Dissonant

I hesitantly raised my hand, watching as the unfamiliar girl in the mirror did the same. She lifted her arm in the exact same way, opened and closed her hand in the same way, and started turning her head as I looked off toward the doorway apprehensively.

Was this girl really… me?

She looked… hesitant, gripping her sleeves as if she was hugging herself. Her eyes had this wariness to them, and the two fluffy ears on her head were folded back like a startled animal that was ready to bolt at any moment. 

It was only as I felt my sleeves pull, the coarse material rubbing uncomfortably against my skin, that it hit me.

This really was me… this girl that I saw in the mirror. What did that drip do to me?

I leaned forward, staring closer at the girl’s face… my face. Where my cheeks were usually filled with coarse, stiff stubble that felt like it spiked my hands every time I tried to shave it, her cheeks were clear. I ran my fingers along them, still in disbelief.

Her… no, my cheeks were so smooth, and… soft, though a few beads of sweat still rolled down them. With the sun so bright, and the days so warm, it was easy to overheat, especially with how dark my hair was.

Except… now, my hair had changed colour dramatically. Instead of the dull, ashen brown that seemed to hold no shine at all, my hair had turned a sharp golden red, which stood out against the dark, hardwood walls of Colette’s home. And sticking out of the orange hair, which was still tied back in the same ponytail that I usually had, were the two, fluffy ears.

Reaching up, I hesitantly squeezed the end of one ear between my fingers, flinching as I felt the pinch. These really were my ears now… With my hair tied back, I could see that my previous ears had completely vanished from the sides of my head. 

The fur around the base of the ears looked to be almost the same vibrant orange as my hair, though they gradually faded to black at the tips. They almost looked like the ears of a fox, though I’d only seen a few foxes around the village before. Every so often there’d be one brave enough to try to get into the chicken coops, for example.

I froze as a strange, worrying thought suddenly popped into my head. Wait… did that drip make me half animal?

It wasn’t just the ears that seemed fox-like, either. Dangling from my lower back was a long, fluffy tail, and the colours of the fur on it matched my ears, save for the white tip at the end. Looping my arm around the new appendage, I lifted it up... I could feel it.

I… had a tail now. I was a girl, and I had two fluffy ears, and an even fluffier tail. What was going on with me?

And the strange tingling I had felt just minutes earlier was starting to seem like it was settling down. Was this… permanent? Even though I had thought about if I would be... happier as a girl... Was it really okay for me to stay like this? What would Colette think? Or Alvin, or… Dad, for that matter? Would I really be able to stay in the village like this?

“Matty?” Colette’s voice brought me back to the present as it echoed around the house. That’s right, I was... What was I even thinking? I was a boy, I was… I was Matty, just like how she called me. I wasn't some… girl I had never seen before, with these furry ears and tail. I was just… Matty. 

“Is everything okay? You ran off without saying anything,” she said, both her voice and her footsteps getting louder and louder. What was she going to think if she found me… looking like this? What would she do? My heart began to race as she got closer. 

I-I couldn’t, there was no way… no way I could stay like this. I had to turn back. That was what… everyone wanted. Dad, Alvin… With the monster around here, it wasn’t like I could run away anymore… I had to learn to fight, just in case. 

...I could turn back, right? As I listened to Colette’s footsteps approach the room I was in, I started to panic. What if I wasn’t able to control my… transformations? What if I was… stuck like this? I backed away from the closed door, almost pleading with myself to change back as I watched the doorknob twist, Colette’s footsteps having stopped just outside, and then…

My vision blanked for a moment, and then everything was back to normal. The light shining in through the seams in the closed window was no longer blindingly bright. The squeak of the doorknob turning was quiet, as was the creaking of the door as Colette gently pushed it open just a crack.

“Colette, I…” I began, my whole body seeming to unclench as I heard my old, deeper voice resonate around the room. Though I was relieved to hear that voice, the relief I felt seemed just a little bit… hollow.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, though she stayed just outside. “The door’s not locked, so…”

“Yeah, I…” My mind raced as I tried to think of an excuse. “I was just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

“Have you had enough to drink?” She weakly pushed the door open, her face showing the same worried expression I had seen so many times in the past. “You didn’t bring any water pouches… There are some filled ones in the kitchen, so you don’t have to drink from the bathroom tap.”

