She attempted to draw the doctor away with her, but Harrison remained planted in place.

Shanderly pounced, clawed hands slashing at the doctor’s throat. Blood splattered all over Rathdrum and the doctor’s lifeless form crumpled, falling to the ground at the agent’s feet. Carter ducked, hands releasing the last of Kruhl’s straps about her ankles. The creature that had once been Shanderly raked his claws down, slicing at the young woman, but she jerked her head sideways before his claws could find purchase. She kicked out, landing a blow between his legs and he howled doubling over both clawed hands cupping his privates.

Kruhl pounced over the side of the chair, landed on all fours like a cat, and rushed toward the relative safety which Amy provided. Rathdrum, did just the opposite, standing and training his gun on Shanderly.

"Hands where I can see them," the older man said between gritted teeth.

Shanderly froze, blood-red eyes peering up at Rathdrum, features stretched into a horrendous grin. With inhuman speed, he lurched sideways toward the orderlies. Rathdrum peppered the space he’d vacated with bullets, but his opponent was too quick. He slammed into his targets, tossing the man into the steel table where his skull impacted with a sickening crunch and a splash of blood. The deputy spun the woman around and tightened an arm around her throat, shielding himself with her body.

The creature pulled his free hand back, balled it into a fist then slammed it through the woman’s back, and out the front of her chest, spraying her blood and entrails all over. Before either agent could again open fire, he raised her lifeless body and tossed it across the room, straight into Rathdrum.

He rushed toward Amy, but her pistol was ready. Van den Broeke opened fire. The first shot impacted his right shoulder, but he kept on coming, seemingly unaware of the injury. Amy dropped all pretense at aiming and just fired shot after shot until her clip was empty. Each time the bullets hit home, sometimes impacting his torso, but once it struck his cheek. Each time, blood splattered from the wound, but still he came.

Amy dove out of the way just before he reached her, sliding a hand inside her blazer for a spare clip and turned to face him. By then, Rathdrum had untangled himself from the woman’s corpse, and risen to his feet, gun blazing. Shanderly lurched toward the second agent, giving Amy enough time to reload, then she too was firing upon the deputy. At last, he fell to his knees no longer able to shrug off their weapons fire. With one great screech of pain and rage, Shanderly’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the floor, dead.

"Fuck," Rathdrum cursed under his breath, returning his pistol to its holster. "And I thought this shit couldn’t get any weirder."

Amy did not re-holster her weapon, but instead, moved toward Shanderly, knelt beside him, and checked for a pulse. Unable to detect one, she lowered her head and let out a long sigh.

Though the light was still scarce, she furrowed her brows as she examined the body. She snaked an arm out and lifted one of his hands, his fingers had reverted to the stubby digits he possessed before, but stranger still there was no blood anywhere on either hand. She peered into his mouth, which hung agape, and again spotted nothing unusual. His sharp teeth had disappeared, replaced with garden-variety pearly whites. When she pulled an eyelid open to look into his eyes, they too had regressed. There was no sign that he’d ever transformed, nor did there seem to be any evidence that he slaughtered anyone.

Her mind spun, thinking back to every case she’d worked and the AEGIS case files she’d read. She’d never heard of anything like this.

"Rathdrum, check the other bodies, see if you can’t find a key. Something tells me, Shanderly was only the tip of the iceberg." Amy said, eyes still peeled on the corpse.

The other agent moved away, and Amelia remained in place. Still thinking.

"He was a skeada," a soft high-pitched voice spoke up and Amy started, her eyes finding the girl, her tiny form bathed in shadows. Amidst all the tumult she’d forgotten the other had been there at all.

When the other woman did not respond, Kruhl cleared her throat and stepped forward, "A creature changed by dark sorcery, to become an assassin, only revealing their altered form when it is time to kill. Death is the only release from such a fate."

Amy pressed her lips together green eyes, never leaving the girl as she moved toward her. She was quite pretty, even with the cat eyes. Though small, she possessed curves in all the right places.

Amy wasn’t quite prepared to ascribe Shanderly’s transformation to magic, despite her musings to the contrary. No, this had to be something else. Perhaps Shanderly was the victim of some advanced genetic manipulation for which Kruhl had mistaken for sorcery or, she added another theory occurring to her, Shanderly had possessed some new exemplar ability. Either way it seemed likely they were dealing with a very dangerous enemy.

A loud clang sounded from the door and both agent and mental patient turned to watch Rathdrum swing the door open.

"Well," Carter said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "I don’t know about you, but I’ve had about enough of this place."

Amy nodded, and paused, turning to regard Kruhl, who stood looking at her with wide eyes. She would need the girl’s cooperation, but though she had a better idea who and what she was since her visit to the park, that didn’t mean she could trust her.

"Don’t worry," Kruhl said with a harsh growl that sounded far too rough to have come out of such a tiny little thing. "You saved my life. That much, at least, has earned you my cooperation until we’ve reached safety."

The agent hesitated only a moment and nodded. She didn’t like any of it, but like it or not, Kruhl seemed to be at the center point of this whole mess and she couldn’t very well leave her there to get killed.

"All right," she nodded.

Kruhl stalked forward, hunkering down on her hands and feet, luminescence eyes seeming to glow in the darkness. "I will lead." She stepped through the doorway and peered back. "I see better in the dark."

"Perhaps," Amy replied, her voice flat. "But Rathdrum and I are armed."

Kruhl’s golden eyes gleamed, as she peered back at the agent, but then she stepped back into the room and gestured for the other to lead the way.

Amy moved forward, slipped through the doorway and jerked back as the sounds of weapon fire resonated through the corridor.

"Oh hell," Amy cursed, again raising her weapon. "Why can’t these things ever be easy?"

Official Report
State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho

Van den Broeke swallowed, her back to the wall and bit her lip, eying Rathdrum who’d taken a similar pose on the other side of the doorway.

The other agent shook his head, and Amy licked her lips. She’d emptied all of her first clip and most of her spare when firing on Shanderly, and it seemed that Carter was in a similar predicament.

"This could be it," Carter said, his voice strangely calm as he turned his steel-grey eyes on her. "It’s been a pleasure serving with you Van den Broeke."

"We’re not dead yet agent," Amy cocked an eyebrow, a worn smile creasing her lips.

Though she saw no means out of their predicament, she would not voice her disquiet. They were trapped inside a room with only one exit and God knows how many armed assailants bearing down on them from without. It was a miracle they’d survived Shanderly’s attack, but she doubted they would defy the odds again. If she were to go down, it would not be without a fight.

She glanced back at Kruhl. The girl’s slight form was hunched down against the wall, golden eyes luminescing in the darkness. Though she returned her attention to the doorway, she pondered what the other must think. If she was from a more primitive world, as Amy suspected, she had seen nothing like their handguns.

Before she finished ruminating, the first of their attackers rushed through the door. Rathdrum downed him with a single shot to the head, but two more took his place. They were wearing full-body tactical gear and moved with the fluidity and ease of battle-hardened soldiers. Both agents opened fire, but while they downed a few, they were quickly outnumbered. Worse yet, they were out of ammunition.

Amy dropped her gun, and Rathdrum did the same a moment later, each holding up their hands in surrender. The foremost of the assailants held an arm up signaling the others to stop and reached up with both hands to pull off her face mask. Steel-blue eyes peered back at her, and Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. It was Gwyneth Avery.

"Amelia van den Broeke, Carter Rathdrum, you are under arrest for the murder of Thomas Shanderly." She stated in a cold flat voice, without once glancing at the deputy’s corpse.

Avery glared down at them, hands on her hips. Her eyes were distant, seeming to look past them and into some distant horizon that only she could see. There was a glossy quality to them, as if she’d been drugged. It raised the shackles on the back of Amy’s neck, and she shivered with the realization that the older woman was being influenced.

Amelia did not speak, peering at the chief with lips pressed together in a thin line. The tactical gear she and her minions wore was a little too sophisticated for a Tondzaosha cop. It was of the type used by AEGIS personnel and big city SWAT teams. The semi-automatic rifle she bore went for around fifteen-hundred dollars, which was well outside the budget of a small-town police force.

"A little outside your jurisdiction, aren’t you chief?" Rathdrum demanded, glaring up at the woman. His eyebrows shot so far up his brow Amy thought they might disappear into his close-cropped hair.

The chief clenched her jaw, anger smoldering in her eyes. She lifted her weapon, and a flash of movement caught Amelia’s attention. A delicate form pounced on all fours, a shriek of rage emitting from the attacker’s throat. Before the chief opened fire, Kruhl was on her, fingers raking her face like claws.

Avery shrieked out a cry, so full of rage and hatred it wasn’t even recognizable as human, and grappled with Kruhl. Hands finding purchase on her shoulders, she flung the girl away with a second, louder howl.

She again raised her rifle, no doubt to fire on the girl, but Rathdrum was already moving forward, his larger frame intersecting the two combatants. He dove forward, but Avery’s finger had already squeezed the trigger. A barrage of bullets pummeled his mid-section, each landing home with a spurt of blood.

Amy cried out and ran forward. Gunfire rang through the air and she flung her palms out as if to shield herself. Everything froze in place, bullets stopping in mid-air, attackers standing so still they may as well have ben mannequins.

A new awareness bloomed within her. She didn’t just see and hear those around them, but felt them too. Every molecule, every cell within their attackers’ bodies registered within her awareness. The very walls themselves, having once seemed so flat and devoid, were teaming with life. Bacteria, germs, and other microorganisms swarmed across its surface oblivious to the massive entities that shared their space.

Bullets hung in the open air, frozen in place by Amelia’s will. She stood there peering down at her hands, realization at last dawning on her. She had experienced an awakening of sorts, the same kind that her lover had undergone. It was how she walked away without a single bruise after being thrown across the evidence locker, and, she added, it was what had caused her transformation all those months ago. She didn’t understand why it had taken so long for her powers to come awake, when Sapphira’s had lasted mere hours, but she was damn well going to make use of it. Now if she could just figure out how…

"What the—" Avery stopped leaving the sentence unfinished eyes locking onto Amelia.

Amy clenched her jaw, focusing all her will on the bullets, sensing the texture and weight of the metal with her mind. She closed her hand into a fist, and watched the projectiles fall, one by one.

She cocked her head, eyes never once leaving the chief, and cocked her eyebrows in challenge. In answer, Avery rushed forward, pulling a knife from her boot. Amy was ready for her. She threw out an open hand and sent her flying into the opposite wall. The impact produced a lout thump, and the other woman slumped to the ground unconscious.

Amelia extended her senses, feeling for signs of life in Rathdrum, thinking perhaps she might heal him as Sapphira had once healed her, but his heart was still.

Hot tears stung her cheeks as she rounded on the remain attackers, surging toward them, fury building inside of her. She took one step toward them, and they bolted for the doorway. The last to exit possessed enough presence of mind to slam the door shut as he departed. Not that it would be much of an impedance to Amelia in her present state, but she had other plans.

She fell to her knees at Rathdrum’s side. She didn’t check for a pulse, she needed no confirmation. Instead, she placed two opened hands upon his chest and closed her eyelids.

She reached out, extending her senses into his body, probing each of the bullet wounds, first drawing the projectiles free, then willed the flesh to mend, but nothing happened. She reached further, bidding his dying cells to do something, but they did not respond.

Her mind raced. Why wouldn’t it work? Was it because he was already dead, or was there too much damage? Or, she added her heart sinking as she considered the possibility, perhaps she did not possess the same ability set as Sapphira.

A weight touched her shoulders and she turned to peer into Kruhl’s strange luminous eyes. "He is dead," the other woman whispered. "We need to leave before they return for us."

Amelia nodded, slipped her hands over his still open eyes and closed them. "I’m sorry, Carter. I promise your death won’t be for nothing."

She wrenched herself away, rose to her feet, a sob escaping her lips as she fought back tears. She shook her head and faced away from him, eyes scanning the door. The longer they stayed, the more likely their attackers would return, but could they dare leave through the hallway? It would be far too easy for someone to pick them off in such tight confines.

Clenching her teeth, the agent spun around on the balls of her feet, fist clenched at her side, decided on a course of action. She threw one hand out, sent a wave of telekinetic force toward the exterior wall and grunted from the effort. The sheetrock rippled and exploded with so much concussive force that it shook the whole room.

The agent threw her hand up to shield her eyes from the fragments of wood and sheetrock that came raining back on them and rushed forward, slipping through the opening before the dust had even settled. Kruhl followed in her wake, strange eyes scanning her surroundings.

They’d come out on the far side of the parking lot, splashes of red and blue colors illuminated the walls in the fading daylight. Police cars ringed the parking lot, and dozens of armed officers stood ready, weapons drawn.

Amy raised her open palm and swallowed hard, preparing for another attack. Kruhl ducked behind her, a low-rumbling growl coming from her throat. There was a moment of silence. The police froze, perhaps surprised by the odd duo’s sudden appearance.

At last a car horn sounded from the street beyond and a battered old Leland Quad bashed its way through the line of police cars and swerved toward the pair of escapees. The vehicle jerked sideway, tires screeched as it came to a halt, mere inches from Amelia. The passenger side door swung open, revealing the slender form of a woman in the driver’s seat.

"Get in!" she screamed, a hand reaching up to pull a sweat-drenched strand of hair from her face. Though her features were unfamiliar to the agent, she recognized her voice at once. It was the girl who’d warned her about Kruhl.

Official Report
State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho

Gunfire rang out all around them, and Kruhl rushed forward on all-fours, springing into the Pygmy in a single bound. Amy hesitated only a second before following the other and slamming the door shut behind her.

"Hold on to your asses," their rescuer said, pounding her foot on the gas and the old SUV lurched forward, rock-climbing tires squealing as it blazed a trail through the volley of bullets that rained down upon the ground.

Amy grabbed Kruhl by the front of her shirt, pulling her down and out of sight. "Stay down," she hissed in her ear. "You’ll be dead real quick if one of those bullets hits you in the head."

Amy doubted that the former warrior king had any idea what a bullet was, but as such things go, it was hard to mistake her meaning for anything but a warning of danger. Kruhl nodded, as the Pygmy’s engine roared, and their mysterious new friend took it out on the open road.

Amy craned her neck around, staring back as several police cars swerved out of the parking lot behind them in pursuit. She swallowed, staring at them, her jaw tight and a fire burning in her eyes.

She didn’t understand what happened, but her instincts told her she was being manipulated and she always trusted her gut. That being said, survival was her primary concern at the moment. Anything else would have to take a back seat.

Pygmys were many things, but they were not renowned for their speed. Their rescuer flattened the gas pedal against the floor, but the police still gained on them. If they were to escape, it would not be by outrunning their pursuers.

The agent focused all her will, extending her senses out. A bird flew above the car out of her range of vision, but she sensed it soaring on a pocket of air. It’s hunger was so palatable to her it seemed as if it were her own. It’s eyes pierced the clear blue sky seeking out it’s next meal.

A man stood by the roadside just a short distance away. His thoughts were easy to read. The chase brought a thousand wild different possibilities to his mind. Were they bank robbers or perhaps murder—

Amy shook her head and forced his thoughts out of her head. She had access to a new world of thoughts, feelings and impressions. She could spend days using her newfound abilities to pry at every little detail, but she would not allow herself to get distracted.

She focused her will on the foremost of the pursuing cars. Bracing herself, she reached inside the cab and pushed down on the brake pedal with her mind. The vehicle came to a screeching halt and the one behind it, unprepared for its abrupt stop, plowed into it, shredding through the bumper.

"Shit, how the hell did you do that?"

Amy blinked, regarding the woman, and massaged her temples, her whole head throbbing in pain. "I, uh, I—" She managed only a few syllables before she doubled over, the world beginning to spin.

Kruhl touched her shoulder, but she had already drifted away. The driver licked her lips and cursed under her breath.

"Is she all right, I mean did she—" She left the question unfinished, but Kruhl seemed to understand.

Kruhl regarded Amy’s inert form sprawled across the passengers seat, turning her head, luminous eyes gleaming.

"She breathes," the girl turned her gaze on the mysterious woman.

"Well, Andy’s not the only one with a few tricks up her sleeve." She glanced at Kruhl, a toothy grin spreading across her face as she slid a hand free of the steering wheel, clasping it over her throat.

A dark morass rippled across her eyes until they turned a deep depthless black and an inky haze billowed out through the cracks between her fingers. It oozed out the windows, flowed along the side of the SUV and shot out until it spanned the length of the street and until it disappeared into the horizon.

Nothing was visible beyond the wall of dark mist. Even the red and blue of the police lights did not penetrate the haze, but the wail of their sirens was still audible. That too soon faded before dying away.

When she dropped her hands, the smoggy vapor continued spilling out between the cracks in her fingers and her eyes remained black.

The woman turned the steering wheel, veering off into an underground parking garage and shut the engine down, after finding a suitable parking spot.

"We’ll need to find another ride," she offered as if by way of explanation her eyes returning to their previous emerald shade.

Again Kruhl only nodded, she sprang out of the vehicle, moving to help the other woman lift Amelia’s inert form from within the Pygmy. She had so many questions, but not regarding what the outside observer ignorant of her background might suppose. She came from a world where magic was commonplace and in which Sorceresses and Sorcerers regularly exercised their magics. The powers she’d just witnessed being wielded were impressive, but she had seen similar acts performed before.

No, the questions which most puzzled the former warrior king were, who chased them, how the strange boxy carriages within which they rode propeled themselves without some kind of beast of burden to pull them, and who was this woman that had come to their aid?

She did not press the woman for details, she would question her later when she was certain they were safe. Then, she narrowed her eyes studying woman’s lanky form, she would get some answers.

Sapphira Olivia Scott stopped massaging her temples and sank her teeth into her lower lip. A sudden flood of emotions washed across her like a heavy downpour. She stopped, closed her eyes, and planted one hand against the wall to steady herself.

"Amy," she whispered her lover’s name. Though what she sensed were not actual thoughts, Sapphira was familiar enough with the other to know whose mind she’d touched. Fear, anger, and grief came rolling into her on a tide that threatened to pull her under.

"Liv?" A voice spoke out and she snapped her eyes back open. Hailey had her hand on Sapphira’s shoulder and the exemplar bit the inside of her cheek, peering at the girl who, despite all evidence to the contrary, was her granddaughter.

They appeared close to the same age, though most would guess that Sapphira was a few years older. They were both attractive, but that was where any similarities ended. Sapphira towered over her granddaughter and possessed an hourglass figure the envy of so many others, while the other woman’s frame was slight, and though far from pale, she appeared quite ashen when she stood next to Sapphira with her chocolate brown complexion.

Not so long ago, Sapphira had gone by the name Everett Howard and had been well into her twilight years. Though she could never know if it was her intention, Ashtar gave her a new life and a younger body when she passed her powers onto her. Though it took some time for her to shed her old prejudices and accept the changes, it gave her the chance to reconnect with Hailey and win Amelia’s love.

"Liv!" Ashley repeated, echoing the first girl.

At first Liv had been Amelia’s own little pet name for her, but the other girl’s took a liking to the moniker and somehow it became the norm.

Both girl’s stood on either side of her and Jenn, Hailey’s girlfriend, positioned herself just a few steps away, twirling a finger through her long electric-blue hair, something she did when unsure what to do with herself.

"I-I’m fine," she held up a hand to ward the three girl’s off, "but I think Amy might be in trouble."

She regarded Jenn, and bit her lip, realizing she’d let something slip out she shouldn’t. Among them, only Jenn was ignorant of Sapphira’s true origins and powers, but back pedaling now would draw suspicion.

Jenn raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips together, but didn’t force the matter, instead folding her arms across her chest. It was Ashley that spoke next, casting a furtive glance at the other girl. "What do you mean?"

Sapphira regarded the leggy blonde, reminded of her origins that so closely mirrored her own. Ashley had once been a bit of a rival and sometimes ally, a super-powered bank robber with a penchant for rescuing ladies in distress who fancied Sapphira. Of course, that had been before she came to inhabit the body of the nubile young lady. Back when they first met she’d been a ‘he’ who’d been very proud of his African heritage.

Before she uttered a reply, the ring from an old-fashioned rotary telephone resounded from Sapphira’s pants pocket. Everyone froze, recognizing it at once as her ringtone. Without a word, she slipped one hand into her pocket to retrieve her Mittsuhoshi smartphone.

The number arrayed across the screen was not one which she recognized, but it had the same area code as Amy’s hotel. She doubted it was a coincidence that she would receive a call from the same region just moments after sensing such strong emotions from her life partner. She swallowed, swiped her finger over the display and put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

At first, there no answer came, but then an ear-splitting screech sounded through the earpiece. A wave of dizziness washed over her and before she knew what happened, her head hit the floor. The last words she heard were the other women calling her name before the darkness swept her away.

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Amelia sat bolt upright, chest heaving as she panted for air. She raked her hands out, but they only passed through empty space. The agent peered around, eyes not yet adjusted to the dark.

Her mind beginning to register she was not under attack, she cupped her face, sighed, and slid her hands away. She pressed one of them down on the surface upon which she laid. It was soft yet springy like a bed. Sure enough when she looked down, she discovered that it was just that. She peered about, seeing well enough now to make out a chest of drawers along the opposite wall and a door to her right.

"Good, you’re awake." A voice spoke out of the gloom behind her and to her left and she jumped, leaping to her feet, hand slipping inside her blazer for her pistol, but stopped when she spotted the face of her mysterious rescuer.

"How you feeling?" The woman asked, tilting her head, a very slight smile touching the corner of her mouth.

Amy massaging her temples, but nodded. "A little confused, but otherwise fine. How’d we escape?"

"You don’t think you’re the only one with powers, do you?" The woman’s smile broadened into a grin and a low throaty chuckle escaped her mouth.

Amy jerked her head sideways, turning to gape at the mysterious woman. There was something about that laugh…

"You’ve seen how I can project an image of myself. I can do other stuff too, mostly just illusions and light tricks, but they can come in handy in a pinch. I called up a dark haze the police couldn’t see through. Once, we gave them the slip, I took the Pygmy into an underground parking garage, jacked us a new ride, and brought us here."

Amy nodded, a sour taste in her mouth. What the woman did to ensure their escape may have been necessary, but it didn’t sit right with her. As an AEGIS agent, she made a vow to uphold the law. Breaking it, while necessary, went against everything for which she stood.

Her new friend drew closer, and Amy found herself looking into a pair of emerald eyes, a near twin to her own. Amidst the disorder of their escape, she never spared the other more than a sidelong glance. The agent gasped, a hand clasped over her mouth as she took in her rescuer’s features.

The younger woman bore a close physical resemblance to the agent. She had the same dark hair, green eyes, olive complexion and even an oval-shaped face. She was quite pretty, and there were enough similarities that most any passerby would surmise they were sisters. Her lips were thinner, and her nose wider, but there would be no mistaking the parallels.

The rescuer lacked the older woman’s curves, but Amy hadn’t developed those through ordinary means. No, this girl bore the same boyish figure and wide shoulders that the agent possessed after her transition, but before her transformation.

Amelia’s mind raced. Among her siblings only one other took after her mother in the looks department and it had not been Erica.

"Brian?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

The girl nodded, her lips trembling as she met the other woman’s gaze. "Yeah, sis’ it’s me. Just do me a favor, though. Call me Teressa."

Tears stained the agents cheeks and she threw both hands out, clasping her sister’s face before enfolding the other woman in her arms, her body racked with sobs.

After so many years, to find ‘Brian’ in such a way seemed unthinkable. She gave up hope of ever contacting any of her siblings, afraid that her parents poisoned them against her. Now she found that the one she had been closest to had undergone a transition like herself. It was an irony, not lost on Amelia, but one which she would overlook if it meant having her sibling back.

She cursed herself, ruminating over her childhood, attempting to recall any signs that her younger sibling was trans, but try as she might she could not conjure a single instance that even hinted the younger Van den Broeke was trans.

She pulled away, still sobbing, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes, but failing as they just kept coming. "You never said anything, if I had known—"

Teressa shook her head fighting back her own tears, but did little better than her sister. "You know how our father was and how he treated you. I thought maybe that if I tried hard enough I might hide it, and be the man that asshole wanted me to be. Then they took you away and the state scattered us to the four winds. They sent me to live with uncle Aaron, you remember Aaron, don’t you?"

Amy nodded, understanding what the other was trying to say. Aaron, their father’s half brother, was a youth pastor and staunch conservative. To his credit he treated his children much better than his younger sibling, but he wouldn’t have tolerated any behaviors he viewed as degenerate any more than Lucas had.

"But enough about that," Teressa smiled, still sniffling, but wiped the last of her tears away. "Tell me about you. Amelia van den Broeke, the big time AEGIS agent. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first laid eyes on you. God, that body! If I didn’t know better I would swear you were a cis-woman."

Amy let a smile touch her face, before emitting a long sigh. "I suppose I am. It’s complicated. I passed pretty well after my transition, but I wasn’t what you might call curvaceous. Then I got caught up in an incident in New Hebron and I ended up looking like this." She paused, motioning down at her body.

"It’s not something I can discuss, but let’s just say sometimes strange things happen to AEGIS personnel in the field. It’s how I wound up with this body and… gained the powers used against the police."

Teressa eyed her, a sober expression on her face. She pulled a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucked it behind her ears, and smiled. "God, if the evidence weren’t staring me right in the face, I would say you were yanking my chain, but even with surgery most trans-girls wouldn’t come close to a body like yours. I’m happy for you, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous."

Teressa paused, pursed her lips, a mischievous grin creasing her features before she at last spoke again. "I take it yours is an isolated incident? There isn’t a chance you would be able to spread the wealth is there?"

Amy regarded her sister. Though the statement seemed to be made in jest, the agent knew better. Even when they were young, Teressa had always hid her feelings behind a wall of humor. It wasn’t the most healthy of coping mechanisms, but when you had a father like Lucas van den Broeke, you managed the best you could.

She frowned. What would Teressa think if she found out she was pregnant? Amy put the thought aside. That particular bit of information could be revealed later.

"Ah well," Teressa said, a grin stretching across her face. "Can’t blame a girl for trying, can you?"

"About today." Amy cleared her throat, looking to change the subject.

"Today, you walked into the mother of all clusterfucks," she bowed her head. "We can talk about all that tomorrow. You need your rest. I really only wanted to make sure you were okay."

Amy bit the inside of her cheek and peered down at her hands. She’d lost consciousness after stopping the police car. When Sapphira had first gained control of her powers, they’d been erratic. Though her power set may have been similar to her lover’s, she thought it possible she had developed a different limitation. It would explain why she’d lost consciousness.

She glanced back up at her sister and nodded. There was no telling what use of her new abilities had done to her body, or… her child. "That’s probably a good idea."

Teressa took several long minutes fussing over her, and offering her assurances that she was safe, before saying her goodnights. Once the other Van den Broeke had departed Amelia sank back down into bed, hand on her belly and closed her eyes. She did not, however, go to sleep.

Instead, she reached out with her mind, feeling for the fetus growing within her womb. Though it was only just beginning to take the shape of the infant it would become, she knew it at once for what it was. She searched for signs of damage or injury, but sensed nothing.

She did not detect an awareness, but the child radiated… contentment for lack of a better word. It was a primal, simple emotion, lacking the complexities of even the youngest child, but it was more than she expected.

She emitted a soft sigh all the tension and anger fading away, and without quite knowing how, the agent drifted back to sleep.

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Ashley leaned forward, cupping both her palms over her face, blowing a long weary sigh of air out her mouth. It was well past two in the morning and she was finding it hard to keep awake. She shook her head and rested it against the the wall, closing her eyes.

It hadn’t even been twelve hours since Sapphira collapsed, and no one could tell them why. She peered up at the exemplars inert form atop the hospital bed, studying her face, and frowned. Her friend looked as if she were asleep, but Ashley knew better. The doctors said that her beta wave patterns were consistent with someone who was awake and alert. As far as the doctors were concerned, there didn’t seem to be any reason for her to be unconscious.

She brushed several long strands of auburn hair out of her eye and sighed, contemplating, not for the first time, chopping it all off. She was a natural blonde, but since she now possessed the body of a college co-ed, part of the condition that she remain in New Hebron was that she disguise herself. The colored contacts and hair dye were a part of it, but every morning she woke up and caked her face in several layers of makeup to conceal that she was wearing the face of a dead girl.

She never realized all the trouble women went through to maintain their looks until she’d actually become one. Even as the affirmed ‘tomboy’ of the group she still spent a jaw-dropping amount of time every morning prettying herself up and… though she would never admit it to any of the others, it was all worth it.

The girl’s cheeks warmed just speculating over it, but she liked the way her body made her feel, especially when alone with her boyfriend. A cold shiver shot down her spine just thinking about it.

Ashley stopped herself, remembering what brought her there, and bit her lip. Where were Hailey and Jenn? They left some time ago to get something to eat at Ashley’s insistence and had yet to return. She eyed the door as if willing them to come through, but they did not.

Still her eyes did not leave the door, and a few seconds later a soft rap sounded from its hardwood surface. She jumped, placing an open palm on her chest, and called out for the person on the other side to enter.

When the door swung open, a tall figure stood in the doorway. Ashley started watching him as he glided into the room. As usual Director Brian Malcolm of AEGIS was immaculately attired, resplendent in a custom tailored suit that cost more than most people made in a month. He slipped his left hand over his right wrist, adjusting a gold cufflink, and peered down at her.

"Ashley Harris," he nodded, glancing back over his shoulder at Sapphira before turning back to her, steel-gray eyes seeming to look right through her, a deep frown creasing his lips. "Let’s talk."

"All this time I’ve been fighting that godforsaken thing without knowing what it was, or even if it had a name." Teressa began biting her lip, Amelia and Kruhl leaning in close. It was the morning after the attack, and the three women had gathered to share their experiences and try to make sense of what happened.

They sat within a large family room in the house’s basement in which they’d taken up sanctuary. They were careful to keep the lights out and spoke in hushed tones to avoid drawing attention from the neighbors. According to Teressa, the owners of the home were away on a trip outside the country and wouldn’t be home for several more weeks.

"Odalrik." Kruhl bit her lips. "His name is Odalrik."

Teressa nodded. "Yeah, I put that much together from what you’ve told me."

Teressa was the last of the trio to share her story, Kruhl’s had been the most illuminating, providing answers for questions the other two had been trying to wrap their heads around. Neither sister questioned what the strange little woman told them, Amelia because of what she saw in her visions and Teressa because she’d witnessed so many strange things.

She regarded them both, pausing only a second before continuing. "I was living in Grove City when he first came for me…"

Shadows bathed the room. A low trickle of light from the rising sun peaking through the blinds provided the only source of illumination. Teressa sat up, retrieving her phone from the nightstand and glanced at the time. It wasn’t yet six. She felt alert, more so than usual, but didn’t think much of it, until a black form floated toward her materializing from within the darkness of the far side of the room.

