Making A Splash

  Chapter 16

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  “Because a divine aspect of the Goddess of Love and War has revealed herself, and will be arriving at the capital within the week.”

  Chad let out a bone-weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Yeah, you're gonna need to explain what that is and why it matters to me,” he said.

  “Ah,” Prince Mylo said, amused. “How easily I forget. Well, I suppose by now you're passing familiar with the Empire’s patron?”

  “Huge naked chick with the big sword? Yeah, I've seen her,” Chad said, crossing his arms and recalling the ludicrous statue inside the temple.

  Rather than get upset at Chad’s casual dismal of his country's most revered deity, Mylo instead narrowed his eyes and mouthed the word “Chick…” before giving Chad a smile. “Once this is all over and we've put this place behind us, I think I would like to sit down with you and thoroughly dissect your fascinating lexicon.”

  Chad blinked at that, a tiny involuntary shudder traveling down his spine.

  Is… is he flirting with me? Is that how he flirts, or is he just weird… or am I just assuming he’s flirting with me because he's—

  “My prince,” Alfonso spoke up, cutting off Chad’s train of thought before it could start really spiraling. “Don't forget, you promised to procure some clothing for Chad.”

  “Oh, yes! I should see to that before we get lost in conversation, pardon me while I summon my couturier.”

  Prince Mylo stepped away, heading through the thick curtain divider that covered the doorway into what Chad figured was just more of the prince’s bedroom, and Chad let a small sigh through his nose.

  “You will have to be a bit forgiving of Prince Mylo,” Alfonso said quietly, sidling up beside Chad. “As stunningly intelligent as he can be, he has a remarkably difficult time detecting when he is making others uncomfortable. He may sometimes be… very intense, but I assure you he never intends offense by it.”

  “Oh,” Chad said, looking off in the direction that Mylo had disappeared. “Oh, yeah, I can understand that, I guess. I know… I knew someone back home like that.”

  “A friend?” Alfonso asked curiously.

  “Yeah,” Chad answered flatly. “My best friend, actually, once upon a time. Awkward dude, but he was…” Again, Chad trailed off, both his throat and his fists clenching. “He was nice. Nicest guy I ever met, maybe even to a fault. He put up with way more of my bullshit than anyone else, longer than anyone should have.”

  Alfonso didn't say anything, likely sensing that there was nothing he could say, and nothing that Chad wanted to hear. Eager for an escape to another topic, Chad asked, “So, how did you know I was uncomfortable? I didn't think I was that obvious.”

  One corner of Alfonso’s mouth twitched at that, and Chad suspected the man had suppressed a laugh.

  “It's your tail,” Alfonso said, pointing. “Its movements seem to grow jerky and erratic when you're distressed.”

  “Aw, what the fuck,” Chad groused, looking over his shoulder at the offending appendage. Reaching back, he took it into his and pulled as much of it around in front of him as he could. “Half the time I don't even notice this thing, has it been doin’ that the whole time?”

  Failing to conceal an amused smile this time, Alfonso cleared his throat and said, “I wouldn't worry too much about it. I doubt most people in the Empire would notice unless they knew what to look for.”

  “It's still annoying,” Chad grumbled, squeezing the thick, weirdly fleshy, weirdly muscular appendage in his palm. It was honestly not too dissimilar to holding a big snake. “Wish I could just get rid of it.”

  “I wouldn't be too hasty,” Alfonso said, tilting his head to the side and looking downward. “It's likely there to help you balance on those hooves.”

  Chad frowned and looked down at the hooves in question, his hooves, lifting one and tapping it against the rug. Wouldn't he notice if that were the case? Then again, he hadn't needed any kind of adjustment period to get used to moving his tail or walking on hooves, so maybe it was just coming naturally and he couldn't tell.

  Before Chad could respond, the curtain divider was pushed aside again, and Prince Mylo returned.

  “There,” he said, a pleased smile on his face. “The couturier will be along in a short while, but we've got some time to talk. Where were we?”

  “Goddess, aspect,” Chad rattled off. “What that is and what it means for the plan.” Another thought occurred to him and he held up a finger. “And you still need to explain how you knew I'd be coming, don't think I've forgotten about that!”

  “Ah, yes, of course,” Mylo said, clapping his hands together and smiling at Chad. “Well, as to our most immediate concerns: the aspect of the goddess.”

  “Oh, geez, I can already tell just by your voice this is gonna be a lecture,” Chad said, turning and stalking towards one of the oversized armchairs. Since it was recently on his mind, Chad was careful of his tail as he flopped into the chair, letting out a groan as he sank into the plush cushions, then nodded to a patiently waiting Mylo.

  “Alright, go ahead.”

  Mylo let out an amused chuckle and straightened his back.

  “Well, to put it plainly, an aspect of a deity is exactly what it sounds like: a living being, incarnated into the mortal realm, that possesses a tiny fragment of divinity,” Mylo explained, turning sidelong and starting to pace leisurely. “Like many things where the gods are concerned, the reasons for this phenomenon are unknown, but it is generally theorized that aspects are born for one of two reasons: to bring about a specific outcome or event in the mortal realm on behalf of the god in question, or to simply advance their agendas in a general, less direct sense.”

  Chad mulled that over in his mind for a moment, letting his head sink deeper into the cushioned seat behind him.

  “So, they're like demi-gods?” Chad asked. “Like your Empress?”

  “Ah, no, not quite,” Mylo said, shaking his head. “The Empress is said to be born of the goddess, in flesh and blood as well as in soul. Aspects are ordinary mortals whose souls alone are touched by the divine, and the circumstances of their births are mundane and irrelevant.” Pausing, Mylo cracked a smile and held up a hand. “Although, as you can imagine, within the Empire itself, almost every aspect of the Goddess of Love and War that has ever been recorded has been a member of the royal family.”

  That immediately had Chad's bullshit detectors blaring at him, and he spoke up.

  “Are you sure about that? Is there actually a way to prove someone is an aspect? Does a beam of light shoot into the sky when they’re born, or does your family just say ‘this kid is an aspect’ and it’s never been questioned because who would dare to question the royalty?” Chad asked skeptically.

  Mylo opened his mouth to reply, but immediately stalled out, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling and a thoughtful expression appearing on his face. Chad snorted and rolled his eyes.

  “Never occurred to you until just this second, huh?” Chad asked, smirking bitterly, and Mylo let out a subdued laugh.

  “To be honest, no, it hadn’t,” Mylo said, sighing and shaking his head. “Even now, determined as I am to renounce my homeland and my family, I find myself rebelling at the thought that they would do something so… so disrespectful to the goddess as to fabricate false aspects. And yet, once again, you speak of it with such confidence, as though you know it to be true, beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

  “I’m just guessing,” Chad said, shrugging. “That just seems like the most obvious route you could take. If it’s not the kind of thing that can be easily disproved, then that just means it’s even less risky for them to pick a kid at random every now and then and say they’re blessed.”

  Resuming his pacing, Mylo nodded. “Well, within the Empire at least, all the aspects that have come and gone have had notable achievements credited to them, but I’m realizing now how many of them could easily have been embellished, especially if it were the Empress herself orchestrating this ruse. But what I can’t quite begin to fathom is why she would go to the trouble.”

  “Well, there’s another obvious answer to that,” Chad said, holding up a hand. “Because she’s a fake too.”

  At least, that seemed obvious to him. He still maintained a healthy amount of suspicion that the whole six-hundred-year-old-immortal story was a huge lie, and that there was something else going on behind the scenes. That would certainly be a reason to invent a steady stream of divinely favored babies, to keep people believing you and your whole family really were the goddess’s favorite.

  But Mylo just shook his head. “Only someone who has never seen the Empress could say that,” he said, turning to stare out the window, a distant look in his eyes. He stayed that way for several seconds before the smile returned to his face, and he continued, “Outside of the Empire, you are quite right. Anyone can claim to be a divine aspect; all those notable enough to have had their lives documented said they simply ‘knew’ they were an aspect, even from a young age, so you can imagine the difficulty in weeding out legitimate cases from tall tales.” Mylo paused, turning back to Chad and chuckling. “They’re a bit similar to Outsiders, in that regard. Perhaps there’s even a link? Do you happen to feel a strong affinity towards any of the gods?”

  “Dude, I don’t even know all the gods you’ve got here,” Chad said, propping his elbow up on the arm of his chair and resting his cheek in his palm. “I definitely don’t feel particularly drawn to your weird naked lady who says everyone but humans sucks.”

  Mylo again laughed at that, but Alfonso, who had been listening in silence while peering out one of the windows, turned towards Chad and frowned.

  “Even if we believe the Empire has lost its way, I cannot condone you speaking so disrespectfully of the Goddess of Love and War,” Alfonso said, the intensity in his voice startling Chad.

  “S-sorry, dude,” Chad said, squirming uncomfortably in his chair. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just… I mean… I mean, isn’t it at least weird that she’s just naked? In the big statue, I mean? Like, isn’t that indecent or something?”

  Mylo and Alfonso both looked at him like he’d grown a second head, and Chad looked back and forth between the pair for several seconds before Mylo raised a hand and spoke up.

  “The goddess teaches that there is nothing inherently indecent about the physical form,” Mylo said, and Chad could feel his brow furrowing slowly. “That’s why most traditional depictions of her are unclothed.”

  “You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” Chad asked, and when Mylo shook his head he reached up, rubbing at his temples. “What, so, you can just walk around naked here and it’s fine?”

