Waking up when the mage-light in his room started brightening with dawn, Stanton yawned and pushed his way out of bed. The covers were just as soft and pillowy as ever and his sharp memory reminded him that they had become a new color every bit as annoying as it told him he was now female.

"You're awake? Aren't you meant to hide under the covers or forget that you're now a magical girl, become late for school, and then rush to get things to—HEY!" Angel had to duck the crackling bolt of lightning Stanton shot her way. "What was that for?"

"Whatever you were doing, I want no part in it. I get up early, at dawn, every day. I clean myself and plan my wardrobe and—What are you laughing at?"

"What did you do to your hair?!" Rolling around on the bed in laughter, Angel had to jerk upright again to get another glimpse of the mess Stanton's locks were in. "Wait!" she cried when he started to stomp toward the door that led to the bathroom. "I can help if you want?"

Pausing on his quest to establish a new morning routine in the ashes of his old one, Stanton sighed. "Okay, but remember what I want?"

"To look as girly and cute as possible so you can find a big, cute guy?"

"Right. Take that thought and do the exact opposite. I'll call you when I'm ready for you to do my hair." Heading into the bathroom, he spent the next twenty minutes washing and inspecting himself. His bone structure hadn't changed, nor had his muscles altered too much. He'd always had a compact and tight musculature. He had curves, though. Curves he tried to avoid admitting looked good.

After drying off, he wrapped a towel around himself and walked out of the bathroom—only to have Angel shriek at him. "What?"

Holding a paw over each eye, Angel wavered between preserving Stanton's modesty and gesticulating wildly at him. "Cover yourself up!"

Pausing a moment to take-in the situation, Stanton shook his head and headed for the wardrobe. "I don't get you, Angel. You're a wolf, right?"

"Yes, I'm a wolf, and I'm always right." Peeking and seeing Stanton's back to her, Angel launched herself off the bed and flew through the air after him. "So?"

"So, why do you care what's on display?" Aligning himself with the drawer that held the underthings his body now, apparently, needed, Stanton started looking through them for something that would keep at least two of his problems close to his chest.

"I have fur to cover things. When you power-up, you have fur to cover things. Right now you don't!" Angel had to cover her eyes when Stanton turned around again—which resulted in her colliding with the wall and bouncing into the row of big dresses. Confused, panicked, and restrained in several feet of frilly dress, she panicked until Stanton freed her. "Thanks!"

"If there's no one to see, it doesn't matter." Stanton turned back to his choices and eventually just pulled out and rearranged the drawer to be in order of size. He grabbed the smallest and pulled it on. "Besides, I'm not a girl."

Her vision now no longer needing to be obscured randomly, Angel flew up to hover before Stanton. "I don't know if you've looked, but you sort-of are."

"Not in the most important way—the way that matters." Stanton gave a nod to the almost-flat image of himself in the mirror and turned from the girly things to his own clothes. A shirt was all for the moment, and when he checked in front of the mirror, his chest was barely noticeable.

He picked out a pair of men's shorts, a pair of trousers, and a belt to keep it all in place. He was more than happy to find the belt over his hips was even more effective now than before. "Perfect. A vest, jacket, and robes will make me impossible to detect."

Ignoring the sighs and groans from Angel, Stanton put on his best vest, topped up the pockets and loops on it with ingredients for spells, put on a jacket and finally swung his robes around his shoulders. "Okay, Angel, now you can do my hair. Some rules, though."

"Rules? This is art, not—not whatever you think it is! A girl's hair is her life!"

"Remember what I said earlier about being a girl?" Stanton was having way too much fun. "Okay, so no pigtails, ponytails, or tails of any sort. You can braid it if you want, but only one long braid is acceptable. Okay, Angel, knock yourself—"

Angel lifted her paw, pointed at Stanton, cocked one finger and then "released" it.

A wave of magic hit Stanton in the back. His hair became a cascade of brown tresses, lifted and tied in places so it looked like an actual waterfall down his back. He stared at it, more than a little amazed at the quality of her work. "Hey, that looks really good. Do you want to know the best bit?"

Feeling a burst of glee at managing to make Stanton look cute, Angel shook her head.