It seemed to be a substanceless creature, only given form by the cloak it wore. She looked within its hood, but saw nothing save for a darkness. When it extended an arm out, even the sleeve was empty.

[Teressa] It spoke her name, it’s voice full of malice.

Teressa lurched away, crawling backward, but never took her eyes away from the apparition. It hovered toward her, the bottom half of its form passing through the bed, and continued onward. It backed her into the corner and she lay there back against the wall, trembling in terror.

[You will be mine] It spoke, its voice rumbling as a high-pitched cackle filled the air.

The specter brought its second arm up, holding them both before it, brilliant red light bursting from its extended appendages. Teressa shielded her eyes, the light growing so intense that tears streamed down her face. What its intentions were, were anyone’s guess, but when her attacker emitted a howl of rage, she sensed that it failed. She dove out of the bed, rolling through the specter’s dark form, cold needles prickling her skin for the brief second they occupied the same space.

Making for the doorway, she clasped one hand on her neck and threw the other up behind her. Inky dark haze exuding from her fingertips, she fled from the apartment. Her life, as she knew it, was changed forever…

"Odalrik came to me twice more, each time, was pretty much a repeat of the last. I don’t know what it is he was trying to do, but—"

"He was attempting to subvert you," Kruhl said out of the blue, a scowl on her face.

"It is difficult magic, even for one as powerful as he, but judging from what we’ve seen so far, it seems he has become quite adept at it. For whatever reason, he was intent on gaining control over you, but ultimately failed. You possess some power of your own, it’s possible it helped you resist him."

The warrior king pursed her lips, glancing at the pair of women. This is how low she’d sunk. She gritted her teeth, allying herself with a pair of humans. True, their abilities seemed quite formidable in their own respect, but before she could call on the might of all the Assar tribes of Eirdon.

Kruhl had more than once entertained the notion of striking out on her own, but it was a foolish idea. The once-king knew nothing of this realm, or its people. She would be a fish out of water.

"Shit," Amelia answered, then turned her attention to Kruhl, who was doing her best not to make eye contact. "What about these skaeda, could it be he wanted to make her into one?"

"The magics for creating a skaeda and subverting someone are… related, but to make such a creature as a skaeda requires acts best left to the imagination. Subversion is simpler, but it is not as effective, you don’t gain complete control over the victim, they are very suggestive to your will and the control can be broken. A skaeda remains loyal until the end."

Amelia sighed and leaned back in her armchair. "How many more of these skaeda do you think he has under his thumb?"

Lips pressed together in a tight frown, she released a slow breath of air, but still refused to look her in the eyes. "It is hard to say. As you might imagine, it would be difficult to find a willing subject to create a skaeda. In most cases, a sorcerer would need to break them into complete submission first. That alone requires a level of magical energy few practitioners of the dark arts can match. Odalrik is a powerful sorcerer, but I doubt even he could subvert more than a handful of individuals enough to create such creatures."

"Bottom line is, Odalrik’s been amassing power, he’s already gained control of the Tondzaosha, Alameda, and Grove City police forces and may have at least partial control of each town’s city council, maybe even their mayors," Teressa leaned forward clasping her hands over her knees.

Kruhl froze, finding herself staring at her exposed cleavage, and swallowed. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she glanced down at her chest where her nipples showed through the fabric of her blouse. She licked her lips, regarding first Teressa, then Amelia. If either woman noticed, they’d chosen to ignore it. The two long-lost siblings barely even acknowledged her.

The former warrior king folded her arms over her breasts and tried with little success to dispel thoughts of bedding the other woman. She never had the need nor desire to curb her sexual appetites and now that she was contending with a new and very different libido she could find no means of tempering it.

Worse, she found these humans attractive. If her father knew of her predicament, he would hang his head in shame.

She turned her golden eyes on the elder Van den Broeke and fought back similar thoughts. While both sisters were attractive, the agent possessed a much more interesting figure, and the thought of bedding them together… She swallowed again, this time harder, and looked away.

"All that is bad enough," Amelia replied. "But if he sends even one more skaeda after us, we could be in big trouble."

"If he does pray that is all he sends after us," Kruhl said shaking her head.

A cold chill racked Kruhl’s spine, and any thoughts of sex were dispelled by her imaginings of the perverse acts Odalrik once committed. Though she never witnessed them being practiced, she’d heard accounts of the sorcerer’s many appetites. Such retellings were not for the faint of heart. Though the siblings were quite tough for human females, Kruhl did not see the need to inflict them with the information. When she’d first heard the tales as a child, she’d been haunted by nightmares for weeks afterward.

She had learned much since they’d begun their ‘little chitchat’. Each woman had shared a piece of the puzzle, but as yet so much had gone unexplained. One question haunted her more than the rest. If the people under Odalrik’s thrall already had possession of Waldere, why had the shade demanded she tell him the location of the sword?

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Agent Van den Broeke frowned, eying the laptop screen, thrumming her hand against the tabletop. She’d searched the web far and wide, and there nothing about what happened at the mental hospital. Odd, damned odd. There was no mention of Kruhl, herself or Teressa anywhere on the web or the local newscasts.

She didn’t know what to make of it, she’d assumed their enemies would plaster their images all over the news. Why then hadn’t they? If this Odalrik was so powerful, why wasn’t he making use of that power and throwing everything he could at them? He must have some reason to keep the incident quiet.

She’d long since discarded her smartphone, knowing how easy they were to track. What if this alleged sorcerer had another means of finding them? She shivered at the thought and bit her lip. The agent reflected on Kruhl’s description of her encounters with the strange hooded figure. Like the once-king she considered it odd the specter of Odalrik, if it was indeed him, would demand Kruhl tell him where the sword was, if it was already seized by those in his thrall.

Either he had some motivation to deceive Kruhl, or there was another party involved. She gritted her teeth. If there was someone else mucking about in this mess, it would only spell trouble for the rest of them.

There was another oddity. She’d made two unsuccessful attempts at contacting AEGIS, in hopes of bringing in reinforcements, and both times had been unsuccessful. She didn’t know if she was being paranoid or not, but it was definitely cause for concern.

"What is AEGIS, Ameliavandenbroeke?" Kruhl’s voice spoke out of the darkness and Amelia turned to regard her tiny frame.

"Amelia van den Broeke," Amy said, pausing between each part of her name.

Kruhl blinked, and a feral smile crept across her delicate face. "Very well, Amelia van den Broeke, what is AEGIS?"

"The Agency for Exemplar Governance, Investigation, and Security," she replied. "It’s an arm of the government that assists individuals with special abilities to learn their powers and protect ordinary people from those who misuse them."

"So then, you are a teacher and a soldier?" Kruhl asked, cocking her head, golden eyes widening.

"Not exactly," Amy shook her head. "I’m no teacher. You might say those who help others to use their powers are, but I’m closer to a soldier. I protect others and seek those who would do them harm and bring them to justice."

Kruhl bit her lip, seeming to contemplate what the agent said, then nodded and pulled up a seat beside her. "This device," she nodded toward the laptop and leaned in peering at the keys and then up at the screen. "How does it work? Why does that rectangle glow like that?"

"That’s not a question I’m qualified to—"

"These characters!" Kruhl exclaimed, sweeping her hands across the keyboard, fingers jabbing at Amy until she slipped hers away. "The order is wrong, but it’s the Angol alphabet."

"The English alphabet," Amy corrected, sliding the computer out of the others reach. "And they’re out of order by design."

"English." Kruhl tested the word on her lips. She remained quiet, eyes fixed on the keys before shaking her head and glanced up at the agent. "Does it not seem strange to you we speak the same language?"

Amy pressed her lips together and nodded. "The thought had crossed my mind, but I’ve been a little more concerned about staying alive. There was an ancient group of peoples, in our own history, who called themselves the Angles. They occupied what is now modern England. I wonder… do your people have maps?"

Kruhl’s eyes peered up at her, and she nodded. "My father had one commissioned of Eirdon, Angol and much of the lands across the ocean to the South and East. It is one of the most extensive in all the lands. It hangs on the wall of my bedchamber."

"How well do you know it?" Amy asked.

"I burned it into my mind. I need only close my eyes and I can see it as clearly as if I were looking upon that glowing rectangle." Kruhl gestured at the laptop.

Amy nodded, keyboard clacking, as her fingers zoomed across its surface. When she finished, she turned the screen toward Kruhl. "Look familiar?"

Kruhl leaned close, studying the features of the map laid out before her, taking it all in. "It is," she said, lips parted in a scowl. "But the names and borders are all wrong. This island here is Eirdon." She paused, pressing her finger against the screen at Ireland."

Her finger slid down the map, stopping over an area that read ‘France’. "The upper part of this kingdom should be Nustra and down here we would have Quitar, Gascol and Septa. Over here, her finger strayed to the east and then north. "There is Burgne, and Austere, Sveba, Sa—"

She stopped peering up at the agent blinking as realization dawned on her. "This map is not of my world, is it? It’s of yours."

Amy met her gaze and dipped her chin up and down. "A region we call Europe."

Kruhl did not answer, but instead studied the map, frowning. A few seconds passed before she turned back to the agent and sank her teeth into her lower lip. "How could our realms be so similar?"

"Well, I’m no expert on the matter, but our scientists have theories concerning alternate or parallel universes. It’s possible you are from a reality very like our own."

Kruhl regarded her, a long sigh escaping her lips. "Your words are strange. Are you suggesting I come from a different version of this universe?"

Amelia nodded. "More or less."

"If that is true, I do not like the odds of ever returning home." Kruhl hunched over, looking into her open palms. "Which means I may very well spend the remainder of my life in this body."

Tears splattered her cheeks and her hands shook. "There are no Assar on this world. Did Reesha know this when she sent me here?"

Her lips trembling, she spoke, each word interjected by a sob. "Would you help me with something?"

Amelia regarded her out of the corner of her eyes before nodding.

"Will you come up with a name for me?" Kruhl asked turning her golden eyes upon the other woman. "If I am to live amongst you, it would seem appropriate that I have one of your names."

"I’ll give it some consideration."

Kruhl rose to her feet, leaned in and kissed the agent on the cheek before disappearing down the hallway.

Amelia watched her go, folding her arms across her chest and let loose a breath. Even knowing what she did of Kruhl and how she had treated her former subjects, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the once-king, but try as she might she couldn’t think of a single way she might help her.

With a shake of her head, she closed the laptop down, returning it to the shelf where she’d found it and trailed Kruhl down the hall thinking to console her. When she got to her door and raised her fist, she froze.

She lowered her hand and stared at the door, lips pressed together. Maybe something different was necessary. She turned away and moved down the corridor. Teressa was better at this sort of thing.

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Kruhl fell face first into the bed, her tears dripping upon the sheets. Another universe… The thought sent an icy chill down her spine. She assumed Reesha had sent her to another realm, a strange one to be sure, but if what the agent said was true, it changed everything. The realms all existed within the same universe, separate but not so separate they existed within different universes.

What hope had she of returning to Erda, her home world, if Van den Broeke was right? The prospect of spending a lifetime trapped in her tiny new body was almost more than she could bear. She was Kruhl son of Wurdan, King of the Eridon, and the bearer of Waldere, she knew it with every fiber of her being, but it amounted to nothing. She had no kingdom to rule over, and no strength with which to fight her enemies. By the Nether Realm! Would she even be able to lift Waldere?

She squinted at the window and considered leaving. Perhaps, if she found Waldere, she would be able to make use of its magic. She knew nothing of this world, or how to transverse its many roads. Another, bigger problem was finding and retrieving the sword. If these police were indeed seeking her out, it would be an act of sheer insanity to walk into their base of operations to take it back.

A knock sounded from the door. Kruhl pushed herself up and turned to peer at it. She did not speak up, or move to answer, but remained frozen in place. Doors were commonplace on her own world, and a knock, unsurprising, carried the same meaning. Still, she didn’t feel much like company. She turned away, but caught movement out of the corner of her eyes.

Teressa stood in the now open doorway holding a long black object with a rope dangling from its end.

"Oh, I’m—" she stopped taking in Kruhl and frowned. "Were you crying?"

"Leave me be." Kruhl growled under her breath, turning away from the intruder.

"Look I understand that things are looking rough, but—" She started toward Kruhl again, but stopped when the once-king turned his luminescent orbs on her.

"You know nothing about me." She said between gritted teeth. "Don’t think your empty platitudes will offer me any solace."

"Fair enough," Teressa released a sigh and turned away, stopping inside the doorway and again held up the strange contraption. "I just thought you’d like a haircut."

"Haircut?" Kruhl cocked her head, peering at Teressa with a frown.

"Maybe you haven’t noticed, but that mop of yours is a matted mess." Teressa but a hand on her hip and stared across the room at the other.

"My mop?" Kruhl reached up to run a hand through her locks and yelped when one of her fingers caught. "You mean my hair?"

Teressa nodded, folding her arms across her chest. "I mean, unless you like it that way?"

Kruhl pressed her teeth into her lower lip and shook her head. "I’ve been pre-occupied."

Kruhl had been so caught up in events she had taken little time to make note of her locks or worry about hygiene. Not that she’d had a lot of choice, she’d been tied down and locked in a room for most of her visit to this world and her captors hadn’t exactly taken the time to provide grooming implements.

She had been quite fastidious about grooming herself back on Erda and brushing her magnificent mane had been part of her daily routine. While hair atop her head was not foreign to her, the way her human locks dropped behind her shoulders and hung limp across her back was distracting.

Teressa sauntered toward her and reached out, twisting one of Kruhl’s stray locks between two fingers. She crinkled her nose and pulled away. "First though, you’ll need of a shower. You’re smelling pretty ripe."

"Shower?" Kruhl sneered. "Do I look like Rema swine to you?"

"Uh, oookay, what about a bath?" She frowned, eyes wide.

"That… would be acceptable," Kruhl replied with a grimace and shake of her head.

"Come on," Teressa motioned at the other and Kruhl followed, heart thumping in her chest. As the other woman led her out of the room, all Kruhl could think about was the interesting way in which her hips swayed as she walked.

"Let me know if it’s too hot." Teressa craned her neck around and peered up at the once-king.

Kruhl kneeled down at the edge of the tub and peered inside, watching tendrils of steam snake up into the air and disappear. "It’s hot, how is this possible?"

"There’s a thing called a water heater that collects water and keeps it warm for later use," Teressa replied.

The once-kings mind whirled, trying to imagine the mechanics that would make such a thing possible, but was unable to fathom it. On Erda, the only way to get a hot bath was to heat the water in a kettle or travel to a hot spring. Such a method was beyond anything she would have ever imagined.

Kruhl had seldom bothered with such a luxury, but Gylda, her betrothed, had insisted she take one every day. Kruhl scowled, remembering the long line of servants bringing pot after pot through Wurdanhom just to satiate the mercurial princess. Had he known she would betray him, he would have never indulged her, but it was less agonizing than contending with another of her tantrums.

"So, uh, you’re pretty petite, but the people who own this place have a daughter, I’ll see of I can find something for you to wear in her things. Why don’t you get started while I’m gone?" Teressa stopped jerking her head toward the tub, eyes seeming to linger on Kruhl’s chest. She coughed, licked her lips and turned her back to her companion. "I’ll check back in on you in a few minutes."

Kruhl watched her depart, then peered down at the pair of lumps on her chest and swallowed. She glanced up at the window on the other end of the room. Though the opening was small, she thought she could squeeze through it and be gone before she got back. Again, reason won out and she put such thoughts ouf of her mind.

She pulled her blouse over her head, grimacing when it caught on her breasts causing them to wobble as the fabric came away. She threw the shirt over her shoulder, not even watching it land before loosening the trousers about her waist and pulled them down to her feet.

Kruhl stopped standing over the bathtub and tested the water with a toe before at last easing herself into the hot water. She planted her posterior against the rear of the tub and leaned back, just letting the heat soak into her. Her breasts floated on the water and she averted her gaze, doing her best to ignore the strange sensation.

She could count on one paw the number of times she remembered taking a warm bath, all but one had been when she was still a cub. The once-king had forgotten just how relaxing it was. She closed her eyes, just letting her thoughts drift away.

Several long moments passed and Kruhl’s eyes snapped open, reaching out to retrieve the strange bottle of soap Teressa had called body wash. The container was smooth to the touch and she clutched it in her hands, brows furrowed. She pressed into it, discovering that it was pliable, and turned it over. What sort of material was this?

The front identified the contents of the bottle as Swan Calming Lavender Field Scented Nourishing Body Wash. Kruhl tilted her head, biting her lips. Did that mean the body wash was made from Swans and Lavender? Why would anyone make soap from a swan?

She locked her fingers around the lid and attempted to yank it open, but it would not come loose. What a strange container, she thought, again turning the bottle over in her hand, this time from top to bottom. The top of the lid was a darker shade of violet from the rest of the container. Kruhl frowned and pressed her finger into it, gratified to discover that the top flipped open.

"How strange," Kruhl muttered, squeezing the bottle’s middle, watching thick light-purple fluid ooze out of the new opening.

When she brought the bottle up to her nose, taking a big whiff. If it contained swan meat, she didn’t smell it. No, the only scent that she made out was lavender.

Why then did the bottle say swan? Perhaps the artisan who made it was named Swan.

She regarded the bottle for a little longer, then retrieved the wash towel left for her by Teressa, dunked it in the water and then wiped the soap off the side with the cloth.

Kruhl did not possess the same social biases as a person of this world. She did not regard flowery soaps and perfumes as girly, but she found them wasteful. The Angols, who considered themselves more civilized, were inclined to dabble in such frivolities, but her people made do with simpler soaps composed of animal fats and ashes.

With a long drawn-out sigh, she raised the cloth to her breasts and scrubbed the dirt away. She was not prepared for the sensations that arose from such a simple act and bit her bottom lip, barely stifling a moan and thoughts of Teressa doing interesting things sprang to mind. When the next wail escaped her lips, she did not muffle it.

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"All right so I got you—" The voice spoke out of nowhere and Kruhl started, jerking her hand out of her privates, and cheeks burning scarlet, as her eyes turned to meet Teressa’s gaze.

Teressa, a bundle of clothes in hand, mouth slack and eyes wide. "I, uh, I mean I didn’t mean to intrude, I just thought—"

"It’s fine!" Kruhl blurted out, hands snaking up her chest and cupped her breasts in a belayed attempt at modesty. "Just leave it I-I—"

Teressa dropped the clothes on the vanity and bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind her. Kruhl swallowed in a fruitless attempt to rid herself of the lump in her throat and glanced down at her soap covered breasts. She was so engrossed in pleasuring herself, she’d forgotten all about Teressa.

The interruption left her feeling like a pit had formed inside of her and she saw no way to fill it. Before her transformation, such an interruption would have killed the mood. She couldn’t say if it was because she was female or human, but either way it made her squirm.

There was a genuine need for her to continue, but she stopped herself. Instead, she recovered the cloth from between her legs where she dropped it during her explorations and resumed washing herself.

When finished, she hung the cloth along the edge of the tub and cupped both hands together against her lips. She shivered, allowing herself to imagine Teressa kissing her breasts.

She drew in her breath and dipped below the water to wet her hair, gasping for breath as she emerged. She wiped the excess water from her face and gathered all the loose strands of hair dangling in front of her eyes and collected them behind her ears.

With shaking hands, she reached for the bottle of shampoo, Teressa explained the differences between body wash and shampoo, but the once-king considered the distinction strange. Soap was soap.

Still, as she recalled the others instructions, she imagined the other woman’s naked body heaving against her own, her lips moving their way up and down her neck. She swallowed hard, the bulge wedged in her gullet still refusing to go away, and again studied the bottle.

Like the body wash, it was labeled ‘Swan’, and was Lavender scented, but this time it purported to be both a Shampoo and Conditioner, whatever that meant, and claimed to be formulated for normal to dry hair. Kruhl sighed, dumping some into her hand and rubbed it into her scalp.

She worked her way through her tangled locks. A vain attempt at clearing one of the hair mats, only succeeded in producing a sharp jolt of pain and a yelp. Clenching her jaw shut, Kruhl gave up, instead focusing on cleaning. When she finished, she pulled the stopper from the drain and climbed out, retrieving the towel from the counter.

She unfolded the fabric and paused, fingering it, surprised that it would be so soft and light. Teressa led her to believe that these so-called towels were used for drying oneself off, and after at last examining the long piece of fabric she understood why. Back home, she had access to the finest materials and used any number of fabrics to dry herself, but this towel did the job much better. Then again, she now possessed less hair than before.

She tossed the towel aside and reecovered the clothes from atop the vanity. She retrieved the shirt, a simple pink one-piece garment with an image of a strange character wearing a red dress with white dots and a tied-up bit of material upon its head. It bore rounded ears and had a short muzzle and exaggerated nose. Its features were rodent-like, but beyond that she could not guess what sort of creature it might be.

Even Kruhl, who’d never laid eyes on such attire, understood at once that it was intended for females. She crinkled her nose, before emitting a low growl, and pulled it up over her head and down over her breast. It fit snug in the chest, but not so tight as to constrict her breathing.

Next came the panties. Undergarments were not a new concept to her. Back at home she often wore a loincloth beneath her tunic or skirt, but the pink bit of fabric with heart-shapes on them were more feminine than her usual fair. Even the clothing they provided for her at the mental hospital had been less of an affront to her masculinity.

The skirt was the most tolerable part of the ensemble, at least in Kruhl’s eyes. Trousers were in their infancy among her people and used only by those who rode horseback. Loose-fitting skirts provided a flexibility of movement that slacks would never match, and as a battle-hardened warrior that was the most important factor of all.

Even so, she barely fit the skirt over her hips. It was designed for a child and Kruhl, while small, possessed the figure of a full-grown woman. Once she pulled it past her wide child-bearing hips, the garment fit her well enough, but as she looked upon her reflection, she saw nothing of herself looking back at her. It chilled her to the bone.

The mirror… she mused regarding the massive fixture which took up half of the wall. She’d never seen its like. Her people possessed mirrors, but their artisans crafted them of polished metals, and even the best only provided a muddy clarity.

She clenched her eyes shut and turned away with clenched teeth. Tears burned her eyes and she cursed the mirror’s creators before releasing a lengthy breath of air. She paused long enough to pull her water-logged hair from inside her shirt and slipped out of the bathroom where Teressa waited for her.

"I, uh, sorry, I didn’t think you would be well, you know…" Teressa kneaded one hand into the back of her neck, offering an apologetic smile and peered down at the former king.

"I would just as soon not discuss it." Kruhl frowned, folding her arms over her chest.

Teressa nodded, snaked a hand out and clasped her fingers around a lock of the other’s hair. "You want to get started?"

Kruhl grimaced, gaped at the other, and nodded. She doubted she would enjoy what followed, but understood that it was necessary. With a lengthy sigh, she followed the younger Van den Broeke down the corridor and toward what was certain to be a less than pleasant experience.

The razor buzzed along the side of Kruhl’s head and she closed her eyelids as the device ate her hair. It hummed against her scalp, vibrating so strongly it resonated in her eye sockets. She was not fond of the experience, but after seeing what the machine did, she understood its value at once.

Kruhl’s hair was such a mess, Teressa informed her, that she would have a much easier time if she cut it short. She’d given Kruhl the news as if she were a commander informing her she’d just lost an important battle. Kruhl didn’t see it as quite so devastating, but were it her glorious Assar mane being whittled away by the razor, she might have been singing a different tune.

Teressa knew her way around the razor, Kruhl could see that just by observing her, but the other seemed to think it necessary she explain that she once made a living as something called a hair dresser. Kruhl didn’t ask for specifics. She did not wish to get hair in her mouth again, but she pieced together that Teressa must have cut hair for a living. It seemed an odd vocation, but it didn’t surprise Kruhl. Little of this world made much sense.

As the other worked, Kruhl watched, lips pressed shut. She was going stir crazy, not just because she was stuck in place, but for other reasons.

Her nipples were hard and a glance down confirmed what she’d already suspected. They were showing through her shirt. She chomped down on her lower-lip, heart racing in her chest. She wanted, no needed, a release. Sex! The object of her desires was mere inches away, all she need do was lean forward and…

By Thun! Her face burned in shame. The once-mighty Kruhl, reduced to lusting after a human woman. Her father would have wept that she’d sunk so low, and the realization did her no good. She wanted nothing more than to leap from her seat and mount Teressa. Gods! When would it end?

And as if the gods had answered, the razor clicked off. Kruhl jerked her head, glancing over her shoulder. A tuft of hair fell over Kruhl’s left eye as she studied the hair stylist who stood, arms folded across her chest, razor in hand and her lips pressed in a thoughtful expression.

"I think that should do it." Teressa planted both hands on her hip, then turned her back to Kruhl. The once-king swallowed, reaching a hand up to collect the stray hair and tuck it back into place.

"I thought we agreed you would cut my hair short." Kruhl glowered, letting out a slight growl.

"I did," Teressa replied, turning to Kruhl with a square-shaped object, perhaps two dorn long on each side, clutched in her hands. "Have a look."

She held it out to Kruhl, and she hesitated only a few seconds before snatching it out of her outstretched hand, only realizing it was a hand mirror after she took it from the other woman.

Kruhl placed the mirror in her lap, handle out, and stared down to take a better look. The girl, whose face she despised, peered up at her. Teressa had shaved most of the left side down almost to nubs, and Kruhl traced her hand over it, the wound from her battle with Reesha and her minions was now visible, the black stitching sticking out from it. The cut had scabbed over, but it would be some time before it finished healing. She thought it a tribute to Teressa’s skill that Kruhl experienced almost no pain when the razor passed over it.

The rest of her hair wasn’t so short. Those locks were perhaps a dorn and a half, or about eight inches long. Teressa combed her bangs to the right, and Kruhl frowned, turning her head to get a better view. She expected something closer to the close-shorn cuts sported by the Angols, but this somehow looked more feminine. Still, she didn’t dislike it. Before she looked like a timid creature, the haircut made her countenance seem more… fierce.

"Well?" Teressa asked, leaning forward, her breasts pressing into Kruhl’s back.

This only reignited Kruhl’s arousal, and instead of answering, she at last launched herself toward the other, her lips locking around her mouth.

At first, Teressa resisted and pulled away, but then Kruhl pressed harder and the other woman melted into the former king’s arms, returning the kiss.

The next thing Kruhl knew, she was spread eagle atop the bed, Teressa’s lithe body mounted atop hers. Kruhl didn’t recall whether it had been she who had pulled the other atop her, or if Teressa had pushed her onto the soft fabric bedspread, but she didn’t care.

She closed her eyes, allowing the younger Van den Broeke sister to pull the fabric of the once-king’s shirt up and kiss her nipples. Kruhl shivered, hands reaching up to kneed the other’s breasts. She didn’t remember removing her skirt or panties, but soon a hard throbbing shaft thrust into her cunt. She trembled, knowing it at once for what it was. She didn’t understand why Teressa had one, but the once-king didn’t care. It felt too good. She shrieked in pleasure, not caring who heard. At last, she’d found her release.

The computer flicked and the screen fizzed out, smoke rising out of the base, and Amelia leaned back, running both hands through her hair. She wasn’t the paranoid type, but this was her third attempt at getting in touch with AEGIS since coming to the house, and each time something had gone wrong.

When she tried to make a call using the house’s landline, the phone went dead after the first ring and repeated efforts to make additional calls had turned out the same. The first time she attempted to access the AEGIS secure servers, the computer had shut down without warning and now this…

Someone was trying very hard to keep her from getting in contact with her superiors. Which could only mean one thing…

She jerked to her feet and took off running for the bedrooms. If she was right, she needed to warn the others before it was too late…

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Kruhl lay on her side, bedsheets draped over her bare form, hand clasped over her privates. After they finished their lovemaking, a sense of contentment flooded over her and she lay awash in the sensation.

Back home, she’d taken the virginity of many females, but experiencing it from the other end was something different altogether. Sex as a male was more of a throbbing, pulsating pleasure centered in one place. As a woman those elements were there, but a simple touch in the right place would send ripples of tingling ecstasy rippling through her body. She never imagined it would be so… all encompassing.

Her lady parts were aflame, throbbing with a dull ache, but also an emptiness. She was incomplete after the experience, as if she would never be whole until she again allowed Teressa to penetrate her. She trembled, an icy shiver racking her body.

Her hand slipped free of her privates and she held it in front of her eye, rubbing the blood between the flats of her fingers. Though their lovemaking had painful, it was not at all unpleasant. Teressa had deflowered her, or, as the other girl put it, she’d popped her cherry. It was a euphanism, she’d understood without explanation.

Kruhl found herself thinking of the other woman’s unique anatomy. She’d long heard tales of individuals who were both male and female, possessing the form of a woman, but the private parts of a man. At the time, such stories seemed far-fetched and the once-king discounted them. Now, it seemed, her thinking might need some revision. She possessed no understanding of hormones and had never heard the term transgender. Other than the whisperings of fellow Assar, Kruhl possessed no frame of reference for such an anomaly.

She rolled over, regarding Teressa between cracked eyelids. The other woman bore a sleepy smile and her eyes had drooped closed. Kruhl leaned forward, pecking her on the lips and a broad smile stretched across her mouth as she studied Teressa.

She was slender and tall and bore small pert breasts and shoulders that seemed just a little too wide for her frame, but that wasn’t so unusual even for human females. Kruhl detected no outward signs that Teressa possessed so unusual of a form.

"What?" Teressa asked with a loud yawn, a smile of her own cracking her lips.

Kruhl eyed her a moment longer before speaking. "How?"

Though the question was simple, it carried a depth of meaning that the younger Van Den Broeke understood at once. Teressa cupped her face and closed her eyelids.

"I’m transgender," she said, hands sliding away. Kruhl blinked, but did not respond and Teressa released a lengthy breath, pressing her lips together.

"I used to be a boy, but I always felt like I should have been a girl. About three years ago, I stopped living in denial and admitted the truth to myself. A while after that, I began my transition. Er… that is to say, I started living as a girl full time and began taking a medicine of a sort that helped me develop a more feminine figure."

Teressa’s explanation was simplistic, and didn’t convey as much meaning as she would have preferred, but it was a subject the former Assar knew nothing about. Terms like ‘assigned male’ were likely a little beyond the other’s grasp. It seemed easier, for the time being, to keep it simple.

Kruhl nodded, her mind reeling at the implications of what the other said. If such a medicine existed to make men more feminine, might there not be one to produce the opposite effect for women? Before she had a chance to inquire further, the door burst open and the other Van den Broeke hurtled into the room, a wild, wide-eyed expression marking her features.

Amelia’s eyes took in the lovers, and she quickly averted her gaze.

"We, uh, need to get out of here. I think we may be in danger." She licked her lips, a slight, almost undetectable tremor in her voice revealing her discomfort.