“Thank you, I’ll… I’ll have some and then get back to work.”

Colette didn’t move from the doorway, even as I approached to try to leave. As I got close, she took a few slow steps forward, reaching her hand up to place it on my forehead.

“You’ve done enough work today,” she said, placing her other hand on her own forehead. “It’s hot outside and you’re already burning up. Take a break to rest inside.”

*     *     *     *     *

“You’re early.” Alvin lifted himself off the back wall of the house as I got close. “Were you that excited to get goin’ with training?”

I fell in step alongside him as he started walking, making for the shed situated in the middle of the village. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I guess not.”

No, I wasn’t excited, I was just bored of sitting around. Colette had confined me to her living room until it was time for me to leave, and even then, she wouldn’t let me go unless I took at least two of the water pouches that she’d prepared.

“Where are we going?” I asked, handing off one of the pouches to Alvin.

He nodded, taking off the cap and upending the pouch as he gulped down water. Once he had finished, he pointed at an inconspicuous shed just in front of us. “We need some weapons.”

“Weapons?”

“You’ve never held a sword, have you?” He slipped his arm through the strap attached to the pouch, slinging it over his shoulder. “Dad never got far enough with your trainin’ to give you a weapon, and… knowin’ him, he’d probably try to give you some huge sword you couldn’t even wield, saying you’d grow into it or somethin’.”

As we passed some of the other villagers on the way to the shed, a few of them waved at Alvin. Some of the others held up their swords as if to challenge him, and the rest… stared at me with a mix of surprise and suspicion across their faces.

“I’ve got a few ideas for what weapons you could use, but I wanted to get your opinions first. You’re goin’ to be the one usin’ them, after all, so—”

“Finally takin’ yer bro out t’ teach ‘im t’ fight?” A taller guy from the group suddenly threw his arm around Alvin’s shoulder. “‘S about time, don’tchya think?”

“Ben…” Alvin groaned, slumping forward as the blonde, shaggy-haired guy jostled him.

I’d seen Ben around a few times before, while I was helping out with the harvests. Though he was older than me, he’d often end up being forced to help out as well, though he seemed so self-centred and unreliable that he was barely ever entrusted with any of the vegetables.

“He’s not much t’ speak of, is ‘e?” Ben ducked around in front of us, walking backwards and pretending to stroke an invisible beard as he inspected me. “I’d ‘ve expected ‘im to take after you ‘n the bear, but he looks like he’s hardly seen the light of day!”

“Just ignore him,” Alvin whispered, glaring at Ben.

“Is ‘e gonna fight wi’ a slingshot or somethin’?” Ben flicked his gaze over to Alvin, seemingly unaffected by his thousand-yard stare. “That ain’t gonna do much against a monster, or against bandits, ya know? If ‘e ever ventures out o’ the village” — he leaned his head back as if to stare off into what might be — “is ‘e gonna need a whole bunch o’ guards or someth—”

Ben’s voice abruptly cut off as he walked backwards into the wall of the weapon shed, his head crashing into it with a loud thud. He crumpled to his knees, holding his head with hands.

“Serves him right,” Alvin mumbled, completely unsympathetic as he walked past.

*     *     *     *     *

“Was it… really okay to just leave him out there?”

“He’ll be fine.” Alvin pored over the wall of weapons in front of us, his usual joviality notably absent. “You’ve seen how dense he is, right? His skull’s probably thick as rock.”

His eyes narrowed as he walked alongside the wall, only inspecting each of the wooden swords hanging up on the pegs for the briefest of moments, before moving on to the next one.

To say this shed was full of weapons would be an understatement. It was bursting with them, from the centrepiece, the wall on which all different kinds of wooden swords were mounted, to the shelves on either side which held stocks of all of them, to the piles of worn, bent, and battered training swords all haphazardly left next to the entrance. 

“You’ve never been here, have you?” Alvin asked, pausing from looking over the wall of swords to glance at me.

“N-no… This is the first time.” This shed was where all the hotheaded guys hung out, and… I’d had too many experiences like the one with Ben to be comfortable around any of them. They all seemed so brutish, like the only thing they cared about was fighting and getting stronger.