  “Of course not,” Mylo said, and Chad felt the pretzel that this conversation was making of his brain gain another knot. “To be sure, unveiling oneself in the middle of a crowded street unannounced would be seen as a bit rude, and people would certainly expect you to provide a good explanation if you tried, but they’d likely be more concerned that you were unwell, or under the influence of something. But you would not be shamed for the mere act of being seen unclothed.”

  “What the fuuuuuck…” Chad groaned, letting his head hang forward and massaging his temple even harder. “So, what ‘good explanation’ could there be for strolling around in the nude in public?”

  “Not many these days, admittedly,” Mylo conceded, crossing his arms. “There are a handful of festivals that, if one is adhering to the oldest traditions, involve periods of nudity to pay tribute to the goddess, as well as certain rituals that call for it as well, but you likely wouldn’t be carrying those out in the middle of the street. There are the communal baths, of course, and the crimson district, both places it would not be unreasonable to expect to see people in states of undress.”

  Chad opened and closed his mouth several times. It occurred to him, belatedly, how far off track they’d wandered, and that it was mostly his fault. It also occurred to him that this might explain why neither of these two had reacted that strongly when he had sprouted a pair of… when he had transformed in front of them without a shirt on.

  Well, that or because they’re—

  Chad bit down on his tongue, lifting his head out of his hands.

  “Y’know what?” Chad said, waving his hands in front of him “Let’s just… move on. We can save the deep dive into the finer points of religious streaking later. So, one of these ‘aspects’ appeared, you said? And that’s a problem for us?”

  “Ah, yes, I suppose it’s best not to get sidetracked,” Mylo said, running a hand through his hair. “That’s another unusual development. In all other cases in recorded history, divine aspects are born as mortal children, but if the report delivered to my sister earlier today is to be believed, this aspect has taken the form of a fully realized arsenal spirit, inhabiting a newly built warship just as it was being consecrated.”

  Chad opened his mouth, and Mylo smirked, holding up a hand to stall him. “I know, you likely aren’t familiar with the term ‘arsenal spirit’ either.”

  “Bingo,” Chad said, snapping his fingers and pointing at the prince.

  “Eh… pardon?”

  “It means ‘you got it’ or ‘exactly,’” Chad said, and Mylo’s eyes lit up, his smile widening.

  Heh, figured he’d get a kick out of that, Chad thought, while Mylo spent a moment silently mouthing the word. Still can’t get over how much he looks like one of Mandy’s family though. He could be her sister… er, brother.

  “Ahem, well, as I was saying,” Mylo said, saving Chad from his own thoughts. “Arsenal spirits are another divine phenomenon, but of the opposite nature to divine aspects; They are the spirits of either extraordinarily skilled warriors or artisans, who upon death are returned to the mortal realm as spirits, their soul infused into the weapon or tool they were most proficient with in life.”

  At that, Chad’s eyebrows lifted, and he leaned forward in his seat.

  “What, like, a sword? With a ghost in it?” Chad asked.

  “There have been many swordsman arsenal spirits, yes,” Mylo said, raising a hand and counting off on his fingers as he continued. “Not just swords, but daggers, axes, maces, glaives, spears, bows; any weapon you can think to name, there has likely been at least one expert wielder who became an arsenal spirit.”

  “What can they do?” Chad asked, aware but uncaring that the excitement in his voice was plainly evident.

  “They serve as teachers and mentors to those who wield them,” Alfonso said, and Chad quickly pivoted in his seat to look at him. “They’re capable of many things, like producing illusions for the purposes of training, infusing their own talents into their wielder to help guide them through a difficult challenge, or even speaking directly into their minds.”

  “Woooah…” Chad said softly, his mind whirling. “That’s so fuckin’ cool…” When Alfonso and Mylo exchanged a glance at that, he snorted. “It means… well, okay, that one’s tougher to nail down, in this case I’m saying that’s really neat… wait, shit, that probably doesn’t… I mean, it’s interesting, okay?”

  “Aah,” Alfonso said, opening his mouth in realization. “Yes, I suppose it is. It is certainly a fascinating experience to wield one.”

  “You’ve used one?!” Chad asked, his eyes going wide.

  “Every member of my family has,” Alfonso said, smiling at Chad’s enthusiasm. “The spirit of one of our great ancestors, Gregorio Bartolomei the First. He inhabits the spear he used in life to hold back legions of the Empire’s enemies, and has taught all of us how to do the same for generations now. I’d offer to let you meet him, but that might prove… difficult, without raising suspicion.”

  Chad, aware that he was almost falling out of his seat from how far forward he was leaning, slumped backwards, shaking his head.

  “Uh, that’s fine, don’t worry about it, I just… I haven’t really had a chance to appreciate that I’m in a fant—er, fantastical other world. You’ve got wizards and magic weapons and demons and all kinds of wild shit. You even have elves, although they seem way different than what I’m used to…” Chad trailed off, momentarily lost in thought as his own words sank in. It was so easy to get overwhelmed, now that he had time to think about the world he found himself in. Once he did get away from this shitty Empire, what was he going to do?

  Later, Chad told himself. I can worry about that later.

  “Okay, so, that’s what an arsenal spirit is,” Chad said, lifting his head. “And you said this one headed our way is attached to a boat?”

  “A ship, but yes,” Mylo said.

  “What’s the difference?” Chad asked.

  “Oh, well, a boat typically—”

  Alfonso cleared his throat suddenly.

  “In the effort of ensuring we reach the conclusion of this discussion sometime before the sun sets, I must insist on trying a bit harder to keep you two on track,” Alfonso said with a good natured grin, and Chad felt his face heat up slightly. Mylo, also, looked a bit sheepish, nodding and reaching up to pat Alfonso on the shoulder.

  “Right, yeah, sorry,” Chad mumbled, but Alfonso just waved his apology away.

  “Yes, let us cut straight to the point,” Mylo said, raising his head and folding his arms behind his back. “The issue at hand is that earlier this morning, an arsenal spirit manifested within a ship set to depart to join the imperial navy. This, alone, is unprecedented; there has never been a recorded case of an arsenal spirit inhabiting something so large or… complex.” At the last word, a strange look flashed across Mylo’s face, but he shook his head, likely trying to follow Alfonso’s urging and keep himself on track. “To complicate matters further, the spirit herself professed not to be the spirit of a renowned captain or skilled sailor, or any other once living person, but as stated earlier, an aspect of the Goddess of Love and War. The observing bishop, one Brother Eugene, claims that he is convinced beyond all doubt that she is genuine, and, as we speak, she is sailing up the coast and will arrive in the capital within a week.”

  Chad let out a low whistle, placing his hands behind his head.

  “Wow, okay,” Chad said. “So, that is bad for us, then?”

  “It could be bad for us,” Mylo corrected, his soft face taking on a serious edge. “The trouble is the sheer unknown nature of this anomaly. Why has something previously thought impossible come to pass right now, and what is this aspect’s purpose for being?” Mylo shook his head. “With no way of knowing, and so little time before she arrives, I cannot risk her presence causing unforeseen complications to the plan. To that end, there is only one solution.”

  Mylo paused, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

  “We will need to accelerate the plan,” Mylo said, opening his eyes and staring determinedly down at Chad. “We must be ready to eliminate the archbishop and escape before this spirit arrives.”

  Silence hung in the air after Mylo’s declaration, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Chad sat forward again, letting out a breath.

  “So, we’ve got seven days, then?”

  Like a lightswitch being flicked, Mylo’s serious expression vanished, replaced with one of mild confusion, one of his eyebrows raised.

  “Seven? No, no, a week is only five days,” Mylo said, then grinned. “Wait, does that mean weeks are seven days long in your world? Does that mean every quarter is thirty-five days instead of twenty-five? How long is a year?”

  And, just like that, they were derailed again. Before Chad could answer, or before Alfonso could try to steer them back, a knock resounded at the prince’s door. The three of them stared blankly for a moment, before Mylo jerked his head.

  “Oh, that’ll be Ambroise,” he said, turning towards the door, but pausing, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the adamantite cuffs, tossing them to Alfonso.

  “Uuugh,” Chad whispered, standing up and holding his wrists out. “This is so annoying.”

  “I know, but you’ll only need to bear with it for a little while longer,” Alfonso reassured him, refitting the cuffs around Chad’s wrists, again taking great care not to cinch them too tightly.

  Checking that everything was in place, Mylo opened the door to the hall, revealing a tall, elven man with orange skin and green hair, dressed in a brightly colored silken shirt with floral embroidery and dark, high-waisted pants.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Ambroise,” Mylo said, stepping aside to let the man into the room.

  “Nonsense,” Ambroise said, waving a hand airily. “I live to serve, Your Highness. Now, show me to this demon you have taken into your care.”

  Chad’s brow furrowed as Mylo led the eccentric-looking man closer. His accent was both different and much more pronounced than anyone else Chad had spoken to in this world, which admittedly was a very small pool of people. Chad was no expert on accents, having written off the way Mylo and Alfonso talked as “vaguely British,” but the closest thing he could compare to the way Ambroise spoke was a thick French accent.

  How does that even happen? Chad asked himself while Mylo took his sweet time exchanging pleasantries with Ambroise on the way to his corner of the room. I haven’t even bothered to ask why everyone here speaks English, and now I have to wonder if this world has a France?

  “He’s right this way,” Mylo said as he approached, one arm held out towards Chad. “Do be careful. I haven’t yet gone through the process of forging a contract with him, but between the cuffs and Alfonso, he shouldn’t be able to harm you.”