"What, why?" Teressa asked, sitting bolt upright, careful to keep the blanket pressed over her naked breasts.

"This may sound a bit paranoid, but I haven’t been able to contact AEGIS since we came here. At first I thought there was something wrong with the phone line, but a laptop just burnt up on me. I can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is trying to prevent me from getting help."

No one spoke for several long minutes, and then almost as if on cue, the sound of car tires screeching and a long succession of car doors slamming shut broke the silence.

Any pretense of modesty flew out the window as Teressa flung the bedding off her unclothed form and collected her stray bits of discarded clothing scattered about.

Kruhl looked around, eyes gleaming with confusion. She did not understand what the sounds signified, but she was no fool and picked up on the sense of urgency from the other women. She sprang from the bed on all-fours and scurried around in search of her own clothing.

Under ordinary circumstances, Amelia would have retreated from the scene, but when faced with danger, things like modesty were a luxury with which she could not afford to adhere.

Amelia reached for her gun, but remembered that she’d used up all her ammunition and dropped her hand. She moved along the outside of the room, avoiding making eye contact with either woman, and pulled the corner of the drapes open, careful to do so with slow, smooth movements so those without would be less likely to catch sight of her.

Police cars ringed the house, and dozens of officers knelt behind their vehicles, weapons in hand.

She sucked air in through her teeth, cursed under her breath, and slipped the drapes closed before returning her attention to the other two women who were in various states of dress.

As an investigator, she did not believe in coincidence. It seemed unlikely that the police’s arrival was unrelated to her latest attempt at contacting AEGIS. If their enemy disconnected the phones and destroyed the laptop, why wait to attack? They could have struck at any time.

She was unable to shake the feeling of wrongness encompassing this entire situation and try as she might, there didn’t seem to be a reasonable explanation for any of it. Something more was happening than met the eye and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. What was she missing?

She balled both fists. The agent would not stand by and let their enemies control the situation. Something needed to be done. She turned to face her younger sibling, mind already made up. "Once you finished getting dressed, get to the car, I’ll keep them occupied.

She slipped out through the door before either woman could issue an objection. Teressa and Kruhl met each other’s gazes, then rushed to the doorway at the same moment, but the elder Van den Broeke had already disappeared down the hallway. The creak of the front door sounded in the distance, dispelling whatever thoughts they had of chasing after Amelia.

Teressa turned her wide-eyes on Kruhl and gulped. They were running out of time.

Amy stood, hands clenched at her side, staring down at the sea of squad cars, police officers, and the automatic weapons which they bore. Though a shiver of fear worked its way down her spine, anger soon supplanted it. She grated her teeth and fought back the fire burning deep inside of her.

Carter Rathdrum, a father, a husband, and, above all, a good man had died by their hands. Worse, even if Amelia survived this mess, it was unlikely she would be able to tell his family how he’d died. She would not let his selfless act be for nothing.

These were police officers, men and womaen who had taken oaths to uphold the law and defend the innocent. They had already gunned down the mental hospital and the roadside along their escape path. She doubted they’d have any reservations about shooting up the neighborhood.

How many more people had they harmed with their blatant disregard of the laws they’d sworn to uphold?

The revelation that they may be under the influence of Odalrik, did little to temper her rage. How could they have let it get so bad? None drew Amy’s more ire than their leader. The Avery she had known was a person of integrity with a rigid, unbending sense of duty and responsibility. What had changed? How had Odalrik compromised her?

Gunfire rang out. Amelia threw her arm up to shield her face, but it was just a reflex. She was ready for what followed. Bullets whizzed through the air, and stopped motionless, suspended as if on wires. Amy gritted her teeth, waving her arm, sending the projectiles slamming into the ground with a series of soft thuds.

"Gwyneth Avery!" She called out the Chief’s name at the top of her lungs, but if the other woman was present, she did not show herself.

Instead, a tall figure in a flowing black robe stepped forward to meet her challenge. Its cowl concealed its face, but Amelia just made out the tip of a thin delicate chin. It walked hunched over in a lurching gait, pulling a long wooden staff, its tip grating across the pavement. Atop it was affixed an emerald gem that pulsated with fetid green light.

The figure stood upright, planting its staff into the soil and turned its shrouded head upon Amy. She strained her eyes, hoping to glimpse the face that lurked beneath the cloth, but she could see nothing of its features save for a glint of noxious illumination glimmering in its eyes. The stranger tilted the staff forward, and a beam of putrid green light shot out, straight toward the agent. She had only seconds to prepare herself before the attack landing home.

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Shit, shit, shit," Teressa cursed her face contorted in a mask of rage. "How could I have been so stupid?"

She growled under her breath, slid the car keys into the ignition and the car’s engine roared to life. Anger flashed in her eyes as they fell on Kruhl. The once-king shrank away, taken aback, but then she gazed forward, clasping one hand around her neck, the second on the steering wheel.

"Hang on," she said between gritted teeth, inky mist rising out between her fingers. "This will be one bumpy ride."

She pulled on the lever between the seats and the car careened, a high-pitched screech emanating from the wheels. It slammed through the garage door with a wail of protest and wood and metal exploded, fragments slamming into the windshield with several dull thwacks and Kruhl threw her arms up to shield her face.

The vehicle lurched into daylight, swerved sideways, and just avoided slamming into a vehicle Teressa told her, after their first meeting, was called a police car. She clutched at the handle on the door, gaze fixed on Teressa.

"Oh hell," Teressa cursed again her eyes staring out the windshield growing wider by the second. She raised both hands, palms out and fingers up, misty ink fading into the daylight. Kruhl followed the other’s gaze. A tall man bearing one of the fire-sticks was standing before the car, weapon trained on the other woman.

Kruhl was not the type to surrender, if she could help it, but even a proud warrior such as her recognized a helpless situation when she saw one. She scowled, then mimed the other woman’s pose. She narrowed her eyes, watching as the man approached picturing herself snapping his neck, but remained motionless. The police clan had won for now.

Putrid emerald energy crackled against the azure dome that Amy had summoned. The agent gritted her teeth, panting against the effort of holding her shield. She’d had no opportunity to practice using her new powers, but they seemed to respond when she needed them, even if she didn’t quite understand how. It was a marked contrast to Sapphira’s struggle to control the same powerset, but one which she could live with… if she stayed conscious.

Amelia’s shield rippled and the sickly green illumination brightened, spreading out and sizzling with such intensity, Amy’s eyes ached. She averted her gaze, tears cascading down her cheek, and held on. Perhaps Sapphira who was more experienced might know how to retaliate with the shield still up, but it was taking all of her concentration just to hold it against the mysterious attacker.

Her strength ebbed and she fell to her knees, her shield wobbling and contorting. She moaned, clenching her eyes shut and focus all her will on holding the barrier. She only needed a little more time…

As if on queue, an explosive crash of shattering wood and shrieking metal sounded from nearby. That would be Teressa and Kruhl, she thought, a smile touching the corner of her lips.

The pressure on her shield vanished and instead of taking the time to gawk like her assailant and most of the police force, the agent straightened. She rounded on her attacker and sent her shield flying out. It burst into the cloaked figure with enough force to send it tumbling to the pavement and rounded on the nearest of their attackers. She threw a hand out a wave of telekinetic force, rippling out, and three officers soared away, landing in a tangled heap.

She took the briefest of seconds, soaking in every detail she could. Kruhl and Teressa had crashed through the house’s garage door in the Yomato Diadem the former had stolen during their escape from the mental hospital, but the vehicle had only just cleared the exit. A ring of police cars blocked their path out.

All eyes turned toward her and she grated her teeth, already erecting a wall of shimmering azure energy as a new barrage of bullets came hurtling across the lawn toward her.

Time was not on her side. Already her body had begun to weaken and her vision began to fade. She fought it, teeth gritted.

Not now.

She redirected her efforts, diving behind a flowerbed with a raised stone wall and dropped the shield. She may not be able to save herself, but she’d be damned if she was going to let them get ahold of Kruhl and Teressa. Instead of attacking, she reached out and pushed the first squad car blocking the Diadem’s path. The vehicle lurched back, bursting through a small white picket fence that separated the driveway from the neighbor’s property.

Her vision dimmed and she clenched her jaw, fighting back the darkness, gunfire spattering into the stones all around her. She hurtled the second squad car away, moving on to the third and final one. It lurched into the street and Amy found herself on her knees.

The agent gasped, willing a shield to form around her, but it quivered and dissolved into the air with a soft sizzle. She felt a sharp prick on her neck, and snapped a hand up, finger clasping a short metallic tube with a fuzzy tip. She pulled it free, holding the tranquilizer dart in front of her face before peering back at her assailant. Chief Avery stood in the distance, tranquilizer gun clasped in her hands, scowling.

The agent fell the rest of the way to the ground, face-planting into the soil, fingers clawing at the ground in a futile escape attempt. She peered up, eyes focused on a cloud of inky haze that had oozed its way over the yard, the last thing she heard as her awareness faded into unconsciousness was the sound of screeching tires.

The girl stood back, pulling several strands of blonde hair away from her soft delicate features, her eyes wide as a pair of officers lifted the inert form of a tall dark-haired woman into the back of a squad car. She turned away, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.

"Amy," she whispered the name, as a cold quiver shot down her back.

The agent was bound… and odder gagged. How and why had Amelia run afoul of the police? She was working with them. They were the ones who’d requested help from AEGIS. The mission files were very clear on that point. Why then had they detained her? It made no sense.

It all had something to do with the woman in black, the girl glanced at her, another shiver running down her spine. When the girl first laid eyes on her, she’d done a double take. The woman looked like she’d walked out of the set of some sword and sorcery movie. She wore a long cloak and its cowl was pulled back to reveal a youthful face framed by a shock of lengthy black hair. An emerald-topped staff was clenched in her arms, and, if the energy readings from the RPR module were any sign, she was packing a lot of astral energy. The girl didn’t quite understand what that meant, but she knew enough to be wary.

Though the cloaked woman seemed out of place amidst all the officers, she moved through the throng with an air of authority. She stopped a few yards from the car where they’d imprisoned Amelia and planted her staff in the ground. An older middle-aged woman in a police uniform rushed up to her and curtsied, like some peasant maiden supplicating themselves to their liege lord.

The girl frowned. Things were getting stranger by the moment.

She considered making a rescue attempt, but shut down such a fleeting ludicrous notion with a firm set of her jaw and a violent shake of her head. Even with the full RPR, she didn’t like her chances. Whatever power the robed woman had at her command, she was not one with whom the girl wanted to cross on her own. Making her first test run with the new gear, while tempting, would be stupid beyond belief.

Amelia was being help captive, but at least she was still alive. With the agent in police custody, finding her would be an easy enough effort. It would be a better course of action to bide her time, gather information, perhaps find a few allies and form a plan.

She stroked her chin, studying the home around which the police cars were clustered. She regarded the fragments of the garage door and pursed her lips. The hole was more or less car-sized. Given that, and the tire marks on the lawn, she guessed someone had left in quite the hurry. A potential ally, perhaps? If so, why had they left Amelia behind?

Bullet holes peppered portions of a white picket fence dividing the home from the neighboring house and portions of the exterior wall of the first. She didn’t know much about firearms, but the RPR had identified the weapons carried by the police as AR-90 Automatic Rifles. Military hardware of the sort far too sophisticated for any street cop, least of all for a backwater town like Tondzaosha. It was… concerning.

She dropped her hand and considered her options. Whoever had fled the scene probably had the answers she needed, but she didn’t have the foggiest idea how to track them down. She needed help, and with the information Director Malcolm had provided, she thought she might know where to find it.

With slow, careful movements, Ashley Harris turned away from the crime scene, and slipped the RPR module from her pocket, calling up the information she needed. With quick, yet furtive steps she moved away, heart hammering in her chest. God, this would be a pain in the ass, but it was the least she could do for Amy.

Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Kruhl took in air, with short jagged breaths, and eyes clenched shut. Her entire body trembled, awash with a flood of emotions, mixed revulsion and frustration most predominant among them.

She’d become weak. She curled her lips in a sneer and opened her eyelids. One hand enveloping a breast and kneading the flesh. She moaned and bit her lower lip, glancing over her shoulder to ensure Teressa did not wake. It had been the better part of a day since they’d fled their enemies and the pair had barely spoken to one another since.

The once-king wanted nothing more than to battle their enemies, but she possessed neither the means nor the strength necessary. This body was soft.

She peered down at her free hand, flexing it before her face. Kruhl had allowed herself to succumb to the desires of her body, to allow a human to dominate her in bed… yet again.

She rose to her feet, turning her back on the other woman, arms folded across her naked chest. Curse Reesha for sending her to this world!

She clenched her teeth and balled her fists at her side. She had been among the greatest of her people’s warriors and she’d been reduced to this simpering doe-eyed slip of a human girl. If she weren’t so useless she would have taken on the police clan and saved Agent Amelia. She would have made those fools rue the day they’d ever crossed Kruhl!

Instead, she’d fled like a coward, and now she was frittering her time away instead of taking action. Her gaze again darted to Teressa, who had spent the time since their escape brooding, a slow simmering anger bubbling just under the surface. She’d spoken little more than two words to the former king, instead she spent her time whittling away at a hunk of wood with a strange folding knife she’d retrieved from one of the unusual pouches built into her trousers.

Kruhl looked about the little rolling home, which Teressa called a camp trailer, and crinkled her nose. It was dirty and smelled of rotted wood. They’d come to this place after their escape and had been there ever since. She tucked her arms over her breasts, peering through the little window beside the door.

Though she was far from an expert on this world, she recognized farm country when she saw it, even if it was a fair bit dustier than Eirdon’s fields. Beyond that, there was little else to see, branches, from the large copse of trees which surrounded the camper, obscured much of her view, but a large aging red building with wide double doors and white trim could just be made out through the tangle of evergreens.

Her mind wandered a million miles away, grasping for some solution to the mess she’d dug for herself. Were it not for her, Reesha would have never stood a chance of banishing Odalrik to this place. True, it had been the Sorceress who’d invoked the spell, but her old master was far too powerful and wily to be taken alone. Without Kruhl’s aid, she never could’ve gained the upper hand.

Teressa emitted a soft moan and Kruhl craned her neck back to gaze on the woman.The younger Van den Broeke sister jerked to a sitting position, small pert breast jiggling a little from the sudden movement. Her eyes were just as intense as the previous night, and, as she watched, the other’s countenance creased into a frown.

She thought back to their previous night of lovemaking, the intensity, the pure wild rage the other exhibited produced a stab of remembered pain in her loins. Kruhl hadn’t experienced the like since before Leoffa’s passing. His betrothed possessed a turbulent personality and sometimes her volatility translated into the bed chamber. It made for some of the most passionate lovemaking of the former Assar’s life. Though the sensations of her tiny new body differed, the intensity had been on the same scale.

Kruhl padded over to the bed, positioned herself beside the other woman, kissing her on the cheek before pulling away. Teressa regarded her, jaw clenched, rage burning with such intensity Kruhl thought perhaps she’d angered her, but then her lover’s features softened and she pulled the once-king close, wrapping both arms about her waist. Lips brushing her neck.

It unnerved Kruhl, that the other could so easily overpower her, but a part of her liked it. She would never have admitted it aloud, but when they were abed, she found that if she allowed the other to take control that the pleasures could be indescribable. She trembled, preparing herself for another round of sex, but when the other’s hands reached between her legs Kruhl, surprised even herself, and fastened her fingers around the other’s wrists.

"We should talk," Kruhl said. "I realize this thing with your sister has–"

Teressa pushed Kruhl with such force that she lurched across the bed and almost took a nosedive over the edge before grasping ahold of the adjacent counter. She peered at the other, eyes wide, panting for breath.

"I’m sorry." Teressa said, voice tense, almost confrontational. She shook her head and her features and voice softening. "I didn’t mean to—"

Kruhl righted herself and swallowed, glancing at her companion. She’d known that the strength disparity between them was significant, but hadn’t realized the full extent until that moment. How weak must she be in this form that the other could throw her about with so little effort?

"Forget about it," Kruhl said, her voice trembling though she fought hard to keep it even. When she again glanced at her lover, tears were sliding down the other’s cheeks.

Kruhl pulled her close, wrapping her arms about Teressa’s larger frame. "I know this is difficult, but I understand how you feel."

"Do you?" Teressa replied, her body stiffening in Kruhl’s arms. She pushed the other away, this time with only enough force for her to keep the other at bay. "I don’t even know if Amy’s alive. She’s my sister… and I just drove off and let them take her, God, what kind of person does that?" She gawked at Kruhl, eyes wide, voice devoid of any emotion, as if she were still trying to process what happened.

Kruhl peered back, her expression a near match to Teressa’s. When at last she spoke, she did so in a halting quivering tone. "Do not blame yourself. Respect her sacrifice. Agent Amelia knew what she was doing. She would want us to carry on."

"Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who abandoned her own sister."

"No," Kruhl agreed. "But I impaled the love of my life in the abandoned her to die."

Teressa looked as if Kruhl had slapped her. She stared at the tiny woman, then emitted a lengthy breath of air. She folded her arms across her chest, fire smoldering in her eyes, turning away from Kruhl eyes studying the wall just to her left. "We don’t stand a chance without Amy. My illusions will not get us very far. My sister was the only one of us with any actual power. Without her we might as well crawl into a hole and die."

Kruhl did not speak, instead she looked out at the aging barn, a thoughtful expression on her face. Several long moments later, she met the other woman’s gaze, golden globes gleaming. "There may be a chance, but we need Waldere."

"You talk about that sword as if it will solve all our problems. Just what can that thing do?"

Teressa swallowed and met the once-king’s gaze. There was an odd gleam in Kruhl’s eyes as she spoke.

Ashley stopped, staring down at the RPR module, before glancing back up to studying her surroundings. The guidance system had led her to an older area of town, populated by houses identified by the suit’s AI system as Cape Cod style cottages. Basically they were cute, neatly decorated, World War II era homes, all painted in pastel colors and off-whites.

To her though, they were just houses, albeit small old ones, and the only interest she had was in one home in particular or, more specifically, its occupant. She might now identify as the girl whose body she’d come to possess, but her mindset was still of a masculine sort. The minor details only mattered if they contributed to the greater whole. Pretty flowers and pastel colors weren’t relevant information and thus she only regarded them as a row of houses.

She stopped in front of a home, peering down at the module, eying the small red rectangular device to ensure she was in the right place. Satisfied, she nodded and slipped it back into her jeans pocket. The girl took a moment to study the building, frowning as she regarded the mailbox, which was so overstuffed, the front hung ajar. That was not encouraging.

Ashley had traveled all the way to Grove City, hoping to find the owner of this home, and now it seemed like he’d been away for days if not weeks. She cursed between clenched teeth and jerked the RPR module back out of her pocket. She’d wasted valuable time on this lead and it had been for nothing. Maybe it wa—

The young woman stopped. An alert had popped up on the RPR’s display, noting that there was a lot of ambient astral energy. She peered up at the house again, lips pressed together in a thin line, studying the readings. The signature was close enough to the one emanating from staff girl she doubted it was unrelated. Perhaps her trip hadn’t been a dead end after all.

She switched to thermal view and held the unit up. The southwest corner of the home, viewed through the display, was lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Goddammit," she cursed.

Ashley did not understand what it meant, but she didn’t believe it could mean anything good. She jabbed the screen, toggling the thermal view off and paused only a moment, before activating the ASM Algorithm. She’d had enough with this incognito bullshit. A fresh approach was needed.

As she waited, Ashley frowned and peered out across the horizon. A black speck appeared, growing larger by the moment. A grin spread across her soft features. It was time to bust some heads.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Amelia, you need to wake up," a voice spoke out of the nothingness, reverberating through her skull with such force she gasped and her eyes snapped open.

A bright light shone in her face and she reached an arm up to shield her eyes. She angled her head, sharp stabs of pain pulsating in her temples.

"Amelia," the voice repeated her name, and she shifted her head, gritting her teeth against the accompanying agony.

Though her eyes were still adjusting, she could see just well enough to make out a familiar set of features. Amy sucked in her breath and studied the teal-framed face of Ashtar.

Amelia groaned and clenched her eyelids shut. "Ugh, I must have taken a hit to the head."

Ignoring the strange shade, the agent instead shook her head, and blinked, her vision at last snapping into focus. She drew in another deep breath and cursed. She was in what looked like a garden variety police holding cell, save for one detail that produced a shiver down her spine.

A familiar green paint coated the walls, ceiling, floor and even the bars on the cell. The shade was used exclusively by AEGIS. The substance which produced the color had a long, uninteresting chemical name, which she could neither pronounce nor remember, but most of the agency’s personnel just called it GUNQ.

Though it sounded rather harmless, it would block most any form of psychic powers and a fair number of other exemplar abilities. She was able to use her abilities anywhere within the cell, and the room itself, but anything coated with the GUNQ or beyond its boundaries was out of reach. Under any other circumstance escape would have been a cinch, but now it was not at all likely.

She swallowed, bile rising in her throat as she considered the implications of this fresh development. The only way Odalrik might have gotten hold of the GUNQ, was if he’d managed to compromise AEGIS. Its production was strictly regulated and controlled. The substance was manufactured by two separate companies and then combined by AEGIS employees. No one, save for a representative of the agency, would be able to obtain even a small quantity.

A puzzle piece fit into place. Someone enslaved to Odalrik must have been the one to redact her mother’s name in the case files, but why? If it was his intent to bring her here, he must have some reason for it. Was it to enthrall her to him as he’d done to the Tondzaosha Police? No, it made no sense. Her new powers hadn’t even surfaced yet. What need would he have of her?

Perhaps, she shuddered, he sought to make use of her retrocognizance.

"Amy!" Ashtar snapped.

The agent spun her neck back around to face her. She studied the once-goddess in all her glory. Ashtar was stunningly, jaw-droppingly beautiful, in an out-of-this-world unearthly sort of way. Though her form was human, there was a strange, almost imperceptible quality about her that spoke of her genuine nature. She was an alien entity of a sort, Amelia hadn’t quite been able to classify, but there was no doubt she was powerful and it was she who had granted Sapphira and, indirectly, Amelia, their powers. There was just one problem, she’d died months ago combating Chemosh and Garos.

"I am not a hallucination. I am an imprint, a shadow of the person who once was. When the true Ashtar died, she imprinted a piece of herself upon Sapphira and, in turn, when you joined with her and a new seed of power bloomed within you, a duplicate of that imprint passed into your subconsciousness."

"Listen very carefully, there isn’t much time," The strange alien specter said a tension in her words, that spoke of urgency.

Amy complied, and felt a tremor work down her spinal column, as the other issued her warning.

When Ashtar finished, a loud clank and a groan of metal on metal sounded from the doorway. Before Amy could even so much as blink, Chief Avery stepped into the room, raised her dart gun and opened fire.

A sharp jab of pain shot up her neck and Amy clasped a hand over the dart. With her other hand she threw out a wave of telekinetic force at the Chief and sent her hurtling back through the door.

Amelia struggled to her feet, but fell back onto her knees just a second later. She clenched her jaw, attempting to fight the effects of the tranquilizer, but soon she fell face-first onto the cold concrete floor. She looked up just in time to see Avery approach before everything again faded to black.

The person once known as Odalrik regarded Agent Van den Broeke’s inert form, a slow smile creeping over her youthful face. She’d come so far and waited so long, but at last that which she desired would soon be within her grasp.

She glanced down at her slight, feminine body, and let out a low throaty chuckle. This was the third form she’d taken since coming to this world. She’d discarded the first, a frail old wisp of a woman, after again learning to tap into the essence of life. The second, that of an unassuming man, had perished in that incident at the old police station, and this one she now possessed… well in the beginning it was that or death.

The girl was but a child, a few weeks shy of seven years old, when she’d first come to possess her. At first she had loathed it, and thought to steal a new form, but few had seen anything but a little girl when they looked upon her and the sorceress realized that it was advantageous to remain within. When puberty hit, she again thought to abandon the body, but more than anything her innate stubbornness won out and she adapted.

Now, just a year removed from her teen years, she could scarcely imagine life as anything but a woman. If nothing else, the sex was amazing. She shivered at the thought and put it quickly out of mind. Such things were better reserved for her bedchamber.

All this time operating in the shadows and it would all soon be over. She would at last find the crystal so long concealed and gain utter control of this backwater little town.

She had long disdained using the artifact, fearing the risk of invoking its power, but this was not Erda and she did not possess the resources she once had. With it in hand, a much greater conquest would be but a small step. Even Leoffa with all her illusions would be hard-pressed to stop her.

Kruhl’s appearance, while unexpected, was fortuitous. It forced her to accelerate her plans, yes, but she relished in the opportunity it afforded her. Without it, she might never have lured Amelia back to her hometown and without the exemplar woman’s retrocognizance, the sorceress doubted she’d ever locate where Leoffa hid the crystal. Well, short of imprisoning and torturing her for information, but the woman had been as elusive as she was devious.

Her eyes alight with her magic, the sorceress, now known as Daisy Fischer planted her staff into the carpeted floor, green energies swirling within its jeweled top. She placed a hand upon the agent’s forehead, unleashing her magics upon her subconscious mind.

She had wanted the agent for her retrocognizance, but now she had become so much more valuable. When at last her resistance crumbled, the sorceress would bend Amelia to her will, and she would have a weapon at her command, possessing power perhaps even greater than her own.

Soon, she would have her revenge, and her enemies would tremble before her might.

"You’re mad!" Kruhl yelled, clutching her hands around what Teressa had referred to as the "Oh shit handle" above the doorway.

The younger Van den Broeke grinned and winked at the once-king, a manic grin stretching across her face. "You’re the one that wanted the sword, aren’t you?" When the light turned green, she stomped her foot down on the accelerator without waiting to hear the other woman’s objections.

The vehicle lurched forward, speeding down the roadway. It careened off the side of the road, across the walk and through the parking area, before slamming through the glass facade of the Tondzaosha Police Station. Glass shattered all around them, pelting the car hood and windshield.

Kruhl threw her arms up to protect her face, as a particularly large shard hit the glass, but the windshield held and she lowered her arms only to throw them back up as the car slammed into the reception desk and the wall behind it.

The vehicle screeched to a halt as a cloud of white dust and debris exploded before them. As it settled, a pair of officers made a beeline for the car, but Teressa’s eyes narrowed and settled on a steel door along the east wall.

The Diadem jerked forward, tires screeching, and slammed into the doorway with another eruption of dust and a shriek of metal.

Kruhl felt something wet drip down her brow. When she reached out to touch it, she winced against a sharp stab of pain. A small sharp fragment of glass was wedged above her right eyebrow. She brought her hands away, rubbing the blood between her index finger and thumb. She glanced to her left, the window had shattered. When had that happened?

"Kruhl, come on!" Teressa screamed, snatching at Kruhl’s arms with her right hand and clasping hold of her throat with the left.

The once-king slid over the seat, tailing Teressa out the door as that familiar black mist oozed out between the exemplar’s fingers. Weapons fire rang out, but the illusory fog had already risen between them and the police clan could only fire blindly into the haze.

Kruhl’s heart pounded in her chest as they flew threw the debris ridden room. Towards the back they found the sword within its metal cage scattered amidst a wooden bludgeoning weapon and a slew of fire sticks. When Teressa tried to open the enclosure, it wouldn’t budge.

"Shit," she cursed, rapping her knuckles on the metal. "It’s locked, what the hell are we supposed to do, now?"

At once, both women glanced back at the car and a twinkle showed in each of their eyes. "I have an idea!" They both said in perfect unison.

Official Report
321 S Oak St.
Grove City, Idaho

Entry into the home was not much of a problem for Ashley now that she’d adorned herself in the full RPR assembly. She doubted anything she did while wearing the blood-red armor could be considered inconspicuous, but she entered out of sight, just in case.

Until she’d summoned the remainder of the RPR, she’d instructed it to keep a close distance, and most especially to remain outside of town and away from people or roadways. Nabu, the AI that governed the suit was more than happy to comply. The Artificial Intelligence almost seemed sapient, but Malcolm insisted that it was a product of some very sophisticated computer algorithms. Ashley had her doubts, but so long as the suit performed as it should and obeyed her commands, she was willing to look the other way.

She stood just outside the home’s back door, gauntleted hand poised over the knob.

"Miss Harris," Nabu said, a light, almost undetectable inflection in his voice that hinted at an Iraqi accent. "You may wish to enter through the window."

"Why is that?" Ashley asked.

"The door’s core is composed of reenforced steel. While the servos in the suit are capable of removing it from its frame, it would be rather loud. It might attract undue attention."

"What about the energy blades, wouldn’t one of them be able to cut through it?" She asked, hand still inches from the doorknob.
"In theory, yes, but the director never tested them in the field and certainly not on—"

"Yeah, well, now’s as good a time as any." Ashley rolled her eyes and cut Nabu short. The AI was a bit long-winded, and far too cautious for her tastes.

"Need I remind you, miss, that you could overload the—"

"Better to do it here than in the middle of a fight." She responded, again stopping the artificial intelligence before he finished.

"Once again, there is no faulting your reasoning, miss," Nabu replied. Ashley shook her head and bit back a sharp response. His tone had sounded almost… sarcastic.

Ashley dropped her right arm and pumped her fist three-times. A long, curved section of black metal slid out from the wrist, and burst alight, a thrumming, cackling blade sizzling to life along its length. She wasted no time, raising her arm and slicing down. The blade sheering through it from top to bottom as easily as if it were paper, but burned so bright even the filters on her helmet weren’t enough to keep her eyes from watering.

She pushed the half of the door still affixed to the hinges open and shouldered through, her armor just a little too large to fit through otherwise. She kept the blade extended, fearful that she might come under attack, but as she emerged on the other side, she encountered no obstacles and the only sound was the clank of her own armored feet. Still, she kept her weapon ready.

Her eyes scanned her immediate area. She’d stepped into a quaint little joint kitchen and dining room area. The cupboards were solid flat-white and the countertop was ceramic tile. It looked old, with a few nicks or scratches here or there, but overall appeared well maintained.

The oven and range looked relatively modern and the microwave most certainly was, but otherwise it seemed consistent with the era in which the home had been built. She stepped through the room, ceramic tiles cracking under the weight of the suit, and moved past the dining table, a simple blocky affair that showed signs of frequent use. Though blocky and not real pretty, to her eye it appeared handcrafted.

She walked into a carpeted hallway, peering left into the front room, eyes studying the loveseat, sofa and television mounted to the wall, and screwed up her nose in frustration. The room was empty. The decor seemed rather spartan, even to Ashley, who’d never really done much decorating beyond throwing up a photo or two. She turned right, stopping about halfway down when she caught her reflection in an old oak-framed mirror.

