Her True Form

“It’s… very…” Yvette said, trying to think of the right word to say she despised it, without actually saying that.

Betan nodded. “There is no need to say how thankful you are,” he said with a light chuckle.

“Of course,” she said, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. She glanced to her master, who was wearing her bag over his shoulder. She then glanced towards the robe one last time. It was a journeyman’s robe. The key problem was that it was definitely a male’s robe. While, in theory the garments could be worn by either gender, there were rules that most apparel tended to follow. In this case, the cut of the robe and, more importantly, the design. Girl’s were often made of gentle sky blue linen with a soft, gentle trim of wool. This robe, on the other hand, was such a dark blue it was almost black, without a single marking or trim. Unlike the apprentice robes she had been wearing, these were looser robes, with breeches, belt and a tunic that were worn under them.

“Well? Go put it on, Tebaud!”

She nodded, giving another glance towards her bag. She couldn’t believe he was going to make her walk out of town as a male. Worse, as Tebaud. Once again she felt her frustration grow, but she buried it down. The moment she was out of sight, she’d grab her more feminine clothing from the bag. While they’d be considerably less comfortable to travel in than the linen robe, she’d alter these garments herself later if she had to.

Swallowing her frustration, she instead turned and walked behind the privacy screen of her room, stripping out of her robe and down to just her undergarments. Then, with a soft sigh, she began to slide the tunic and breeches on.

The fabric was soft against her skin, comfortable. It felt lighter, yet still blocked out the cool air of the castle. Even when she slid the robe on the entire ensemble felt lighter than her old robe, yet somehow she felt more protected. None of it made her itch, either.

However, once she stepped from behind the screen, her heart sank when she saw herself in the mirror. This ensemble had been perfectly crafted for her. But it had been made to make her look like a boy. She would have given almost anything to have been able to slide back into her apprentice robes, scratchy as they were. The blue made her look taller, her shoulders look broader. The garments didn’t flow, instead seeming to weigh against her as if she was a statue. The more she stared, the more she hated what she saw.

“That’ll do, my boy. You look like a proper mage, now. I have one last gift for you,” he said before reaching into his own robe and pulling out a sheathed dagger. He pulled the blade out just a few inches, showing the gleaming metal. She took it and stared blankly. “It’s a dagger. You run the belt through the hole in the sheath. Always keep it by your side, trust me. The time will come when you will be thankful you did.”

She nodded dimly, staring at the blade for a few moments. Her teacher stared at her expectantly and she gave a soft sigh, before undoing her belt and sliding the sheath into place. With the dagger at her side, it only made her look worse.

“You look incredible!” Ermina’s voice carried out from across the room and she looked up, seeing the other girl standing in the door frame. “See? I always told you that you made a much better guy. You should dress like this more often. The others are going to be so jealous they missed this,” she said, looking her up and down.

“Ermina, not now,” Yvette said softly, shaking her head. She would have been upset that none of the other students came to see her off, but she really wanted as few people to see her like this as possible.

“Come on. You’re so handsome, you look like a real noble.”

“Not NOW!” Yvette snapped, her eyes narrowing on the other student and making her take a step back.

“Tebaud!” Betan said firmly, making Yvette stand at attention. “I understand you are excited, but do not yell at my apprentice. You are a journeyman now, you need to maintain control.”

“Right. Sorry, Ermina,” Yvette muttered, shaking her head. She glanced once more at her reflection. Soon she would be out of town and she’d never have to wear these clothes again. She then glanced to the other girl and smiled. “Thank you for seeing me off,” she said, walking to the door, passing the girl on the way. This time she wasn’t caught by surprise when the other girl gave her a tight hug. For a moment, Yvette couldn’t help feeling sadness in her heart. It would be the last time she’d see Ermina for who knew how long, if ever. The pyromancer had been an apprentice to Betan almost as long as Yvette had and was the closest she had to a friend. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Ermina said, before pulling back. The younger girl had tears in her eyes, though they didn’t fall. “In a few months though, I’ll be leaving too. Perhaps on your travels we’ll see each other! It’ll be fun! If you come to my town I’ll make sure they have a feast prepared, okay? So don’t look so sad, okay?”

“Yeah, fun. Until then,” Yvette said, pulling back from the girl and starting down the hall. She could barely believe how excited she’d been this morning. Now it all felt bitter in her mouth. She tried to focus on the fact that, once she passed beyond the tower’s walls, she would be a journeyman. She could do as she pleased. Wear what she desired. If she just endured it for a little longer, she’d never have to wear these robes again.