"I'll just tell them you did it. You're my familiar, after all, and that means you can express yourself as much as you want—but I have a rule." Ignoring Angel's look of annoyance, Stanton continued. "Just don't tell anyone I'm a girl." He adjusted his robes and let his hair fall within their confines.

"I…" Angel tapped her chin with one paw, then brightened up. "I can do that! I won't breathe a word of you being a girl!"

Relaxing a bit more, Stanton smiled and reached out his arm to pull Angel into a hug. "See? We can do this together if we both make some compromises."

Content with the hug, Angel gave Stanton a pat on the back as he carried her outside his home. "Compromises!" She grinned at all the people walking past the home, but they seemed to ignore Stanton and her as they walked along—though she heard the ones behind Stanton chuckling.

"Hey! Stanton! Who put this on you?" Cassandra walked past Stanton and grabbed the piece of paper stuck to his back. "Someone thinks you're a girl, apparently."

Taking the sheaf of paper from his friend, Stanton read the crayon words. "'I'm totally a girl'?" He looked at Angel with a raised eyebrow.

"I said I wouldn't breathe a word of it." Angel smirked, then turned her full attention to Cassandra. "Hi! I'm Angel!"

"Stanton? Wait, you got your familiar last night?!" Cassandra reached up to her shock of shoulder-length blue hair and swept it to the side, revealing a slightly-pointed ear on the right side of her head. "No way! Weren't you trying for a pegacerberus?"

"Pfft! Pregnant whatever-ya-callums are not half as good as me!" Angel flew out of Stanton's grip and hovered in front of Cassandra, looking in the half-elf's eyes and planting her fists on her hips. "Could a preg—one of those things—do this?"

Cassandra didn't have a chance to put up any warding or shield, and she certainly wasn't prepared for the impact of so much magic into her. It crackled through her body and focused on her head. Her hair, cut short due to how dangerous it could be if a lightning mage let it grow long, suddenly exploded and became a trellis for pink and yellow flowers that cascaded down her back. "What the twelve hells was that?!"

"You can thank me later." Angel floated back over to Stanton's shoulder and sat down on it.

"Sorry, Cass, she kinda has this thing for long hair. I have resigned myself to a new and horrible fate." Twisting his head a little and reaching back, Stanton freed his own hair from his cloak and showed it off. "She has this thing. She thinks everyone should look so pretty all the time. Even keeps calling me a girl."

"Aww, well, she is kinda cute." Reaching out a hand, Cassandra gave Angel a rub on the ears. "I tell you what, Angel? Right, Angel. You can do my hair every day."

Eyes widening, Angel leaned into the attention. "See, Stanton, this is how you should treat me."

Laughing, Cassandra picked up Angel and cuddled her. "You are the perfect familiar for him. Ugh, he gets so—so up himself sometimes. It's like two of the biggest and oldest noble lines decided to make themselves an offspring that combined the snootiness of arch-magi and the self-aggrandizing nature of werewolves into one, perfectly snooty and self-aggrandizing person."

"You forgot overconfident," Stanton said.

"Oh! Of course. Snooty, self-aggrandizing, and overconfident." Cassandra laughed without a care. "This outfit is adorable, Angel. Maybe you should pass-on some fashion tips to Stanton too?"

"I tried! She had an entire, huuuuuge wardrobe full of the most amazing ball gowns, dresses, skirts, and frilly blouses!" Angel rolled over in Cassandra's arms, the new position practically demanding a tummy-rub.

"I soon put a stop to that," Stanton said. "She has the craziest notions, Cass, but—but we came to a deal. You should see how much power she amplifies me with!"

Surrendering to the inevitable, Cassandra scratched at Angel's tummy with her dexterous fingers. "I know we have a week left to get our familiars, but I need advice, Stanton. What do you think I should do? I tried for a lightning elemental, but it just didn't work out. Little bastard tried to electrocute me and I had to short it out."

"Well, I mean, we could try getting you a drakeling?" They were halfway to the academy now, but well and truly early. "Would that be good for you?"

Flashing her silver eyes at Stanton, Cassandra froze in place. "A drakeling? You think I could handle one?"