She’d seen the RPR armor more than once, but inspecting it from the outside and seeing it looking back at her in the mirror was a very different experience. For a woman, Ashley was about average height, roughly five-foot-five, the armor added a good fourteen or fifteen inches. No one would suspect that the person within was the vivacious young blonde. Most would assume that a man wore the suit.

Malcolm based it on the same technology that powered the Indigo Knight’s suit and shared a few of the same design elements. With the latter’s armor, however, he’d gone with a medieval motif. Hers was more sleek and streamlined and looked like something a villain might wear rather than a hero. While the armor was predominately red, a few bits of black and silver shone between segments.

Four glowing red lights, two about four inches in diameter, and the other pair about two, shone from the chest-piece. Segmented pieces of armor overlapped, to form a bulletproof shell around the wearer. She flexed her hand in front of the mirror, segmented digits moving with as much ease as if they were her real fingers.

It was the helmet that sold the look. The face was mostly black, blending in with the red tones around the edges. Red light shone out from two dark sockets, and a grill that covered the ‘mouth’ portion of the faceplate pulsated and throbbed with angry scarlet illumination. A second, smaller one that comprised two slits, glowed with the same eerie red color, and took up the center of the face where a nose would be. She shivered and glanced down at the energy blade still pulsating from her arm. The weapon was curved like a scythe.

She peered back at the mirror. The helmet resembled a skull and she held her breath as she repeated the suit’s designation in her mind. Like the Indigo Knight armor there was a clear motif, he’d meant the suit to resemble some robotic red grim reaper, thus the skull-like helmet and scythe-style blade.

She moved away from the mirror, mind swirling with the revelation. Had Malcolm designed this suit with some evil purpose in mind? She’d had what some would call a checkered past, but a bank-robber who could walk through walls and had a weak spot for damsels in distress was a far cry from the image that sprang to life. No, she shuddered, she would never go down that route. She would only use the suit for good.

Four doors lined the hallway. The first led to the bathroom, a tiny, little affair, that while clean could do with some repairs, and the second, a home office. She only glanced inside for the barest of seconds before closing the door again. She regarded the final two doors. She thought perhaps, given the size of the home, the one at the end of the hallway was a closet. So she selected the other, cracking it open before swinging it wide.

Putrid green light spilled out into the doorway and as she peered inside, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. An inert form lay sprawled atop a queen bed. Luminescent green swirls gyrated and pulsated in the air above him.

"What the fuck?" Ashley asked aloud, the voice changer in the helmet producing a deep baritone growl instead of her usual soft soprano.

She stepped forward, and stopped, slamming into the empty air as if she’d smacked into a brick wall. The girl took a step back, heart pounding away inside her chest, and licked her lips.

"Uh, Nabu. I think we’ve hit a bit of a snag." She placed her hands on her hips and let out a sigh. Making contact with Brian van den Broeke would be a little more difficult than she’d expected.

Shit.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Magic implements thrummed and throbbed with barely contained energies. Trapped souls, failed experiments, and creatures borne of dark sorcery, each more gruesome than the last populated Daisy’s laboratory. She regarded each in turn and her lips curled into a soft, innocent smile.

When she first came to this world, she’d lost decades of researched and hundreds of carefully cataloged magical artifacts, most of which had, no doubt, been destroyed after her defeat by Kruhl and Reesha. Her heart still seethed from the loss, but there was no hope of recovering what was gone. So she’d started anew. Most of her experiments were failures, but even when she mis-stepped she learned something helpful.

She moved past Amelia van den Broeke’s inert form sprawled across a stretcher wheeled in by one of her cronies and regarded the sweet-looking young girl in the mirror mounted on the opposite wall. So many had under-estimated her, and with all but a few exceptions they were dead or subverted to serve her.

She moaned, licking her soft feminine mouth, a shiver of excitement working up and down her spine at the thought of bending one more mind to her will. She bit her lip and gazed at the agent. Such an attractive woman, she thought. Perhaps Van den Broeke would make an able lover. She looked forward to finding out.

She moved to stand above the stretcher, planted her staff in the ground and slid her fingers across Amelia’s stomach. The sorceress shuddered in pleasure as her magic pulsated about the room.

She knew from her mole within AEGIS that agents underwent training to resist mind control techniques, but breaching the agent’s consciousness had been far easier than she’d expected. The sorceress had been looking forward to the challenge of bending and shaping a consciousness, and though she had yet to initiate the magics which would subvert the other, it was only a matter of time before she shattered the rest of her resistance and her mind would be hers to do with as she pleased. How very disappointing, she’d been expecting more of a challenge.

She stood, staff alight, her magic coursing through Amelia’s mind. Only a little longer and the agent would be ready. Then she would—

An explosion of shattering glass resounded in the distance and Daisy froze, craning her neck back toward the door.

Her mouth creased into a frown and then a scowl when two more explosions rang out, each louder than the one before. This could only Leoffa’s doing. She clenched her teeth and rushed out of the room, staff aglow. Amelia’s inert form all but forgotten.

Gunfire rang out all around them, and Kruhl grated her teeth, ducking in front of the Diadem’s bumper for cover. Teressa grunted and dove beside her, panting for breath.

A barrage of weapons fire had foiled their attempt to return to the car. Kruhl didn’t know whether it was blind luck or intuition, but the warriors of the police clan had hemmed them in, somehow navigating through the dense haze which Teressa summoned. Now the pair lay about like sitting geese, vulnerable to attack. Neither of the women carried a weapon, and though Kruhl had once been a formidable warrior, she did not like her chances.

Nevertheless, when the first police clan attacker came into sight, she leapt up and rushed him, hoping to catch the man by surprise. Kruhl dealt the first blow, but it barely seem to faze her opponent. The police warrior swung toward her and slammed the butt of his weapon into the side of her face. His attack sent her flailing and she fell, throwing her arms out to catch herself before her face hit the ground, but not soon enough to prevent her breasts from impacting with a sharp burst of pain.

Though her face and chest throbbed in agony, Kruhl rolled onto her side and scrambled back to her feet, bracing herself for another assault, but it never came. Teressa lurched forward, grappling with the man. Kruhl rushed toward her, thinking to help, but her companion kneed the man in the groin and he crumbled to the ground like a sack of turnips.

Teressa bent over, retrieving something dangling from his belt and held it before Kruhl, jangling a small ring with three narrow flat objects, which Kruhl supposed were keys.

Kruhl arched an eyebrow, "The locker?"

"Only one way to find out," Teressa replied, arching an eyebrow.

She bent over retrieving the officer’s gun, before slamming the butt against the side of his head, and rushed away, making a beeline for the back of the evidence locker.

Kruhl regarded her with wide eyes, her face stretching into a grin as she followed suit. Magnificent! Teressa was indeed a warrior at heart.

The once-king found Teressa, knelt down on the floor, already trying the keys in the lock, but when the other woman cursed in frustration and tossed them over her shoulder, Kruhl’s heart sank.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Teressa gritted her jaw, her eyes burning with rage. "We can’t seriously be this close, and not—"

She stopped, staring down at the fire stick, the flames in her gaze burning even brighter. She licked her lips and raised the weapon. "Maybe… there’s still a way."

With no prompting, she took aim and opened fire. A loud bang rang through the air and Kruhl brought her hands up to her ears, too late to muffle the sound. She only took her eyes off the locker for a moment, but when her gaze again fell on it, Teressa was swinging the door open.

Teressa reached inside, drawing Waldere free from the metal enclosure and extended it toward the former king, its polished steel surface gleaming. Kruhl regarded the weapon, eyes wide, hand shaking as she clasped it about the grip. Her grip couldn’t even reach all the way around.

All this time she’d been so eager to retrieve the sword, but had put no thought into what she would do once she had it. Defeat Odalrik, sure, but she didn’t consider how she might accomplish such a task. How might she make use of the sword? It was almost as long as she was tall. It possessed magic, but such power was most effective when used with the weapon’s more mundane aspect, the blade itself.

Kruhl grunted, pulling the weapon up off the ground. Gods, it was heavy! She held it up for several seconds, her muscles burning, before grunting and setting it back down.

So weak… She scowled. Of all the forms she could have worn, why this one? Even if she were to train and strengthen her body, her frail little frame would never be suitable for combat. She was just too small. Even at her physical peak, anyone she was likely to face would be stronger than her. It was the most sobering realization Kruhl had ever made, and it hit as if it were an actual blow to the gut.

She released her hold, took a step back and peered down at her tiny hands. Her new body, with its wide hips and soft curves, was better suited to bearing children than combat. Kruhl met Teressa’s gaze, and swallowed, a pit forming in her stomach as she realized what she must do. The younger Van den Broeke sister was a better fit to defeat Odalrik, she’d survived for a long time against his repeated attempts to enthrall her and, if the way she’d carried herself against the police warrior was any sign, she would do well on the battlefield. She was tall for a human woman and well built. She may very well possess the strength necessary.

The weapon’s magic only permitted those deemed worthy to wield its power, but if Kruhl relinquished it to Teressa, it would recognize her as its rightful wielder.

"What’s the matter?" Teressa asked, her brows furrowed.

"I-I don’t think I am meant to bear Waldere," Kruhl peered back at her, tears now streaming down her face. She gritted her teeth, rocking her head back and forth. "Not anymore."

"You must take the blade," Kruhl continued grabbing the handle and thrusting the pommel at Teressa. "It’s yours."

Teressa gazed at Kruhl and blinked. Then a slow, malicious smile stretched over her lips and she erupted into a fit of hysterical laughter. She jerked the weapon out of the once-king’s hands. Kruhl realized at once something was amiss, but it was too late.

"That was much easier than I expected," Teressa said, her voice seething with malicious glee as she thrust the blade out and through Kruhl’s abdomen.

Blood gurgled from Kruhl’s lips and she fixed her gaze on the other woman, her mouth agape. "Why?"

Teressa clenched her jaw and shoved the blade deeper. "You always were a little dense Kruhl, but I wouldn’t expect you to recognize me, not after all these years and certainly not in this body."

The other leaned in, her lips brushing against Kruhl’s ear. "It doesn’t feel so good does it? Betrayed by someone you care about. All this time I’ve waited, hoping for a chance at revenge, and then out of the blue there you are again. You stabbed me through the gut and left me for dead. It’s only fitting I return the favor."

Teressa jerked her arm back, sliding the blade free from Kruhl’s stomach and for the briefest of moments she remained standing, recognition marking her face before her eyes grew wide in terror.

Before she could topple over, Teressa grabbed Kruhl by the collar of her shirt, her face contorted in rage. "Say my name Kruhl."

"Leoffa," Kruhl repeated the name and a grim, satisfied smile crept across the other woman’s face. She threw Kruhl away from her and the once-king slammed into the ground, blood spewing from her wound. A shock of pain racked her body as she impacted the floor. Her head rebounded twice before it settled in place. A thousand questions were on the tip of her tongue, but Teressa turned away at the sound of footsteps.

"Well, what a nice little reunion this is," a light, feminine voice called out.

Kruhl tried to prop herself up to get a better view, but fell back over, clutching at her stomach, attempting to keep her entrails from spewing out.

She could already feel the end coming. Soon Dohan would come, mounted upon her terrible black steed, and carry her away into the afterlife…

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Well, what a nice little reunion this is," Daisy called, her lips settling into a malicious grin.

Leoffa swirled around, moving away from Kruhl’s bleeding form and came to face the elder sorceress.

Daisy regarded Leoffa. Her enemy wore a different face from the one she was sporting when last they met. She was leaner, taller and bore a distinct resemblance to Van den Broeke. The sorceress understood the significance at once, but she did not speak, instead readying herself for the attack which was sure to come.

When they first came to this world, it had been Daisy who had healed the other from the wounds inflicted by Kruhl. At first, terrified by the strange new realm which they’d come to inhabit, they banded together, an uneasy alliance, but one which benefited them both. As they came to trust one another, Daisy found, much to her surprise, that Leoffa also had a talent for sorcery and so she trained her in the ways of magics.

Back when they awoke on this Earth her apprentice wore the face of a rather handsome youth, but dissatisfied with her male form, she experimented with her powers, altering herself to appear more feminine, eventually ridding herself of any residual masculinity. Daisy shuddered. Such a pity he’d been so interesting to look at. It appeared she’d again altered her form, but this time Daisy suspected it had more to do with manipulating the agent.

Each sorceress had their own talents. Daisy was better able to hop bodies than to alter her form. Though manipulating minds was a breeze, recreating Leoffa’s illusions took far more effort. There was some overlap, but there existed a clear divide between what abilities came naturally and a skill for them to learn and hone. Daisy knew a much broader range of spell works because of her experience, but that was not to say the other sorceress didn’t represent a threat.

Now that Leoffa possessed the magical sword, she’d gained an edge that Daisy would not abide. It was fortunate that she possessed the staff. She wouldn’t have stood a chance against the sword otherwise.

Daisy’s staff acted as a focus, a medium to channel magical energies and better control them. Without it, she could only perform the most basic of magics. She’d destroyed Leoffa’s staff in their last major confrontation all those years ago. The only focus which the other possessed was that of a simple amethyst crystal hung about her neck. It was nowhere near as potent as Daisy’s staff.

Leoffa held Waldere, the great sword’s surface stained with the blood of its former master. Daisy cursed herself. She had taken the weapon, thinking, in her arrogance, that only Kruhl could wield it. In her current form, the barbarian didn’t present much of a danger no matter how much she pounded her chest. Not once had the sorceress considered that Leoffa would successfully manipulate the once-king into handing it over to her. What a fool she’d been.

Now Leoffa wielded the combined might of the sword and her own innate magics. Daisy did not hesitate, raising her staff to hurl a bolt of energy at the sorceress. Lightning quick, the other woman raised her weapon and the blast sizzled into nothingness.

"Odalrik." Leoffa’s lips curled into a sneer. "I was wondering when you would show your face."

Daisy winced at the other woman’s use of her old name, but didn’t speak. Leoffa knew her opponent hated it.

Instead, she raised the staff, targeted her opponent’s spell haze, and sent a burst of magic coursing into the air all around them. Green bursts of energy swirled about, sweeping away Leoffa’s illusions before slinking toward her and oozing back into the staff.

The scene that resolved before her was more or less what she expected, but that wasn’t why she’d cleared the mist. Chief Avery, and two other members of the police force, no longer hindered by the haze, came rushing up beside their mistress, weapon’s drawn on the rival sorceress.

"What exactly did you think you’d accomplish, Leoffa?" Daisy scowled her voice taking on a rough edge. "Surrender and tell me where the crystal is and you may yet live."

Leoffa’s answer, at first, seemed predictable, and Daisy’s disappointment was palatable. Her former apprentice lurched forward, sword drawn, and rushed Daisy. Chief Avery stepped forward, intersecting the younger woman, gun blazing. When the bullet’s hit, they zoomed through the sorceress, her image wobbled and quaivered before shattering into a thousand pieces and dissolving away into nothingness.

Daisy’s eyes grew wide. She jerked sideways and swirled around, at once realizing her mistake. It had been one of Leoffa’s illusions. Waldere’s blade sliced through the empty air in the space her head just vacated and she swung her staff out, striking Leoffa in her side. The other woman grunted and backed away, sword held ready.

Daisy didn’t give her another chance to attack. She hurled out a sizzling bolt of power, and though the blade caught the strike before it could land home, the accompanying gust of wind sent her tumbling back. Avery and her subordinates opened fire again, but Leoffa vanished before the bullets hit.

She reappeared a moment later, blade slicing through the chest of one of Avery’s men, splattering blood all over Daisy and a second man named Briggs before disappearing. Bone was no obstacle to the sword, other weapons might have had difficulty slicing through, but Waldere was a weapon of magic. It could pass through it as easily as butter. Stone, too.

Daisy barely even glanced at the dead man, before she scowled, lifted her staff and hurled a barrage of putrid green fire scouring out in a wide swath.

The attack hit Briggs, and he howled in agony, before he burned up in a tower of flame and disintegrated into ash. Avery’s quick wits spared her. She dove behind the sorceress and stayed out of reach of the inferno.

Daisy sent two full rotations of green fire around the room, before cutting it off. She planted her staff in the ground and casted her eyes about wildly. Leoffa knelt just off to one side, Waldere held blade down before her, clothes and hair were licked by the flames. Even her shoulder was aflame, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Her apprentice lurched to her feet, hand clasped about her throat. Three more Leoffa’s each identical from the last, stepped out from inside her and three more from each of those and another three from each of the newest batch.

There would be no telling which was the true Leoffa and which were illusions, but it mattered little to the sorceress. She sent out more spell fire, this time in a wave. Each of the illusory forms shattered and dissolved away until none remained.

"Dammit!" She cursed, the other sorceress was as slippery as an eel. She swung about, sending out random bursts of fire into the empty room, but it was to no avail. None of her attacks seemed to land home.

"LEOFFA!" She screamed out, slamming the butt of her staff into the ground. "Show yourself."

To no one’s surprise, Leoffa did not comply and Daisy gritted her teeth, shrieking at the top of her lungs. A rush of energy coalesced within the gem of the staff and she released it into the wall, blasting a hole about a foot wide.

Cold steel touched her neck and Daisy froze, vainly attempting to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Don’t move." Leoffa was so close she felt droplets of her spit speckle the back of her neck.

Daisy suffered no illusions that, given the chance, Leoffa would end her life, she’d threatened to do so on more than one occasion. Even were she to surrender there would be no bargaining, or deal making, just an execution. Daisy was too dangerous of an enemy to leave alive.

So, rather than surrender, she took the one course she believed that might give her a chance at survival. She lurched forward and rolled to the ground, infusing her staff with magical energies, before spinning back around to face her old pupil, fire already spewing out. She did not bother forming a protective barrier, Waldere would cut through it.

Leoffa’s weapon came arching down toward her, blade reflecting the florescent light of the station. Waldere moved through the air so quickly, that sorceress didn’t even feel it glide through her scalp, down her eye-socket and into her neck. Few swords could have cut through flesh with such ease, but few were imbued with as much power as the great blade.

Daisy’s victory cry became a gurgle as her spell fire hit home, sending the other woman reeling away. Leoffa panted, clutching at the charred flesh on her side, and turned back toward the other sorceress in time to see her lifeless form collapse face-forward. The blade still imbedded in her flesh, Waldere’s pommel hit the tiled floor with a metallic thud.

Chief Avery let out a high-pitched screech and clutched at her head as if she were in excruciating pain. She stood there for several long minutes before collapsing to her knees and wept into her hands.

Leoffa sneered at the pitiful display and retrieved Daisy’s staff. The gem in the center, once a brilliant green, had faded to black, a sure sign her enemy was dead. At last, she would have a staff of her ow. It had been so long.

A slow smile crept across her face as she leaned over to retrieve Waldere, yanking it from the other’s corpse with a violent jerk. Blood splattered her face, but it was not the first time, nor did she believe it would be the last. Daisy was at last dead, and she glanced over in Kruhl’s direction, the once-king soon would be too.

She glanced at Avery, who’d collapsed into a fetal position, and pressed her lips together in a thin line. Sooner or later the woman would either go mad, or she would come to her senses and return to she’d been in before Daisy had enthralled her. She rather liked the thought of the Chief reduced to a blithering madwoman, but if she recovered, she would be a threat.

Better to end her before that happened. She raised Waldere, intent on doing just that, but stopped when a voice spoke from the other side of the room.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you."

Leoffa spun around, blade and staff in hand, to find a figure standing in an open doorway, both fists balled at its side.

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Amelia’s eyes cracked open. She attempted to sit up, but only managed to pull herself up about an inch before she struck an invisible wall and settled back into place. She turned her head, peering about, sucking air in through her teeth.

She recoiled as she caught the gaze of a creature slouched over a shelf. It gurgled, long tentacles writhing and gyrating in the air as a trio of blood-red eyes fixed on her. A strangled moan sounded from the reverse wall and she shuddered and looked away. She peered straight into the eye of what most resembled a lime Jello mold, the second monster gazed at her with its one great unblinking eye, quivering there on its shelf.
She gazed back at the first creature, and then a third one roosted upon a shelf along the eastern wall which resembled an enormous round bird with big black eyebrows. It cooed, emitting a dozen loud warbles before taking a nosedive off its shelf and landing in a stack of crates.

Neither of the other two monsters moved, and she bit her bottom lip, eying a row of implements stacked around the blob creature. There was a box of glass bottles, each filled with a different-colored liquid, most look innocuous, but one of them hissed. Next to the box were arrayed a dog’s skull, a playground ball which glowed purple and a mannequin head which had the most ghastly grin on its face, and whose eyes kept blinking.

There were dozens more, some on the stranger side, but most tended toward the more gruesome, like the statue which was exuding something that looked like blood from its mouth.

She did not understand where she was or how she’d come to be there, but she had a good idea who’d brought her.

Amy thought back to her very brief encounter with Ashtar, and the warning which the alien consciousness had passed on to her. She’d needed time for her enhanced healing factor to work through the tranquilizers and time was up. With Ashtar’s help the agent created a partitioned construct within her own mind to trick Odalrik into attacking it instead of her actual consciousness and, failing some convoluted means of deception on her enemy’s part, the ploy had worked.

She set her jaw and moved to sit up, but again hit an invisible obstruction. When she lifted her arm, it would only move up a few inches. The agent pushed out with all the strength she could muster, and nothing happened. If there was some way she might break through, it would not be with physical force.

She let her eyelids slip shut, released a long breath and extended her senses. She felt nothing save for the hammer of her heart, and the blood coursing through her veins. It was almost as if someone had encapsulated her within a dome of transparent GUNQ.

Shit.

Her eyes snapped back open as the sound of gunfire rang out. The walls and doorway stifled it, but it was still discernable. Shrieks of rage, followed by brief bouts of silence and more gunfire.

"LEOFFA!" A voice screamed from somewhere outside the room, again muffled, but still audible and clear. "Show yourself!"

Amelia froze, her heart pounding in her ears, as her mind raced. She had no idea who was fighting on the other side of that wall, but she didn’t think it boded well for her at all. The agent gritted her teeth, and furrowed her brows.

A wave of power rippled out from her palms and she grunted as it rebounded on her and into her chest. She panted and clamped her jaw shut against the pain. In retrospect that hadn’t been the brightest idea, but she had to try something.

She took several deep breaths, attempting to steady herself and reached deep within herself ensuring that she’d done no damage to the child before releasing her breath and opened her eyes again.

What chance did she have at making an escape, if she couldn’t breach the invisible field around herself?

She sighed, as she reached out with her mind, probing the surrounding space attempting to find a hole in the barrier, but found none. The agent slumped back and growled under her breath. It didn’t look as if she’d be going anywhere soon.

"Ashtar," she said clenching her eyes shut and emitted a soft moan. "I don’t suppose you have any ideas, do you?"

No answer came and she sank her teeth into her lower teeth, letting out several choice curses. "Of course."

A high-pitched wail sounded through the air and Amy’s eye’s snapped open. She sat bolt-upright, only realizing that the barrier holding her in place was gone, a few seconds later. Amy peered around the room, eyes locking on the door, before she leapt from her resting place and bolted through it.

She stopped, holding her breath in her throat. Kruhl lay off to one side in a pool of her own blood, three more bodies lay scattered about the room, either dead or unconscious. A figure stood, a familiar gem-topped staff clutched in one hand and Waldere stained with blood, raised over another figure curled up in a fetal position.

She narrowed her eyes, centering them on the figure which she presumed to be Odalrik.

She squared her jaw and balled both fists at her side. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you."

The figure spun around, and she felt her eyse grow wide. No, not Odalrik, it was Teressa. All at once, the second part of Ashtar’s warning rattled about in her mind. You are being influenced, not all is as it appears. The shadow of the goddess’s words rang through her mind and at last the last puzzle piece fell into place.

So little about their predicament had made sense until now. The phone line cutting out, the computer burning up and the dark cloaked apparition were all her doing. At last, her true enemy stood before her.

Teressa must have seen something on her face or else decided to end the ruse. She charged toward her would be sister. Amy, however, was ready for it. She threw her hand out and sent her attacker slamming into the opposite wall.

"Who are you?" Amy moved toward her, both hands clenched, eyes burning with anger. Whatever doubts she had evaporated when her opponent attacked.

Teressa did not answer, instead scowled and eye hder captor like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. Amy was not intimidated, least of all because the other woman was pinned to the wall, but she’d faced down gods and giants. Though her opponent had shown she could be dangerous, she was no Chemosh.

"Who are you?" the agent repeated her question between clenched teeth.

"You know I would have thought an AEGIS agent wouldn’t have been so easy to fool. I barely even had to try, all the effort I put into imprisoning poor Brian, and I could have just—"

Amelia jerked her hand back, motioning at the wall behind her, her face now a mask of rage as Teressa went soaring across the room and slammed into the reverse wall face first.

"You played me." She launched herself at the other woman, hand gripping the hair on the back of her scalp. Teressa, whose face was red from obvious pain, attempted to kick out at her, but Amy slid aside and sent another wave of force to pin her legs against the wall along with the rest of her body.

A light whimper rang through the air, and Amelia glanced back, eyes searching for the source. It was Kruhl. Good lord, the once-king was still alive, but from the looks of things she wouldn’t be for long. She snaked her tongue over her lips and returned her attention to her captive.

"I will only say this once." Amy growled. "Tell me who you are and what you’ve done with my brother."

In answer the faux-Van den Broeke emitted a loud, guffawing, almost manic laugh. "And why should I do that? Go ahead waste your time with me, while poor little Kruhl bleeds to death. It’s the least of what he deserves."

Amy froze, another puzzle piece falling into place as realization dawned on her. For the other woman, this was personal and knowing what she did of Kruhl’s past that could mean only one thing.

"Leoffa," the agent uttered the name, knowing at once her suspicions were true. Kruhl had presumed her former lover dead. While getting impaled through the gut was often fatal, especially in less advanced societies, like Kruhl’s, it was not unheard of for someone to recover.

The agent glanced over her shoulder for a second time, heart hammering in her chest. Kruhl didn’t have much time and she couldn’t afford to waste what little she had left on the imposter. She licked her lips, already settled on a course of action.

Leoffa was not going to cooperate. The agent clenched her eyes closed, placed both hands on either of the woman’s cheeks and reached out to touch her mind.

Amelia jerked away, sharp stabs of pain shooting through her skull as she took air in, in short jagged breaths. She’d sensed Brian, his presence was as discernible as if he were standing opposite her, looking his sister in the eyes. She caught sight of pulsating green lights and a figure resting in a bed. When she reached for his mind, everything went black and she staggered back gasping for air.

"Brian." She spoke the name and peered up at Leoffa, already preparing herself for attack, but the other looked about as bad as the agent felt. She was hunched over, both hands braced on the wall, her face pallid and the sword and staff had fallen to her feet. Only her eyes revealed the anger which burned within.

Amy ground her teeth, raised her hands and hurled a blast of telekinetic force toward her opponent, but the other woman sank to the ground and grasped hold of the sword. When the blast hit, nothing happened, and Leoffa glared back at her, scooped up the fallen staff and rose to her feet.

"I have no desire to end your life, agent," the sorceress said planting the staff on the floor, the tip erupting with brilliant violet light. "Nevertheless, I am prepared to defend myself."

"Yeah," Amy replied, narrowing her gaze and holding both hands ready. "That’s why you attacked me."

"Forgive me, I was caught up in the excitement of battle. I believed you a threat, but you are a reasonable enough person. I think perhaps we could come to an arrangement. Even if my life doesn’t matter to you, you might feel differently about Kruhl. Even now her life slips away, allow me to walk and you may yet save her."

Amy glanced to her side, where Kruhl was resting. She saw the diminutive woman’s chest rise and fall, but she was as pail as a ghost and the pool of blood around her was getting wider. Time was running short. Sapphira had once healed Amelia with her abilities, the agent might be able to do the same for Kruhl, but only if the little woman were still alive.

The agent pressed her lips into a thin line, suspicious by the abrupt turn around but willing to listen. The woman had lied to her from the very beginning and that didn’t generate a lot of trust.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but if you let me leave with the sword, I will not lift a finger to harm you for twenty-four hours. You have my word."

A slow nod of her head followed a long release of air. She didn’t like it much, but if the sorceress was on the level, she’d take the risk. "Very well, we’re agreed." She said, forcing a quiver out of her voice.

Leoffa nodded, gave Amelia a warning glance then turned away taking several ginger steps before peering back at Amy. "Leave this place, and I will allow you safe passage, but should you stay, I will destroy you. You have a day to decide."

She turned away, moving through the wreckage of the police station before stepping out into the open air and disappearing into the shadows. Amy only hesitated a moment before spinning around, rushing toward Kruhl and lunged to her knees at the other woman’s side. Blood seeped into the fabric of her slacks, but she paid it any mind.

Hands whipped out, hovering over Kruhl’s wounded abdomen, and the agent closed her eyes, stretching her senses. Kruhl’s presence was faint, save for her wound which burned scarlet bright in the agent’s mind. It throbbed, reverberating through Amy’s awareness as if the pain were her own. She pulled her hands away to clutch at her stomach, but stopped herself, instead willing her senses deeper. The flesh was jagged and raw about the edges, like torn fabric. Her insides weren’t any better, the attack had left them shredded to a pulp, and blood and stomach acid were gushing out.

Amy bit her lip as her fingers tingled. She concentrated on the injured flesh, willing it to mend, and, to her surprise, it began to knit together. Her stomach exploded in burning and throbbing with each pulse of healing energy. Her insides burned with searing hot pain which radiated from her body and into Kruhl’s wounds. She doubled over, keeping herself from collapsing atop the injured woman.

Sapphira had once described the healing process to her, how by mending the flesh of another you took their injuries upon yourself, or at least the pain from them. She hadn’t imagined that it would be so intense, but it was the most agonizing experience of her life.

As the last of Kruhl’s tissue knitted together, the edges of her consciousness were tugged toward the darkness. She blinked and shook her head, attempting to shake it away, but she soon found herself laying upon the cold floor. The last thing the agent heard before drifting into unconsciousness was the steady cadence of metal clanking on ceramic tiles.

Official Report
3412 Abby Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

A long soft sigh escaped Amelia’s lips. Birdsong wafted in from out of the darkness and she jerked upright, eyes wide and hands sliding over her belly. She panted, scanning the tiny room, before swallowing and pursing her lips.

Where was she?

Light spilled in from a small window adjacent to the bed atop which she rested and she peered through it. A large elm’s branches spread out into the sky, blocking her view of most of the street beyond.

"Oh thank god," a voice said from the doorway and Amelia’s head jerked sideways to face the newcomer.

Amy blinked, watching the blond girl, unable to look away. "Ashley, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well," Ashley grinned leaning against the door frame one hand on her hip. "It’s nice to see you too."

The agent released a lengthy breath and let out a low throaty chuckle with a slow shake of her head. "I mean, it is a relief to see a familiar face, I just didn’t expect you to be here."