  “You wanna bet?” Chad asked snarkily, baring his pointed teeth.

  “Ooh, feisty,” Ambroise said, smirking, reaching into a pouch on his belt and withdrawing a rolled-up strip of cloth. “Well, I’ll be the one taking your measurements, so unless you want your clothes to come out sized wrong, you’ll behave yourself.”

  Scoffing, Chad turned his head away and shrugged.

  “Whatever, do what you want.”

  Ambroise chuckled, then turned back to Mylo. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to work with him like this,” he said, and Chad raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind, I’ll need those cuffs off so I can properly measure his arms and shoulders.”

  Chad blinked, glancing from the tailor to Mylo, who also looked a bit confused by the request, taking a step forward and holding a hand up.

  “Ah, I’m afraid that will not be possible,” Mylo said, shaking his head. “It would be… too dangerous to remove the magic suppressing cuffs.”

  “My prince, please,” Ambroise said, letting out a dry chuckle and placing one hand on his hips. “How long have I worked for you? You know that my services come with an ironclad guarantee of confidentiality. I’m not sure what arrangement you and this demonic young lad have come to, but I know that those cuffs have already come off at least once already.”

  Chad was unable to keep the surprise from showing on his face, and Ambroise flashed him a grin, jauntily cocking his head to one side.

  “What, did you expect me to believe you got that shirt on while your arms were still bound? And don’t try to tell me you already had it on; that’s one of Alfonso’s, I’d recognize it anywhere.”

  Several seconds of silence passed, the three of them all exchanging glances across the gap while Ambroise just stood there looking pleased with himself, before Mylo let out a sigh and brought a hand to his forehead.

  “I… suppose there is no harm in it,” Mylo said, fishing into his pocket and withdrawing the small ring that held the key to the cuffs. “You have been a longtime friend and confidant, but I hope you can understand that we have our reasons for this deception.”

  “Certainly, certainly,” Ambroise said, waving his hands while Mylo approached Chad, quickly and deftly unlocking the cuffs. “You’re royalty, after all. You’re entitled to your little games.”

  “Well that didn’t last long,” Chad muttered, lightly massaging his wrists and narrowing his eyes at the taller man.

  “Oh, don’t give me that look,” Ambroise said, winding one end of the strip of cloth around his fingers and smirking. “The shirt was just the most obvious giveaway. I knew from the second I walked in here that you were anything but Prince Mylo’s captive; from the look in your eyes, to the way you stand, it's clear that you're anything but subdued.”

  “Yeah, I’m a terrible actor, I know,” Chad said, sighing. “So, we gonna get this over with?”

  “Certainly,” Ambroise said, circling around until he was behind Chad. “Now, raise your arms up and hold them out.” Chad did as he was instructed, suppressing the urge to pull away when he felt the man begin to hold the measuring tape up against his body.

  “So, why don’t you tell me what it is I’ll be making for you?” Ambroise asked over Chad’s shoulder.

  Chad furrowed his brow, glancing at Mylo, who simply smiled and shrugged. He kind of hadn’t considered that it’d be up to him to decide what he was going to get to wear.

  “I don’t fuckin’ know…” Chad said, most of his brainpower focused on ignoring the sensation of being poked and prodded by this relative stranger. “I don’t suppose you know how to make a t-shirt.”

  “A… tea shirt?” Ambroise asked, pausing momentarily. “Is that a shirt just for drinking tea in?”

  Chad closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath and resisting the impulse to smack himself in the forehead.

  “No,” he finally said. “No, I mean ‘T,’ like the letter.”

  “I’m… afraid I don’t follow. Which language is that letter from?”

  Chad opened his mouth to say “From English, duh!” but caught himself, his mind suddenly throwing up warnings. Cautiously, he asked, “What language are we speaking right now?”

  “Hmm, now that’s an odd question,” Ambroise said, and Chad could hear the amusement in his voice. “We’re speaking Eastern Trade Common, of course.”

  Of fucking course, Chad repeated in his mind. Two possibilities immediately presented themselves to him. Either that was just the name for this world’s conveniently English sound-alike language, or there was some funky magic at play that he hadn’t even noticed, that was letting him speak and understand a language he didn’t even know. Considering all this confusion was over the letter “T,” he was pretty sure it was the latter.

  “Y’know what, nevermind,” Chad said, shaking his head. “Just… something like this shirt, but less… floofy. And with shorter sleeves, like…” Chad moved his arms, careful not to get in the way as Ambroise was measuring from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. He pressed the edge of his palm to a point right about at the middle of his upper arm. “Like, this short. And not so long, I don’t want to have to tuck it in.”

  “Ah, I see, I see,” Ambroise said, suddenly reaching around Chad’s torso from behind, dragging the measuring tape across his chest. The motion, and the measurement being taken, caused a realization that had him groaning inwardly before speaking up again.

  “Uh, and…” Chad said hesitantly, his irritation going to war with his practicality. “Not too tight in the chest. Leave a bit of room, I, uh, like my shirts breezy.”

  As far as Chad was concerned, he would be glad if he never experienced that bizarre, unbidden transformation ever again, but it had happened twice now, and there was no telling if or when it might happen again. He’d rather just wear loose, baggy clothes than risk some kind of unfortunate wardrobe malfunction at the worst possible time.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ambroise said, mercifully bringing Chad back to the present before the mental images that had started spawning could overwhelm him. “Any consideration for materials or colors?”

  “I don’t know… do you have cotton?”

  “I do, in fact, have cotton.”

  Again, the question seemed to amuse Ambroise.

  “Black, then,” Chad said, nodding. Simple, but practical.

  Ambroise hummed slightly in acknowledgement, and Chad felt his hands move from his back to his waist, and again he had to grit his teeth and steel himself to avoid jerking away in alarm.

  “I suppose you’ll be wanting some new trousers as well,” Ambroise said, looping his measuring tape over Chad’s hips. “I can tell just by looking that these weren’t made for you. Tsk, look, there’s not even a proper hole for your tail. Did you just rip these open until they fit?”

  Chad opened his mouth to let out a snark-filled reply about not having much choice in the matter, but found his throat suddenly clenching up when the measuring tape was wrapped around the base of his tail, causing an unfamiliar sensation to immediately race up his spine, leaving every hair on his body standing on end.

  “H-h-hey, watch it!” Chad sputtered, finally no longer able to resist the urge to pull away and spin around, reaching back to cover his tail as though he could snuff out the lingering ghosts of the alarming tingling feelings that had been left in the tailor’s wake.

  Ambroise, for his part, did not look amused this time, but rather wore a sympathetic frown.

  “My deepest apologies,” he said, holding a hand to his chest and bowing his head. “I did not realize that area would be so sensitive.”

  “Yeah, me fuckin’ either…” Chad muttered, still gently rubbing the sides and underside of his tail. When it seemed like the sensation was fading and his heart rate returned to normal, Chad sighed and returned to the spot he’d been standing, clenching his fists and turning around. “Okay, just… go slow, and don’t press so hard.”

  “My touch will be as light as a butterfly’s,” Ambroise said, first giving Chad’s shoulder a light pat, which, despite himself, he appreciated. At some point, Alfonso had moved to stand with Mylo off to the side, and Chad could see out of the corner of his vision that both of them were obviously still watching the entire proceedings.

  Great, he thought, frowning down at the floor and trying to brace himself for having his tail measured properly. Now they both know about it.

  Chad wasn’t exactly sure why he cared one way or the other if Mylo and Alfonso knew about this odd quirk of his new physiology.

  Because it’s a weak point, Chad rationalized, crossing his arms and nodding. And I still don’t fully trust them. If they decided to turn on me, they could use it against me.

  Chad chanced a glance at the pair again. Yeah, they were both still looking directly at him.

  Alfonso’s hands are so fuckin’ big, he could probably grab the whole thing with one hand, and then one good squeeze and I’d probably—

  Realizing the direction his thoughts were turning in, Chad’s brain immediately short circuited. Heat flooded his cheeks, feelings of guilt and… something else going to war in his mind. A sensation bubbled up from his chest, and Chad tried to tamp it back down, like trying to screw the cap back onto a bottle of soda that had been violently shaken up.

  Chad could actually trace the changes this time, sprouting from his chest and spreading outward, trickling down his arms and legs and up his neck, the coloration of his skin lightened to the now dreaded, obnoxious pink color. He was able to notice the ways in which the fit of his borrowed clothes changed, as his shoulders shrunk and his waist flared out, not to mention how much less baggy his shirt became. In his periphery, he could see Mylo and Alfonso’s wide eyed looks, and behind him Ambroise let out a light “Mmh?” of alarm.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Son of a bitch…” Chad groused, holding up his hands and scowling at his now slender fingers.

  Ambroise reappeared, walking around from behind him with a quizzical look on his face, glancing from Chad to Mylo.

  “Well that’s new,” Ambroise said, one hand on his chin. “Is this something that happens often?”

  “Third time today,” Chad begrudgingly admitted, curling his hands into fists.

  “Well, the good news is I was able to finish measuring your tail this time,” Ambroise said, lightly twirling the end of his tape measure with his other hand. That surprised Chad, because he hadn’t thought the man had even started measuring again. “But if this is going to be a concern, then I should perhaps take some new measurements, so I know what ranges I should work within.”

  “You don’t need to,” Chad said, shaking his head and crossing his arms. Or, attempting to, before he realized how much more difficult that would be with his body’s current… proportions. “I’m not exactly planning to go around looking like this.”