"Cass, you could handle five—whether the city would still exist a month later is a whole other question. Come on, I haven't had breakfast yet." Walking forward, Stanton approached the little street stall vendor. "Got anything to warm me up?"

"Of course! Of course! Flatbread, cheese, and poor-man's chicken!" Holding out a shred of paper wrapped around a wedge of flatbread hollowed out, the vendor dumped a scoop of reddish meat and poured another scoop of yellowish melted cheese over it. In the process of doing so, he slipped Stanton a second small piece of paper, took the coins offered, and then repeated the process for Cassandra—without the secret message, of course.

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Familiar with the fine arts of both pick-pocketing and sleight of hand, Stanton slipped the note safely into a vest pocket without anyone being the wiser. "Thank you!"

The house of Sharptooth was an old noble line that had clawed its way to prominence, literally, through the soldiery of the empire. Werewolves were fine fighters, nearly unkillable, and thus could turn their minds toward the finer arts of warfare—and rise to leadership. From there, several had ascended to another plane of warfare in politics. Securing titles and becoming the backbone of the military had seen Sharptooth become indispensable to the empire.

Stanton was, on his mother's side, half werewolf and thus, fully a Sharptooth. He had obligations to the family—the pack.

There was a hitch, though.

The duchy of Raveel was small, but contained more wizard towers per capita than any other region in the empire. When the emperor had a problem and magic was involved, it was the Duchess of Raveel that he summoned.

Stanton was, on his father's side, a direct descendant of the current duchess' line—he was presently seventeenth in line for the duchy. This meant he was obligated to the Raveel family, to further their agendas in the same way he did Sharptooth's.

That was the hitch. It was always the hitch. Generally, he could undertake the little requests of both families with ease, though sometimes his requests ran counter to each other. He couldn't negotiate what he would or wouldn't do, but he could make the best of bad situations.

"This stuff is so good. I can't believe it's so cheap." Cassandra devoured the street food with vigor, the flavor of rich fish and sharp cheese providing a boost to her mood. "A drakeling… I gotta try it."

The feel of a small hand reaching into a pocket of his coat almost made Stanton jump. The pick-pocket was inches away from discovering his latest secret. He didn't intercept the thief, nor even call attention to them. Instead, he waited until their hand was gone and checked the previously empty pocket—there was a slip of paper in it.

It was going to be a two-mission day. "You're handling Angel pretty well, I'm sure a slathering and vicious drakeling should be a pushover."

Lifting her head, trying to force her thoughts past the bliss she was experiencing, Angel barely managed to poke her tongue out at Stanton.

"Angel? She's a perfect little sweetie, aren't you?" Holding her half-eaten breakfast down for Angel, Cassandra offered her a bite. "Hungry?"

Nibbling at the food, Angel made a happy little squeak at how good it tasted.

----------------------------------------

The orders from his families had been, in the end, remarkably simple. The letter from the Sharptooth house, written in his mother's compact handwriting, had simply told Stanton, "Good luck on your new year." And the one from his Raveel lineage was likewise from his father, though written by his father's scribe, "May great portents be revealed."

Each year, or so Stanton had found, the first day of school was paperwork. Classes to sign up for, extra-curricular activities to join, and a social calendar to navigate. The fortunate thing was that someone adept at filling out paperwork could get through it all by early afternoon, and Stanton had become very good at paperwork.

Skipping out on the rest of the day, Stanton started walking home with only Angel to keep him company.

"Don't you have to stay in school all day?" Angel asked.

"This is a magic academy, not letters and numbers. We learn as much as we can while there and are expected to study further on our own. Right now I want to get somewhere safe so I can test the extent of my magical power." It hadn't been easy. All day Stanton had felt his magic humming in excitement to do something. "I figure I'll just use a teleport to get out in the middle of the forest and see wha—"

His explanation was cut short by a loud boom in the sky above them. Looking up, Stanton saw a red hunk of rock with a tail of fire winging its way toward him at incredible speed. With reflexes born of his half-werewolf nature, Stanton dove into an alleyway to avoid the huge rock that seemed intent on treating him how a pestle treats herbs.

"Stanton, quick, take your wand!" Angel pulled the wand out from behind her back and held it out to him.