"How did I—" Amy stopped looking around the room.

"Get here?" Ashley finished folding her arms across her chest. "It’s a long story, but the short answer is I found you and brought you here."

Amelia arched an eyebrow. "And the long answer?"

The younger woman pursed her lips, stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"Probably best if no one else heard this," she winced and ran a hand through her shock of flaxen hair. She moved across the room, sat beside Amelia on the bed, placing a hand on the agent’s knee. Then with a long release of air she spoke. "I guess I should start by telling you that Sapphira’s in the hospital."

That caught Amy’s attention, she regarded the other woman, eyes going wide. "What?"

"She collapsed a several days ago, after taking a call from an Idaho area code. And before you ask, I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Nobody does. I wish I had better news."

Amelia pressed her lips together and bowed her head. A tear ran down her cheek, but she wiped it away before peering back up at her companion.

"Probably, the work of one of our friends," the agent said with a slight quiver in her voice. "I have reason to suspect there’s a mole inside AEGIS, they were probably afraid Sapphira would come to my rescue when I disappeared."

Or else raise hell if I turned up dead. Amelia added, but didn’t trust herself to voice that notion.

Her heart ached at the image of Sapphira sitting inert in a hospital bed somewhere. Throughout this entire ordeal she hadn’t once considered trying to contact her partner. Why was that? She swallowed reflecting back to Ashtar’s warning that she was being influenced and tasted bile in her throat. Maybe, Leoffa had influenced her in more ways than one.

"Shit," Ashley cursed. "I was afraid it was something like that."

"Tell me the rest," Amelia said biting the inside of her cheek.

Ashley did, apprising her of her travels to Tondzaosha, witnessing the police taking her into custody and everything from there up to finding Brian van den Broeke trapped within his strange luminescent prison. She would have continued, but caught a gleam in Amelia’s eyes and paused, regarding her friend, eyebrows furrowed.

Amelia didn’t speak, instead thinking back to when she’d reached into Leoffa’s mind. There had been a brief flash and images very like those described by Ashley. There must be some connection.

"What happened after that?" Amelia asked, stroking her chin, her lips pressed in a thoughtful expression.

"Well, I tried for a good thirty minutes to reach him, and then… well, things got even stranger…

"Okay, that’s not working."

Ashley threw a fist out in frustration. It impacted the space above Brian van den Broeke and a dull metallic thud sounded.

"Perhaps, you should hit it again, miss. I’m sure it will work better the fourth time." Nabu’s voice intoned in her ear.

Ashley growled under her breath, but didn’t dignify him with a reply. Instead she turned away and clenched her eyes releasing a steady breath. "I don’t suppose you have any ideas, Nabu, do you?"

"No, miss, this is quite beyond my area of expertise."

"I hate to say this, but if there’s nothing I can do here, it may be time to—"

"Miss, as loath as I am to interrupt, I am detecting a spike in energy readings." Nabu spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps you may wish to give it another look."

Ashley spun around as a high-pitched screech rang through the air. The lights above Brian‘s inert form pulsated and intensified and he sat bolt upright…

"Andy!" He screamed the name, repeating it over and over, hands clutching the side of his head.

The lights swirled faster and faster, growing so bright that Ashley winced and brought a hand up to shield her eyes. A whoosh of air blew into her and she braced herself as a surge of energy cascaded out in every direction. The illumination grew so intense that she closed her eyes and averted her gaze.

Once her vision cleared, she lowered her hands and moved toward Brian. He watched her approach with wide eyes.

"Impostor, betrayal… sword. Blood gushing." He mumbled peering past Ashley’s armored form almost as if she were not even there.

He hugged his knees and rocked back and forth, several long sobs escaping his lips. "She will die."

"Who?" She demanded, her voice coming out as a low guttural growl through the suit’s voice changer.

He didn’t answer, instead he threw his head back and a raw, wheezing manic laugh sounded from his mouth. "The one who was king… her blood everywhere," he mumbled. "My brother who’s now my sister. Times ticking… ticking… out through the window…"

"Fuck."

Ashley didn’t hesitate. She lurched forward, armored form shooting through the bedroom window, glass shattering and cascading across the front lawn in her wake. Heart hammering in her chest, her destination already in mind, she shot into the open sky above. She couldn’t say why, but she was certain that he’d been speaking of Amelia. It sounded like the ravings of a madman, but somehow she understood that the danger was real.

"You just left Brian there?" Amelia cut in her disbelief reflected in her emerald eyes.

"I freaked out…" Ashley grimaced one hand kneading the back of her neck. "I didn’t stop to reflect, I just acted."

"If it makes you feel better, I came back for him after. He was still there, at least in the physical sense, but mentally… Well, let’s just say he’s a few bricks short of a load."

Amelia’s lips trembled and a sob escaped her lips. "All because that woman was trying to get to me."

She wiped the tears from her eyes and regarded her blond friend who was now shedding a few tears of her own. When the agent spoke her voice trembled. "So? I guess you found me."

Ashley nodded, swallowing hard. "Uh, yeah. I figured since the police had you, you’d probably be at the station, and sure enough that’s where you and the girl were, unconscious in a pool of blood. Shit, I thought you were dead. After I went back for your brother, I brought everyone here."

"Kruhl?" Amy asked, but her friend just blinked. The agent sighed, closed her nice and massaged her temple. "The short blond woman."

"Oh! She’s fine, I think. She hasn’t woken up yet. There was blood all over her when I happened upon you guys, but I couldn’t find any cuts or scrapes, I guess none of it was hers."

"And Brian?" Amelia asked staring back at her swallowing hard.

"Asleep, last I checked." Ashley brushed the hair away from her face. "And there’s something else…"

Amy gaze intensified her eyes boring holes into the other woman. "Um, I didn’t know any safe places… and who to trust. I didn’t even know what was wrong with you so I, uh…" she trailed off wincing under the scrutiny of her friend’s gaze.

"You what?" Amy asked a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

"I worried you would need medical attention and since the files Malcolm gave me said your mother was a nurse…"

"Oh, god," Amelia sighed glancing around. "Don’t tell me this is her place."

"No! Actually," Ashley jerked her head from side to side. "But she’s here. She said this place belonged to a friend."

Amy sighed and gritted her teeth. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, her mother gets thrown into the mix.

Oh hell.

Official Report
3412 Abby Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Um." Amy groaned, slipping a hand over her belly, as a slow gurgle rumbled its way through her abdomen. She’d had some minor queasiness over the past few days, but she’d been hoping the worst of her morning sickness was passed. It seemed she’d been wrong.

"Goddammit, not again…." she trailed off and closed her eyes. "I think I need the bathroom."

"Uh, sure." Ashley said, her brows furrowed and she gestured across the room. "It’s right across the hall."

Amy lurched to her feet, hand still clasped over her stomach and sprinted toward the door. She swung it open and was through the one on the opposite side of the hallway in seconds. Without preamble, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet and hurled her guts out. When she finished, she collapsed atop the seat, panting and chest heaving for breath.

Ashley rushed into the bathroom after her at the sound of retching and stopped outside the door, arm resting on the frame peering in. "Amy, are you all right?"

Amelia collected loose hairs from her face, sighed and peered back at her friend. "I’m fine, it’s because… I’m pregnant."

"Oh," Ashley stared back, eyes widening. "I had no idea."

"Sapphira and I were going to tell everyone after I got back. If you spill the beans…"

"Say no more," Ashley mimed turning a key in her mouth. "Your secret’s safe with me."

Amy stood and shook her head. "If Sapphira doesn’t wake up, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t raise a child by myself. I don’t have any idea what to do. Never once in a million years, did I ever let myself hope I’d get pregnant an—"

A dull thud sounded from the hallway and Ashley peered back. Amelia’s heart leapt into her throat on catching the blond’s wide-eyed grimace.

"Uh, Mrs. Van den Broeke, I didn’t see you there," Ashley spun away from the doorway and Amelia’s mother appeared lugging a plastic storage container in her arms.

Serena van den Broeke turned, regarding her eldest child, eyes wide. "I-I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop I was just bring up some—"

"Oh hell." Amelia groaned placing both palms on the vanity.

"There’s no way I heard that right. You can’t be pregnant, that’s not how it wor—"

Amelia glanced back at her, interrupting her elder. "No, it’s not, but regardless I am pregnant. Look, it’s hard to explain, but sometimes strange things happen to AEGIS personnel in the field. A while back something happened to me and well let’s say… it changed a lot of things."

Serena stood there, mouth agape. "That’s… not—"

Amy gritted her teeth, a scathing reply on the tip of her tongue, but Ashley interjected. "It sounds unbelievable, but she’s telling the truth. I was there, and… she’s not the only one who experienced changes."

Serena lowered her head and sighed. "I didn’t mean to, I mean I wasn’t say—"

"Forget it," Amy waved her hand lips curled into a snarl. "We have bigger concerns, like trying to help my fucking brother."

"Ashley dear, would you take these?" Serena asked holding the plastic container out to the younger woman. "You can take them down to the room at the end of the hall. Amelia and I need to speak alone."

Ashley bit her lip, glanced at Amy, who nodded. She took the tote out of the elder Van den Broeke’s hands and disappeared down the corridor. Serena watched her depart before slipping inside the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

"Amelia, I…" She bowed her head and reached up cupping her daughter’s face. The agent flinched, but didn’t back away as her mother continued. "For years, I imagined what I would say to you if I ever had the chance to see you again and that day when you were in the hospital, I realized how unprepared I was. All those speeches, all the imagined conversations flew right out the window."

Amelia brought both hands up and pulled her mother’s arm down. "This is hard for me." Hot tears cascaded down her face. "I never thought I’d see any of you again. I’d put that part of my life behind me, but the wounds still cut deep and every time I look at your face… I’m so very angry."

"You have every right to be. I was a terrible mother, if I could take back—"

"Can we not do this right now?" Amelia asked a sob racking her body. "We’re not out of the woods yet… not by a long shot."

She slipped past her mother and slipped back into the hallway amidst a torrent of protestations from the other woman. Amelia didn’t glance back, but started down the hall. Stopping about mid-way she put her back to the wall, sank to her knees and wept.

A pair of arms enfolded her and when she looked up, peering into her mother’s eyes. She stiffened, gazing at her elder with wide eyes, then all her resistance crumbled away and she melted into Serena’s arms.

Amelia swallowed, forced back tears and looked Serena in the eyes. In the course of a few days a magical sword had thrown her across a room and landed her in the emergency room, she’d watched a good agent die for no good reason, was betrayed by someone she’d believe was her long-lost brother made over into a sister, learned that her actual brother may have been driven mad by the very same person, and discovered that the love of her life was unconscious in a hospital bed in a ‘not-coma’. Not to mention, she had to contend with her goddamned morning sickness.

"I can’t imagine what you’ve been through." A sad smile touched Serena’s lips. "But judging from some of the things your friend said it couldn’t have been easy."

"Damned hormones." Amelia’s voice quivered. The excuse sounded hollow even to her ears, but her mother only smiled and nodded. "Um… I should probably apolo—"

"No." Serena cut in shaking her head. "I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most you have nothing to apologize for."

"Maybe not then," Amelia said fresh tears burning her eyes. "But you helped me today and that counts for something."

Serena smile widened for a second, but then it slithered off her face replaced by a more somber expression. She climbed up and held her hand out. "Come on, let’s get you off the dirty floor. We wouldn’t want you to catch something. You’re expecting, you need to think of the baby."

Amelia took her mother’s hand and stood with a grunt of effort. She didn’t speak, but pursed her lips tears streaking her cheeks.

"Uh… I should see if there’s something I can do for Brian," the agent said at last.

Serena face looked stricken, but she nodded. "I tried talking to him, but he’s just not all there. I don’t know if anyone can help him."

Amelia sighed and placed both hands on her hips. "I have a better chance than most. Remember how I said something strange happened to me in the field? Well, this body isn’t the only thing that was changed."

Serena’s eyebrows shot up and she peered at her daughter, lips pursed. "What are you saying?"

Amelia flattened her lips together and sealed her eyes, reaching out with her mind. Serena, gasped and peered down at her feet as they rose from the ground. She threw her arms out windmilling them through the air. She remained suspended there for several long moments hovering just a few inches above the ground then Amelia’s eyes snapped back and her feet plopped back onto the hardwood floor with a light thud.

Serena peered at the other Van den Broeke eyes round and eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. "Good lord, how did you do that?"

"Telekinesis." Amelia shrugged and folded her hands. "I can do a lot more, telepathy, mental projection, and some things I’m not sure have a name. Plus, I have an enhanced healing factor, faster reflexes and… I still have my psychometric retrocognizance."

Truth be told, she hadn’t done a full test run, but she had a good idea what she was capable of if Sapphira’s power set was any indication. It seemed only logical that the agent would have the same abilities as the one from whom she’d inherited them, but it was not an assumption she had put to the test.

"So you’re going to, what, probe your brother’s mind?"

Amelia nodded. "It may be the only way I can reach him. Someone has done something unnatural to his mind," she shuddered reflecting on Allison’s retelling of events and her own vision of her brother when she touched Leoffa’s mind. "I don’t believe he can come out of it without some drastic intervention."

"Unnatural? Sounds like it could be dangerous." Serena winced. "Are you sure this is something you want to do?"

"No," Amy admitted. "But it’s something I have to do. Brian became involved in this because of me, I can’t just abandon my brother when he needs my help."

"Okay," Serena sighed. "Just be careful, okay? I’d hate for you to get hurt."

Amelia smiled, tears sliding down her cheeks and lips trembling as she moved down the hallway. Whatever happened, it felt good hearing those words from her mother.

Official Report
3412 Abby Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Hands reaching out, Amelia clasped them over her brother’s temples, releasing a long breath. She peered back over her shoulder, where Kruhl lay unconscious. Her tiny form was wrapped in a nightgown which was at least two sizes too big. She looked so peaceful laying there on the twin bed. Amelia found it hard to believe, she’d been so close to death just hours before.

Serena Van den Broeke stood at the foot of the bed peering at the pair of siblings, concern etched all over her face and mirrored in her eyes.

The agent released a second breath and returned her attention to Brian. His eyes were glued to the ceiling and open so wide she almost expected them to pop out of his skull. A manic grin had spread across his face and he remained frozen in place unmoving but for the rising and falling of his chest.

A single sob escaped the agent’s lips and tears streamed down her cheeks. She clenched her eyes shut and furrowed her brows, sucking in her air. She reached out, feeling for her brother’s mind.

It felt… wrong.

Throbbing, pulsating light filled her vision and a piercing shriek rang out from Brian’s mouth just before everything went black.

"Shhh…" a voice hissed in her ear and Amelia’s eyes snapped open.

A boy, no older than eleven or twelve peered into her eyes, his left index-finger held up to his mouth. "She’ll hear you, Andy."

Amy winced at the usage of her dead name, but did not speak. Instead she took in the boy’s features and sucked in a breath through her teeth.

It was Brian.

Boy-Brian scurried away and Amelia sat bolt upright throwing an arm out, but stopped when she caught sight of her hand. It seemed smaller than it should have been. She swallowed and peeked down at her chest a wave of nausea wash over her at what she found. Her chest was flat. She wore a pair of baggy black jeans, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with an Effervescence logo, a female-fronted band that had been very popular in her youth.

She reached up, hand snaking behind her neck. Her long tresses were done up in a pony tail. She forced herself to breathe and looked around. Her heart pounded in her chest as she eyed the familiar Kim Possible bedsheets and Star Wars and Linkin Park posters along the north wall. It was her childhood bedroom, her place of refuge from her father and his frequent fits of rage.

Here was where she could imagine herself being a girl, and where she hid what few feminine accouterments, she’d been able to obtain. She had been fond of the light blue summer dress, which she’d hid, along with everything else, inside the bottom of the old wooden chest inside her closet.

How many lawns had she mowed, and cars had she washed just to raise enough money to buy what little she had only to have her father throw it all out?

She groaned and closed her eyes, shuddering as a remembered wave of anguish and anger flooded through her. She grated her teeth and opened her eyelids, forcing thoughts of the subsequent beating out of her mind.

She resisted the urge to snoop around, she knew where she was or at least where she seemed to be and considering the decor and the outfit she’d been wearing, she gathered she was inhabiting the body of herself somewhere in her early teens before her father had outed her as trans.

A sharp pang of dysphoria, and overall sense of wrongness washed over her. She trembled, clenching her teeth. It was so wrong, this wasn’t her body. She’d spent years transitioning and undergoing Gender Confirmation Surgery. To find herself back where she started all those years ago, was so very disheartening.

It wasn’t real, she reminded herself with a firm shake of her head. This was all a facsimile, a recreation created by Brian’s mind. She would not allow it to get the best of her.

She wasted no time speculating on the how or why, but peered about the room one last time and slipped through the doorway. Blackness lay on the other side, a void so deep so abiding that it seemed to stretch on forever.

She sprinted across the void, wide eyes peering around, but if there was anyone or anything else inhabiting the emptiness, she caught neither sight nor sound of them. She glanced back, but the doorway leading into her old bedroom had disappeared.

When she turned back a figure stood within an old oak doorway out from which spilled a wafting violet mist. She fingered at long golden tresses with one hand and in the other she gripped a gnarled staff atop which an amethyst gemstone had been affixed. When Amelia first spotted her, she was looking away, but the moment her eyes fell on the woman, she jerked, turning to face her.

Amelia couldn’t say why, but there was a bit of Leoffa in her features. Perhaps it was the intensity of her gaze or the curve of her lips when she curled them into a sneer, but the agent knew she was looking upon the Sorceress, or at least some kind of representation of her.

"He is mine!" The girl shrieked and lifted her staff. A bolt of sizzling violet energy shot out from the gemstone, but Amelia threw both hands up in a warding gesture and brought up a protective shield around herself. Brilliant bright light cascaded against the barrier and grew so intense that it illuminated the darkness into pure white luminescence.

Amy gasped, her feet swept out from under her and her stomach lurched as it swept her away. When her vision cleared she was standing on a rocky outcropping overlooking a river. There had been no sense of landing or transition from falling. One moment, she was simply there.

"Shhh!"

She spun around, Brian stood a few feet away and he looked about eight or nine years old this time. His wide-eyed gaze focus on the canyon. She snatched a hand out, this time grabbing her brother by an arm.

"Brian," Amy asked. "What’s going on here?"

He stared at her, child’s eyes wide, but otherwise expressionless.

Amy licked her lips and met her brother’s gaze. "Listen Brian, it’s me your older sis—brother Andy," she paused stumbling over the use of the male term and her dead name and winced as if she’d dealt herself a physical blow. "I’m here to help, but you have to let me in."

"She’s coming," Brian said in a drawn out whine before tugging on her arm. His wrist slid way and he took off running disappearing into the treeline.

Amelia started after him, but she got only a dozen feet before realizing he was nowhere in sight.

"Dammit," she cursed stomping back over to the outcropping. "What the hell is going on?!"

She stood there, jaw clenched breathing air in between her teeth. Finally with a lengthy sigh, she surveyed her surroundings. She recognized this place, she realized, it was Snake River Canyon. Her family had taken a weekend trip there about eighteen or nineteen years ago.

She again glanced at herself and sure enough her appearance had shifted again. Now, she was sporting camouflage pants and a shirt with the words "I have issues".

The area was lush and vibrant with color and she took a moment to appreciate the beauty of her surroundings. Butterflies flittered all about her, and somewhere in the distance the sound of bird song wafted through the air.

She had hated the outdoors as a child, and though still not one for camping Amelia had developed an appreciation for the grandeur of nature as an adult.

Still, she sensed that she needed to hurry. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but her brother was hiding from Leoffa for a reason.

Moving into a copse of trees she paused, peering around. Had she heard something? The agent lingered, hoping to detect some signs of movement, but save for the occasional bird call or the crinkle of leaves on the wind, nothing seemed outof the ordinary. She continued on, but when she’d taken maybe a dozen steps, an old oak doorway appeared in her path and the sorceress rushed out, amethyst staff radiating light.

"Leoffa," Amelia spoke a small thread of tension in her voice hoping that the woman would reveal herself, but she only smiled.

"What do you want with my brother?" Amelia demanded, but the other woman only laughed.

"ANSWER ME!" Amy screamed out.

A tight smile touched Leoffa’s lips, but she did not respond. Instead she raised her staff. Wicked emerald energy lanced out, and Amy brought her hands up forming a protective barrier with her mind. Brilliant illumination filled her vision, followed by a sensation of falling.

When the light cleared Amelia stood within a schoolyard encircled by a ring of children. This time, she barely glanced down at herself, but she noted she was even smaller than before.

Just like that, Brian was standing before her, he looked only about a year younger than the last time. He brought his finger up to his lips, but Amelia snatched a hand out and gripped his arm.

"For God’s sake Brian!" Amy scowled. "Tell me what’s going on!"

Brian blinked, but didn’t move or speak. Then, his head jerked sideways and his eyes widened. "She comes."

One child drew closer fists balled at her side, a dozen more followed in her wake. It was Isabel Wilson, a cruel-tempered girl who had taken a liking to torturing the two Van den Broeke siblings. She was taller than most of the males in their class until puberty hit. She went from a plain Jane who bullied half of the children in the school to the object of every boy’s desires. It had always struck Amy as an odd turnaround, but one which Isabel quickly adapted to. She used her looks to manipulate others to get what she wanted and she did it well.

The Isabel that stood before them, had not yet been visited by the puberty fairy and she looked every bit as mean as Amelia remembered. Her old bully did not say a word, instead she rounded on the elder sibling and sucker punched her in the gut. Amy doubled over, gasping for breath and she felt a set of arms around her. She looked up, peering into her younger brother’s eyes. Anger burned in them, a wild untamed blaze.

"Leave Andy alone!" He screamed out as Isabel grabbed Amy by the back of her hair and grinned down at her eyes alight with malicious glee.

Isabel’s fist came down and Brian lurched forward attempting to break the bully’s hold, but she elbowed him in the ribs and the blow struck home.

Amelia fell onto her back, and Isabel lost her grip. The agent rolled away, and sprang to her feet, fists raised to counter, but before she could manage it, dozens of high-pitched shrieks of rage sounded from all around the playground. A throng of children surged forward and both brother and sister were buried under a writhing mass of bodies.

Pummeled by dozens of tiny fists, Amelia attempted to break free, but there were just too many of them. She curled up into a ball and gritted her teeth screaming out in rage and agony. She had almost given up hope when realization set in.

"This isn’t real," Amy whispered eyes flying back open.

"This isn’t real!" She repeated, emitting a high-pitched shriek. She was a powerful exemplar it was about time she started acting like one. What more this was the domain of the mind, a place in which her powers were uniquely qualified to give her the upper hand.

She threw her hands out, tunneling them through the mass of tangled limbs and steadied her breath. Power crackled at her fingertips and a wave rippled out, sending their attacker’s bodies flying in every direction, sparing only herself and Brian.

Amelia’s form rose into the air and she peered down at her slight frame. She didn’t look particularly intimidating in her current form, but that was about to change.

The agent shook her head, long black tresses cascaded from her scalp and her body exploded upward and outward, breasts and posterior ballooning out into her more familiar feminine proportions. She barely paid it any mind, but focused her attention on a familiar form approaching from out of an oak doorway perhaps a dozen yards away.

Leoffa moved through the playground, paying no need to the bodies scattered about the blacktop.

"Brian." Amelia’s eyes darted to her brother cowered on the ground in a fetal position. "This is your mind, she can only hurt you if you let her. I don’t know what she’s done to you, but you’ll never be free if you keep running."

"It’s pointless agent," the sorceress said slamming her staff down into the ground. Shards of concrete shot out spraying Amelia and her brother in their faces. "It’s all he knows now"

"I’m here now." Amelia floated forward, imposing herself between the sorceress and her sibling and clenched both of her fists.

"If you want him, you’ll have to go through me," Amelia said again raw power radiating out from her, arching into a barrier around the siblings.

A slow smile crept onto Leoffa’s face and a throaty chuckle escaped her lips. "That’s what I was hoping you’d say."

Official Report
3412 Abby Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

The sorceress’s staff glowed a brilliant florescent violet, and a great lightning bolt thundered into the agent’s shield.

Power crackled, sizzling against Amy’s barrier, and she set her jaw, grunting against the strain. Light cascaded all around her, pulsating and throbbing into her shield. The agent let out a piercing scream. Tears streaked her face and Amelia looked away, the illumination growing too intense.

‘You are not alone,’ A voice whispered in Amelia’s ear. ‘You have the power to defeat her. Like me, she is but a shadow, an imprint of her true self. Your cause is just, your will is righteous, yours is the greater power.’

"Ashtar," Amelia whispered the name, heart pounding in her chest. She squared her jaw and swung back to the sorceress.

The light, like everything else, was an illusion. It could only blind her if she let it. She blinked and the illumination dulled to a soft glow.

A smile touched the agent’s lips, and she pushed out, hands joined. Her shield burst out, and a sweeping wall of energy cascaded across the pavement and struck the sorceress.

Leoffa crossed both arms over her face, staff, held in the crook of her arms, glowing a brilliant violet, as the attack swept over her. Her feet slid across the blacktop and her hair whipped back behind her shoulders, but she planted the weapon in the asphalt and anchored herself in place.

Before her first attack had abated, brilliant white bolts of energy burst out from the Agent’s hands. Leoffa howled, raised her staff, sending out her own blasts of power rushing to meet them. The projectile lights slammed into each other with a powerful concussive detonation that rippled out in every direction.

Energy fizzled through the air, searing into the forms of the fallen children, and each dissolved into nothingness with a loud agonizing shriek. Amelia winced, but blocked the images out of her mind, reminding herself that they were just illusions.

She risked sneaking a glance back at her brother. He was watching the entire confrontation, his child’s eyes wide and face expressionless.

‘Come on, Brian.’ She thought, willing him to do something, anything to help himself, but he didn’t even so much as bat an eyelash.

Amelia peered back in time to catch the sorceress sending another blast whizzing out from her staff, but Amelia grabbed it out of the air and tossed it over her shoulder.

"You’re going to have to do better than that." The agent moved forward, stepping through the children’s ashes.

Leoffa smiled, a spark of malicious glee alight in her eyes. "Oh, I’m just getting warmed up."

Amelia dropped her fists, both of them coming alight with a brilliant white luminescence. "Bring it, bitch."

Leoffa brought her staff up, slamming it into the blacktop with so much force cracks appeared, stretching in ever lengthening lines. The ground rumbled and Amelia hurtled forward, flying toward her opponent, but a shape rose from asphalt hurtling toward her, forcing the agent to dive away.

An arm protruded from the ground, formed of concrete and stone, its fingers curled into a fist and pounded into the ground in the agent’s wake. Heedless of the danger, Brian’s child form stared into space, wide-eyed and unmoving. Amelia dove toward him, throwing up a shield around them both when she was close enough.

A massive fist came down on the barrier, and Amelia clutched her brother tight, gritting her teeth against the pressure. "Brian, please," she pleaded. "This will never end if you don’t help yourself."

He did not reply, and Amy spun back around as the fist again impacted her shield. She spread her hands. A wave of force rippled out and sent the giant hand careening away. She hurled bolts of energy after it, blasting away at it, marring its surface with cracks and fissures.

Thunder crackled in the sky above and Amy glanced up just as a bolt of lightning crashed into her protective barrier. Blinding bright light filled her vision, and her shield shattered, the resulting concussive shock wave sent her soaring away. She blinked away the light, as she had the last time, but by then it was already too late. The giant fist hurtled into her and she tumbled to the ground, collapsing in a heap of broken bones, mangled flesh and shards of asphalt and rock.

Time slowed, and though the agent tasted blood in her mouth, she forced herself to move. She told herself that it was all an illusion, a trick of the mind, but it did nothing to lessen her pain or mend her broken body. She pushed herself up, shrieking in agony and groaning in pain with each movement, but somehow she climbed back to her feet.

Leoffa was waiting.

The sorceress lifted her foci. A gust of wind blasted into the agent. Amy brought her arm’s up to ward off the attack, but she didn’t act soon enough. The blast of air caught the Agent square in the chest and sent her hurdling over the ground and into the brick wall of the school building.

Light shot out from Leoffa’s staff and fragments of the blacktop rose and shot toward the agent, molding and shaping around her torso, arms and legs. Amy clenched her teeth, bursts of energy sizzling out from her fists, but each attempt to blast away the asphalt only proved more futile than the last. Every clump she sent hurtling away was replaced by two more. Before long, her body was covered.

"Well, I was hoping for more of a fight," Leoffa’s lithe form stepped forward. "But I suppose it doesn’t matter. In the end, victory was all but assured."

The sorceress hoisted her staff, and light pulsated from within the gem. She tipped it forward, and a beam shot out, and blasted into Amelia with brilliant violet intensity.

Time slowed to a crawl, and a piercing cry rang out. Amy’s head throbbed, and she felt a heaviness fall over her eyelids. She struggled to fight it, but it felt so… wonderful. She could just let everything go and all her worries, all her troubles would just float away. The purple luminescence burned even brighter and her eyelids drooped closed. A plaintive sigh escaped her lips. Sleep, she needed to sleep.

"Let her go!" A voice called out and Amelia’s eyes snapped back open.

Brian stood facing the sorceress, fists clenched at his side, jaw set and the fire of defiance burning in his eyes. He no longer wore a child’s face or body, but his adult frame.

"Well." Leoffa’s face stretched into a grin. "Look who’s come out to play, at last."

The beam of light redirected, slamming into Brian, its energy crackling and growing more intense. The younger Van den Broeke, crossed his arms across his face as if to shield himself and by some miracle, it seemed to work. A shimmering dome of energy surrounded him and the light slammed into the surface with a massive burst of illumination.

"Of course," Amelia whispered, realization dawning on her. This was Brian’s mind, whether he had powers in the actual world was immaterial. The only limits here were those he placed upon himself. Amelia realized the same held true for herself.

A Telekinetic wave surged out from the agent, the asphalt which encased her limbs and body shattered to dust raining down on the pavement below. She hovered in the air for a second, then she dove feet first, soaring toward the sorceress who had all her attention focused on her younger sibling.

At the last minute, Leoffa spun around, but not in time to defend herself. Amelia’s attack struck her opponent and sent her reeling away. The sorceress planted her staff and righted herself, sending a blast of sizzling energy at brother and sister, but Amy batted the bolt of power away and Brian’s shield absorbed it with barely any effort.

Amelia threw her hands out and Leoffa’s slender frame shot into the air, her staff falling from stiff fingers, and clattered into the pavement with a dull thud. Brother and sister met one another’s gazes, Brian nodded and Amy pulled her arms back, before throwing them out again. The sorceress rocketed toward the oak doorway, her arms windmilling through the empty air.

