Once More to See You - Chapter 7

Things had grown increasingly more complicated. Particularly, the entire deal with 'Madelyn,' whatever that all meant. At first, it all had been quite easy; there was an objective in mind, a goal. Questions such as 'why is it that being seen and referred to as a woman, and going by a woman’s name, is actually pretty nice?' didn’t need to be addressed when there were heavy objects to pick up, or overly zealous drunk patrons to bounce, or unsavory individuals to stand around looking menacing in front of.  They weren’t important when money needed to be earned back in order to stay in the good graces of one’s host. Nor did they burn at the forefront of the mind while trying to convince said host that the circumstances which led to such a situation arising were not due to extreme negligence, and that she would do well to let other people into her life and work on her wellbeing and keep a closer eye on the goings on of her deadly snake familiar—no matter how cuddly said familiar might be under certain circumstances.

But then, all that had to end, and instead of working tirelessly toward some concrete goal, Isaac, or Madelyn, or whoever, had little to do but think thoughts about what it all meant. It was very inconvenient, made sleeping quite difficult.

And yes, there were easy copout answers; Isaac, or Madelyn, could just say “Well, yes, see, my body is more feminine, and because of that, it only makes sense for me to want to be seen as more feminine. There’s less conflict there.” The problem with that logic, unfortunately, was that it was complete fucking nonsense. Which was a real shame, because it was really convenient logic. But also logic that ignored questions like “Why do I actually like my body more now that it’s more feminine?” And once again, Isaadelyn, Madisaalic might say “It’s ‘cause I’m big and strong like a big and strong man.” But the desire to be big and strong had never taken root before such changes were brought about by weird magic pendants. And while it was cool and convenient to be big and strong, that which delighted most was not the feeling of lifting a barrel of pickles in a cellar and carrying it up some stairs. Instead, it was that little headrush when someone might say the word “she” or “lass” or “pretty.”

Sybil had said that last one. Something about hair, and the way light hit it, and how it framed the face. Either way it had sent little shivers all up and down Madelyn’s body, causing sinking gut feelings and hair to stand on end, sending pin prick skin tingles up and down both arms. That was hard to ignore, and raised other questions which Isaac luckily could put on the backburner, but only due to the fact that there were even more pressing matters to attend to. Like how being in a radically and suddenly transformed alien body was somehow far, far more comfortable than being in one that had decades of familiarity behind it. And so, when lying in bed, those thoughts bounced around in Isaac or Madelyn’s head fruitlessly and frustratingly, like the icon on an old DVD screensaver—intently watched for the moment it perfectly slotted into the corner, but always bouncing off the side in the end.

The hard part was, this hadn’t been the first time he had questioned his gender, her gender? Their gender? There or they’re gender? How anyone was able to figure this out with any certainty was an enigma. There was no question that as Isaac, he had caught himself thinking of women in the sort of way which others might call wistful, envious. But it wasn’t as though that envy were unique. It had been extended to just about anyone and everyone who grew to be happy, well adjusted, successful. Matters of gender seemed a lot less important when there were concerns of basic day to day function and wellbeing.

And it was bullshit, anyway; Isaac had a good life, or at least, should have had one. Isaac had every advantage afforded to him, whiteness, maleness, upper middle class parents who could afford to send him to college without worrying over things like student debt. He had connections that could find him work, he was smart enough to coast by on minimal effort, theoretically anyway; that’s the way things were supposed to have been. And that was the problem, he couldn’t bring himself to settle for anything other than mediocrity. And how could his life not be mediocre if he couldn’t settle for otherwise? And how could he settle for otherwise if his life were nothing but mediocre? Was it a self fulfilling prophecy? Maybe. A Catch-22? Definitely. Did it matter? Not really.

And now all of a sudden there was the need to deal with being thrust into some other world. One where Isaac or Madelyn or whoever had things like stability and purpose and a magically altered body that made good brain juice happen. And how the fuck could that be ignored when all the other problems seemed so, well, manageable? Sure, the future was unstable and uncertain, but somehow facing it in a world where things like being capable and competent and comfortable were possible—all while having someone like Sybil to rely on, who was increasingly showing her true colors as a far better person than she thought she could be—seem so much more doable. Especially when the whole magically enhanced body thing had been thrown in, as a treat. But, what, then? Was the answer to just be Madelyn? That didn’t feel wrong, it may have even felt right. But it didn’t feel complete. It was a piece of the puzzle, an important one, but not the one that formed the entire picture. Things about the body Madelyn was in felt simultaneously right and wrong. Like so much was missing, but sometimes so little. Who even was Madelyn? And where did that leave Isaac?

Those were all important questions, and, luckily or unluckily, questions which were going to have to wait. Because lying in bed pondering their answers quickly became very fruitless when Sybil burst into the room brimming with unknown purpose. “Isaac, you’re not going to believe this, but I’ve figured it out!” Sybil seemed to have quite literally only just emerged from her own slumber. She wore only a hastily tied robe, her hair was unkempt and frizzy, and despite her energetic entrance, she had yet to shake off that sleepy look in her eye.

“You figured what out?” He hadn’t realized just how exhausted he was, but his voice sounded downright delirious. But also unusually smooth and husky; it had always been those things—at least since the change—but this time it seemed especially pronounced. His voice had the same ‘just woke up but make it sexy’ kind of quality to it that he’d heard from past partners. Though if Sybil noticed, she showed no sign. Part of him felt a little disappointed at that. He always liked the way that sort of tone sounded; it was enticing, alluring, and apparently those were things he wished to exude around Sybil?