"What? Why? It's just a—"

"Finally!" A deep, growling voice called from the street. "Freed from my thousand years of slumber, I am here to destroy all that is good!"

"Take the wand and say the oath, quick!" Angel hovered in front of Stanton, holding out the wand to him.

"I—" Taking the wand in his hand, Stanton felt like the whole world was paying attention to him—watching him and waiting for him to say, "B-By the shining light of goodness." A shiver ran through him and that feeling of being watched now turned into cheering. "And with the power of virtue!"

It was what the world wanted him to say. Power rushed to Stanton like water over a spillway. Blinding light illuminated the alley as his clothes disappeared and swirling ribbons worked furiously to maintain his modesty.

"By the purity of my f-feminine charms! I call on my wand of power to protect the world!" The ribbons attacked him from every direction, flaring bright and reforming into the same outfit his wand had bestowed him with last time.

The final change, as the white light had turned pink, was for his fuzzy tail to stretch out from under the skirt behind him, his muzzle to form in front of his face, and for everything in between to become fuzzy.

"There you are!"

Feeling his ears swivel around at the shout, Stanton turned his head to look at the monster that radiated fury and violence at him. And then he froze.

It stood about four feet tall and looked like a pig with a demonic pair of wings, horns, and wielding a tiny pitchfork. A pitchfork that it held up and pointed the tines in Stanton's direction. "You made this too easy, Super Lupine Girl!" With the last word, a three-fold beam of purple-black magic rushed toward his target.

Every hair on Stanton's body stood up at that and he could see every flex of the muscles in the demonic pig's little foreleg. It honestly took his brain far longer to realize the threat than his body did, but the moment it did he was moving to the side at a magic-enhanced speed that left his skirt fluttering. "You missed."

Stanton spotted Angel to one side, wearing a cloth mask over her face. "Angel?" he asked.

"I—I'm not Angel. Who is Angel? I don't know anyone with that name! I am Wolfette, the faithful sidekick and companion to Super Lupine Girl!" Angel brandished her own magic wand—which looked suspiciously like a wooden-headed sledgehammer.

"Sure, whatever. I'll deal with that late"—Stanton jumped to the side again as the demon-pig sent another blast his way—"er. How do I beat him, uh, Wolfette?"

"You can't. He's going to…" Angel Wolfette trailed off when Stanton ran up to the pig, while it was charging another blast, and punched in the face. He followed that up with a swift kick, and then while the pig was down he kicked its staff away. "Or, I guess, you could do that."

"Look what you did to these houses! Tell the shopkeeper here you're sorry!" Stanton was furious at the huge hole the pig's blast had carved out of the building. "Tell them!"

Crying as the magical girl beat it up, the pig squealed and whined out a quick apology. When some kind of little wolf flew out and got Super Lupine Girl's attention, the pig saw its chance and ran—grabbing its pitchfork on the way. "You'll pay for this, Super Lupine Girl!"

Turning to glare at the back of the retreating pig, Stanton had to restrain himself from charging after it. Calming down, he turned back to the shopkeeper. "Can I help fix it?" At the man's nod, Stanton looked at the destroyed section of wall and thought of the best way to fix it. The easiest would be to just call up stone to patch the hole, but that wouldn't look right. Instead, wanting to show off his new power a little, he focused on the bricks and the hole and reversed time around them.

Objects, small ones at least, were easy to reverse time on. The bigger and more solid the object, the harder and more magic-draining it became. It should have taken an immense amount of magic to repair the wall, and it did, but for Stanton it was a drop in the bucket now. Flooding the wall and spell with magic, he repaired the hole to a moment before it was destroyed.

Wheezing and squeaking as it ran, the Evil Pig of Evil muttered under its breath that it could totally have beaten Super Lupine Girl in a fair fight. It was running so fast, without looking, that it charged right into someone's leg. "Who dares stand in the way of—of…" Looking up and up, Evil Pig of Evil stared at the tall woman and could sense her desire for power.

"Sorry I—" Closing her mouth with a snap, Cassandra crouched down to the pig and examined it a little closer. Power was practically pouring off it, flooding the ground and area around it in magic. "What are you?"