…Though Dad had tried to drag me here a few times before.

“You know those trees that Dad and all those older guys chop down? This is where most of them end up.” Alvin gestured at the weapons scattered all around us. “We don’t get many monsters here, so we make sure we’re ready to keep the village safe by sparring each other.”

“‘S a time-honoured tradition!” Ben’s slightly wobbly voice echoed around the shed as he staggered inside. “Al, dude, that was mean, y’know?”

“Lay off my brother.” Alvin’s powerful glare had returned, a side of him I had never seen before today.

“Why? ‘S not of’en we get new guys ‘round ‘ere. An’ y’ve been all secretive an’ wishy washy, tryin’ ta hide ‘im.” Ben looked down at me, his expression twisting into one of contempt. “T’ think the scrawny kid the guys ’ave been seein’ ‘round the place, the one hangin’ out wi’ all the oldies, he was your bro?”

I ducked behind Alvin, wanting nothing more than to run away into the forest. This was what I was afraid of… My hands started to shake, and I backed up against the wall behind Alvin.

“Y’know you’ve worked with Matty before, right?” Alvin spun around, reaching over me to pick two wooden swords off the wall. “He’s that kid that always does three times the amount of work than you in the fields.”

“Seriously?” Ben shouted. “He’s th’ reason pops always calls me a slacker?”

Alvin tossed one of the swords towards him, gripping the other and shifting into a battle stance.

Then he pointed it towards Ben, as if daring the boy to disagree. “Even if he hasn’t fought up until now, he’s absolutely not dead weight.”

The moment that the other sword settled into Ben’s hand, Alvin rushed towards him.

*     *     *     *     *

“Again… was it really okay for you to just attack him like that?”

Once we had walked into the forest surrounding the village, and were out of earshot of anyone else, I posed the question that had been sitting on my mind since we were at the shed.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” Alvin replied, seeming remarkably nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

“It’s fine?!” The three wooden swords I was holding against my chest rattled as I shouted. “I thought you were gonna kill him or something!”

“With a wooden sword?” Alvin laughed, slowing down to ruffle my hair as we moved further into the forest. “These things aren’t sharp or heavy enough to do anythin’ other than give you a bruise.”

“But still, you just… attacked him out of nowhere.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said, dropping his water pouch by a tree. “You saw how those guys were wavin’ their swords at me? While we were walkin’ to the shed?”

I nodded, depositing the wooden swords along with my water pouch at the base of the same tree. 

“We... uhh, we have this thing we do,” he said, a little guiltily. “All the guys are in on it... If someone’s holdin’ a wooden sword, they’re fair game.”

I stared wide-eyed at the small pile of wooden swords I had just dropped. 

“That’s why I wanted you to be the one carryin’ the swords.” Alvin patted my back reassuringly. “If you were holdin’ all three, we’d be fine.”

“I’m so glad we’re in the forest,” I said, shuddering as I thought back to how many people were hanging around the village. Ben was bad enough, so if all of them were watching me train for the first time…

“Yup. Here we’ll be able to practice in peace.”

*     *     *     *     *

We spent the next little while going over the basics of sword combat, with Alvin guiding me on how to hold the two practice weapons he had picked out for me.

“Why two?” I’d asked, picking one of the smaller swords from the pile.

He’d picked up the third, larger sword, twirling it around as he adjusted his grip and took a few practice swings. “You’re a lot smaller, so I figure usin’ a couple daggers might be better for you. You know, rather than havin’ to lift a shield, or a two-handed sword, or somethin’.”

Feeling a little awkward and unsure of what I was doing with the dagger I was holding, I’d looked between his hand and mine, and tried to replicate his grip. Something about it had still felt… off, somehow. No one else in the village used daggers, as they’d all opted for big swords, so I had no idea how I was meant to hold them… or use them, for that matter.

“Anyway,” my brother had said, coming to my rescue. “Let’s get you in a comfy grip, huh?”

A bit later, with his advice and a bit of swinging it around, I was feeling a bit more comfortable with the wooden dagger. Once I’d begun to feel that way, Alvin had then encouraged me to pick up the second dagger and swing that around too.

