Chapter
33
Tolian leaned against the railing of
her balcony and watched the wispy clouds pass by. It had hit her hard that morning when Kreel
advised her that it was the one-year anniversary of her captivity in the
tower. One whole year. Gone.
Lost to her forever. A year of
restlessness, of loneliness, of yearning and pinning, of drug-induced numbness
that soothed her aching soul. A year
spent dealing with a wound that would not heal—a wound that bled and ached
everyday —that had transformed her womanly center of pleasure into a
source of pain. That robbed her even of
the desire to pleasure herself.
Mercifully, the effects of the lust drug had worn off. The theory that the problem was caused by the
lack of moonlight seemed to be true.
Every day she felt physically weaker.
Every day it seemed to ache a little more. She could feel the need for the Moon as a
physical requirement, like hunger, or the need to sleep. It seemed logical, as she was, after all, the
Moon Goddess. And the Moon ruled the
womb.
She was comfortable for the most
part. Her meals were always first-rate;
she could swim, read, sleep, or watch plays and events in Faerie by means of
the magickal tapestries in her rooms.
She found that she spent a great deal of time watching the tapestries
and smoking the faerie pipeweed. She
never missed watching the aerial combats between two winged faerie
warriors. They reminded her of the
Jarrels back home, but with an extra dimension.
Essentially, they had the same rules, however, with combat concluding
when one warrior hit the ground. Over
the course of the year, she had picked her favorites, and often bet with Kreel
on the outcomes of the matches. Only
friendly wagers, of course. Tolian could
have anything she wanted, within the guidelines of her imprisonment, so her
fellow gambler had nothing to offer her.
Her favorite thing to watch on the
tapestries was definitely the Will-o-the-Wisp hunts. She had a great fondness in her heart of the
mysterious light-shrouded, hovering amphibians, since her encounter with them
in the Great Marshes on her quest for the Moonsword. She always rooted for them to get away from
the faerie horsemen in pursuit. She had
to respect the determination of the faerie huntsmen and the incredible lengths
they would put their steeds to. Tolian
was amazed at how much more faerie horses could do in Faerie. They were faster, more agile, and able to
bound such significant distances that they gave the impression of flight. The hunts always took place at the twilight
of soft summer evenings on the fields and in the forests that surrounded the
Queen’s garden. The faerie huntsmen went
out on horseback armed with their ornate capture jars. They set upon a wild chase of the small
luminous beings, springing off their steeds with jars open in often vain
attempts to snag the nimble creatures.
The huntsman to capture the most in an hour was declared the
victor. It was, as Findelbres had once
told her, the most beloved sport of the Faerie Realm. The huntsmen were held in the highest honor
in Faerie, and deservedly so, Tolian thought.
For their acrobatics were extraordinary, and truly fascinating to
watch. But, Tolian always cheered on the
Will-o-the-Wisp.
She watched plays (both dramas and
comedies), processions, and trained monster battles on the tapestries. She made a few visits to the garden, but was disappointed
in that she never again encountered the multi-colored fish. She spent many hours playing with Pilt, who
was now a female cat.
She did everything she could to help
Kreel adapt to her new womanhood. The
faerie tried to appear comfortable with the change, but Tolian could tell she
still suffered from the initial reluctance to accept the situation that Tolian
had endured. Evidently, even faerie boys
were taught that girls were lesser creatures, and such conditioning was
difficult to overcome. There was guilt
for even feeling slight acceptance of the transformation. There was so much more to it than that. The sense of loss, at first was crushing. She remembered that well. From time to time, it still echoed through
her.
Tolian realized that Kreel’s
transformation provided an excellent opportunity to examine her own
feelings. There were many things that
she hadn’t thought of before. Was she
really still the same person she had always been, just in a different
body? Was she fundamentally different as
a woman than she was as a man? In some
ways, she was forced to admit, she was a different person now. As a man, she had been more reckless, less
concerned with the effects of his decisions, and less caring in general. The male Tolian was selfish and determined to
succeed at all costs; the female version had learned compassion and concern for
others. And perhaps she felt some
resentment that people treated her as a lesser being, less worthy of respect,
but that was something within them, not her, she reminded herself.