  He was already annoyed that the number of people who’d seen him this way had risen from two to three. He was not going to entertain the idea of going out in public like this.

  “Perhaps we should take a break,” Mylo said helpfully, approaching from the sidelines. “And give Chad a moment to recompose himself.”

  “Looking like what, exactly?” Ambroise asked, flat-out ignoring the prince. Unlike his apologetic look earlier, he seemed amused by the conversation, maybe even smug, and it only made Chad angrier.

  “Like a girl!” Chad spat out the word and instantly regretted it, wincing and lowering his eyes.

  “Hmm.” Ambroise hummed thoughtfully, and Chad could see his feet moving out of the corners of his vision. “Tell me, eh, Chad, was it? Tell me, is there something inherently flawed about being a woman?”

  “No…” Chad said sulkily, hunching his shoulders up. He didn’t need this. He already knew what a shitty thing that was to say, he knew that there was nothing wrong with being a woman, or even acting like one, but every time he looked down at himself, he couldn’t shut out the voice of his father, or his grandfather, telling him over and over again that there was, that the most important thing in the world was for him to “Be a man!”

  As he stared down at himself, his heart racing and his chest heaving, his breaths began to come out as puffs of fog , as though he were standing outside in the middle of winter.

  “Eh, perhaps—” Mylo tried interjecting again, and this time Ambroise actually made a sharp “Tss!” sound, cutting him off.

  “My prince,” Ambroise said, his tone gravely serious. “With all due respect, and the weight of our longstanding professional relationship behind it, please let me work. This is a matter for elven expertise.”

  Okay, this was seriously getting out of hand. Chad didn’t know what this guy was on about, but he did not want to find out. He raised his head to speak up, but Ambroise beat him to the chase.

  “Tell me then, Chad,” Ambroise began, taking a step forward and bringing himself well within Chad’s personal bubble. When he spoke next, his words were also accompanied by a faint cloud of mist, which he seemed unphased by. “What is it that you find so objectionable about this form you’ve taken on? Is it physically painful? Uncomfortable in some way?”

  Chad’s immediate reaction was to seriously consider taking a swing at this guy, and he felt his hands start to ice over in anticipation. He wanted to shove him away and flat out disregard his prying questions, but the look on Ambroise’s face gave him pause. Despite his tone, he was treating this with deadly seriousness, and part of Chad couldn’t help but wonder why. To that end, he actually stopped to think for a moment.

  “No…” Chad said eventually, lowering his head again. “It doesn’t even hurt when I change back and forth. It’s not my body that’s uncomfortable here.” Biting down on his lip, Chad circled the core of the question in his mind. “I… it’s just embarrassing, okay?!”

  “Why?” Ambroise prodded.

  “Because I’m not a girl!” Chad shouted back, hands balling into fists at his sides, chunks of ice flaking off and falling to the carpet, where a circle of frost had begun to form, starting from where Chad’s hooves touched the floor and emanating out from there.

  “I don’t believe I said you were,” Ambroise said, and Chad furrowed his brow in confusion. “Do you think this form is what makes you ‘a girl?’”

  “Tsh! Fucking, obviously!” Chad scoffed, ice crackling as he raised his hands and motioned up and down at himself. “I mean, fuckin’ look at me!”

  At that, a weary smile appeared on Ambroise’s face, and he tilted his head back, looking up towards the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh along with a billowing cloud. When he spoke again, his voice sounded different. It suddenly lacked the odd accent, but had gained some kind of indescribable resonance that made it stand out to Chad’s ears.

  “By the gods,” Ambroise said, shaking his head slowly. “I miss Belanore.” Before Chad could ask what that was about, Ambroise met his eyes again, and took another half step forward, crunching the frozen carpet beneath his feet.

  “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Chad,” Ambroise said, his voice back to normal. “A piece of elven wisdom that even some of our own kind take years to fully grasp, but that I hope might perhaps help quell some of the turmoil I see in your eyes. And, well, elsewhere.” Ambroise nodded down at the ground, at the ring of frost that was now almost three feet across in all directions.

  Chad frowned and bit his lip again. On the one hand, he couldn’t imagine anything that Ambroise was about to say could help him, but on the other hand he felt a deep, desperate hope that what he said next would so thoroughly blow his mind that Chad would suddenly stop being, and feeling like, such an asshole piece of shit all the time. And, he really didn’t want to repay Mylo’s kindness by turning his bedroom into an icebox.

  “F-fine,” Chad said, nodding. “Go ahead.”

  Smiling, Ambroise leaned forward and lifted a hand, extending one delicate finger and pointing very directly and very deliberately at Chad’s chest.

  “It is not what’s on your chest that determines who or what you are,” Ambroise said, lifting his finger and poking Chad lightly in the sternum. “It’s what’s inside your chest.” Chad blinked several times, staring, dumbstruck, and Ambroise let out a little chuckle, raising his hand even higher to poke Chad in the forehead. “And what’s up here, of course. If your heart and your mind tell you that you are one thing, then the shape of your body is irrelevant. If you came to me with this problem and you were an ordinary mortal, I would tell you that there are alchemical treatments that could easily reshape your body to better fit what’s in your heart, but I have no idea if they would even be effective on a demon such as yourself.”

  Standing back up straight, Ambroise sighed, brushing a hand through his green hair.

  “My suggestion to you, Chad, would be to ask yourself this: What do you actually feel when your body takes on this form, and why? You said it was ‘embarrassing,’ yes, but is that all; are there no positive feelings to find, no joy to be derived from it?” Ambroise asked, helpfully and handily enumerating just a handful of the mountain of questions looming inside his mind. Moving like a ghost, Chad placed his own hand over his heart, as though by doing so he could just feel the answers through it, and skip the painful process of having to figure them out on his own.

  “I fear that, until you can settle this dissent in your heart, you will not be able to find peace, and you will certainly not be able to control these changes.”

  Silence hung heavy in the air after Ambroise wrapped up his little speech, like smoke after a forest fire. Slowly, the breaths that Chad let out stopped appearing in the air, and the ice on the ground rapidly melted, leaving the two of them standing in a circle of damp carpet. Neither Mylo nor Alfonso seemed to know where to look, and Chad suddenly found himself feeling exhausted, almost dizzy. Ambroise simply wound his measuring tape slowly and meticulously around his fingers and tucked it back into his belt.

  “Well,” Ambroise said, lightly clapping his hands and then rubbing them together. “I believe I have what I need to get started. Come by tomorrow and I should have some things ready for you to try on.” With that, he bowed his head to Chad, then turned to Mylo and Alfonso. He leaned down, whispering something to the prince that Chad couldn’t make out, then said, “You three enjoy the rest of your day. Take care now!”

  And then, he bustled out the door, leaving the three of them alone.

  The silence rushed back in again, and for almost a minute none of them had anything to say. Chad alternated between glancing at the pair and looking away, while Mylo seemed occupied staring at the floor and worrying one of his knuckles between his teeth, while Alfonso shifted uncomfortably in his armor.

  “Would…” Alfonso began, stalling slightly when both Chad and Mylo jumped in surprise at the sudden noise. “Would you… like to… talk? About it?”

  Chad’s shoulders sagged as he tried to consider it. “No,” he decided, shaking his head, then added, “not right now.”

  He figured he would have something to say about what had just transpired, but right now he felt too much like a hollowed-out pumpkin three weeks after Halloween, about to collapse in on himself.

  Reaching up and rubbing awkwardly at his arm, Chad asked, “Is there… somewhere I can lie down?”

  “Ah, yes!” Mylo said, far too enthusiastically for the way Chad was currently feeling. He motioned for him to follow, walking backwards towards the curtain dividing the bedroom from the room beyond, with Alfonso bringing up the rear. “I had the spare bedchambers set up for you, just through here.”

  The room beyond the curtain was much like the bedroom behind it, only lacking the bed. There were more bookshelves, chairs and sofas and a little round dining table in one corner by the window.

  “This is the sitting room,” Mylo explained as they passed, and Chad looked around with muted interest. “You’re welcome to make use of it as well.” There were three doors spread around the room, two standing opposite the entrance to Mylo’s bedroom and one, large and ornate, in the middle of the wall to the right.

  “That leads out to the halls, and I would obviously ask that you not go roaming without myself or Alfonso,” Mylo said, pointing to the large door, then to the smaller door on the right. “That is my personal laboratory. I… would also ask that you do not enter it without Alfonso or myself accompanying you. Not that I have any objections if you wish to visit, but considering your nature as a demon, your magic may prove particularly…”

  “Volatile, yeah, I got it,” Chad completed for him. “Wouldn’t want me melting or burning or exploding or freezing or breaking anything.”

  Mylo nodded sheepishly. Chad didn’t blame him. He was probably just lucky he hadn’t been standing too close to any of the bookshelves in Mylo’s bedroom, or he might’ve damaged a lot of his books.

  “That was not your fault, Chad,” Alfonso said, laying a hand on Chad’s shoulder.

  “Whatever you say, dude,” Chad muttered, shrugging the hand off. Mylo and Alfonso exchanged more glances over his shoulders, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t even angry, for once. He wasn’t feeling like a pot on a low simmer, ready to boil over at the slightest increase in temperature.

  He was just tired.