She shot through the opening, but she whipped a hand out, grasping hold of the wood with such ferocity her fingernails scratched the varnish. Leoffa gritted her teeth and threw her second arm out, leveraging herself enough that she had begun to pull herself free.

For a moment it seemed as if she might make it, but then Brian stepped forward, threw his palms out and Leoffa hurtled back into the opening. The door slammed shut, and her shrieks of rage could be heard muffled through the door. It rattled as if struck by a pair of massive fists, but remained closed.

A heavy chain and padlock appeared in Brian’s hands. He hurled them across the playground and the chain struck, wrapping around the doorway three times before the padlock closed with an audible clack.

Brian turned back to Amelia, threw his arms around his elder sibling and wept. The playground faded into darkness and the next thing Amelia knew they were back in the real world, Brian’s arms around her, openly weeping. Tears of her own stained her cheeks and she clung to him tight. At last, she had her brother back.

Official Report
3412 Abby Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"God, just look at you, Andy!" Brian stared at his elder sibling, eyes wide with apparent shock, his cheeks still glistening with tears and a slight quiver in his voice. "You’re so…. feminine."

Amy batted a stray bit of hair away from her face, regarded her brother between pursed lips. "Please don’t call me that, it’s Amelia now."

"Right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m sorry, I always figured you must have transitioned, but I mean seeing you like this is another thing entirely."

Amelia bit her lip and forced a smile on her face. "Just stick with the right name and pronouns and we’ll be fine."

"Of course." Brian nodded, and pulled away, eyes taking in his surroundings for the first time, eyes somehow growing wider when he took in Serena still standing nearby. "Wh-where are we?"

"Somewhere safe," Amy answered, rising to her feet.

Serena rushed forward, enfolding her eldest son in her arms. Brian stiffened, but soon returned the gesture. When mother and son broke away, Brian slipped from the side of the bed. He wobbled on his feet, but braced himself on the nightstand to the right of the bedside.

Serena wrapped her hands around his shoulder to provide support. "Your muscles may have atrophied, maybe you should lay back down."

Brian clenched his jaw and shook his head. His eyelids slid closed and he took a deep breath. It was almost as if someone flicked a switch. His back straightened and he stood, frame rigid. When his eyes opened again, he released the air from his lungs and stepped forward. He moved with no sign of frailty or the least bit of trouble.

"What? You don’t think Amelia’s the only exemplar in the family, do you?" He asked, gazing about the room, taking in the shocked expressions of his sibling and mother. His eyes briefly scanned over the sleeping form of Kruhl, but he only pressed his lips together and sighed.

Amelia furrowed her brows and folded her arms over her chest. "Ashley, the person who found you, said she tracked you down through the AEGIS database. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s Psionic Strength?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "That’s what the representative from AEGIS figured too."

"Psionic strength?" Serena arched an eyebrow. "That’s not an ability I’ve ever heard of."

"You’ve heard of telekinesis, right?" Amelia asked. "That’s more or less what it is, Brian’s just using it to strengthen himself."

"Except, that seems to be all I can do," he pursed his lips and frowned. "I mean I tried the other stuff, but it just doesn’t come."

"What about you? Last time I checked your retrocognizance doesn’t let you enter people’s minds." His gaze fixed on the agent, a frown creasing his mouth.

"I was exposed to something," she said, meeting her brother’s gaze. "It happens sometimes to AEGIS personnel."

"So you’ve got freaky mind powers now and you work for AEGIS?" He asked eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

"Yes, to both, but it’s not just mind reading. I’m faster, stronger, I can levitate things, and before Ashley found me I’d just gotten done healing a gaping stab wound in our friend’s abdomen." She nodded toward Kruhl without actually looking at her.

"Holy shit," Brian blinked. "Sounds like you—"

Brian jumped, craning his neck around to glance across the room. Amelia followed his gaze and locked gazes with Kruhl. The once-king was sitting up and had slipped her feet over the bedside. Her sleepy gaze took in her surroundings with a dull, dispassionate stare. She glanced down at her abdomen, then back up at the agent and pressed her lips together in a tight frown.

"How?" She asked, peering back down at her uninjured belly, fingers tracing over the fabric of her oversized nightgown.

"It’s a long story," Amy glanced around and shook her head. "I think it’s time we all sat down and had a long chat."

"Well," Ashley said, slipping into the living room with a lengthy sigh. "I have contacted AEGIS, they’re mobilizing a unit out of Salt Lake and they should be here within five hours."

Amy nodded, but didn’t say a word. Instead, she clasped both hands and closed her eyes. Salt Lake was a good two and half hour drive from Tondzaosha, five hours was more than reasonable considering the preparations they would need to make. In fact, it was much sooner than she’d expected.

"Thank God," Amy said and leaned back into the sofa before glancing back at her younger sibling. Brian, though he pretended otherwise, was still very weak, he’d scarfed down the turkey sandwich and tater bites their mother had prepared for them and kept sneaking cursory glances at Amy’s half-finished sandwich.

Both Amelia and Serena attempted to usher him back to bed, but he’d outright refused. With his abilities, there wasn’t much they could do to keep him in bed without calling upon her own considerable powers.

Amelia sighed and grabbed the plate and set it down on the coffee table between them. "Here, have at it."

Brian barely blinked before snatching up the sandwich and crammed half of it into his mouth.

"I would have made you another sandwich, Brian." Serena swooped in to retrieve the now empty plate.

Brian shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his features. "Eh, why waste good food?"

Serena rolled her eyes and slipped out of the room, only to return a moment later standing in the doorway.

"Ugh, so," Brian asked. "AEGIS, huh? I guess they pay pretty good money."

Amy smiled and nodded. "I do all right for myself. It helps to be the youngest Special Agent in Charge in AEGIS history."

He met her gaze, but didn’t answer. His mouth parted as if to speak, but he soon clenched his mouth shut again.

Amy pursed her lips, but didn’t press him. She knew her brother was having a hard time knowing what to say. Hell, she was pretty much in the same boat. After they’d had their little powwow about Leoffa things had gotten a fair bit more awkward.

"I’m sorry," she said at last.

"For what?" He blinked.

"Leoffa went after you because of me, if I hadn’t—"

"Hey, no, no, no," he rose to his feet, nearly tipping over before he lurched forward and slipped onto the couch beside her. "People do nasty shit all the time, what Leoffa did to me is on her and only her. Don’t go blaming yourself."

Amy ground her teeth. "I should have been there, Brian. I always assumed it was better if I put my past behind me, but if I’d kept in contact, she wouldn’t have been able to pull one over on me or at the very least I would have gotten to you sooner."

"It’s possible," he agreed. "But you had no way of knowing what would happen."

"Don’t you think you’re being hard on yourself, Amy?" Ashley asked, seating herself on the opposite her friend. "What that woman did to your brother was terrible, but you can’t blame yourself.

"We need to figure out our next move. She gave you twenty-four hours to get out of town. She must have something big planned."

Amy glanced at her brother, brows furrowed in concentration. She worried for him. She wasn’t sure they had expelled the shadow of Leoffa from his mind, and he had no recollection of ever being captured by the sorceress. Even his memories of what she did to him, while within his mind, were fuzzy.

"I have a theory," the agent said after several long moments of reflection. "I think Odalrik wanted me for a reason. It’s possible she was after my retrocognizance. I had the sense that she was looking for something and if Leoffa has it…"

"Okay, say you’re right. What would she have been looking for that would be so important?" Ashley asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I could think of one thing," Kruhl said from the corner, her yellow cat’s eyes gleaming in the darkness. "It would explain almost everything."

"Before Reesha banished Odalrik, he was rumored to possess a gemstone imbued with incredible power, called the Crystal of Ban-Sher’i. I ordered his keep searched after we defeated him, but none of my people could ever find it. If he had it on his person when he came to this world, it’s possible Leoffa stole it from him. Only a magic-wielder with a powerful foci like a staff could make use of it. If Leoffa possessed it, and she had no staff with which to wield it…"

"Perhaps she could not use it," Amelia nodded, a few more puzzle pieces clicking into place. The staff Leoffa had wielded within Brian’s mind had been no more real than the sorceress herself. The only time Amelia had seen her with an actual staff was after she had defeated Odalrik. It was very possible she had not possessed one until then.

"Is there any reason you didn’t mention this until now?"

Kruhl shrugged. "I never believed it existed."

"And if it exists?" Serena asked from the doorway. "How dangerous is it?"

Kruhl’s lips curled into a sneer. "All I know is that Odalrik was said to fear its power."

"Oh, hell, I do not like the sound of that at all," Ashley said with a drawn-out groan. "So Leoffa may or may not have this magical crystal, and nobody knows what the goddamned thing can do. How does this help us?" Ashley eyed the siblings and then Kruhl.

Amelia leaned back in her seat, hands running through her long locks. "It doesn’t… at least not yet."

Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Kruhl glanced down at herself and swallowed. For the first time since her transformation, she wore clothes that fit, but she wouldn’t say she liked them. They displayed her body in ways that made her cheeks feel as if they were aflame.

She tugged at the thick fabric which hugged her breasts and sank her teeth into her lower lip. The short sleeveless tunic, Serena had called a vest, was a soft shade of pink, and made of a material that might have been some kind of leather.

Six metal-lined holes, called grommets, adorned the front, and a string made of the same fabric as the tunic was woven through them. It ended about two-thirds of the way down the front of the garment, leaving a fair bit of her abdomen exposed. The bottom of the vest ended just above her navel.

Her black belt, thicker but of the same material as the vest, sported an over-sized metal buckle, fastened through a double set of metal eyelets. Though the former warrior king could not fathom why, the grommets ringed the entire length of the belt.

The tight-fitting ‘jeans’ were almost as bad as the vest. Overall, Kruhl did not find them too cumbersome for day to day use, but they would limit her range of motion in combat. Gaping tears exposed the flesh around both of her knees and portions of her upper legs. She had supposed the garment was damaged when Serena had first handed it over to her, but much to her consternation, the Van den Broeke matriarch revealed that it was, in fact, intended to be that way.

She wore black boots which came up to her mid-calf. They sported several buckles with no discernible purpose. She scowled and peered down her shirt, though her chest was now enshrouded in what she now knew was called a brassiere, the undergarment was visible even from her vantage point and she could see the crack between her breasts protruding beneath the vest.

She felt ridiculous, but as she peered down at her form, she realized that there was a certain visual appeal to her ensemble. She swallowed and turned away, shaking her head and growling under her breath. You are Kruhl, Son of Wurdan, she reminded herself, you will not succumb to the allure of this flesh. You are not some simpering doe-eyed human girl, you are a warrior of great renown.

Though she moved towards the door with quick steps, both fists clenched at her side, she experienced an unexpected pang of regret just before slipping out of the room.

Agent van den Broeke found her in the hallway just a moment later. The taller woman flattened her lips and folded her arms over her breasts. "We need to talk."

Kruhl nodded, regarding Amy with gleaming cat’s eyes. "Yes, we do."

Amelia held her hand out, directing the shorter woman toward the room she’d just vacated. Kruhl released a weary sigh and spun around on the balls of her feet, before popping the door back open and stepping inside. The agent followed her in and closed it behind her.

Kruhl studied the eldest Van den Broeke sibling for several long moments, before slipping atop a bed. When she was seated, she turned her eyes on Amelia once more. The agent did not take a seat, instead she kept her arms tucked over her chest and regarded the once-king between narrowed eyes.

"Listen Kruhl, I don’t know exactly how to say this, but while I realize you have a bigger stake than any of us in this, I think maybe it would be best if you sat this one out."

Kruhl blinked, but did not speak. Instead, she rocked her head back and forth, a scowl creasing her delicate features. When at last she spoke, it was in a quiet, halting tone. "That would seem the wisest course of action."

Her stomach lurched and the tiny woman cupped her face with both hands, tears streaking her face. She was pathetic, a sad shell of her former self. She was weak and entirely useless on the battlefield. Her father would weep to see his son in such a state. Still, despite everything, she had assumed she would fight alongside the agent when they at last faced off against Leoffa. It seemed… wrong.

She glanced up at the agent, eyes burning with fire even as tears soaked her cheeks. "No! I must be there, I must see this through to the end. I would never be able to live with myself, if I did not."

"Look, I understand, but—"

"But Nothing!" Kruhl howled, leaping to her feet. "You do not understand! With Leoffa at her full might, she may very well be as powerful as Odalrik and even were she not, she has both the power of the crystal and Waldere at her disposal. With them she is far more dangerous."

Amy regarded the other woman, hands on her hips in a severe, almost chastising posture. "I don’t really understand what you think you can—"

"There is still a chance that I can win back the loyalty of the sword." Kruhl locked gazes with her. "It has the power to dispel most forms of magic, it may mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"Okay," Amelia said, leaning back against the wall. "There’s nothing to stop anyone else from trying, is there?"

"No," Kruhl admitted. "But the sword knows me, I may still hold some sway over it. It gives me a better chance than most."

"You speak about that thing as if it were a conscious, reasoning being," Amy said, her voice taking on a musing, almost sing-song quality.

"It does not think." Kruhl shook her head. "Not in any way I have ever been able to determine. It’s magic resonates with those who wield it. It’s capable of distinguishing the traits for which its creator’s sought for those who would come to wield it, nothing more."

"You realize what you’re asking me, right? If you fail, you will become a liability. We can’t afford for Leoffa to take advantage of that."

"I know," Kruhl spoke, her words intersected by a sob. "But you cannot ask me to sit idly by. Leoffa, is a monster, at least, partially of my making, I cannot allow her to wreak havoc upon this world without at least trying to stop her."

Amy nodded and released a long sigh. "Okay, good enough. Be ready, the team from Salt Lake will be here soon."

The agent turned to leave and Kruhl threw a hand out, rushing after her. "Wait!"

Amy spun back around and pressed her lips together, but Kruhl spoke before she could say anything.

"I asked you a few days ago, if you would give me a new name. Have you pondered upon it?"

Amy sighed and licked her lips. "With everything that has happened, I haven’t really given it a lot of thought, but one stuck out. Alexandra, it’s the feminine form of Alexander, one of our history’s greatest conquerors."

"Alexandra," the tiny blond repeated the moniker. "It sounds like the name of a warrior. Thank you, it will suffice."

Amy placed a hand on either of the second woman’s slender shoulders. "If we come out of this alive, we’ll see about assigning you a transition specialist. I won’t lie to you, adapting to life here, will not be a walk in the park, but AEGIS has some experience helping people adapt to transformed bodies. We’ll help you in whatever way we can."

Alexandra quivered, craning her neck down to peer at one of the agent’s hands, before peering back up to meet the agent’s gaze. "Is it not your people’s custom to have multiple names?"

Amy nodded. "There’s an entire process involved in creating a new identity. There are a whole slew of records that AEGIS will have to fabricate across a number of government agencies. Not to mention all the paperwork involved. It’s a complicated process. Let’s just focus on what’s ahead of us and we’ll figure everything out later."

"Very well," Alexandra nodded and bit her lip.

The once-king believed her when she claimed it was complicated, if for no other reason than she’d understood almost nothing of what she said. The agent smiled, released the other woman’s shoulders and shuffled toward the door. "I know it’s been difficult, but I understand what it’s like living life in the wrong body, I’m always happy to talk if you want a sympathetic shoulder to cry on."

She exited the room and Alexandra cocked her head and wondered, how could a shoulder be sympathetic?

Official Report
An Empty Lot
Tondzaosha, Idaho Idaho

Amelia clenched her jaw, released a long breath through her teeth and forced her eyelids back open. She hovered amongst the clouds, dangling so far up in the open air that if she were to fall, she would die on impact. God, it was unsettling. How did Sapphira do it?

She peered around, taking in Tondzaosha arrayed below her in miniature. Tiny vehicles roved the streets and figures, each appearing no taller than a centimeter, moved about the sidewalk.

Amelia sank her teeth into her lower lip and felt her whole body tremble. A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature wriggled down her spine and she pushed herself to continue her search. Instead of looking with her eyes, she clenched them shut and reached out with her mind. Dozens of sights, sounds, and impressions assaulted her senses.

‘God, why couldn’t I have a body like that?’ The thought came to her mind unbidden, and the agent furrowed her brows before realizing that it hadn’t come from her.

It had come from a girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, seething with envy and a raw burning hatred, her attention focused on another young woman, the same age, who was receiving a fair amount of attention from a rather rakish young man. Amy shook her head, forcing the girl’s tide of emotions out of her mind and swept her senses out.

A choir of voices rang through her consciousness and she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to wade through them rather than focus on any one of them. Despite her best efforts, she caught snippets of thoughts, here or there. Most were mundane, a file clerk reviewing her workload for the day, a delivery driver scanning his route for a place to stop and eat, and even a young boy struggling to decide which type of candy bar he would purchase at a local grocery store. All those voices swept through her and around her, and she continued her search.

Then one rang out louder than the rest. "Oh god!" It came out as a cry of pain so bright, so intense it was almost palatable. "How am I supposed to tell mom and dad I’m trans?"

Amy stopped, a sob escaping her lips as years of remembered dysphoria came rushing back upon her. An image of a teen’s face reflected in a mirror, hand sliding over stubble as a plaintive sign escaped the kid’s lips.

Hair, oh God, the hair!

Though the child’s face looked calm, the mass of disgust and revulsion mirrored in her eyes and boiling just under the surface told another story.

Amy’s hands cupped her own face as if to reassure herself that she was not looking upon her own reflection. She forced herself to concentrate. She couldn’t afford to get distracted, but she stopped long enough to reach out to the child.

"You’re not alone," she whispered, watching the kid’s reflected eyes grow wide.

Amy’s lips trembled, and she let out sob before turning away and breaking her connection with the young trans girl. She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together before again extending her mind out. This time, she narrowed her focus and avoided touching any minds. Instead, she brushed passed them, only getting a cursory impression before moving on.

At last she found it, her face stretched out in a frown, released half a dozen of her most choice curses and burst forward, zooming through the air at breakneck speed.

Supervisory Special Agent Nathaniel Fredericks climbed out of the Durant Lucerna, only casting the vehicle a cursory glance before slamming the driver’s side door shut. Two more dull thuds sounded after, but he paid them no mind. Instead, his eyes surveilled his surroundings, scanning the buildings with a dull, dispassionate gaze.

Cheap, synthetic-leather shoes crunched on the gravel of the empty lot as his subordinates approached from either side.

"Fucking nowheresville. What the hell do you think we’re doing here, Grimes?"

Fredericks turned to eye the speaker, Special Agent Frank Harrelson, a young man with a name that evoked images of a hardened veteran on the cusp of retirement, but who was a rookie in every sense of the word. Frederick’s hand snaked up to adjust his tie, but he remained silent, cool gaze regarding the second man, Robert Grimes, a seasoned agent, with a thoughtful expression marking his face.

"Hell if I know Harrison. We’ll get our orders soon enough." Grimes muttered, eyes darting toward Fredericks with an inquisitive expression.

Fredericks at last opened his mouth to speak, but you uttered even one syllable. A bright scarlet blur slammed into the Earth less than four feet away. He brought one arm up to shield his face and slipped the other inside his suit jacket to retrieve his firearm, but the cloud of dirt that arose burned his eyes. He peered out through the haze of dust, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Gunfire rang out, but it had not been Fredericks who’d opened fire.

"Oh hell," a gravelly baritone voice said. "Would you cut that out?"

A clank of steel sounded from nearby and a single gunshot rang out, followed by a shriek of pain from Harrison. Nate blinked and swirled around, at last getting a clear picture of their assailant. He took a step as the armored figure’s head swiveled around to match his gaze.

"Easy there." The figure let out a low growl, its eye sockets blazing scarlet-red as its gaze tilted down to peer at the gun in his hands. "I’m not your enemy. I’m your contact, dude."

Fredericks raised an eyebrow, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. Dude?

"Ashley Harris?" He asked, lowering his gun. He knew of her armor, but hadn’t expected something that looked like it had crawled its way out of the deepest infernos of hell.
A series of mechanical whirs and snap hisses sounded from the suit as the face plate, chest and groin areas all retracted. A girl, shorter than the towering form of the suit which she wore, emerged climbing out from within the contraption and landed with a soft grunt and a crunch of gravel. Though the Agent had read her file, the photo hadn’t done her justice. When Fredericks laid eyes on her, he sucked his breath in and swallowed hard. She pursed a set of pouty lips and ran a hand through her shock of blond hair.

He cleared his throat, reminding himself he was a married man, and regarded the girl with what he hoped was a close approximation of cool disinterest.

"Sorry, if I startled you." She sucked air in threw a thumb over her shoulder. "Still getting used to that thing."

"Nabu," she craned her head over her should. "Why don’t you—"

She never finished her sentence, instead her eyes fixed on a black and gray streak that came tearing down from the sky above. It impacted the ground, about ten feet away. Fredericks and his companions had their weapons out and trained on the spot, but when the dust cleared, Amelia stood eyes wild, and jaw set in a scowl. The agents exchanged glances, but didn’t lower their weapons.

"We have a problem." Amy stood, both fists at her side, panting for breath.

Official Report
An Empty Lot
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Amelia?" Fredericks licked his lips, regarding the newcomer with narrowed eyes.

"Nathaniel." Amelia lifted an open palm, fingers spread out in a warding gesture. "It’s been a while."

Fredericks regarded the superior agent, training his weapon on her head as he spoke.

"The Amelia van den Broeke I knew couldn’t fly," he said, pausing to take in her appearance and let loose a long breath of air. "Nor was she quite so… attractive."

"Strange things sometimes happen in the field, you know that Fredericks. Put that thing away, that’s an order," she countered, meeting his gaze with a scowl. She glanced at the other two agents, but didn’t speak another word.

"Oh, for hell sa—" Ashley moved to put herself between them, but Amelia waved her off.

"I’m going to need some kind of verification." Frederick’s eyes never left Amelia.

"You’re a single father of three, you were married for almost ten years when your wife passed away from breast cancer. You’re an avid birdwatcher, you collect stamps and your favorite television show is Wormhole Xtreme."

"All information that can be found online. I need something a little more concrete." Fredericks lowered his weapon, but didn’t holster it and snaked his fingers up to adjust his tie.

Amy arched an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes. "You once told me in confidence that you suspected that someone had broken a stick off in Deputy Assistant Director Steenburg’s a—"

Fredericks cleared his throat, held a hand out and slipped his weapon back into its holster. "All right, all right I believe you."

"God, Amelia, look at you. Can you blame me for being suspicious? How the hell did it happen?"

"That would be need to know, Fredericks." She regarded him, an apologetic frown creasing her lips. "Let’s just say I crossed paths with someone who’s not exactly from our neck of the woods."

Fredericks eyebrows shot up, but he only nodded and glanced back over his shoulder and jerked his head at each of his companions. "This is Harrison and Grimes."

"Harrison, Grimes, this is Special Agent in Charge Amelia van den Broeke, we served together in New Hebron."

Amelia nodded, regarding both men before returning her attention to Fredericks. "Three agents? We have a foothold situation and AEGIS only sends three agents?"

"There are more, the strike team is securing the local police station." Fredericks replied.

"Right." Amelia nodded. "In that case we should get moving."

"Why, what’s going on?" Fredericks asked, stepping toward the agent.

"There’s an energy field surrounding a pocket of trees near the Cherry Springs Nature Trail, and it’s expanding."

"Energy field? What kind of energy field?" Ashley asked, lurching back into sight.

"No idea, but whatever it is, it can’t be good. Whatever Leoffa’s up to, I think it’s clear we need to put a stop to it."

"Well." Fredericks eyes flicked between the duo of agents at his side. "When do we get under way?"

Alexandra snatched her hand up, again adjusting the strange dark spectacles which Agent van den Broeke had instructed her to wear. She crinkled her nose and slipped a finger under the bridge, joining the two lenses together, rubbing the flesh on the crest of her nose and gritted her teeth. Curse be to whatever madman had created such a strange contrivance!

She growled and dropped her hands, sensing that the two men, seated on either of her sides, had tensed. She peered up and found herself gazingf into a set of eyes. Her cheeks burned hot, but the former king only met the stranger’s gaze and clenched her jaw in challenge.

"Van den Broeke." Fredericks furrowed his brows and glared at her between pursed lips before turning back to eye Amelia seated in the passenger seat beside him. "Are you sure about this girl?"

"Fredericks," Amelia said, glancing at Alexandra before meeting the man’s gaze. "I don’t think you understand just how dire this situation is, we need her."

Fredericks eyed her, lips pressed together in a thin line before again peering back at Alexandra. "If you say so."

The once-king curled her lips and emitted a low rumbling growl, but did not speak. Amy twisted her neck around and issued a warning glance. The tiny woman sank her teeth into her lower lip, drawing blood, and silenced herself. She did not like the way the tall man looked at her, eyes cool and disinterested, as if he were looking right through her.

The car came to a stop and the pair of agents beside her exited the vehicle. Alexandra set her jaw, peered through the open door and released a long sigh. Her hands went to the seat belt, another irritating contrivance, and released it by pushing down on the orange indent. Another time or place, she might have marveled at the ingenuity of the device, all the while grumbling at having her movement constricted, but she paid it almost no mind.

As she climbed out of the car three more vehicles came screeching to a halt a short distance away. She only paid them a cursory glance, even as men and women, resplendent in full AEGIS tactical gear came pouring out from within each of the vans. Instead, she kept her eyes peeled on the pulsating dome of amethyst energy which sizzled and cackled in the open air before her. Only when Ashley arrived, slamming into the ground and producing a slight tremor did she pause, but even then it only held her attention for the barest of seconds.

She swallowed hard, and craned her neck back, peering up at the wall of power which stretched into the sky for thousands of feet. It circled a section of wilderness twice again as wide.

If she had any doubts that Leoffa possessed the crystal, they evaporated as she gazed upon the monolithic shield. No sorcerer or sorceress could conjure such a thing without joining forces with other magic users… or by making use of a powerful relic.

"Well shit," Fredericks voice wafted in from somewhere behind her, but she did not turn to meet his gaze.

There came a scuffle of movement just off to her side, and Alexandra watched Amelia approach out of the corner of her eye. The Special Agent in Charge didn’t speak, she merely peered up at the dome, both hands planted on her hips, lips creased in a thoughtful frown.

"Now," she spoke after several long moments of silence. "How the hell do we get inside?"

"We don’t," the once-king answered, sinking down to her knees, hot tears burning the corners of her eyes as they streaked down her cheeks.

"No, it wouldn’t be that—" Amelia stopped mid-sentence.

A portion of the barrier flickered and flashed, and Alexandra brought a hand up to shield her eyes. A segment of energy about six feet wide by eight feet tall, crackled and retracted into the surrounding portion of the energy field.

"Oh hell," Amelia cursed. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Heart hammering in her ears, Alexandra rose to her feet. She glanced at Van den Broeke before striding toward the new opening.

"Wait!" Fredericks called after her. "You’re not going in there, are you?"

The little woman peered over her shoulder at him and shook her head. "What other choice do we have?"

"Van den Broeke?" Fredericks asked.

"It’s gotta be a trap, but Alex is right, we don’t have any other choice."

Alexandra peered back at Amelia, frowned, and stepped into the opening.

Official Report
Cherry Springs Nature Trail
Tondzaosha, Idaho

"Dammit, I didn’t mean now," Amelia cursed, rushing after Alexandra as she moved through the opening.

Fredericks and Grimes came in on her heels and Harrison wasn’t far behind. Just before Van den Broeke made it through, the hole shimmered and retracted. Fredericks leapt through, barely clearing the much smaller opening.

Grimes wasn’t so lucky, the barrier closed around his leg, severing it just below the kneecap. The agent screamed, shrieking so loud that Amelia winced and grated her teeth. Blood splattered the ground on both sides and oozed down the wall which crackled and sizzled wherever the agent’s vital fluid touched.

He collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, moaning and clutching at his severed limb. Fredericks collapsed to his knees, hands grappling with his belt buckle.

"What are you doing?" Alexandra demanded, finger sliding under the nosepiece of her shades.

"I’m making a tourniquet. He’s going to bleed out and die if we don’t cut off the blood flow," Fredericks answered between gritted teeth, sliding his belt from the loops with a single sweeping flourish of his arm.

Alexandra watched him work for several long minutes, her face an expressionless mask before she turned to Amy, a frown creasing her lips. "This is what Leoffa wanted, to isolate us and cut us off."

"Why?" Amy asked, eyes never once leaving Fredericks and Grimes.

The tiny woman shook her head and frowned. "I don’t know, but if she’s confident enough to allow us in, it’s likely she doesn’t see us as a threat, or… she needs something from us."

"I do not like the sound of that." The agent winced and retrieved her gun from within her shoulder holster. She pulled the clip out, inspected it and slipped it back in place before peering back at the once-king.

To some carrying the weapon might seem pointless given the scope of her new abilities, but to the agent who was not yet confident with them, the familiarity of the weapon offered reassurance that she had yet to gain. At the very least, it could provide her with a backup should her powers fail her. She hadn’t toted it around all this time for nothing.

Fredericks glanced up at Amelia, Grime’s blood had stained his dress shirt and splattered his face, but with his suit coat acting as a bandage and his belt as a tourniquet the other agent stood a much better chance at surviving. "I can’t leave him like this. He’ll be an easy target to anyone who might come along."

"Dammit," Amelia cursed, slicking a hand through her mop of dark hair. "She wanted this and we walked right into her trap."

"What’s our move?" Fredericks asked, craning his neck up to peer at her.

Amelia planted her hands on her hips and peered out through the barrier where the remaining AEGIS personnel and Ashley in her god-awful suit of armor had congregated.

"Ashley," she spoke, but the suited figure remained motionless, peering into the glowing barrier.

"ASHLEY!" she repeated, cupping both hands around her mouth.

Ashley bit her lip and stepped forward, rapping her gauntleted fist against the sizzling wall. Nothing happened.

Amy clenched her jaw, threw her hands out, and extended her senses.

Before her the barrier was a shimmering luminescent wall of pulsating and thrumming power, but beyond it she sensed nothing. Brilliant explosions of energy exploded from her open palms, bursting with a brilliant flash of light each time one stuck the barrier, but her attacks only splashed against the surface.

Ashley opened fire from the other side, blasting the dome with a tiny canon that rose from the wrist of her gauntlet. A bright scarlet burst of light hit it, but that too proved futile. Several agents even pulled their weapons out and opened fire, but their bullets came ricocheting back toward them, forcing them to dive to the ground..

Well, shit.

Amy ground her teeth and fell to her knees at Fredericks side, glancing down at Grimes huddled on the ground taking short jagged breaths.

"I could heal him," Amy said, pressing her lips together in a thin line. "I doubt his leg would grow back, but at least the wound could heal over."

"Didn’t you say the last time you tried something like that, you passed out?" Fredericks said.

"No!" Grimes cried, grabbing Amelia by the arm. "You get that bitch."