The physical changes were not an
easy adjustment to make either. With her
goddess strength, she had not at first experienced the difference in physical
prowess that her sexual transformation had wrought, but now she knew that she
had less muscle and the corresponding lack of strength and in place of those
muscles the strangeness of soft curves accompanied by a new vulnerability. If I were a man, I would not be in this
situation. But, there were positives
to being a woman and it was her job to make Kreel see that too. Feeling beautiful, though taking a little
getting used to, was a very enjoyable feeling.
Kreel was quieter than Tolian had been about
her discomfort, her dysphoria, but it was taking her much longer to come around
than the princess had. With Capreesh and
Delotti’s assistance, she instructed Kreel in dressing in fashion, applying
makeup, adjusting her movements to those more graceful and appropriate for a
lovely faerie lady. As work on Kreel
progressed, Tolian found herself realizing that both sexes had advantages and
disadvantages and that everyone had aspects of both genders as parts of their
personalities. Once she gained this
awareness, she found herself feeling more whole and balanced. She shared her realization with Kreel.
She explained.
“You have to embrace the feminine parts of yourself now.”
Over the course of that first year, she had
begun to make that adjustment that Tolian remembered so well. It gave Tolian a project to help keep her
mind off her captivity and the hole in her heart that cried for her baby, for
her family and friends, but mostly for Brythia.
Mesdor and Gredalon began to slowly
feminize during that first year, as well.
Subtle changes at first, but they progressed until they were
noticeable. Their features softened. Obviously, they had grown breasts, but beyond
that, Tolian could not say. They were
clearly dismayed and unhappy at the changes they were experiencing, but they
made no effort to befriend her and tended to avoid contact with her as much as
possible. As per Tolian’s order, they
were the only two permitted to leave the tower for any business required. Their breaks from Tolian’s presence worked to
slow their inevitable transformation.
Tolian also studied them to see if the Demon’s energies showed any signs
of affecting them in appearance or attitude.
Towards the end of the year, harshness worked its way into their
softening facial structures, a hawk-like, predatory aspect in their features.
It was by watching the tapestries,
however, that she first saw the corrupting power of the Demon’s presence, about
two months before her anniversary in Faerie.
She was watching the day’s aerial combat. Her favorite winged warrior, an undersized,
but feisty competitor, named Chatrul, was seized with a bloodlust and beheaded
his opponent in mid-air. The tapestry
zoomed up on his face as he did so. His
expression had changed from friendly to almost bestial in its demeanor and
structure. The savage grin he wore, not
only revealed his fangs, but resembled only too well the expression of wanton
malice that the Demon had worn. She
shuddered involuntarily as the realization hit her that eventually all Faerie
would be corrupted by his evil.
Distressed, she commanded the tapestries to show a pleasant natural
seashore scene, and left the room.
After that she watched the tapestries
less and spent more and more time in the library, or on her balcony staring
down on Faerie (from her vantage point there, it still looked peaceful and
beautiful) or up at the clouds. The
Empress of Clouds, she mused, lighting another bowl full of the faerie pipeweed
and reflecting upon her year of impotence, of languishing in the limbo
of her
She released the smoke from her
lungs. “Hail unto me, Tolian, Empress of
Clouds.” Looking out over the clouds, a
sense of wry humor passed over her. She
affected a regal tone and addressed a small puffy white cloud passing by, “Pay
abeyance, my wispy subject. Pay homage
to your empress.”
To her shock, the cloud paused in
its movement, held itself suspended still, and then the front part of the cloud
(nearest to Tolian) dipped down. She
blinked in astonishment.
Unless she was mistaken, the cloud
had just bowed to her. She leaned over
the railing further and stared.
The cloud held its position.
“Um, rise,” Tolian quietly
suggested.
The cloud slowly raised itself
higher in the air.
Kreel, who had been staring off in
the other direction, asked, “Who are you talking to?”
Tolian looked at her, “This cloud.”
She again addressed the cloud, “Move
to the left.”
The cloud did so.
“Interesting,” observed Kreel.
At that moment Mesdor came out to
the balcony, shot Kreel an evil glare and announced to Tolain, “The Moon will
be rising soon, you must come inside, Goddess.”
Tolian smiled and whispered, “Thank
you,” to the cloud, which bowed once again and then continued in its quiet trek
across the Faerie sky.
Copyright 2004, 2015 Diana Hignutt
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