  Mylo led him to the last door, the one on the left, and pulled it open, revealing another bedroom. It wasn’t nearly as grand as the prince’s own; the bed wasn’t enormous, for one, and didn’t have the four tall posts like Mylo’s, but it still looked like an oasis in the desert of Chad’s exhausted mind and body. He trudged forward while whatever Mylo was trying to say to him went in one ear and out the other, and barely even made it into the bed before he collapsed, flat on his face.

  When Chad next awoke, the bedroom around him was cool and gloomy, with just enough light filtering in through the thick curtains to allow him to see. He lay there sprawled out on his back, blinking in the dim light for several moments while he tried to recollect where he was, or even what day it was. Lifting a hand, slowly, towards his head, he found two hard protrusions jutting out of his forehead, and let out a sigh.

  “Guess that tears it, huh…” Chad said aloud, his throat dry and his voice rough, and at the same time oddly high. “No ‘it was all just a dream’ for me…”

  Memories of the moments before he had fallen into bed trickled back to him, and he moved his hand from his horns to his chest.

  Only to find there was significantly more chest to meet him than there should have been.

  Alarmed and confused, Chad immediately tried to sit bolt upright in the bed, but found the process significantly hampered by just how weak and sore and achy his body felt. Giving up halfway through, he let himself flop back down onto the bed, lying there in the cool, dim light of the bedroom, stubbornly trying to think about absolutely nothing at all. If he could just force himself to fall back asleep, maybe he could put this off for another few hours.

  No luck, sadly. He was wide awake and, even worse, feeling hungry again.

  “Right,” he said, letting his head roll to one side. “Probably… used a bunch of mana icing over a whole corner of the room.”

  Try as he might to focus on the negative, Chad couldn’t suppress a tiny thrill at that. He had mana. He could do magic shit. He was in a goddamn fantasy world.

  “S’not nearly as easy as the stories make it out to be…”

  Case in point; instead of getting to just being a normal guy, who went on to have normal adventures with, like, a cute elf girl or two, while learning how to fight monsters, or do magic, or fight monsters with magic, he was a weird demon guy who couldn’t stop turning into a weird demon girl, and he hated it.

  “Do you think this form is what makes you a girl?”

  Ambroise’s words played themselves out in Chad’s head, unbidden, and he scowled at the ceiling.

  “Ugh, it’s too early for thiiiiiiis…” Chad whined, pressing his palms to his eyes in frustration.

  He was avoiding the topic. He knew it. He also knew just how bullheaded he could be. If he wanted to, he could go right on ignoring it, just lie here in bed until Mylo or Alfonso came to get him, and staunchly refuse to spend a second acknowledging or thinking about what was happening to him.

  “Yeah, how well has that worked out for you, dickhead?” Chad asked the empty bedroom, frowning. Ignoring things, refusing to see problems for what they were, because as long as he kept shoving past them, they would eventually go away. That was how he’d dealt with all his problems for most of his young adult life. It hadn’t been a good plan when he was just a surly human teenager back on Earth, and it was even less likely to work here, in a completely unknown world, with a completely alien body.

  Again, part of Ambroise’s speech flashed through his mind, specifically the ending of it.

  “I fear that, until you can settle this dissent in your heart, you will not be able to find peace, and you will certainly not be able to control these changes.”

  That would mean actually taking the elf man’s advice, and asking himself some questions he really didn’t know if he wanted the answers to. Groping blindly about his head, Chad found a spare pillow and grabbed it, pulling it over his face and smothering the ensuing scream that forced its way out of his throat. Dropping the pillow, he lay back again, panting.

  “Fuck it,” he said, mustering up enough of his limited energy to shove himself up onto his elbows, then into a sitting position, then over onto his knees so he could drag himself to the edge of the bed. Like there had been in Mylo’s room, there was a desk with a mirror attached to it across from the bed. The question of what he actually looked like in this form had crossed his mind, of course, but he’d pushed that idea away, telling himself he was just morbidly curious, nothing more, and didn’t really need to know. Now, alone, he could admit that he was desperately curious to find out.

  Setting his hooves down on the floor, Chad wobbled slightly as he stood, finding that his legs were feeling just as weak and noodly as the rest of him, and his hooves in particular were sore and tender. Undeterred, he hastily hobbled over to the vanity desk, pulling out the stool and dropping into it. His eyes were fixed firmly to the wood surface of the desk, and felt like they were being held down by weights.

  “Just… look,” he told himself through clenched teeth. “It’ll only take a second. Just get it over with. Stop being a fucking pussy and just look—”

  Chad raised his eyes as he spoke, and the rest of the words dropped from his lips. He had expected to feel a complicated cocktail of emotions when he finally got a look at himself in this state, bracing himself to feel angry or ashamed or maybe even disgusted, but in all his preparation, he never expected to feel… pride?

  “What the fuck… I’m hot,” Chad said, astonished, reaching up and poking at his face, tracing a finger down his delicate jawline, poking at his positively tiny nose and turning his head from side to side. Even his eyes had changed color, the orange dots of flickering orange light now replaced by chips of pale ice-blue.

  It definitely wasn’t his face anymore—the changes were too dramatic—and yet Chad didn’t for a second feel like he was looking at the face of a stranger, either. The initial, split-second disconnect faded almost instantly, and now no matter how hard he tried, no matter which angle he looked from, this face just felt like it belonged to him, like it was… fine? Acceptable, normal even, but not bad.

  “Not bad at all,” Chad said cockily, watching his reflection in the mirror as a smug grin appeared on his face, and damn, he even had a great smile, if you didn’t mind the pointy teeth. He let out a laugh, which was really more like a giggle, and now that he was in a more stable frame of mind, he could admit it wasn’t terrible either. It wasn’t even that girly, it was just higher, brighter, and breathier than his normal voice, but still distinctly husky. He spent the next several moments alternating between making soft, wordless mouth noises and poking and pulling at different parts of his face.

  Hell, he thought idly, if this is how good my face looks, what about the rest of me?

  The thought struck him like a tuning fork striking the edge of a table, leaving the idea resonating inside his head with an almost audible hum. He finally stopped staring at his own reflection, and looked down at himself. Fighting a growing sense of illicit giddiness, Chad climbed out of the stool, taking a moment to steady himself on his hooves before looking into the mirror again.

  “Oh come ooon,” he said with a bit of an incredulous laugh as he beheld himself. He knew his borrowed shirt was loose on him, but now it looked more like pajamas than actual clothes. Something about the way this form’s proportions had shifted made it even more obvious that it belonged to someone else, someone much larger than him, and for some reason that also sent a shiver down his spine. Turning side on, Chad frowned slightly. Charming as it was, the baggy, long-sleeved shirt prevented him from getting a real, good look at the full extent of the changes to his body.

  “I should… I should at least take a peek, right?” Chad asked his reflection, putting his hands on his hips, getting momentarily distracted by how much further they came out than he was used to. “I mean, it’s not even weird, right? You’re not just some stranger; you’re me, so I can look at you all I want, right?”

  His reflection didn’t answer him, thankfully. He would hate it if he started losing it and talking to himself on top of everything else, but it felt better to “ask permission,” so to speak.

  With his mind made up, and his legs starting to shake slightly, Chad gripped the bottom of his shirt with both hands. He thought about going slowly, but that wasn’t his style. He wanted… he needed to see this. For, uh. Science.

  And so, in one smooth motion, Chad yanked the oversized shirt up over his head, getting it immediately caught on his horns and forcing him to actually slow down and navigate his way out, before finally tossing the shirt to the floor and once again peering into the mirror.

  Chad couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. Now he could see everything—er, well, almost everything—and like his face, it was not bad.

  “This is nuts. I’m like, hotter than half the girls I’ve ever dated,” Chad marveled, running a hand down the gentle slope of his curved waist, out to his flared hips. The revelation that he had curves was hitting him almost as hard as the fact that he had magic. Turning all the way around, he had to strain slightly to raise his tail out of the way enough to be able to check out… examine his own backside. Continuing to spin, he ended up facing forward again, and was just about to bend down to retrieve his shirt, when he hesitated, one last thought occurring to him.

  No. No, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He mustn't. There were probably a hundred and one reasons why he absolutely should not give into that impulsive thought, not a single one of which managed to stop him in time before he reached up, and shamelessly copped a feel off his own chest.

  “Heh, nice…” Chad said, almost reflexively, but this time he wasn’t getting handsy with whichever girl he’d rebounded to while he and Mandy were on a break. Staring into the mirror, he let his head slowly tilt to the side, his hand forgotten where it was. Like an old record, Ambroise’s advice spun up in his mind again, particularly the questions he posed to Chad.

  What am I feeling, right now?

  Well, there was an obvious answer to that…

  Not your tits, smartass! What am I actually feeling feeling, right now?

  Chad watched his slender brows furrow in the mirror. He wasn’t sure he had the words to describe all the things he was feeling. Ambroise had asked if he could derive any positive feelings from this form, and now he could definitively say he’d figured that one out; he was feeling… nice. Good, pleasant even. Maybe not full on “joy,” like Ambroise had suggested, but a certain floaty, lighter-than-air sensation, like he could be lifted off the ground at any second. More perplexing, the sea of negative emotions that he’d been drowning in every other time he’d changed seemed to have dried up. Trying to force himself to feel bad about this felt like trying to squeeze blood from a stone.

  But that was only the first half of the question. Ambroise had also told him to ask himself why he felt the things he felt in this body, and as soon as he tried, he found himself coming up blank. What did it mean, if he felt as fine in this body as he did in his normal body?

  Before he could try any harder to puzzle out the answer, there was a knock at the bedroom door.

