A giant eyeball had replaced the sun, staring down at me no matter where I went. I kept running, and running, and running. Smaller sets of eyes and mouths dotted the path, jeering and laughing at me as I went past. The chorus of chuckling was soon replaced by a different noise—chirping.
It was then that I realized I was asleep and woke to darkness. I was laying on a bed of some sort, wrapped in blankets. Upon trying to move, I remembered what had happened last night. Vainly, I hoped that this was a dream within a dream but as the sunlight slowly filtered into the room, I realized I had no such luck.
Someone else was here. Judging from the light noises coming from them stirring, a man. My thoughts went back to last night and assumed it was one of the two I'd met, which soon proved to be the case. He said a few things to me, then picked me up and lightly bounced me up and down while speaking. I tried listening to him to make some sense of his words, but he clearly wasn't talking in any language I'd heard of before. It sounded somewhere between English and French, but that may have just been my brain attempting to rationalize the tone.
Seriously, what the hell?
I'm not sure what my expectations were, but this wasn't quite in line with them. Perhaps I should've specified more, though that probably would've turned out equally weird. I'm questioning if this is better than being dead. Is this better than being dead? Because I'm currently wondering what the red-skinned infant mortality rates are around here. If it's anything like the albino rates in some cultures, this seems like a fast pass to the struggle bus.
Anyway, after being seemingly coddled for a while by a man old enough to previously be my father, and now old enough to be my grandfather, a knock was heard on the door followed by a woman's voice. Thank Nex for that, I couldn't handle this awkward situation any more.
... Wait a minute, thank what now?
Thank Gggg- Thank Gooo- Thank Gooooldfish.
Well, that's new. Great.
Not to discredit goldfish and their contribution to the ecosystem or the snack cracker market, but I'm pretty sure that isn't what I meant to say. Well, one more thing to panic about later after I stop being passed to the new lady like a potato. She does seem familiar though, I think it's the lady from last night? Hard to tell when only her face is really exposed, but the slight wrinkles look the same and the voice sounds about what I remember.
Lady gave me a stiff smile and said something, so I attempted to say hello as well. I'm convinced it came off more like a mlem! than any actual words. She didn't visibly react. Unsure if she caught my drift or if she was just stunned by enchanting eloquence.
After some very enlightening conversation that I wasn't a part of at all, the three of us left the room. They'd bundled me up a bit before carrying me out, further obstructing my vision. I was trying to observe my surroundings more so I considered that very rude. Peeking over Lady's shoulder, the building appeared to mostly be gray stone walls, windows with wooden frames, and bronze sconces on the wall with candles or something.
We walked a bit longer before I heard another voice, but couldn’t crane my head around to look at whoever the newcomer was. More talking ensued which I couldn't do much besides listen to and try to understand the tone or patterns. Judging by the fact I was being carried around and not immediately tossed outside, I still held out some hope.
After a short while, I was passed off to another woman. She was much younger than the previous lady, but similarly wearing a set of white and gray robes with only her face exposed. This was beginning to cement a fear in the bottom of my stomach, but for now I held my worries at bay best as I was able. Not as if I could do much besides wiggle around and make awful noises at the moment.
With no major distinguishable features other than a set of green eyes and lack of wrinkles, I decided to temporarily call the woman, Big Green. Anyway, Big Green saw fit to look me in the face a bit more with an look of mixed apprehension and concern. I hit her with another mlem! hello, which actually caused this one to crack a smile. She had surprisingly nice teeth. What followed was a series of more being carried around like a giant potato and chattering.
The whole thing made me feel incredibly anxious and useless, to the point my brain was going off in every which direction in an attempt to ignore and disassociate from the situation as best as possible. At least ignoring was better than actively freaking out and crying again. I couldn't help but begin to tear up once more as my brain went off in a bad direction. Big Green apparently heard my sniffles because she started patting my back and rocking me up and down.
I wasn't quite sure how to feel about being coddled by a woman who was probably about my age. Or, well, what my age was ... before.
It was at that point I just plopped my head on her shoulder and let her bounce me. At least it was comfortable.
With a limited look over Big Green's shoulder, I saw rows of wooden benches lined up. Pillars of stone arched up into an impressively high ceiling. Portraits of various men and a few women lined the walls, and lightly stained glass windows let a healthy amount of light in. It was at this point hard to deny that I was in a church of some sort.
Big Green was walking down one of the aisles, when I began to feel a hot sensation that quickly turned to burning. I yelped loudly, panic rising, before I began to cry in earnest pain. Big Green froze, which did nothing to abate the burning sensation but at least it didn't get any worse. Despite what probably was a bad idea, I was involuntarily squirming out of her grasp as best as I was able. Vaguely, I realized the older man I'd dubbed literally Old Man was saying something rather loudly.