Amy nodded and rose to her feet, balling both fists at her side. It looked like it was going to be up to her. She looked around for the once-king and found her a short distance away, staring at the barrier with wide-eyes. "You know any way of getting through that thing?"

Alexandra threw her head back and forth. "Perhaps, with Waldere I could do it, but…" she trailed off biting her lips.

"Then we find Leoffa, and we make that little bitch take it down." Amelia regarded her, fire smoldering in her eyes.

Alexandra nodded. "It won’t be easy."

"I wasn’t expecting it to be," Amelia said, peering down the nature trail which sprawled through the trees behind them. "It doesn’t look like we have much choice though, does it?"

A low growl rumbled from Ashley’s throat and through the voice modulator in her helmet it came out sounding like the shriek of something straight out of every child’s nightmares. She clenched her fists and pounded them against the barrier, but other than a tingle which ran through the armor and across her arms, nothing happened.

"Fuck," she cursed and spun away from the dome, staring back out toward the assembled AEGIS personnel. One man took a step back upon making eye contact with her, but she ignored him. As ineffective as her armor was against the shield, she doubted the others would be a lot of help.

She sighed, bowed her head and mumbled Nabu’s name. "Any ideas?"

"Indigo Knight once found success penetrating a force field by charging the exterior of his suit’s armor plating to match the energy signature of the shield. I can’t say whether it will work with a so-called magical barrier, but it might be worth a try."

"What about bringing some of our friend’s through," she asked, waving vaguely at the AEGIS strike team.

"That wouldn’t be advisable, unless you want to fry their flesh to a crisp," the AI answered, his voice dull and dispassionate, but somehow was filled with sarcasm.

"All right," Ashley replied, turned back to the shield and eyed it, both hands on either hip. "I don’t see that we have anything to lose. Let’s give it a shot."

"Oh yes, very good," Nabu replied. "Now you should feel a slight tingle…"

Ashley sucked air in, as stinging hot pin-pricks cascaded up and down her body. She gritted her teeth against the pain and shivered. The young woman reached a hand out and touched the shield, grunting as the sensation began rattling around inside her head. When she pushed, the barrier wouldn’t give. Forcing out short breaths, she tried to pull her hand back, but nothing happened.

"Fuck," she repeated her earlier curse. "This is just great."

Official Report
Cherry Springs Nature Trail
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Amelia crept forward, her bare feet sinking into the cold soil. She wriggled her toes and grimaced as several small clumps of dirt fell between her toes, but didn’t speak a word. One hand resting on her gun holster, she glanced back at Alexandra crouched just behind her.

Rather than take the trail, as Leoffa would expect, the once-king and the agent agreed that moving through the wilderness might at least give them a small measure of the element of surprise. To keep quiet, the pair had discarded their shoes and the tiny woman had shown Van den Broeke how to move through the brush heel to toe and to select her footing. Amelia’s mastery of the technique was far from perfect, but her companion had noted that it would suffice. Alexandra moved through the woods without even so much as a crinkle of a single leaf.

Amy swallowed, staring into the empty clearing before them. She could make out no movement save for the flicker of flame and billowing of smoke. A fire blazed in the center of the clearing, but one the like of which the agent had never seen. It burned with a brilliant violet iridescent intensity. A rod, ten feet tall, crowned with a gleaming crystalline gemstone was perched within its center.

Agent and former warrior-king met one another’s wide-eyed gazes, neither speaking but both certain they’d found that for which they were looking.

'The crystal?' Amy mouthed the words and arched an eyebrow.

The shorter woman pressed her lips into a thin line, regarded Amelia and shrugged. Amy stared into the other woman’s eyes for several protracted moments before shaking her head and inching forward. As she moved closer to the clearing, she put a hand up to shield her eyes against the glow of the strange fire.

She was less than four feet from the tree line when she spotted movement. A form, enshrouded in a dark robe, blond tresses billowing out from her hood, stood before the amethyst blaze, staff held before her, its gleaming gem shining with violet light, a mirror to that of the fire. Waldere dangled from her back, held there by an improvised scabbard of cloth and rope.

It seemed Leoffa had reverted to her prior form, the one which her shadow had worn during its assault of Brian’s mind.

Amy swallowed, peering back. Her eyes searching for Alexandra, but she caught no sight of the other woman. The agent cursed under her breath and scanned the immediate area. A slender figure, moved toward the unaware form of the sorceress.

Biting back a warning cry, Amelia tensed, squared her jaw and waited for the inevitable. Her eyes never left the once-king as the other woman inched forward. Mere seconds spanned an eternity, and the agent licked her lips, sweat beading down her forehead in rivulets.

Something was wrong… Amelia’s instincts were screaming at her she needed to take action. She opened her mouth to warn the smaller woman, but she was too slow. Alexandra threw out a hand, snatching at the sword, but her fingers passed into it as if moving through thin air and the sorceress’s dark form vanished.

"Shit," Amelia cursed, lurching forward after the once-king, but it was too late.

Alexandra’s slender form rose, hovering in the open for several long seconds, before shooting across the clearing and slamming into an ancient oak with a flat thump.

The true Leoffa appeared stepping out from a cluster of trees, gem-topped staff glowing a vibrant amethyst, a perfect match for the violet blaze burning less than a dozen feet away. Her eyes were ablaze with the promise of violence as she rushed toward the agent.

A rush of energy shot out from the length of wood, but the agent was already moving. She threw out both of her hands, and luminescent power cascaded from her open palms. The two blasts met exploding out with a flurry of sparks so brilliant it forced both opponents to clench their eyes shut and avert their gazes.

A soft crunch of leaves and foliage sounded from nearby and Amelia lurched aside before her vision had even cleared. She coughed, a wave of heat washing over her, and she breathed in a shower of dirt.

The agent threw her arms out, swinging blindly, and grunted, sucking in air threw her teeth when her elbow connected with soft flesh. There was a yelp of pain and Amy spun toward its source, a shimmering wall of energy forming in front of her in time to deflect a third burst of energy that cascaded toward her in a bright shower of sparks.

Blinking dirt from her eyes, Amy pulled back one hand and reciprocated, waves of telekinetic force rippling through the clearing before her. Though her vision was still blurry, the agent glimpsed the sorceress soaring away. She did not let up. Tree branches snapped, and foliage tumbled away, scattering in every direction.

Leoffa dove forward, staff rearing back, and slammed it into the ground, using it to anchor herself against the agent’s attack. A soft amethyst glow swept across her body, and she stood upright, a smile creeping across her face as she regarded her opponent. Force rippled out from her in the form of a great violet bubble that swept everything aside in its wake. This new onslaught forced aside dirt, grass, rocks and even uprooted trees.

Amy braced herself, power rippling at her fingertips, but when the rippling torrent struck, it impacted her shield and sent her hurtling away. Her barrier scattered, dissolving into nothing and the agent twirled in the air before hitting chest-first with a dull thud. Amelia gasped between gritted teeth, fighting to bring air into her burning lungs and throbbing chest.

"Such power!" The sorceress’s voice rang out, and Amelia gritted her teeth and rolled onto her side.

Leoffa hurtled toward her, stopped just a few feet away, and slammed the end of her staff into the agent’s chest. Amelia’s form flew back through the air, violent throbbing pain rippling through her body. She rolled to the ground, branches jabbing into her sides with a series of sharp stabs and loud thwacks.

"Too bad, you have no idea how to use it." Leoffa’s voice seethed with hatred as she raised her staff to strike again, but before she could attack there came a schwing of metal.

The sorceress spun around to face a slight figure. Alexandra, blood dripping down her scalp, had drawn Waldere from its sheath and was backing slowly away, eyes never once leaving her former lover. She had little in the way of upper body strength and she dipped the weapon down, dragging it as she inched away.

Leoffa’s lips twisted into a snarl and a pair of clawed hands came up, electrical energy sizzling out from her palms toward the once-king. Amy could do nothing to help her.

Official Report
Cherry Springs Nature Trail
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Alexandra tilted the sword straight up, hilt pointing skyward, and hunkered down, brandishing her weapon as if it were a shield. Raw power flew out from Leoffa’s fingertips and struck with a brilliant eruption of light. The former warrior king gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, summoning Waldere’s power.

Power crackled along the length of the sword as her attack struck. Waldere burning a brilliant bright white and the once-king released a breath she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding. The weapon had responded to her will.

Leoffa howled, lurching forward, and lunged at the sword, grappling each hand around either side of the crossguard.

"How are you still alive?" She demanded between gritted teeth, forcing the weapon into Alexandra’s chest. The former warrior king pushed back. Her tiny arms burned from the effort, and inch by inch she lost space to the other woman. Before long, the sorceress had forced her to the ground.

"At the very least you should be flat down in a hospital bed," the sorceress growled, her voice coming out in a shrieking howl so guttural it hardly sounded human.

Alexandra didn’t answer, instead she squirmed, attempting to worm her way out from beneath her former lover, but Leoffa planted her knee atop her chest and leaned in close.

"It’s just as well. The crystal requires a blood sacrifice to unleash it’s power. I had planned to kill my dear sister," a vicious snarl stretched across her face as she craned her neck around to glance at Amy, who was still struggling to return to her feet. The sorceress’s staff glowed and a ripple of power streaked out, slammed into the agent and sent her tumbling into the air again. "But what better payment than the blood of a warrior king fallen from grace?"

The once-king’s blood ran cold. That was why the sorceress had allowed them in. Alexandra licked her lips and glanced at the crystal. Before she could speak Leoffa sucker punched her in the mouth and left her seeing stars.

"Don’t worry, you’ll live just long enough to see exactly what the crystal does, but by then it will be too late."

"Really?"

A low rumbling growl sounded from the tree line and the sorceress’s head snapped around to face the newcomer, lips curling back to display her teeth.

"Ashley," Alexandra mouthed the name, eyes widening. The young woman’s armor looked as if it had been through a long campaign across the fiercest most war-torn of regions. It was dung up and dented in more places than she could count, and it seemed a small miracle that the slender blond was even able to move.

How the armor had undergone such radical damage in so short of a time the once-king couldn’t say, but her heart leapt into her throat at the mere site of her. Ashley held one gauntleted arm up. A long cylinder had extended from her wrist.

"You move and I fuck you up, bitch." The armored girl pronounced her augmented voice, all gravel and rage.

Leoffa froze, her face an empty mask as she regarded the newcomer for several long moments. No one spoke, and still she did not move. Then Amy rose. A soft groan escaped the agent’s mouth and the sorceress acted. She raised her staff, and a bright amethyst flash resonated from within the gem of her staff before she vanished.

"Dammit," Amy cursed. Though she was on her feet, she was hunched over and one hand rested on the small of her back as a snap and a pop sounded from her spine. She stood bolt upright, eyes wide, and called out.

"Ashley, the crystal!"

Ashley’s armored frame lurched forward, but before she’d made it halfway, a shrouded form appeared to interdict her. Leoffa’s staff swung out in an arc, and a wave of violet power rose through the air, sending her opponent hurtling away.

"Is that all you got?" Leoffa asked, planting the staff in the ground, power crackling across the soil in a broad swath.

"We’re just getting warmed up," Amy responded, stepping forward, knotted fists glowing with power.

A clank of steel followed her pronouncement, and Amy watched Ashley step forward out of the corner of her eyes as a slow smile crept onto her face.

Alexandra came next, sword held up with both arms, and planted the weapon blade-first into the soil, holding it upright before her. No one who beheld her would ever mistake her for imposing, but none would miss the glint of determination gleaming in her eyes. For the first time, Amelia caught a glimmer of the old Kruhl and felt a shiver work its way down her spine, realizing how fearsome he must have been on the battlefield.

Leoffa cast her arms out, staff rising into the air of its own accord. Fire lanced out from it in a broad sweeping arc and molten power blew out from her arms, burning through the air toward the trio. Amy brought her shield up, arms barred across her chest. When the attack struck, the barrier flashed with a burst of bright energy and the blasts bounced back straight toward the sorceress.

Leoffa threw her left hand out, only just bringing a barrier up in time to absorb the blasts. Amy dropped her own shield and rushed forward, hands alight and crackling with power.

Ashley seized the opportunity. Leaping up and rocketing across the clearing, she zoomed through the open sky toward the crystal. The armored hero extended an arm, hands mere inches from the stone, but Leoffa was too fast. The sorceress let out a shrieking growl and whipped a hand out.

A tendril of violet energy whipped out and curled around the other woman’s greave-encased ankle. The sorceress pulled her arm back and sent her opponent soaring in the opposite direction. Leoffa’s eyes did not linger, instead she returned her attention to the agent and once-king.

Amelia was pressing the attack, glowing fists pounding on the magic wielder’s shield. Alexandra remained frozen in place, Waldere now alight with swirling pink and blue tendrils which shifted and churned around the weapon at dizzying speeds, but never quite touched the blade. The tiny woman’s eyes had turned milky white and she stared off into the distance as if looking upon something no one else could see.

Leoffa clenched her teeth, grabbed her staff from the air, and sent a sizzling bolt of energy hurtling into Agent Van den Broeke. The dark haired woman careened away and slammed into a tree less than a dozen feet away. The sorceress slammed her focus into the ground, splitting it and sending sparks of electricity sizzling out in every direction.

A blast of power shot out from her staff toward Alexandra, but before it struck, the once-king threw her head back and a rumbling, ferocious lion’s growl escaped her lips. Pure iridescent light encased her, then swept out across the clearing in all directions.

Official Report
Cherry Springs Nature Trail
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Brilliant bright light enveloped the once-king, as power rippled out from the sword in all directions. Though her opponent shielded her face and looked away, Alexandra’s eyes pierced the brightness with no trouble. She was aware of it, but it neither obscured her vision nor caused her any discomfort.

She tilted her head up, and let loose a loud, ear-splitting roar, the like of which she would never have managed with a human throat.

"How is this possible?!" Leoffa demanded through the luminescence, her voice echoing as if in a cave.

Alexandra had only ever used Waldere as an instrument of war. It was a powerful weapon that could deflect or even negate almost any magical attack, and was also more than a match for even the finest of swords. Yet, she’d long suspected she’d never managed to unlock its full potential. As the power of the sword coursed through her body, she knew she’d been right.

At last the light faded, and she glanced down at herself, the hairs along her spine stand on end. She no longer bore the form of a tiny human woman, but the one which she had worn until coming to this world, that of Kruhl son of Wurdan, King of Eirdon, and Master of Waldere.

Again, he was whole. He stood fully seven feet tall, sword of magic clutched within his hands. Here was the king of old, the warrior who had united the scattered Assar tribes, and defeated the armies of the Sorcerer Odalrik. Here was the warrior with the strength to wield a weapon of such awesome power as Waldere.

He snarled and threw himself forward, moving at a speed that belied his massive stature. He was almost on top of his opponent when she vanished with a burst of violet flames.

"Leoffa," Kruhl said his voice low and rumbling. "Enough with these games. Cease these coward’s tactics. I know you are a warrior at heart. Face me as any warrior would."

Leoffa answered with a shriek of rage, appearing behind him with a second fiery eruption and an accompanying blast of power directed at his back.

Kruhl jerked away, but the beam scorched his side and he growled, rounding on the sorceress, sword arching down. Leoffa rolled away and swept her staff out, slamming it into the back of the Assar warrior’s leg. Flames lanced out from the tip and he howled, again slicing his weapon down, but his former lover was already back on her feet.

She tossed the staff aside and slipped her hands inside her cloak, producing a short sword from within. The once-king snarled, already bringing his blade around to meet her, but she ducked out of the way and slipped around to his side, slashing at his exposed midriff.

Kruhl howled, clutching at the injury, and barred his teeth, letting loose an ear-piercing growl.

Kruhl was fast for his size, but Leoffa was faster. He might have had the advantage in sheer physical power and size, but it would do him little good if he couldn’t land a blow. Having trained with and fought beside him for many years, she was familiar with his technique. It gave her an edge that few would have over the once-king.

As Leoffa swirled away, the Assar warrior backhanded her, sending her reeling to the clearing floor.

Of course, Kruhl also had an edge. Not only was he familiar with her fighting style, he’d had more opportunity to practice. While Leoffa had been honing her skills with her magic, Kruhl had been training with the sword. He was an even more capable adversary than he had been when they’d last known one another, and that was saying something.

Kruhl rushed forward, blade sweeping toward the ground where his opponent lay, but again Leoffa was too fast. She twisted aside and the once-king’s blade sliced into the dirt.

Leoffa circled around him, blade slicing at his flanks, but the warrior king pulled the blade free in a shower of dirt and spun around to confront her, both of their blades clashing. Kruhl pressed forward, forcing her back and pinning her with his boot. He kicked her weapon from her grip and leaned in close.

"I’ve always loved you, Leoffa. My feelings have never changed. We can still be together," Kruhl said, a slight quiver to his voice. He thought of their night together when he’d thought her Amelia’s sister and his heart raced. "It doesn’t have to end like this."

The sorceress’s hand went for her neck and the amethyst crystal which the Assar warrior had all but forgotten about. A wave shot out, and Kruhl stepped back to avoid it. Although the shot landed home, nothing happened and the once-king realized his mistake at once. It had been another illusion.

Leoffa stood up, one arm stretched out. Her staff zoomed across the clearing and soared into her open palm. Power crackled from the stone and smashed into Kruhl before he had a chance to raise his sword.

The Assar warrior doubled over, Waldere dropping from his numb hands, his whole body convulsing in pain.

"You betrayed me and left me for dead! You really think I would forget that?" Leoffa shrieked between barred teeth. She stepped closer, and the glow intensified. Kruhl collapsed, unable to do anything but flail about on the ground. He wanted so desperately to tell her that he’d never meant to attack her, but even were he able to speak, he knew anything he said would fall on deaf ears.

"Now," she said darkly, a second darker bolt of energy sizzling out and shot toward the Crystal of Ban-Sher’i. "It’s time for you to die."

Just when all seemed lost, a dark form jerked forward, slammed into the sorceress and knocked the staff out of her palms. Amy locked her hands around the other’s wrists, planted her knees into her rib cage and glowered down at her while holding her in place with her telekinesis.

"Uh, Amy?" Ashley’s guttural growling voice asked.

Amy clenched her jaw, glanced at the other woman who was crouched about a dozen feet away, and followed her gaze. The staff was still ablaze, sending dual beams out at Kruhl and the crystal.

Leoffa took advantage of the distraction and kneed Amy. The agent rolled over, clutching at her side and groaning in pain. The magic-wielder stumbled to her feet and started for her focus, but Amelia threw a hand out, catching her by the ankle. Her adversary toppled over, fists swinging.

"Ashley!" Amelia called between blows. "Do something!"

The second the words left her lips, Ashley’s armored form surged past, rocketing not toward the staff, but toward the crystal and the violet bonfire which contained it.

Leoffa’s attacks grew more frantic. Instead of fists, she mauled the agent with her clawed hands, tearing through skin and actually drawing blood with several swipes. She struck the agent across the face with her elbow. Amelia’s hand went limp, and the magic-wielder lurched back up, dashing toward her staff.

When she was less than four maybe five steps away, a loud cwrack sounded and she froze. She spun around on the balls of her feet to face Agent Van den Broeke, who’d drawn her gun.

The agent opened fire again, and her opponent dove for the staff, her hand outstretched. When her fingers touched the polished wood, a crackle of energy burst out and the beam which had encompassed the crystal, flickered and died.

She let out a shriek and twisted around, eyes scanning the clearing. Ashley hovered above the amethyst inferno, the Crystal of Ban-Sher’i clutched in a gauntleted hand. The fiery eyes of her grotesque faceplate seemed to burn with malevolent glee.

Leoffa lashed out, sending an amethyst beam of power surging toward the armored hero, but Ashley dove forward and the attack zoomed past, dispersing into the open sky.

A roar sounded from the opposite direction and again the sorceress swirled around, realizing too late, that by attacking Ashley she’d released the once-king from her spell. Kruhl sprang to his feet and charged. She brought up her shield, but Waldere sliced right through it. Violet fire spilled out from her staff, but the sword absorbed it.

There was a glint of steel and Leoffa’s fallen sword was back in her hands. She struck out, barely managing to deflect Kruhl’s attack. She dove forward, sweeping out with her blade, but the once-king deflected it with ease and parried with an attack of his own.

Leoffa dove down, and Kruhl’s blade sliced through the air mere inches from the top of her head. Leoffa growled and rolled away as the warrior’s weapon came slashing down. Though she was an adept fighter, she could not win in a direct sword fight, Kruhl was too strong and his reach too long.

The sorceress howled and sprung back up. She dropped her sword, and instead, snatched her staff up and threw it above her head. Fire lanced out in every direction around her, burning the ground in a wide swath which consumed the dry brush all around him. Kruhl slowed eying the flames, his lips curled back from his muzzle as he emitted a low warning growl.

Seizing the opportunity, Leoffa struck out, an amethyst burst cascading around a tree. She jerked her arm up and there came a rumbling sound from the earth and a series of loud cracks as the gnarled old tree, whose trunk was twice as wide around as Kruhl’s chest, rose from the ground. With a snarl and a vicious cackle, she flung her magical focus out, and the tree hurtled toward her enemy.

Leoffa had just exposed one of Waldere’s most glaring flaws. The tree was already moving, and the sword could no sooner halt its forward momentum than it could perform a song and dance routine. The tree slammed into Kruhl and sent him hurtling away and into a copse of trees.

"Now," the magic-wielder said, spinning around to face Ashley, Leoffa’s staff pulsating and crackling with power. "I’ll take that crystal back."

Ashley met the other woman’s gaze, tightened her grip around her prize and raised her arm canon. The sorceress gritted her teeth, and hurled a bolt of power at the armored form, but her target spun away and the blast struck an old fir tree, splintering it into oblivion.

Leoffa brought her staff forward to attack again, but her arm stopped short. It was as if some invisible force had grabbed on to her. She turned her head and watched as Amelia van den Broeke stepped into sight. The agent threw her hands out, and the sorceress’s stomach lurched as the ground fell away and she soared into the air.

Amy spun, raised her hands, fixed her gaze on the tree which had pinned Kruhl in place and with a simple flick of her wrists sent it zooming away. Kruhl slumped over, a groan escaping his muzzle.

Sizzling power crackled and hit the agent, sending her slamming into the ground. Leoffa hobbled forward, using the staff to prop herself up. A blast of energy swirled out from the gemstone, but Kruhl pulled himself up and raised Waldere, which was still clutched in his hands, and moved forward, gaining speed with each step.

Blasts of amethyst fire followed in his wake, but his blade absorbed the only ones that came close to striking. When he drew close, the sorceress raised her staff to block a blow that would have hit her chest and sent fire rippling out in a semicircle.

Waldere blocked most of it, but even the weapon’s magic could not contain all the fire. Flames dances all around them, and Kruhl howled in pain and fury as they licked his sides.

Kruhl pulled his arm back, and his weapon swept out, slicing through her neck. She threw out more fire, but though the attack burned the fallen king, it was too late.

The Assar warrior watched her head fall from her shoulders, and her body crumple to the ground. Then, he fell to his knees, huddled over her fallen form, threw his head back and roared, tears streaming down his muzzled face. Light flared from the sword and enc0mpassed his towering from, but he paid it no heed.

It was over.

Official Report
Cherry Springs Nature Trail
Tondzaosha, Idaho

A halo of light surrounded Kruhl, swirling out in all directions before settling on his massive frame. It shone so brightly that it forced even Ashley to look away. When the luminescence faded, the once-king, again wearing her human skin, was crouched over Leoffa’s corpse.

She held her former lover’s dismembered head against her forehead. Tears pattered down her cheeks and her entire body shook.

Amy turned, regarding Ashley with a frown, but the dark-haired turned most of her attention to the crystal still clenched in her companion’s armored hand. "Keep that thing hidden until I can figure out what we should do with it."

Ashley nodded, and a series of mechanical whirs sounded from the suit. Plates retracted from her chest, abdomen, legs and arms, revealing the young woman within. She crawled out, and the armor, moving of its own accord, slipped the crystal inside the opening and closed back up.

Amy regarded Ashley for a moment, arched an eyebrow and moved toward Alexandra. The little woman set Leoffa’s head down, and rested one hand on the corpse’s shoulders, straightening the arms and positioning the body, which lay sprawled out on its side, so that its back was resting on the ground. The legs she pulled straight out and the arms she folded over the chest. She returned Leoffa’s head, positioning it over her shoulders and closed the eyes with her open palm, a sob escaping her lips.

"Go dígo mbealfymid le shéila arues. Bea’altene Dohan d’ynem a thraurú go sábhylt chaeig an soel aile." Though Van den Broeke didn’t understand the words, she guessed from the reverence with which the other woman spoke, it was some sort of invocation for the dead.

Amy put a palm on Alexandra’s shoulder and the Assar warrior looked back at the agent through tear-soaked eyes. She buried her head in Amelia’s shoulder and her entire body wracked with sobs.

"You did the right thing," Amy said, tears burning her eyes. "She would have never come around."

The pair held one another for several moments and would have for longer had it not been for a flurry of movement nearby. Fredericks, Harris and the AEGIS task force, minus Grimes and a nameless agent, whose absence Amy only noted by counting heads.

It seemed the sorceress’s barrier had fallen with her death.

Amy put her hands on Alexandra’s shoulders, met the once-king’s gaze and nodded toward the newcomers. The former Assar seemed to understand. She nodded and pulled away, allowing the other to slip free.

Amy rose and turned to meet Fredericks, who approached, gun held ready. "Van den Broeke?"

"We have resolved the situation here," she muttered with a long breath of air and glanced back over her shoulder. "Grimes?"

"He’s getting medical care now. He’ll live," Fredericks replied peering around the clearing and settled his gaze on Leoffa’s staff.

Amy bent down to retrieve it and turned it around in her hands, regarding the gemstone which had turned black once again. "Fredericks, we need to focus on damage control. This town’s police force was decimated. I have reason to believe that the police forces, several local elected officials and who knows how many towns people may still be compromised."

Van den Broeke flattened her lips, mind racing as she considered the possibility that someone within AEGIS had also had their minds twisted. Her gut sank at the prospect, but she knew she couldn’t just let her suspicions sit. Unfortunately, that meant that there were very few people within the agency she would be able to trust.

Fredericks nodded. "I’ll get a containment crew brought in."

"You good to oversee things?" She asked Fredericks while peering back at Alexandra.

"Yeah, of course," he replied, eyebrows shooting up.

"I… have some personal business to attend to." She returned her gaze to him, jaw set as if expecting him to challenge her, but he just nodded again.

"You’ve had a rough time of it. I’m sure you’re tired."

Amy did not respond, but gave him a brief smile and turned away. She gazed at Alexandra, realizing with a start that Waldere was missing.

With quick, yet furtive steps she moved back, crouching down beside the once-king and studied her features. The other woman did not take notice of her, and Amy did nothing to draw her attention. Then Amelia noted a glint of steel on the warrior’s arm and sucked breath in through her teeth.

An arm ring in the shape of a sword was coiled around Alexandra’s arm, it bore the same hilt design as Waldere. Amy understood the implications at once, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. The former king had proven herself, and for the time being she deserved some time to rest and mourn.

"Fredericks, I’m taking Alexandra with me. You can debrief her tomorrow."

Again Fredericks eyebrows arched, but he only nodded. Amy took a moment to help the once-king to her feet, allowing the tiny blond to lean against her, then guided her back to the car.

They say time mends all wounds, but the agent knew better. The loss Alexandra was experiencing would stick with her for the rest of her life. In time, she would think of it less and less, but there would always be an empty place in her heart.

Amy stepped out of the car and peered down at the cheap burner phone she’d purchased at a local drugstore as a temporary replacement for the one she’d discarded while on the lam to find yet another text from Sapphira.

Amy smiled and slipped the phone back into her pocket without responding. She’d spent hours speaking to her lover over the phone that very morning. As near as the agent could determine, the other woman had come awake at almost the exact moment Leoffa had met her end, dispelling any doubts that the sorceress was behind the other exemplar’s mysterious ailment.

As much as she loved and adored Liv, she couldn’t put off the task ahead of her any longer. She stepped onto the curb and approached the storefront of Phil’s her lips pressed together in a frown. Although she’d never stepped inside, she was familiar enough with the establishment to hesitate before entering.

It wasn’t so much that the place had an unsavory reputation. As bars went, it was the sort of place frequented by middle-aged men just looking for a drink and catch a game or two after work. Nor was it particularly rowdy, but there was one defining feature that gave her pause.

It had been and apparently still was her father’s favorite watering hole. She’d heard all about the ‘boys at Phil’s’ from her own father’s mouth and though it had been years, she doubted the regulars had changed much since then. It was the kind of place that resisted change.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Sure enough, Lucas van den Broeke sat at the counter. He looked more or less like she expected, and the years had not been kind to him. Her father was fifty-six and looked more like he was approaching his seventies. The Van den Broeke patriarch slid his fingers through a shock of gray hair and rested his palm over his bulging belly.

Amy sat down next to him and stared straight forward, her lips trembling as her insides twisted into knots. She pressed her lips together and waved the bartender down. She ordered a Shirley Temple and shifted to regard her father as Phil prepared her drink.

Lucas glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, and at last, her elder blinked. He sipped his beer, which judging from the way the foam had settled had been sitting for some time and set it down with a careless clatter.

The bartender turned to give him a warning glance, and Amy cocked her head and returned her father’s gaze with as neutral of an expression as she could muster.

Lucas cracked a smile and slipped a hand on her knee. Amy nearly lurched out of her seat, but forced herself to remain in place. The taste of bile rose in her throat and she resisted the urge to swing at him.

"Honey, are you lost?" Lucas laughed, and cast a glance over his shoulder at the barkeep who was watching the encounter between pursed lips. "Maybe, I can help you find your way. Of course, there might be a detour along the way, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate the company."

"No," Amy said, a surge of anger in her voice, and she slapped his hand away. "I’m not here for that, Dad."

The elder Van den Broeke jerked back, eyes growing wide as he peered at his eldest child, understanding beginning to dawn on his face.

"Oh, God… Andy?"

"Amelia," the agent corrected, staring back at him, her face getting redder and her expression contorting into a glower.

"The fuck, you want?" He asked, any evidence of joviality gone from his face.

"Closure," Amy answered.

Lucas balled a fist and pulled it back. Amy was ready for the attack. She reached out with her mind and with a flick of her wrist forced his hand into the countertop. She put barely any force into it, and at worst his hand might throb for a few moments. He deserved far worse, but she would not lower herself to his level.

"Assaulting a federal office, is a serious offense, Dad. I’d hate to arrest you."

If her use of telekinesis surprised Lucas, he didn’t show it. He continued to scowl at her, face growing redder by the moment. Amy regarded him, her features calm and collected. She snaked a hand inside her jacket and showed him her badge.