  “Chad?” Alfonso spoke from beyond the door. “Are you awake in there? Mylo surmised you might be running low on mana again, so I have some food out here for you.”

  With a jolt, Chad yanked his hand away from his chest. Like a dam bursting, all the negative emotions, all the shame and confusion and fear he thought gone for good came barreling down on him as he remembered that the world was bigger than this bedroom, and every action he’d taken and every thought he’d thought over the past few minutes were thrown into stark relief. His mind recoiled like a vampire under the sun as he imagined anyone else knowing what he’d been up to in here, and the furious, disapproving faces of his father and grandfather suddenly loomed like phantoms in the back of his mind.

  “Y-yeah, just a min—omph!”

  In his haste to retrieve his shirt from the floor, Chad’s sore legs betrayed him, giving out and sending him pitching forward, having to catch himself on his hands to avoid face planting into the carpet. He’d been able to ignore the growing sense of weariness in his legs and hooves until now, but it had reached a crescendo when he tried to move too quickly, and now he didn’t actually know if he could stand up again without help.

  “Chad?” Alfonso’s voice came again, sounding slightly urgent. “What happened? Do you need help?”

  “Nothing, just gimmie a fuckin’ second!” Chad shouted back, scooping up his shirt and hastily pulling it over his head, this time remembering to account for his horns. Once he was decent again, he realized he still couldn’t actually force himself back up onto his hooves. As much as he hated to admit it, if he wanted up off this floor, he was going to need some help.

  “A-actually!” he called out, already dreading what was to come. “Actually, yeah, get in here, I need a hand!”

  The door was thrown open with more urgency than Chad thought the situation warranted, letting much more of the harsh sunlight spill into the bedroom from the sitting room beyond.

  “Hey,” Chad said with forced casualness, looking up from the floor as Alfonso rushed over to him.

  “What happened?” Alfonso asked, kneeling down, his hands raised as though ready to reach out and assist him, but also held back at a safe distance as though weary of doing exactly that, and Chad couldn’t blame him.

  “I tripped,” Chad said, which was technically true. He sighed and motioned down to his legs, splayed out in front of him. “My, uh, legs kinda just gave out on me, so Mylo’s probably right, I think I’m running on empty here.”

  “Oh,” Alfonso said, lifting his hands a little higher. “May I… would you be alright if I helped you up?”

  “Nah, dude, just bring my breakfast here and I'll eat on the floor,” Chad said sardonically. When Alfonso’s brow just furrowed deeper and he made no move to assist, Chad grunted in frustration and thrust his hand out. “I'm kidding! Please, help me up!”

  “Oh!” Alfonso sprung back into action, taking Chad's hand and standing up, lifting him off the floor with surprising gentleness. Chad expected him to stop there—he was fine to walk the rest of the way himself—so he was caught completely off guard when Alfonso dipped down and caught the back of his knees with his arms, literally sweeping him off his feet… er, hooves, and turning to carry him the rest of the way out of the room.

  “H-hey! I can still walk, y’know!” Chad protested, weakly slapping the back of one of his hands against Alfonso’s chest, which was the exact moment that Chad finally realized Alfonso was not wearing his armor anymore.

  Psh, so what? What does that matter to me, huh?

  “Hmm?” Alfonso came to a stop in the doorway, peering down at Chad. “Oh. Well, if you wish, I can set you down, but I thought you would appreciate getting to eat that much sooner.”

  Turning his head, Chad looked out into the sitting room, noticing the silver tray of what he assumed was his breakfast, resting on one of the far corner tables, and in his current state the distance from the bedroom to the waiting couch looked like a vast, yawning chasm. He had no doubt that he could walk that distance, but it would probably be slow, maybe even painful, and he might even need to hold onto Alfonso for support anyway.

  In light of all of that, he had to mentally concede that this was the better option.

  “F-fine,” Chad said, slumping back into Alfonso’s arms and scowling off to the side. “Just make it quick.”

  Alfonso nodded, a determined look on his face, and hoisted Chad up a little higher before setting off again.

  Alright, dude, he told himself. Just keep it together. Hey, at least I’m already a chick this time, so it’s not like anything else can happen.

  Still, try as he might, he couldn't ignore how vulnerable this position made him feel, or the physical sensation of being pressed, however incidentally, to Alfonso’s almost bare chest.

  Stop it, he chastised himself, chewing on one of his lips and trying to fold in on himself. Stop thinkin’ about his chest. Or his arms. Or his fuckin’ shoulders, what’d’you even care how big his shoulders are?!

  Alfonso himself, ever the perfect gentleman, did not so much as glance down at Chad despite surely being able to feel him fidgeting in his arms. He just slightly readjusted his grip and kept marching on, and for some reason his indifference stung Chad slightly.

  By the time they reached the little corner nook by the window, Chad’s face felt like it was on fire, so much so that he wondered if he had developed a fever on top of everything else. At a loss, he looked down at his hands and, operating on the same instinct that let him conjure and throw fire around like it was second nature, he coated his palms in a thin layer of frost and pressed them to his cheeks.

  “Are you… feeling unwell, Chad?” Alfonso asked, finally looking down at him.

  “M’fine…” Chad muttered grumpily. “You can put me down now.”

  “Ah, of course,” Alfonso said, chuckling nervously, and bent down to gingerly prop Chad up on the couch. The numbness in Chad’s legs had subsided slightly, but he still felt like a stiff breeze might knock him over as he leaned forward, inspecting the tray of food on the little knee high table in front of him.

  Piled high on the largest plate in the center was a small mountain of noodles, smothered in a thick, creamy whitish-yellow sauce. Flecks of black pepper, green herbs, and large reddish chunks of some kind of meat stood out against the pale pasta. On a smaller plate to the left rested two thick slices of bread, and to the right, a large goblet full of a liquid so dark red it was almost black.

  “Is that… carbonara?” Chad asked, staring dumbstruck at the meal laid out before him, his frustrations forgotten for the moment.

  “Hm? I didn’t think you would have encountered this dish before,” Alfonso said, standing up straight and lightly massaging one of his shoulders, an action that did not immediately catch Chad’s attention. “Your pronunciation is just a bit off though; this is called carbonaro. It’s a traditional Fulgarian dish.”

  Chad furrowed his brow, looking from the plate, to Alfonso, then back to the plate. There was no mistaking it, this looked exactly like a dish he had tried many times back on Earth, with just a slightly different name.

  Well, Mylo did say that there have supposedly been other “Outsiders” in the past, right? Chad mused as he reached for the fork laying beside the plate. Maybe some of ‘em brought their favorite recipes with them.

  Chad shrugged, jabbing his fork into the pasta, twirling himself up a heaping forkful and using one of the slices of bread to steady it against as he moved it to his mouth.

  “Mmmh!” Chad groaned, despite himself, covering his mouth the back of his hand while he chewed. He expected it to taste good, just based on how it looked, but the reality blew his expectations out of the water; the sauce was rich and flavorful, like a very sharp cheese, but also creamy at the same time. The meat, which was clearly not just ordinary bacon, was the perfect mix of salty and savory, and the generous helping of pepper also helped round out the flavors. Altogether, it was one of the most delicious things Chad could remember eating in months, maybe even years, and he rocked back in his chair, closing his eyes and savoring that first bite as he slowly chewed.

  The sound of a door opening brought Chad back to reality, and he opened his eyes to see Mylo’s head come poking out from the other door on the far wall, the one that apparently led to his laboratory.

  “Did I hear—oh, Chad, you’re awake!” Mylo said with a cheerful smile, stepping out into the sitting room. He started to head towards their corner of the room, but his steps faltered slightly and he looked at Chad with sudden surprise. “Ah, and you’re still, uh…”

  “Yeah,” Chad said through a mouthful of pasta, grunting and shrugging and reaching out for the goblet. “Was still like this when I woke up.”

  “Oh,” Mylo said, continuing to approach and tilting his head to one side. “Have you… attempted to revert back yet?”

  Chad brought the goblet to his lips, taking a cautious sip of the dark red liquid inside. It was tart, like cranberry juice, but sweeter, and the flavor was familiar. Another sip, and he realized it was the same as the “abani berries” that had been part of Mylo’s peace offering the day before. Setting the cup back down, Chad let out a satisfied sigh and leaned over his plate again.

  “Nope,” he said, already shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

  Mylo gave Alfonso a questioning look, but Alfonso could only shrug. Taking another step closer, Mylo said, “Well, good. That’s good. I’m glad to see the meal is to your liking; it’s my favorite thing to eat when I’m feeling poorly as well.” Mylo paused, as though waiting for Chad to say something else, but he just kept on chewing, so the prince asked, “So, how are you feeling this morning, Chad?”

  “Well, for starters, yeah, this pasta is really fuckin’ good, so there's that,” Chad said, swabbing a bit of the bread through a large puddle of sauce and popping it into his mouth, continuing while he chewed. “And for another, I had a little bit of time to think when I woke up, about some of the… stuff that friend of yours said yesterday.”

  “Oh?” Mylo said, his expression brightening. “Have you come to any, ah, significant conclusions?”

  Yeah, I groped my tits and called myself hot.

  “A few,” Chad said flatly, clearing his throat and raising the goblet to his lips again. “Nothing I feel like sharing with the class,” he said, taking another small sip, before reconsidering and adding, “... yet.”