Big Green's footsteps registered as I realized I was being quickly carried. The pain began to recede, but my skin still felt raw.
Old Man and Big Green began fussing with my blanket, peeling it back to reveal my arms. Old Man gingerly held one in a worryingly firm grasp, before I too realized what was wrong. My skin, despite already being red, looked like it was on fire. Darker, irritated spots bordering on purplish had formed on my arms, and I was acutely aware of the blanket covering me. My whole body felt raw, itchy, and irritated.
I wanted to cry even more now. Pain wasn't something I was a stranger to, but I didn't understand what had just happened and wasn't in a position to communicate my situation short of screaming my tiny head off. A small whimper escaped my throat as more tears threatened to spill forth.
During my anguish, Old Man was looking at me carefully while discussing something with Big Green. At some point, the old coot decided it was wise to stick his finger in my mouth. Since I didn't have teeth, it wasn't like I could do more than gum him to death. Before I could cry out or give him dirty looks, a refreshing, cool sensation introduced itself to my face.
Little wisps of cold relaxation spread out from my mouth, to my tongue, to my throat, to my whole head and beyond. I hadn't even realized it, but I began to gently suck Old Man's proffered finger. Germs and squickiness were banished from my thoughts, completely erased by whatever these strings of condensed alleviation were. And then, just as abruptly as they came, they stopped.
My mind dumbly tried to catch up to what had just happened. Old Man popped his finger out of my mouth. My skin no longer felt tingly, and after he examined my arm again, the increased redness appeared to be receding. What's more, my whole body felt full of something that despite just getting a decent night's sleep, made me feel quite sedated. I sluggishly plopped my head back on Big Green's shoulder without ceremony and let out a satisfied sigh that bordered more on a coo!
Now hopped up on a sleep aid or muscle relaxer equivalent, I struggled to maintain my thoughts. Whatever the fuck that was, that was good. Vaguely, I recalled being wrapped back up and fussed over more, before more people arrived on the scene. All the while, I had a goofy smile plastered on my face and clung to Big Green like syrup on a pancake.
Since I couldn't understand much of what was being said and felt a bit loopy, it was hard to focus or account for events. It seemed like many people were gathered in the room and sat on the wooden benches. Pews? Those. Old Man seemed to have gone up to the front of the room while Big Green held me in the rear. I heard him speaking for quite a few minutes, before Big Green gently peeled the blanket off my head and turned us a bit to the side.
In front of me, a couple dozen robed men and women sat, staring intently at me. A few audible gasps and shocked faces ensued. The sheer number of people made me uncomfortable and the following silence was deafening. Unable to meet their gaze any longer, I managed to turn my head back into Big Green's shoulder and buried my face there while making my best attempt at a grumbling noise.
I had no idea who these people were, where I was, or what they were thinking. All I knew was they were judging me in one way or another, and that frightened me.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
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Father Elias looked down the aisle at the abbey's residents after informing them of what had occurred last night. There was going to be much discussion in the coming days, but he'd cushioned the blow as best as possible and presented the truth as favorably as he dared. They had a new resident—at least, for now. He was still planning the follow up letters and somewhat dreading the responses and responsibilities to ensue, but he couldn't in good faith abandon a child to the town. It was be no different from murdering her with his own hands.
The abbey was a tight-knit community. Many came here seeking refuge when there was none to be had. Several had pasts they weren't proud of and sought to repent. These people, despite all the fear of stigma of demons, were hesitant to cast judgment upon another. It went against the Scripture's teachings.
There were some present who hadn't joined in such dire straits. A few with family disagreements and inheritance issues that chose or were forced into the life of a monk or nun. Those coals were the ones that burned the hottest and most fearful, but he hoped to manage them all the same and guide them to reason. Elias could tell by the tension that several were heavily doubting his choice and authority. He himself had his own doubts.
Elias explained to the abbey the situation and letter, along with one of the included items specifically. This brought more discussion. Most couldn't believe a demon wound up on their doorstep, let alone with such generous payment for caregiving. Almost all of the orphans left here in the past barely had clothing to their names, let alone anything more. While such funding was wholly welcome and would enable the abbey to do much good, provide more services, and increase their quality of life, they were still hesitant about the duties that it brought the abbey itself.
Raise a demon.
It bordered on sacrilegious, even in a good light.