“The spell! I mean, I didn’t figure it out entirely, there are still a bunch of moving parts and we still need to actually get the materials and such. But last night I dreamt, the time before this one I was reading this book about rare and exotic reagents, stuff that would be really hard to find in this part of the world. And I guess the one I had last night took place after that last one cause suddenly I had all this knowledge that I’d gained from it. And somehow I retained it! And most importantly, I’d picked out three reagents which I actually know how to get. It won’t be easy, but definitely achievable.” She interlocked her fingers, then brought her elbows inward as her hands rose to act as a rest of her chin as a self satisfied smile peaked at the corners of her mouth, her body swaying back and forth slightly in genuine excitement, the hem of her robe swishing in time.

“But wait, I thought it worked okay and you just didn’t do a great job the first time around, err, no offense,” he stammered

“No, you’re not entirely wrong. And to be clear, I’ll still want more details about your home just to be safe, but I think these new reagents are supposed to help either way. And perhaps more importantly, it cuts our shopping list down quite a bit. I already have most of the stuff we need now; there are still a few things that might prove, err, challenging to acquire. But it still makes both of our lives a lot easier. We’ll have this done in no time, I’ll summon her, and then we can—” She paused, lightly jerking her head back and blinking as though someone had firmly slapped her thought process upside the head. Her eyes fell on Isaac’s face—was it Isaac’s? Perhaps this wasn’t the time to wonder—and she seemed to regard him momentarily before growing uncomfortable and looking away. “Well, then we do whatever comes next.” Her tone had taken on a somber finality to it.

“Is something wrong?”

“I, well, I just realized I have a lot more to think about than I thought I did. But don’t worry, we have a path forward. I just need to do some of that self-reflection we were talking about.” It felt strange, the bad kind of strange, just how troubling it was to see Sybil so suddenly and drastically deflate. And he could relate; Sybil’s future was odd and uncertain in the same ways his was. That reality was likely catching up with her. And such burning questions were all too familiar. He’d agonized over them regularly in the past, and they grew ever more pressing in light of Sybil’s future. What would happen to him when all of this was said and done? Was the security he’d found in this new place just as delicate as before? Would he even belong in Sybil’s life anymore? It was oddly striking, just how desperately he hoped he would. But how might that manifest itself? As Isaac? As Madelyn? Were they different? Was he even and would he even be he anymore? They weren’t sure, but it sounded enticing, exciting to try something different. So perhaps they would.

And beyond that, they didn’t particularly want to simply go their separate ways with Sybil either. But this girl, that was who mattered most to Sybil. And while they were certain she’d cultivated some fondness for her unwitting company, she did not want Isaac, would not want Madelyn. Not with such competition. And that sucked, didn’t it? This girl didn’t know Sybil like they did; they reckoned few did at this point. But that mattered little in the eyes of fate. She had her place with Sybil. And who was to say what she was like? She probably wouldn’t want someone like them around to begin with. Sybil would be happy, though, that was something. Still, they’d never thought of themselves as a particularly jealous person, but there could be no denial of their feelings, not any longer.

Their concentration was broken by Sybil waving a hand in front of their face. “Okay, now I guess it’s my turn to ask if you’re alright? Cause seriously, you look like you’ve just seen a Raulith Solstice liturgy of The Lady O’lumena.”

“A what?”

“You look sad,” she said, balancing overt frankness, slight embarrassment, and concern.

“Ah, yeah, well, just like you said, got more to think about than I thought I did.” Sybil was the last person they wanted to bare their soul to. At least when it came to weird feelings of infatuation toward her, and jealousy toward a woman neither they nor Sybil had ever actually met.

“Yeah.” There were a lot of things that one little word could mean. An affirmative was the obvious one, but there were all sorts of others. It might also mean ‘Fuck off, I don’t want to talk to you,’ or perhaps, ‘I’m very clearly not engaged in what you’re saying; how much more obvious can I make it that I don’t want to hear about the weird growth on your back? I want to go home, it’s already six o’clock,’ sometimes it even might mean ‘No.’ In Sybil’s case, though, it seemed to mean ‘I don’t really know what’s going on or how you’re feeling, but I’m going through shit too and I’m sorry I don’t have something better to offer than a clumsy acknowledgement.’ And, for what it was worth, the thought was appreciated. “You um, you look a little different,” Sybil blurted.

“I do?” That was out of nowhere, and bizarre, and also weirdly exciting.

“Yeah, I think that charm I gave you might still be doing it's thing. Your nose looks a bit different, cheeks and jaw and chin too. I guess a bit smoother? Softer around the edges? And uh, just generally, well, you know.” Despite the awkwardness of their bespoke emotional discomforts, the hardest thing for Sybil seemed to be describing just what she saw. Her cheeks had grown red, she was gesturing awkwardly, on the verge of stammering. This was the first time they’d witnessed Sybil well and truly flustered by someone’s appearance. And probably the second time they’d seen her flustered to begin with. And they had to admit, it felt nice to see her like that.

It made Isaac feel more like Madelyn than Isaac, and Madelyn feel like there really maybe was a bit more to the whole gender issue thing than they’d properly thought over. Then there was the whole matter of the changes, and how Madelyn was pretty excited to hear that they were apparently still changing in a way that continued to stray from masculinity. Not only that, but seeing Sybil look at them like that made their heart beat a little too quickly. Part of them wanted to wonder if they really stood a chance with her, but thoughts like that would only ruin the moment. Instead, she wanted to revel in feeling the way Sybil made them feel with just a look. To their amusement, Madelyn realized Sybil was still in the midst of stammering her way through an attempt to put words to what she saw. So, being the charitable one they were, Madelyn decided to help her out.

“Pretty?” they offered, a smile skirting their lips.

Sybil exhaled in a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, pretty.”

Madelyn blushed.