Once I’d gotten used to that... Though I definitely hadn’t become good, especially compared to someone like Alvin, with a little bit of genuine practice I felt like I was starting to get the hang of it. 

Of course, once I felt comfortable the second time, Alvin had stopped taking practice swings with his own wooden sword, saying, “Those don’t have much weight to them, so ideally you won’t be takin’ large swings like I am with this.” He stretched his shoulders, twisting from side to side to loosen up. “You’ll be more goin’ for stabs than swipes. Can I borrow one for a bit?”

I held one out to him, handle first, and he took it and spun it around his fingers faster and more fluidly than I would’ve thought was possible. My eyes wide, I realised... he wasn’t just good at his two-handed sword, he knew what he was doing with these, too. For another moment I felt way out of my depth. I had no idea how he’d managed that action.

“Stand by my side and hold the dagger like this,” he said, and held out the weapon, demonstrating the stance. “Your footwork is going to be important, too — gotta keep in mind the balance of your body, the position of your feet, the way you grip your weapon...”

“It’s so complicated...” I mumbled, then almost stumbled against a tree root as my shoes slipped on the grass. “There’s so much that goes into it.”

And in the repetitiveness of the motions, my mind had started to wander, our trip to the crypt surfacing in my memories. I had thrown… fire at that monster, somehow. If I could do that again, would I even need to go through with all this training?

Alvin chuckled, ruffling my hair again with his free hand. “You’ll get better. Don’t worry. And, hey, there you go, your stance looks good now!”

Making sure that I was watching him, he demonstrated a few stabs, and helped walk me through them. “Yep, good, good, and don’t forget to stay balanced as you do that one...” “And here’s how you’d do a feint...” “Woah, you don’t want to fall, I keep telling you you’ve gotta stay balanced. Put your foot out a bit further when you stab forward like that... Yeah, perfect!”

My focus started to waver again, sweat dripping down my brow. With this… Dad would get off my back about training, right? I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about him trying to drag me out for it?

Idly rubbing my upper arm, I shook my head and tried to refocus, dutifully continuing to follow the movements Alvin was demonstrating. But try as I might, his voice was fading into the background against the thoughts that seemed deafening in my head.

I had enough on my plate already, didn’t I? Figuring out what was going on with my… weird transformations. Alvin had already seen me like that, but the idea of changing in front of anyone else seemed terrifying. But, on the other hand…

Could I fight like that? If I could figure out how to… throw fire like that, would I be a better fighter? Would Dad finally stop going on about training, and strength, and manliness, and everything else he endlessly preached about? Would I—

“Hey, watch it!” 

Halfway through a practice swing, my foot caught on a tree root. I stumbled forward, the daggers dropping out of my hands as I swung my arms around wildly, trying not to fall.

“Matty!” he shouted, reaching forward. He tightly grabbed my upper arm, pulling me forward.

The same place Dad used to grab when he dragged me outside.

Everything went white as a jolt of buzzing, burning heat ran through my body. Old memories and new memories alike flashed through my head in an instant, along with a single thought.

I had to get away.

I swiped at Alvin, twisting my body as I frantically tried to pull away.

His grip on my arm suddenly released, and I fell back onto my rear, panting and wheezing as my heart raced. My vision slowly began to clear, the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind breaking me out of my daze. That’s right, I was… in the forest…

…What did I just do?

“Matty, you’re…” Alvin’s voice was shaky as he stood over me, his wooden sword dropped at his feet.

His brown shirt was torn around his stomach, a few still-blue bruises now visible around the hand he held against his skin. A slow red drip ran down from under his fingers, trailing down his body.

“Alvin, a–are you okay?” I asked, my own hands shaking uncontrollably.

“You’re… different, again…” Alvin wheezed, hunching forward. “You’re still… you’re still Matty, right?”

His hands dropped limply to his sides, revealing four red gashes on his stomach.

“I…” My voice caught in my throat as I looked down at myself.

A few thin splatters of blood stained my shirt, leaving clouds of red dots soaking into the fabric across my front. And hanging from the ends of my fingers were a few shreds of brown cloth, pierced through by bloodstained claws.