A small part of Elias was at least glad no one had openly suggested keeping the payment and abandoning the child. Such a significant sum would tempt any man or woman, so he was pleased to see no great glint of greed within anyone's eyes. Mostly, it was fear and uncertainty. Still, due diligence would be enacted in protecting the new funds and a budget would need to be reestablished for at least the year. It wasn't as if their current donations and income had halted, so this gold would stretch far beyond the year into improving the lives of those present and any to come.
Several complaints still met Elias' ears. All the arguments he'd already expected and prepared for spilled forth. He carefully deflected, reassured, and educated. It was all he could do for now. The coming days would be the true test.
Elias looked at Siobhan, standing in the back of the nave with so many sets of eyes still lingering on her and the child. Diadora.
A tiny little head with tufts of soft black hair already grown in. From behind, you almost couldn't tell she was a demon. The two bumps on her head barely stuck out, so other than the red skin and glowing eyes, she wasn't much different from a regular human child. Well, except for the reaction earlier.
Elias sighed, thoughts going to the altar behind him. It was a consecrated spot meant to bring the Speaker of the abbey closer to the divine will of Benevitas. It had been blessed by an Angel of Temperance before Elias' time. He was almost ashamed to have wronged the child by forgetting such an obvious thing—demons were burned by the holy mana of angels, the same as angels were weakened by the infernal mana that demon could exude.
They'd have to keep her away from the altar. Regardless of if she was without sin or not, a demon could not enter this area. It was warded for protection and filled with holy energy. A bastion against evils that would hopefully never arrive in their tiny part of the world.
Well, that's certainly one more challenge to worry about in the future.
Elias chided himself. Who knew what would happen in the coming weeks, let alone years? Regardless, the child Diadora would never be able to fit in with their morning prayers or evening services. It was a depressing thought, but there were more immediate concerns. Such as her even finding a sense of belonging with the children. And not being forced out of town or killed.
One thing at a time, he reassured himself.
Sister Siobhan remained at the back of the congregation, uncertainty painted on her face. It would be hours before everyone calmed down enough, so he gave her a small nod and waved her to take little Diadora away. Siobhan's relief was instantaneous.
Elias continued to speak with some of the more vocal members. Thankfully he had Anita's support in the matter. Geoffrey also wanted to discuss the financial plans moving forward, since as Chamberlain he was responsible for the procurement of daily necessities. Unfortunately, it was a bit too early to say. Most of the discussions boiled down to what they'd have to do in the coming week. It wasn't exactly easy to appraise and sell such a large quantity of gold this far out into The Reach, so a trip would need to be planned. Despite coming out of Winter, there was no rush.
So many questions persisted, yet not enough answers. A small part of him wished that Benevitas himself would step down from the cathedral and reassure everyone of the future, but Elias held little hope of that coming to pass. Even unheard of events such as this were a grain of sand when weighed against all of existence. At best, once Elias sent out a letter to the main branch of the Church of Benevitas, an Inquisitor would stop out for inspection and reporting, or perhaps a Prelate would be sent to give guidance.
... Or they'd send one of their winged Justiciars. That thought worried him. While the number of Angels willing or able to stay in the Mortal Sphere were few and well-known for being fair and impartial, it was no closed secret they abhorred any and all demons. From what little he'd seen personally and heard otherwise, they tolerated even the mildly affable Lust demons much less than humans did. And an unbound one would be destroyed or banished on sight.
Elias could not protect the child from a Justiciar. It was that simple. And while a Justiciar would be well suited to handling this chaos one way or another and guiding the flock, it was the 'or another' that scared Elias. Angels had been at war with demon-kind for millennia untold. Elias had seen firsthand what the dark horrors of war could do to a man's heart. He didn't want to test if Benevitas' love still held strong enough in the bosoms of angels after such a long time. The risk of being disillusioned or heartbroken was too heavy to bear. He'd seen a Justiciar in action once. That was enough.
While some of the monks and nuns had excused themselves to meditate or return to their daily duties, Elias continued to converse with the remainders well into the late morning. He should have been going over yesterday's paperwork at this point, and could only hope Siobhan was faring better in her duties and trials than he.
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I felt a bit less dazed as time went on.
I'm not sure what Old Man did to me earlier or where Big Green was taking me, but it was a welcome departure nonetheless. I didn't want to be the center of attention any longer.
After a short walk, we arrived at a door. I looked at said door and Big Green's face, curious. She said something and smiled, before pulling my blanket hood up again. After a small knock on the door, another woman's voice called out and we entered.