  “Oh, well, don’t feel pressured on our accounts,” Mylo said, shaking his head, nodding down at Chad’s now empty plate, where he was using the last of the bread to mop up the rest of the sauce. “Restoring some of your mana should also help you feel better.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Chad agreed, holding up one of his arms and giving it an experimental flex. He’d gotten a good look at them earlier, and while they weren’t nearly as robust as in his normal form, they still weren’t anything to sneeze at. Usually, he would have felt… weird about being attracted to a girl with arms that big, but somehow when he was the girl and they were his arms, it didn’t seem so bad.

  Wait, no, that makes no sense…

  “Ah, Chad?” Mylo’s voice brought him back to reality, and he realized he’d been just staring at his arm for several seconds.

  “Uh, right, yeah,” Chad said, shaking his arm out and reaching down to grip the arm of the couch. “I was gonna say, my arms and legs felt like noodles when I woke up, but I feel a lot better now.” Just to be sure, he went slowly as he pulled himself up off the couch, but when his weight settled on his hooves, he winced and hissed. The weakness was gone, but the pain seemed to have remained, and he quickly flopped back down onto the couch.

  “What’s wrong?” Mylo asked, brow furrowing in concern.

  “It’s these fuckin’ hooves,” Chad said, lifting one leg and sticking it out in front of him, throwing his hand up in annoyance. “I don’t feel like I’m gonna fall over, but now my hooves just hurt.”

  “You might have injured yourself yesterday,” Alfonso said, leaning over and inspecting Chad’s extended hoof. “All that running around on the cobbles likely didn’t do you any favors.”

  “Hmm.” Mylo hummed thoughtfully, bringing a hand to his chin. “I would offer you a healing tonic, or perhaps a salve, but my research into demons mentioned that most methods of magical healing are ineffective on them. Rather, they are unnecessary, because demons heal themselves simply by eating and restoring their mana. Perhaps the pain will simply subside on its own?”

  Chad looked down at his hooves again, pressing one to the floor and leaning forward, testing his weight again. “It’s not like, the worst pain I’ve ever felt, but…”

  “Oh, well, if it’s just the pain, I do have something for that!” Mylo said suddenly, snapping his fingers and darting off to his lab again. Before Chad had time to even ask Alfonso what he might be looking for, the prince returned, and held out a small lump of something pale and green that looked an awful lot like a wad of chewing gum, or a piece of taffy.

  “Here, put this in your mouth and chew, but do not swallow,” Mylo advised, and Chad, already fed up with the slight throbbing in his hooves and ankles, snatched the blob and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

  Whatever it was, it tasted slightly sweet with a bitter aftertaste, and an earthy, herby flavor, almost like spinach or some other kind of leafy green, but more importantly it made his mouth immediately begin to tingle, and over the course of the next few minutes, he felt an increasing sense of blessed numbness start to spread throughout his entire body.

  “Ooough…” Chad groaned, feeling the tension draining from his muscles like the water out of a bathtub with the plug pulled. He continued to slide downwards until he was halfway off the edge of the couch, letting out a sigh. “Damn, this stuff works fuckin’ fast, I feel great,” he said, pointing towards his mouth, where the mysterious blob had all but melted away. “What is this, anyway?”

  “It is a mild reduction of essence of collin’s leaf, suspended in a bit of taffy to make it more palatable,” Mylo said, and Chad snorted again.

  “It didn’t work,” Chad said, waving his hand at Mylo’s alarmed expression. “Not the essence of whatever, I mean the taffy; this still definitely tastes like medicine and grass.” With one last flick of his tongue, the last of the chewy glob dissolved, and he tilted his head. “So what’s a ‘collin’s leaf?’”

  “Ah,” Mylo said, letting out a relieved chuckle. “Collin’s leaf is a plant, of course, cultivated for medicinal and recreational purposes, depending on which part of the growth is used. In higher concentrations, it produces a euphoric effect, but it is also very commonly used for its pain-relieving properties.”

  Chad stared back up at Mylo from the couch, the gears inside his head grinding away as he ran a quick nerd-to-English translation on what the prince had said.

  “Dude,” Chad eventually said. “That sounds like… Did you just give me fantasy weed?”

  “Hmm?” Mylo cocked his head to one side. “Collin’s leaf isn’t a weed, it’s a—”

  “Oh my god,” Chad interrupted, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shut… just shut up a second, you nerd. Okay. No wonder I feel so good.” Letting his hand drop, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and fixed his eyes on Mylo again. “Okay, you said this was mild? So I’m not about to start tripping balls or anything?” At Mylo’s confused expression, Chad rolled his eyes and amended, “I mean the euphoria stuff, is it gonna do that?”

  “Oh, no,” Mylo said, shaking his head. “The amount and variety that I gave you was only to combat the pain. I would not have you ingest anything that might impair your judgement without telling you first.”

  Chad should have expected that. Well, not that this fantasy world had fantasy Mary Jane, that he was still going to need a while to process, but that Mylo wouldn’t give him anything that would knock him silly without his permission, because against all odds it seemed like the prince was an actually halfway decent guy.

  They’re both decent guys, Chad thought as he relaxed back into the couch and watched as Alfonso and Mylo exchanged a few words between themselves that he didn’t bother trying to overhear. No wonder they’re such a good couple, they’re just both such… good dudes…

  Chad blinked a few times, swiveling his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. That was… okay, he was going to chalk that up to the painkillers and move on.

  “So, I don’t know how long this stuff lasts, but we should probably get moving, huh?” Chad said, sitting up on his elbows again.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I will bring a few extra, just in case,” Mylo said, patting his pockets, and Chad couldn’t help but snort at that. “As long as you’re feeling okay to walk, then we can get going.”

  Hmm, now that was a good question. Was he okay to walk? Gripping the arm of the cough, Chad pushed himself up with a slight grunt, holding his arms out to either side and windmilling them slightly. He wobbled once, then adjusted his hooves until he was steady. The pain, what was left of it, was negligible, and he grinned, flashing Mylo and Alfonso a thumbs up.

  “Hey, look at that, good as new! Well, y’know, relatively,” Chad said, glancing at the still-pink skin on the back of his hand.

  “Excellent,” Mylo said, clasping his hands together. A few moments of silence passed where it seemed like Mylo either forgot what he was going to say, or was simply hesitating to say it, before he cleared his throat and said, “Ah, well, to that end… Chad, if you recall, Ambroise is expecting our arrival at his workshop sometime today, to retrieve your new attire.”

  “Aaaaah, shit,” Chad said, groaning at the ceiling. “He can’t just come back here?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Mylo said with a small, sympathetic frown. “In our current situation, time is unfortunately limited, and if there are any issues with your clothes that can’t be fixed without access to his workshop, it will necessitate another trip back and forth. It would be much easier for us to simply go to him.”

  Chad’s scowl deepened as Mylo’s explanation went on. It made perfect sense, of course, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Looking down at his hands, he thought back, not just to what Ambroise had said, but to the almost forgotten conversation he’d had with Ruby in the Archbishop’s dungeon.

  “We’re demons. We don’t really come with genders the way mortals do, and living in the Abyss, where there’s a chance you could fall asleep looking one way and wake up looking another, you learn to not get too attached to anything.”

  So far, Chad had been so focused on the idea of how embarrassing, how shameful it would feel to be seen looking like a girl when he’d been a guy before, but he was basing that on anyone knowing, or caring, that he was a guy in the first place. From the sounds of things, other than warlocks, most people didn’t know shit about demons or how they worked. Hell, aside from Mylo, most people would probably call him “it” before they called him anything else, regardless of which body he was in.

  In short; there was nobody here to make fun of him, to mock him and belittle him and make him feel bad for looking like a girl except himself. And, despite what Ambroise might have tried to tell him, he knew he’d look like a weirdo if he insisted he was a guy while clearly looking like a girl. Like it or not, he was just going to have to learn to roll with those punches and suck it up.

  Clenching his hands into fists, Chad took a deep breath and raised his head, locking eyes with Mylo.

  “Fine. Let’s go,” Chad said, resolutely.

  Mylo’s expression brightened at that, and he nodded back with an equally determined look.

  “Excellent. I shall send word to have my carriage prepared!” Mylo said, turning and bustling off towards the far end of the room, where Chad noticed for the first time an array of what looked like copper funnels sticking out of the wall to one side of the door to the hallway.

  “Are you certain about this?” Alfonso said, and Chad turned to him.

  “No,” Chad admitted, biting his lip nervously. “But, like Mylo said, time is of the essence. I shouldn’t even be making you waste so much time on something as dumb as getting me clothes, the least I can do is not be such a wuss about”—he motioned down to himself—“this that I’m afraid to even leave this room. I’ll just have to… learn to deal with it.”

  Alfonso just looked at him for several seconds after he finished, before holding up a hand and offering, “Would you like a heavy cloak, perhaps? Something to wrap around yourself to conceal your identity, and help you feel less exposed?”

  “N-no, I don’t need…” Chad started to refuse, but trailed off, his mind suddenly splitting down the middle. His thoughts wandered back to the little… examination he’d given himself after he woke up. As much as he might try to deny it now in the aftermath, he couldn’t change the fact that he had liked the way this form looked. He thought it was, objectively, pretty fuckin’ hot, and for some reason the idea of bundling himself up in a cloak and hiding it away from everyone else rankled him.

  At the same time, he still knew it was the smarter thing to do, to avoid drawing a lot of unwanted questions and attention. And, if he was being really honest, the idea of getting to wear a big, cool, flowy cloak did appeal directly to a certain part of his brain, and it would reduce the chance of too many people getting a good look at him.