"I am the porcine master of power! I feel the hunger for strength echoing in your blood. Hold out your hand and I will ignite the spark within you, for your loyalty." The speech dripped in gravitas. A contract of binding and freedom in one. "You will have a new form and the power to do with it what you will. Do you accept it?"

"Wait, are you like a familiar or something?" Leaning back on her heels a little, Cassandra used her magic sight to examine the pig-demon. It seemed to have a core of magic—a lot of magic—but it wasn't synchronized well with its current form. The tiny coil of excitement every wizard got when offered power buzzed through her. "You know what, lay it on me."

"You must choose the form of your power. Pick wisely, my minion, for it will manifest whenever you deploy my power."

It was as much as telling her she was getting a familiar. Her mind raced and she wanted to push herself. "Dragon. If I want a form for my power, screw a minor drake—I'll take a dragon."

Eyes aglow with lightning, the Evil Pig of Evil held aloft its "mighty trident" and called forth a spark—a fragment of its power—twisted it toward draconic ends, and shot it into Cassandra. Then it vanished.

Panting, feeling like she'd just had a mountain worth of magic shoved inside her, Cassandra knelt on the cobblestones in confusion. There were dozens of questions she wanted answers to, not the least of which being, What the heck just happened?!

"Cass?" Stanton said, though Wolfette shoved a paw in his mouth before he could get more than the C out.

"You're Super Lupine Girl, remember?" Wolfette whispered.

Stanton gasped, spat out a wolf paw, and cleared his throat. "Young wizard, do you require my assistance?"

Looking up at the most prettily-dressed werewolf she'd ever seen, Cassandra felt a weird kind of attraction to her. "I—I think that odd pig did something to me. Thanks." The moment her hand felt the hand-paw of the werewolf, however, Cassandra felt a stab of shock.

ENEMY! Cassandra heard, thudding in her blood. NEMESIS!

"Uh, if you're okay, I really need to find out where that damn pig went. Did you see which way it went?" Cassandra's grip on his paw-hand was crushing. Stanton barely managed to pull away from her and break the contact.

"The—The Evil Pig of Evil?" The name had jumped into Cassandra's head, but from where she had no idea. With the warnings in her blood, Cassandra pointed toward the nearest city gate. "I think it ran that way."

"Thanks!"

Watching the werewolf run off, all that Cassandra could think of was the flashes of pink panties. It lasted until she realized that the werewolf girl was not her friend. If there was something she could now utterly depend on, she knew, it was that the werewolf would have attacked her if she'd known the deal Cassandra had just made with. "The Evil Pig of Evil…"

Running away from his friend—and hoping she didn't recognize him—Stanton looked to the side to Angel. "Thanks for—Okay, just thanks. You're being a real help this time, and I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Super Lupine Girl." Angel did a little spin in the air. "The pig didn't come this way, though. I think he vanished somewhere near Cass."

"Probably used her to throw me off. Well, I guess we are done here, Wolfette?" Stanton looked around, seeing the usual crowds walking along the street.

"We could have caught him if you hadn't stopped to fix the guy's wall." Even in her own heart, the words rang hollow to Wolfette. She sighed. "You did good, though. Beat up the bad guy and helped the good guys."

"I'll take that as a yes." Walking into an alley, Stanton spent a moment stretching his senses and couldn't feel anyone watching him. "Hey, wand, you were great back there, but I need to go back to normal and—can you put me back in the clothes I was wearing before?"

The wand pulsed its power in Stanton's paw-hand, and in a wave of pink light he felt the reassuring feeling of his robes, shirt, and proper underwear again. He sighed in relief and looked over at Angel. "You should probably take the mask off now."

Working hard to keep a straight face, Angel took her mask off and tucked it away behind her back, along with the hammer. "It was the best I could do under the circumstances."

"Yeah, I get it. Okay, let's go see if Cass still wants to do her summoning tonight." Stepping toward the mouth of the alley, Stanton looked out to make sure he wasn't going to bump into anyone before entering the street.

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This story is released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. If you are paying money to see this or the original creator, Damaged, is not credited, you are viewing a plagiarized copy of the story.