The room inside smelled nice, but it almost reminded me of a hospital's scent. The new woman looked at me with the appropriate amount of apprehension and confusion, but I was almost a bit disappointed how quickly that faded away. The two spoke more, and I was soon set down on a soft table of sorts before being unwrapped. Now, in prior circumstances I might've been happy to be buck naked and alone in a room with two young women. Currently, I was very much protesting the removal of my blanket and the appraisal of my very exposed body.
I couldn't even lift my head from the table properly to examine what they were doing. A warm cloth started wiping my body down, and I realized the new woman who I now dubbed Rag Lady was cleaning me. I wanted to protest. I didn't even feel dirty! It was a weird and overall humiliating experience, but given that my muscles had the dexterity of wet lasagna, I wasn't in a position to disapprove. Mental alarms started going off when the rag gradually made its way between my legs.
My mind froze up, my body going much more limp. Rag Lady continued onward to work on my legs and feet. I believe I heard her wash and ring the rag out before gently going over my ears, nose, and eyes. But I couldn't process that right now.
While I couldn't currently test my looming hypothesis, my gut feeling, or I suppose my nether region feeling, was telling me my current basement configuration was markedly different than previously. Even accounting for being a newborn, the contour of that rag pressing against me and the tactile stimulation was hinting at a very important issue.
Pretttt~ty sure I don't have my nuts and bolt anymore. Huh. Well then.
Y'know, while I fully expected Nex to grant my wish one of two ways—unless we were getting very creative—it seemed she'd settled the coin flip with a Tails instead of a Heads.
"I don't want to hate myself anymore."
It was that simple and what I'd decided on. I didn't want any super powers or immense wealth or any other myriad things I could think of. I just wanted to be able to love myself, to feel something other than unpleasantness when I looked in a mirror.
Gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia—whatever you wanted to call it and however you'd want to peg my thoughts—I'd always hated how I looked and felt. Even if I was, objectively speaking, semi-attractive, it rang hollow to me. There are some things in life that you can't change or argue with. Not even medical science is perfect. Therapy, drugs, surgery—you can change a lot about your body. But things like height? Bone structure? Your voice? Decades of hormones? Too much sticks after a certain point. Enough that it's often easier to just accept things you can't change adequately or without immense effort and funds, and make the best of the situation. Focus on other things. Bottle them up and fit into society to avoid a harsh road ahead. Because I am a coward like that.
Ultimately, male or female didn't matter when I made the wish. I was just so, so tired. Tired of feeling uncomfortable, depressed, and having low self esteem. Not feeling like that would've been fine, even if it was the result of some sort of whacky, God-powered mental compulsion. But I should've foreseen the Goddess of Mischief would've found making me female more interesting than the other option. Tinkering with my brain to have me think a specific way was probably less 'fun' than putting me in a new situation.
But what the hell, Nex!? Not really sure that having red-skin is going to be conducive to avoiding the whole body dysmorphia problem. What if I end up hating this one just as much? I stick out like a sore thumb! Wasn't this counter intuitive? I was tempted to laugh, had it not been so unfunny.
It wasn't until a strong set of hands lifted my bottom half up and started wrapping my nethers in fabric that I realized Rag Lady was now clothing me. My weak resistance and noises faded away to begrudging acceptance. I would've needed underwear eventually, so it's not like I could go around in just a blanket forever. Doesn't mean I didn't feel humiliated. I was then unceremoniously wrapped back up in my blanket after Rag Lady judged it sufficient or whatever she did while looking it over. I'd turned into a proper baby burrito.
Big Green picked me up yet again and gently ruffled my hair. It felt nice, making my eyes close and roll back slightly in comfort. I was carried out of the room, Rag Lady following, then entered another. I heard children's voices and was soon greeted by a few pairs of eyes. Three children, two girls ages around 7 and a boy around 10, were looking at me curiously. It devolved into a staring contest as Big Green and Rag Lady spoke to them. Unfortunately, a big yawn resulted in me losing the match. I'd only been awake a handful hours at best but I was already feeling a nap coming on.
The children seemed much less horrified of me than the adults, which was a good thing. I already had enough mental baggage to sort through for an entire year. I really didn't want to add traumatizing small kids to the list.
There were a few desks in the medium-sized room, along with two cribs. One of which was already occupied. I soon found myself taking up residency in the other, its foot-high walls appearing especially looming to my diminished size. The school-aged children sat at their desks, at which point Rag Lady sat at another at the front and began to do what I assume was teach or lecture them on something. I tried to really pay attention to the words she was saying and see if I could make sense or patterns out of them, but their quiet chatter quickly became too much and I found myself drifting off to unpleasant thoughts, followed by bizarre dreams.