  “Actually,” Chad said, glancing furtively back up at Alfonso. “Yeah. Yeah I think that would be great.”

  Alfonso smiled and nodded, turning without another word and disappearing into Mylo’s bedroom. With nothing else to do, Chad just flopped back down onto the couch to wait, picking up his goblet from breakfast and finishing the last of the unfamiliar, but undeniably tasty juice.

  Alfonso returned at about the same time that Mylo did, with a bundle of dark red cloth draped over his arm.

  “The message has been sent, and my carriage will be waiting for us in the courtyard by the time we arrive,” Mylo said, turning curiously as Alfonso approached.

  “Here we are,” Alfonso said, unfurling the bundle to reveal a long, hooded cloak, complete with a mantle that would hang down over the shoulders.

  “Oh, that’s perfect,” Chad said, shooting back up and accepting the heavy cloth from Alfonso’s arms, grinning suddenly. With more than a bit of a flourish, he whipped it over his shoulders and pulled the edges together. There were a series of large buttons along the inside of the collar for securing the garment in place, and after a short struggle with his clumsy fingers, Chad was able to do them up, before tugging the hood over his head and finally tucking his arms away inside the cloak.

  “Aaaaw yeeeeah…” he said with a bit of a mischievous giggle as he looked down at himself, finding that the edges of the cloak were just long enough to cover his legs up to the tops of his hooves. This was absolutely perfect.

  “Are you ready, then?” Alfonso asked, an amused look on his face, and Chad felt his cheeks warm inside the confines of the hood, attempting to reign in his excitable energy. There was just something so… so fantasy about a big cloak!

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Chad said, nodding his head, forcing a dire expression onto his face.

  Alfonso just chuckled, turning to Mylo and nodding. The prince nodded back, and then the three of them turned, together, to head out the door into the hall. Chad felt undeniably cool as he marched along, behind Mylo and beside Alfonso, feeling more like some kind of… demon assassin than a confused, displaced alien in another world.

  Before they had gone ten steps, however, Mylo made a noise of alarm and spun around, dashing back to his chambers. Chad glanced up at Alfonso, who simply shrugged. A moment later, Mylo returned, dangling the adamantite cuffs off one finger.

  “Probably best not to forget these,” Mylo said with a nervous laugh, while Chad rolled his eyes and stuck his arms out of the cloak.

  “How are you so smart and still this much of an airhead?” Chad asked under his breath as Mylo affixed the shackles to his wrists.

  “I’ll have you know I am very organized and diligent, thank you,” Mylo replied with a playful smirk, reaching up and yanking the hood back down over Chad’s face. “Now hush, you’re a prisoner, remember?”

  Grumbling in mock outrage, Chad pulled the rest of the cloak in tighter, and they set off again.

  Thankfully, there’d been no elven maids in this hall to witness the slip up. Eventually they ran into a few on their way from the tower where Mylo’s chambers were located to the central keep, along with a handful of butlers and other servants and castle staff, all of them stopping to greet Mylo as they passed and none of whom gave Chad so much as a second glance. It seemed like they were actually going to reach their destination without any more major speed bumps.

  Of course, as soon as Chad thought that, an obstacle presented itself in the form of a voice calling out to them from across the hall.

  “Ah, Mylo! Are you off?”

  It was a high, slightly reedy voice, and it took Chad a second to place where he knew it from: It belonged to one of Mylo’s royal siblings, the man who'd been drinking by the fireplace. Turning in the corridor, Chad found the blond man strolling towards them, his face slightly red and a towel draped across his shoulders. He was wearing the bottom half of a red leather ensemble that looked like some kind of uniform, with the matching jacket slung over one arm, and a narrow sword at his hip similar to the one Chad had seen Mylo wearing when he first saw him.

  “Oh, good afternoon, Corin. Yes, I need to head out into the city for a short while,” Mylo replied pleasantly as he turned to greet the man, notably moving himself to the front of their group again.

  “My, you have been busy lately,” Corin said, chuckling, before his eyes fell on Chad, who receded further into the hood of his cloak. “Taking your new demon out for a walk as well, eh?”

  “Ah, yes,” Mylo said, motioning dismissively in his direction. “I’m taking it to have it properly attired. I can’t have it going around in the same rags it was wearing when I pulled it from the streets, now can I?”

  Mylo let out a forced chuckle, which Corin returned in earnest with his own obnoxious, trilling laugh, and Chad rolled his eyes inside his hood.

  “Well, do hurry up and forge a pact with it, will you?” Corin said once his laughter subsided, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword and grinning. “I’m eager to test my blade against an actual warlock, and hey, maybe it will actually let you best me for once, eh?”

  Corin let out another annoying laugh that persisted even as he turned and continued on his way, the noise growing fainter and fainter as he disappeared down another corridor.

  At this point, Chad was convinced he was just going to end up hating every member of Mylo’s family.

  Thankfully, there were no further interruptions after that. One slightly dizzying trip down a winding spiral of stairs, and a short jaunt through the increasingly wider halls of the central keep, and they soon reached the grand entrance to the castle. Chad was glad to get to take an actual look at more of the castle’s interior this time, since the last time he’d come through here he’d been unconscious. The towering stained glass windows that ran the length of the entrance hall were of particular interest, but he knew they couldn’t stop to indulge in his sightseeing, so he settled for just observing them in passing.

  Stepping out into the courtyard, Chad was glad to have the hood of the cloak to shield himself from the glaring sun overhead. Mylo continued to lead them across the courtyard, until they neared the front gates, where the familiar red and gold carriage that had carried Chad through the capital the day before waited for them, almost gleaming in the sunlight. The same elf in the dark suit from before stood by as well, silently bowing and reaching to open the doors as they approached.

  “Huh,” Chad said as he settled into his seat, having been given one entire half of the carriage to himself, with Mylo and Alfonso taking the opposite seat. “It’s nice to not have to ride with that fuckin’ Archbishop.”

  “Yes, he is a singularly unpleasant man,” Alfonso said, letting his back sink into the plush velvet seat behind him with a sigh. “I will never understand how someone like him managed to climb so high as to become the senior member of the most prestigious temple in the Empire.”

  “I mean, he probably just greased the right palms and kissed the right assess,” Chad said, shrugging and loosening his cloak somewhat, the heavy fabric rapidly growing too hot to bear in the warm confines of the enclosed carriage. “That, or he’s got dirt on the right people. Or they’ve got dirt on him and they put him there to use as a pawn, y’know, either way.”

  “Unfortunately, you are most likely correct,” Mylo said, turning to peer out the windows of the carriage as it slowly began to move, turning around in the courtyard and heading towards the drawbridge. “Archbishop Havener, before joining the church, was a very accomplished alchemist for the military. Even after his promotion, he worked very closely alongside the Illuminators on several projects, some which even I have not been able to discover the full extent of. Many of the records of his tenure have been sealed by one of my predecessors, and cannot be uncovered without bringing the issue to Aurelia herself.”

  “Eh… And what’s ‘the Illuminators?’” Chad asked.

  “Ah, yes,” Mylo said, a small smile returning to his face. “The Illuminators are a cohort of exceptional mages, scholars, engineers, and alchemists, responsible for researching and developing ever more new applications of magic and technology to improve the Empire’s way of life.” Mylo’s smile grew and he placed a hand to his chest. “I am one of the youngest members to ever be admitted, as a matter of fact.”

  “Oh,” Chad said, letting his head roll back and rest on the back of his seat. “So, they invent new ways for the Empire to kill people and take over the world, huh?”

  The silence that followed stretched on for several seconds, and Chad came to the delayed realization of just how harsh that must have sounded, especially if Mylo was part of this group.

  “Shit, sor—”

  “Do not apologize,” Mylo said, holding a hand up. Another second of silence passed, during which he stared down at the floor of the carriage, before his hand dropped. “You are right. As much as I idolized the organization in my youth, and as proud as I was to be accepted, I have known for some time that our work is as much a part of the imperial war effort as any other division of the army. While I, personally, believe that the focus of my own projects was only ever to better the life of every citizen of the Empire, I cannot deny that most of my fellow Illuminators’ research focuses on the taking of lives, not improving them.”

  Well, fuck. Even if he was “right,” Chad didn’t really feel good about this one. He’d only known him for like a day, but he’d never seen Mylo look so despondent. Even Alfonso was shooting him a look as he slid an arm across Mylo’s shoulders. He wanted to apologize, but Mylo already told him not to, so he was left at a bit of a loss.

  Shit, what do I do? Uh… he likes explaining things, right? Maybe that might cheer him up?

  “Uh, speaking of the Archbishop,” Chad said, feeling the gears of the conversation grinding as he clumsily tried to shift topics. “Should we, y’know, go over—”

  “Yes!” Mylo said, his head popping up like a jack-in-the-box. “Yes, while we have a moment, we should go over the plan!”

  Mylo leaned forward in his seat, holding his hands up, and began to gesticulate excitedly as he explained his plan for their attempt on the Archbishop’s life and subsequent escape from the Empire. Chad did his best to listen intently, despite still feeling somewhat disconnected from his body due to the blissful numbing effect of the medicine Mylo had given him. He had plenty of questions to ask, including needing Mylo to actually explain what the days of week were called in this world, and a few extra caveats of his own to add, but by the time the carriage pulled to a stop in front of Ambroise’s shop, Chad was feeling confident in the plan, and in their ability to pull it off without a hitch.

  (End of Part 1)