"I just need to say something and then I’ll leave. You made my life hell and I’ve spent the last decade and a half trying to forget you even existed, but I didn’t realize I was still carrying around so much baggage."

Lucas didn’t speak, but glanced down at his fist and attempted to leverage himself against the bar to gain his freedom. He cursed, regarding her between gritted teeth.

"You’re still a man, you know that? I don’t care how pretty of a package you wrap yourself in, your DNA doesn’t lie."

Amy smirked, almost laughing at the pronouncement, but held back her mirth. She might have mentioned that the brain structure of a trans woman was identical to that of a cis woman, or a dozen other arguments that sprang to mind, but held her tongue. Lucas van den Broeke was a hardliner and staunch conservative. He would never be swayed, even if he knew she was pregnant.

"I’m through letting your shadow cast a pall over my life. You are nothing to me, nothing." She regarded the bartender as he approached with her glass and produced a bill out of her breast pocket before turning back to look Lucas in the eyes.

She stood, took a sip from her drink and grimaced. The agent didn’t speak another word, but set the glass back down, turned away and strode out of the bar.

She stopped outside, her heart hammering in her chest, and swallowed… hard. To some that might have seemed like a vain ego stroke, but for the agent it was her way of, at last, letting go of all the pain that had plagued her for so many years.

With a smile, she strode back into the car, slipped her phone back out of her pocket and climbed inside.

Brian van den Broeke turned the crystal in his hands, transfixed. He couldn’t say why, but the bit of Amethyst called to him in a way he didn’t understand. He should do something with it, he sensed, it would let him unleash power…

There was a knock on the bedroom door and he blinked, shaking his head. He frowned at the stone, then slipped it into his pocket and called to whoever it was to come in.

The door creaked open and Amelia stood in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. He sat up, paying no mind to his surroundings, and regarded her thoughtfully.

Before they were separated, they’d both been teenagers, and Amy had been a gangly kid struggling with her gender identity. Now she looked every bit the woman he’d always known she was. He smiled, and ran a hand through his mop of dark hair, and looked his eldest sibling in the eyes.

Amy exuded an air of confidence that he found so at odds with the troubled youth he’d known. He was happy she’d found herself, but he knew it must have been one hell of a journey to get there.

"I guess you’ll be leaving soon," he offered, a frown creasing his features.

"No, Amy replied, dropping both of her hands.

"In light of everything, my boss is letting me take some time off. I figured I’d spend some of it reconnecting with my family." Amy stumbled over the last word, but Brian paid it no mind.

"I mean, if you don’t mind me sticking around for a wee—"

Brian lurched to his feet, threw his arms out and embraced his sister. "I’d love that," he said after they pulled away.

"There is one thing… though," Amy added. "I want you to consider coming back to California with me."

Brian furrowed his brows, but his older sibling held her hands up before he could speak. "I just want to make sure there’s no lasting effect from what that woman did to you. AEGIS has state-of-the-art medical facilities, if anyone can find something it will be our doctors."

Brian nodded and felt a lump form in his throat. Recollections of Leoffa’s intrusion played out in his mind. He remembered very little of it, but what he recalled produced a shiver that tickled its way down his spine. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she may have messed with something while rattling around in his brain. He cupped a hand over the stone in his front pocket, but didn’t say a word.

"Y-yeah," he nodded, his voice quivering. "That’s… probably a good idea."

"Great." Amy cupped his face in her palms. "Now come on, Serena said dinner’s about ready."

Brian followed his older sister out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where their mother Serena, their younger siblings Erica and David, and that odd little blond woman with the cat’s eyes waited. The second eldest Van den Broeke sibling had his own issues with his mother, but he had to admit it was nice being a family again.

Official Report
King’s Café
New Hebron, California

The woman sat at the corner table and peered out at the city through the large glass storefront and sighed. She collected a stray lock of hair and pushed it back, only to have it flop back in front of her eyes. She growled and entertained the idea of having it lobbed off, as so many males of this world did, but she rather liked the way her current hairstyle framed her face. Her hands slipped out, sliding over her legs to flatten the crease in her skirt, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice spoke.

"Are you ready to order?"

Alexandra peered up, regarding the server, a rather attractive young woman with a wide-eyed, almost startled set to her features. Her skin was milky brown. The once-king regarded her and pressed her lips into a line. She had trouble distinguishing between human races, and Amelia hadn’t been helpful in that regard. The agent had advised her not to call attention to it, though. Which judging from the odd reactions the little blond had received seemed like sage advice.

Still, the girl’s features were appealing, even if her eyes were a bit sunken and she looked as if she could use a few solid meals. Alexandra found that she could not look away. She only regarded the other woman, mouth agape and heart pounding inside her chest. A shudder worked its way down her shoulders and through her entire body. She thought about doing rather pleasant things to the attractive woman, things which she’d long since learned were not acceptable to speak of in a public setting.

"Miss?" The girl asked, twirling the end of one of her dark locks with her index-finger.

Alexandra closed her mouth and snaked a hand over Waldere, her fingers tracing the lines of the armlet as she met the other woman’s gaze. After Leoffa’s death. The sword transformed her back into her human likeness, and she had not called up the weapon’s power since. She felt its energy pulsating whenever it touched her skin. She could not explain how the sword underwent its transformation or why it took its current form, but she knew that if she were to call upon its power, it was hers to use.

"Uh, I’ll just—" The server turned away, but Alexandra’s hand jerked out and grabbed her wrist.

"I’m ready."

The girl studied Alexandra, then peered down at her wrist, gritted her teeth, and jerked back, breaking her hold with a flick of her wrist. Alexandra blinked. The ease and strength with which the other woman had freed herself was startling. The once-king was not strong in her human form, but the girl was much more powerful than she looked.

A smile creased Alexandra’s face and her heart beat harder. God, that was such a turn on.

"I’ll have the egg-white fiesta omelet, and the house coffee," the little blond said, a slight quiver to her voice.

The server studied Alexandra, her eyebrows furrowed, and moved away without taking another glance. The once-king watched her move away with a lump in her throat. She hadn’t dated since Leoffa’s death, and while she’d attempted to curry the favor of certain females, those attempts were only noteworthy in how unsuccessful they’d been. Human courting rituals were even stranger on this world than her own.

This woman was special, Alexandra knew it the moment she laid eyes on her. She would win this one over and they would make sweet, passionate love.

She studied her, as she fought to remember the dating advice given to her by Jen and Hailey, but such recollections escaped her. The only thing she could think of was bedding the pretty server.

Alexandra swallowed and watched the other woman move about the café. It seemed obvious that the server was aware of her attentions, and yet she refused to meet the once-king’s gaze. Among her own people, a potential mate would meet such obvious interest with an immediate reply. Either the woman she desired would match gazes and the courting would begin, or she would receive a more violent answer. Either way, things really became heated.

Oh, how she longed for the more simple courting rituals of her homeworld.

Crystalline clinks exploded from the storefront, crashing into the tiny little diner. A shower of glass reined onto Alexandra and a long dark cylinder clanked and skittered across the tiled floor before settling into place with a metallic thud. A dark cloud began oozing out of the tube like a snake slithering out of its burrow.

Though the former Assar warrior was new to this world, she recognized the weapon at once, even if she did not recall a name for it. She had seen it in use in a film of war. She sprang from her seat, hurtling herself at the cylinder, and snatched it from the ground. Without missing a beat, she spun around and tossed it back out through the shattered storefront.

Men in black tactical gear converged on the cafe, and the frontmost of them brought up his rifle to deflect the canister. It clattered back inside and landed at Alexandra’s feet.

She howled and slid her hand up the side of her arm, already invoking the power of Waldere as smoke billowed out from all around her. As a familiar bright luminescence surrounded her. She threw her head back and a booming feline growl erupted from her lips.

The dark-haired server pounced, rushing to intersect them and pushed Alexandra back several steps even as Waldere’s magic rushed through the once-king. Alexandra peered through the illumination as the girl sped forward, slamming into the foremost of the attackers with her shoulder, and he went careening to the ground.

The attackers stumbled back as the illumination around the once-king grew more intense. The girl seemed unaffected, and Alexandra gazed in delight and fascination as she knocked them around as if they were children. Clearly, there was a reason Alexandra had been drawn to her.

The last burst of illumination spun out in a circle dispelling into the air, and Kruhl son of Wurdan stood in Alexandra’s place, Waldere, now returned to its true form, clutched in his hand. His head barely cleared the ceiling, but he paid it no mind. More men spilled into the little café and he joined the fray.

Gods, it was glorious.

I will be glad to answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is unintentional. If you see this story hosted any place aside from danielawolfe.com, Bigcloset Topshelf, Scribble Hub, Fictionmania, or DeviantArt please let me know.

Author's Note: This was originally posted on my website for Halloween. While not exactly new it’s almost a complete rewrite of Devil's Due which was originally a Mixed Tape entry, and is more than double the length of the original. I’m finally going to bring this story into the official cannon for my open universe Tales from Meridian the rules of which can be found by visit the open universes page on my website.The original can still be found on this and other sites, but it will forever remain a standalone and not part of the Meridian-verse.

I’d always heard stories, we all have. I mean, I didn’t think they were real. Who really does any more?

The devil was about as real to me as the Tooth Fairy or Santa Clause, but then something happened that shot all those perceptions to hell. I’d met a woman, a beautiful one, and she’d offered me everything I’d ever wanted and more. At first, I was skeptical, but then she showed me things, amazing and terrifying things and I didn’t find it so hard to believe anymore. Truth be told she terrified me, but when I saw what she could do, I wanted in and so I signed on the dotted line and I accepted her price, my soul.

Had I understood what that meant, I never would have agreed, but I was young and stupid. To me a soul was just a word. What she promised seemed to be too good to pass up and what did I get in return? Money and fame. Who would turn that down?

Within hours of our deal, I got a call from a casting director saying that she wanted me to audition for a part. Whatever doubts of the authenticity of the woman’s claims I might have had were promptly vanquished. Meridian, the town I lived in was dinky, and I’d never once traveled outside of it. I’d never aspired to a career in acting and I had virtually no presence on the web. For a big Hollywood casting director to call me out of the blue was damn right improbable if not outright impossible.

So, I took the first flight out of that little shit hole and never looked back. Long story short, I got the part and I rose to fame. Money, big houses, fast cars, and even faster women. I had it all and I even trashed a few hotel rooms as stereotypical as that might sound. Just when I’d settled into my new life of glamour and luxury she came to collect for what I’d promised her.

It was night, and I was more than a little drunk. I staggered out of the bathroom, Belvedere bottle clenched in my hands as I lurched my way through the house and into my bedroom where my latest conquest was waiting, but soon discovered that, she appeared to be missing.

“Aimeeee,” I called out dropping the bottle and cursing as I danced around the broken shards.

“I believe her name was Alisha,” A voice spoke, and I swirled around tottering around on my feet before I finally managed to do a complete one-eighty and face the intruder.

I cursed the moment my eyes caught sight of her and backed away pointing my finger at her. I stepped on several shards of glass, but I was so caught up by my terror that I barely felt it. “Y-you!”

“Yes, me,” she smiled advancing on me. “It’s time to collect what you promised Adrian, do you remember?”

“No, no, no!” I screamed at her. “It’s too soon, too soon! Do you hear me?”

“Really? When did we ever specify an amount of time? I think what you’ve been given is certainly enough. Haven’t you enjoyed all the attention that you’ve received? You certainly seemed to have been enjoying Aimee. I know had enough fun watching you two go at it.”

“You were there?” I stared back at her with wide eyes still just a little woozy from the alcohol, but sobering up more and more by the minute.

She crooked a finger and stroked my cheek. “Of course, I’ve been here with you this whole time poking and prodding in the direction the Lady Satan wished and I must say you’ve performed just as expected. A little boring, really, but it seems to please my mistress so I suppose it’s all worth it.”

“You can’t make me go to Hell! I won’t go!” I screamed crossing both arms across my face in some vain hope I could shield myself from her unholy powers. “I’m not gonna burn!”

“Oh, honey,” she let out a soft, almost soothing little laugh. “You don’t actually think Hell is all fire and brimstone, do you? It’s a metaphor silly, not everything in that silly little book is meant to be taken literally. Eternal damnation is much, much more interesting. You wouldn’t be so lucky in any case. The Lady Satan has big plans for you. You really think we’d go to so much trouble of purchasing your measly little soul just to spend eternity torturing you in the deepest recesses of hell?”

She snapped her fingers, and I felt my body stiffen. I stared up at her, eyes wide and cursed myself. Never once had I thought to ask what my punishment might be. Somehow it had never seemed to matter.

She snapped her fingers a second time and I could feel my whole body begin to snap and contort. I collapsed to the ground clutching at my burning insides begging her for mercy. At first, there was only pain, all consuming and mind-numbing, but when I felt my chest begin to swell I screamed out, not in agony, but shock. I touched my new budding breasts, and quickly slipped my hands over my dick as it began to wither away. When it was all finished, I looked up at the she-demon, and shook my head.

“Why?”

She knelt down in front of me, smiled, and stroked my chin. “Your soul belongs to the dark mistress for all eternity.She doesn’t waste resources, but sometimes they need a prettier wrapper to really bring out their potential. I happen to think, you make for a very lovely succubus, don’t you?”

I swallowed hard and stared up at her with wide eyes. She took a few steps back and I climbed to my feet feeling my clothes slithering around on my body, becoming something far more fitting to my new form.

“Now dear, the nights still young. There are still plenty of souls about for a pair of she-demons like us to lead in to temptation, wouldn’t you say?”

I bit my lips, looked down at my breasts which looked ready to pop out of my skimpy little dress and felt a slow smile form on my face.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only danielawolfe.com, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Author's note:

This is my shortest story to date, but it's one that hits particularly close to home as it covers a topic that I have personal experience with: abuse. There are some pretty strong parallels to my own relationship with my mother and until now I had not found the right story to broach the subject. That being said, while abuse is central to the plot, I tried not to dwell on it too much. This is different from the sort of story you guys have seen from me up to this point. The narrator is transgender in the truest sense of the word and it's set in our own world with a little bit of magic thrown in.

Shout outs go to the following people: Beyogi and Maggie Finson who served as a beta readers, and the late Holly H Hart for her superb editing prowess.

Adendum:
With her passing I’m rededicating this story in Maggie Finson’s name. I think it only fitting since she came up with the title.

This story has so much meaning for me, it was written so long before my egg cracked. In retrospect, I believe had I delved deeper into this story, it probably would have cracked much sooner. You’ll probably understand why once you’ve read it.

Sometimes your past has a way of sneaking up on you. For some folks that could be a good thing, but for me it nearly always meant trouble. Now I know what you're thinking, and it's not as if I lived a violent life of crime or anything like that. When you grow up in the sort of mess that I did your past isn't exactly something you like to dwell on. My father died when I was very young and my mother, discontent with her lot in life, turned to alcohol in order to cope. She was a mean, bitter and manipulative woman, and she made my life a living hell. I'd been lucky in one respect, at least, a lot of people who grew up in abusive homes were beaten. My mother only ever tried to hit me once, and by then I was both bigger and stronger than her. When she hit me, I hit back, and she never so much as laid a finger on me again.

My mother always had a handle over me. She knew just what buttons to push to get me to do what she wanted and she manipulated me with the skill of a master puppeteer and much to my shame I let her do it. My mother could read me like a book, and had known whenever I was keeping something from her, but there was one secret she'd never guessed at. Perhaps, she knew and just wouldn't accept it or perhaps the mask I wore was so convincing that even she couldn't see through my carefully laid facade.

You see, for as long as I could remember I'd been convinced I was meant to be born a girl. My memories of my early childhood were foggy at best, so I can only surmise that something scared me enough to bottle my feelings up and keep them concealed. I sometimes thought that my mother may have had played a hand in this, but I doubted I would ever know for sure, especially now that she is dead.

I hadn't spoken to her for years, and I'd been perfectly content to leave it that way so it had come as a pretty big surprise when I got the call about her death. The call came from an old friend, one whom I hadn't heard from in years, but one who had been on my mind nearly every day since I'd left home almost ten years ago. Katie, my closest friend growing up, and the only person I'd ever truly loved. I spent years trying to work up the courage to ask her out, but I was far too afraid to put our friendship at risk. It seemed fate was not without a cruel sense of irony, in our senior year my hopes were dashed and I learned that devastating truth, Katie was a lesbian. She was only attracted to girls, and despite my secret belief that I was meant to be a girl, I knew we could never be together. Completely heartbroken, I left town once we graduated and never returned.

It was just two days before Christmas when I got the call, and as always I was spending the holidays alone. It wasn't that I didn't have any friends, but there were just too many bad memories and I would just as soon drown myself in alcohol and spend my Christmas in a drunken stupor. I'd only had two beers and was about to start in on a third when I heard the phone ring. I almost didn't answer it, but for some reason I had this nagging feeling that it might be important.

"Jake?" a soft and melodic female voice asked from the receiver.

My heart skipped a beat and I felt ice cold chills shoot down my spine. It had been almost ten years since I'd heard her speak, and despite the subtle changes that time had made to her voice I still recognized the speaker as Katie immediately.

Memories came to me unbidden and I fought to keep my emotions from getting the better of me. "Katie?"

"God, it's good to hear your voice. I just wish it were under better circumstances," Katie said from the other end. There was a distinct tone of tension to her voice and I just knew that something was up.

"Katie? How did you get this number? What's wrong?" I asked her feeling a lump form in my throat.

"It's actually Deputy Forenst now, I work for the Sheriff's office. Look Jake, I wanted to be the one to tell you. Your mother, we found her dead yesterday morning."

"Shit… How?"

"She took her own life. I'm sorry."

My hand, the one holding the receiver, started to shake and I felt all my bitterness and anger rise to the surface only to mingle with guilt and grief. My mother, my tormentor for so many years was gone. I wasn't sure how I should feel and I was having trouble reconciling the sudden flood of conflicting emotions.

"Jake?"

"Yeah, I'm still here… I just… I haven't heard from my mother in so long and now to learn that she's dead. God, I don't know how to feel," I said, hot tears stinging my cheeks.

"Jake, I… if you don't want to come home. After all that woman did to you–"

"No," I said cutting her suddenly short. "I think I need to see for myself."

After a long conversation Katie offered to let me stay at her place and I reluctantly agreed. I didn't want to impose on her, but I had nowhere else to stay, as my hometown of Meridian was so small it didn't have a hotel and I sure as hell wasn't staying in my mom's place. I was still reeling from the news of my mother's death and I wasn't quite sure how to react. A part of me wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, and the other wanted to jump up in the air and shout out in glee. I know it sounds horrible, but my mother had brought me nothing but grief, and in a weird sort of way her death came as a relief.

I let out a long sigh, walked over to where I'd left my still unopened third beer and picked it up. I stood there holding it in my hand, and stared at it blankly for a moment. I shook my head, set the beer back down then sank down to my knees and started to weep.

"Dammit!" I cursed and turned my windshield wipers up to full speed.

It was Christmas Eve, and the drive to Meridian, my hometown, had been pretty sedate to begin with, but just a few hours in it had started to snow. It wasn't really all that bad at first, but the closer I got to Meridian the more heavily it came down. I could only see a few yards in front of me and it didn't show any signs of letting up. The mountain road that led into Meridian was hazardous, even under the best of conditions, and I was really beginning to regret my decision to come. I sighed, and flipped my car star stereo on. Adam Gontier's voice screamed out the lyrics to I Hate Everything About You, and I could feel the singer’s emotions as acutely as if they were my own.

The song had come out when I was still living with my mother, and had quickly become one of my favorites. As of late my musical tastes had moved away from the angrier and more angst ridden stuff I'd listened to in High School, but for whatever reason that particular song had remained in my playlists, and at the moment it was just the sort of song I wanted to hear. I hated my mother, I hated that her death had affected me as it had. I had never had any intention of returning to Meridian, but there I was, doing just that. It was as if my mother had reached out to manipulate me one last time from beyond the grave.

Still, it would be nice seeing Katie, despite how much it would hurt. I still had pretty strong feelings for her, and I knew those feelings would never be returned. It was strange that after so long that my emotions would remain so strong. Maybe I was just clinging to the unattainable so that I wouldn't get hurt by anyone else. It went to show just how pathetic I really was. I was afraid to get married, and afraid to have kids for fear that I would do what my mother had done to me and ruin my own children's lives. It was better that I remain alone so that the cycle of abuse could be broken, or at least that's what I told myself.

For the first time in years I found myself thinking about my gender identity. Well that's not really accurate, I thought about it all the time, but this was the first time in a long time that I had really put any deep contemplation into it. Over the years I had carefully constructed an image of myself for the outside world to see. I did everything I could to appear as an ordinary guy, but that image was a lie. At one point I considering seeing a gender therapist, but the thought of hormone therapy and SRS held no appeal to me. I wanted to so desperately to be a woman, but I was tall and was pretty well built like a tank. With my face and body I didn't think I could ever make a passable woman, and I'd always feel like I was pretending to be something that I wasn't.

The tune changed to Norns by HeavensDust and I was about to reach down to change tracks when I caught a glimmer of light out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to find a pair of headlights headed right at me. I swerved out of the way in time to avoid getting hit, but I went flying off the road. For a moment my car teetered over the edge of the mountain's cliff, but then the car suddenly jerked sideways and everything went black.

My head felt like some deranged carpenter had been beating at it with a mallet as vision slowly returned to me. I reached up to touch my forehead and felt something warm and slick, when I pulled my hand away I found that it was covered in blood. I took a deep breath and thought I might pass out from the pain as stabbing sharp agony shot from the lower-left section of my rib cage. I groaned, and turned my head to take stock of my situation. My car's descent appeared to have been halted by a small copse of oak trees, but I had no idea how far down the mountainside I'd fallen, as the snowfall was so thick by then that I could only see a few feet in any direction outside the car.

The front of my car had crumpled inward and I was pinned against the steering wheel. All attempts to free myself were an exercise in futility and only resulted in more pain. The good news was that I could move my feet, so I wasn't paralyzed. My biggest concern was that I was bleeding pretty badly, and if someone didn't find me soon I feared I might bleed to death.

I gave up on trying to get free and focused on trying to keep warm. I was wearing my coat, which provided a great deal of insulation, but it was damn cold, and snow was drifting into the car from a crack in the rear window so I knew that it wasn't going to be enough. I slipped my hand into the sleeve of my coat and lifted it up to the bloody gash on my forehead. Short of tearing off a sleeve I didn't have any means of cutting off the blood flow, so my coat sleeve would have to do.

I found myself drifting off and I realized it would probably be bad for me to fall unconscious again. I'd banged up my head pretty good, and I thought I might just have a concussion. I fought against my drowsiness and did the only thing I could think of to keep myself awake, I sang. Like my mother, I'd been gifted with a pretty good singing voice, and one of the few good memories I had of her was of the two of us singing together. Of course, the first thing I could think of happened to be 'White Christmas', which seemed an oddly fitting tune for my current predicament.

Singing was second nature to me, and it didn't take me long to turn to more melancholy tunes like 'Everybody Hurts' by REM, but as I struggled to stay awake the lyrics started to slip from my mind. I eventually just started to scream out in misery. I don't remember all of it, but I do remember calling out to whatever god, goddess or gods would listen to me, begging them to end my pain. I didn't want to live anymore, I hated my life, I hated my body and I didn't want to live with it any longer.

I could never bring myself to completely discount the possibility that there was a God, but I'd never really put much stock in the idea of a wise, merciful, omnipotent and omniscient god. If there really was a God, and He really gave a fuck about any of us, why would He put us on this earth to feel so much pain? If He really cared about His children why didn't He try to alleviate our suffering? Then again maybe His power was limited and He was just as helpless as the rest of us, or maybe He just didn't give a damn.

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned my head to stare into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid my eyes on. She had long blond hair, a dazzling set of green-eyes, and she stared down at me with a calm reassuring smile. She tugged at my sleeve and I felt myself being lifted gently from the car and placed back down on the ground.

"Jake," she whispered kneeling down next to me. "I'm sorry that I've never done enough for you."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Someone who has watched over you for your entire life," she smiled.

"W-what do you want?"

"What I've always wanted, to protect you and help you to be happy," she said, reaching down to cup my face as a single tear ran down her left cheek.

"I can't undo the years of abuse and mistreatment you've suffered at your mother's hand, but there's one thing I can do that should make your life a little more bearable," she said with a thoughtful smile as her hand slid away from my face.

"Hey, what–?" I protested as she pressed her hands into my chest.

"Shh, don't worry. It's all going to turn out alright," she said with a very slight smile just before a blinding white light filled my vision.

"Your bitterness is understandable, but know this. God is real and he does care," I heard her whisper as darkness closed in and I felt myself slip back into unconsciousness.

I woke to find a brilliant bright beam shinning in my eyes and for a very brief moment I thought that my mysterious rescuer was still there, but realized that the light was coming from an ordinary flashlight. I groaned and shielded my eyes against the beam's golden luminescence.

I briefly took stock of my situation remembering the accident and everything that happened after. And there was my body… it felt strange. Something was different, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Jenn?" A familiar voice asked, and the light faded away to reveal the face of the newcomer.

‘Jenn? Who is Jenn?’ "Katie? God, is that you?" I said with a loud gasp, and couldn't believe my ears at the sound of the voice coming from my mouth.

‘God, I sound like a woman!’ Maybe the reason my body had felt different was because it actually was different. I hurriedly reach up and grabbed at my chest and let out a loud squeal at the pair of fleshy globes I found there. They were breasts, but how?! The woman that had freed me from my car… it was her doing, I just knew it!

"Jennifer," Katie knelt down to touch my shoulder with a reassuring smile. "You've been in an accident, but you're going to be alright. An ambulance is on the way."

I swallowed hard and nodded. Had I hit my head harder than I thought? God I really hoped not! Whatever had caused my sudden transformation had fulfilled the deepest desire of my heart and I was pretty sure I had the woman to thank. Who was she and why had she done this? For a moment I thought she might be a goddess, but then I remembered what she had said about God being real. Then it came to me, and the answer seemed so stupid I almost laughed. She was my guardian angel. I'd always discarded guardian angels and their like as nothing more than silly fairy tales and wishful thinking. Clearly, I was going to have to rethink a few things.

"Katie, what time is it?" I whispered reaching up to touch my old friend's face.

"It's just past one in the morning," she replied with a slow intake of breath.

She was so beautiful and I felt a slow smile creep onto my face as I realized what being woman meant. Not only did I have the body I always wanted, but I had a chance to be with Katie. I said a silent prayer in my heart of thanks to whatever God had sent the woman--no my guardian angel--to me. My past may not have been all sunshine and daisies, but I could see a glimmer of what my new future might entail and it looked to be very bright indeed.

"Katie come closer," I whispered.

Katie furrowed her brows, and leaned in as I had suggested. I reached up and grabbed the collar of her shirt, then tightened my grip and pulled her closer still.

"Merry Christmas, Katie," I whispered just before locking my lips around hers in a kiss.

As she broke away she stared done at me with wide eyes and the beginnings of a smile as she whispered the words, "Merry Christmas" just before I pulled her in for another kiss.

I stared down at my mother's face and grimaced. She had once been a very attractive woman, but no longer. Years of alcohol abuse and a laundry list of poor health choices had taken their toll. I actually looked quite a bit like her in my new form, and every time I looked in the mirror I saw a younger, more attractive version of her face looking back at me. She looked calm, almost peaceful laying there in the casket almost as if she were asleep. I turned my back and leaning heavily on my cane I limped back toward the door where Katie was waiting. The viewing was just getting started and the funeral services would be held later on in the day.

The crash had left me in pretty bad shape, but it could have been much worse. I had a few broken bones here, a sprain or two there, the big ass gash across my forehead and of course my body was covered in bruises. I wasn't what you would call thrilled about my injuries, but I think I could live with them especially considering the other ways in which my body had changed.

As near as I could tell I was a fully functioning woman, and I had my beautiful guardian angel to thank for that. Reality itself appeared to have changed along with me. Everyone in town knew me as Jennifer, or Jenn as Katie preferred to call me. They had no memory of a Jake Melton. To them I'd always been Jennifer. For the most part everything was pretty much the same, but there were subtle differences. Apparently, in this new reality Katie and I had dated in High School, but we broke up before I left town for college.

I didn't dare tell anyone what had happened for fear of getting locked up in a mental institution, so I was forced to be a bit roundabout in my inquiries. The doctors said I may experience a bit of memory loss due to my head injury, so I had the perfect excuse to ask questions. The odd thing was that my memory seemed fine. Maybe it was the work of my guardian angel.

It was odd, people I'd known my entire life treated me as if I were a completely different person, and to their knowledge nothing had changed at all, though I think it had more to do with my physical gender than anything else. Still, I worried that my life as Jake had been wiped from existence. Or had it? Was my life really all that different? Jake and Jennifer were really the same person, the only real difference was that they had been born into bodies of different genders. Which begged the question: Does our physical gender really dictate what sort of person we are? I had so many questions, but I thought that perhaps I could find those answers through prayer.

I did tell one person about my change, and I'm sure you can guess who. At first when I told Katie, I made it sound as if it had all been a dream. Then a weird thing happened. She remembered me or more accurately my male self. She was a strong believer in God and she was quick to proclaim my transformation His work and a miracle to boot. Not that I was going to disagree, mind you. How the hell else was I supposed to explain what had happened?

My mother had made my existence miserable, but I wasn't going to let her influence the course of my life any longer. I had a chance at happiness and I was going to take it. As I drew close Katie reached out and grabbed my hand to provide support. I leaned against her and she wrapped her arm around my back as she led me out of the funeral home and into the light of the day.

I smiled and closed my eyes leaning my head against her shoulder. I thought I was going to really like my new life.

Comments, no matter how short, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review. Criticism is welcome, but only when presented in a constructive and positive manner.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals events or locations is purely unintentional. Only Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to post this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

NOTE: For anyone that is interested, HeavensDust, one of the bands mentioned in the story is a group that combines traditional Japanese music with Western Metal. Click here to watch their music video for the song Norns.

The other song, I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace, can be watched by clicking here

Good Deeds:
A Tale From Meridian

Second Chance:
A Tale From Meridian

 

A reluctant hero...

I had been a slave to the Qharr nearly my entire life, but one fateful day everything changed. I joined up with a group of rebels, and through a twist of fate, no one could have ever foreseen, I became the woman I am today...

A fight to liberate the Earth…
The first book in Daniela A. Wolfe’s riveting Earth Source Universe, Battle for Earth is a fabulous adventure filled with intrigue, betrayal and romance. Join Jellfree, Kaya and their band of misfit resistance fighters in their desperate struggle to liberate the Earth from as the powerful and warlike Qharr, humanity’s conquerors and most dreaded foes.

Read the sequel, Legacy of Earth, serialized only on danielawolfe.com.