“Good luck, Yvette!” Ermina called out after her, making her stumble.

She turned around and stared at Ermina. The two shared a smile and, with her head held high, she walked through the hall and down the steps of the tower. Once she stood in front of the main door, she took a deep breath and readied herself for what was about to come.

She was going to be a traveling journeyman. Her duties, her future, was important. She’d provide a valuable service to other travelers she met, as well as the villages she stopped at. However, the trip was dangerous. She’d have a bodyguard, selected by Betan.

Whoever it was would be waiting outside the door for her. It would likely be the first time they’d met. The last student who had left, almost seven years ago, had ended up leaving with a trader’s caravan, guarded by nearly a dozen warriors. But she’d been heading to a town with different needs. There was no telling who Yvette would meet. Nervously, she pushed open the door.

She stopped when she saw a man waiting for her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but the way he held himself made him seem far taller. He was standing beside a pair of horses, one a light brown with streaks of white, the other a dark red. The red horse had a quiver of arrows resting on its right side, with a helmet resting on top, the left side holding a narrow shield with a rounded top and a pointed bottom. His boots were strapped around his ankles, over tight breeches. However, from the knees up, most of his body was covered in a chainmail hauberk. He had gloves over both hands, however his left arm wore a leather guard up to the elbow, while his right wore a smaller metal bracer over the wrist. A sword was sheathed at his hip while a spear rested loosely in his right hand. As his helmet was resting over the quiver his head was uncovered, letting his short, red hair flow in the breeze. He turned to look at her, his eyes a light, soft blue.

“H-hello...” she said softly.

“Tebaud, I take it?” he asked. “Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me, don’t I? Anyone could take one look at you and tell what you are.”

“What?” Yvette asked, her heart pounding even faster. What terrible things had Betan told him about her? It was bad enough she’d spent her last day here being talked down to and having to leave like this, but now she was going to have to endure traveling with a partner who did nothing but ridicule her?

“You’ve got golden eyes, we used to call eyes like yours ‘mage’s eyes’ where I’m from. Only mages have eyes like that,” he said. “Not easy to hide.”

“Huh? Oh! Right, of course,” she said, feeling a little relief. He wasn’t mocking her, at least. Even if he did know her as Tebaud, once they were out she would explain everything. She hoped it would be possible to form a bit of tolerance between the two of them.

A cough from behind made her quickly turn around. Her master stood waiting. She gulped and stepped out, over the threshold, and turned. She was now a journeyman. Leaving the home she had known for most of her life.

“Now then… Tebaud, I hereby deem you worthy of the rank of journeyman,” Betan said, before lifting the bag from his side and handing it to her. “With that, I pass on all that you will need for your coming journey, both in knowledge and supply.” He then reached into his robe and pulled out a small, light brown bracer. “And for your long journey, the magic you will learn, I hereby grant you this journeyman’s focus. May it serve you well.”

She nodded and slid the bag over her shoulder, letting it hang lightly on her body. Then she took the bracer, sliding it on her right wrist. It was covered in small black dots. She placed her left hand on it, envisioning the correct alignment. A moment later, different dots appeared while others disappeared in the way she’d envisioned. Satisfied, she nodded. “Thank you, master. And when next we meet, may I be able to meet you as not just a mage, but as an equal.” She gave one last nod, before turning and walking away. It was done, now all she had to do was leave this behind.

Her bodyguard stepped forward, moved his spear to his left hand and held out his right. “Good to meet you, Tebaud. My name is Gervas. I’m sure we’ll get along well.” She wasn’t sure, but she swore she heard a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Yvette slowly reached out a hand to shake his. Her eyes widened when the man gripped her hand. He wasn’t much bigger than her, but it was obvious that he’d lived a far more physical life than her. His grip was so strong she was pretty sure if he’d wanted, he could have shattered her hand with ease. “I… hope so,” she said gently. “I’ll trust my life to your care.”

“Don’t worry, mage, I’m being adequately compensated for your protection. You won’t have to fight any of your own battles.”

Yvette paused, her eyes narrowing. She was now certain she heard annoyance.

“Do you know how to ride?” he asked, before swinging into the saddle of the red horse. He reached down, gripping the helmet and putting it on. She stared up at him and realized he was smirking at her.

She felt frustration grip her when she realized he was talking down to her. “I do,” she snapped, before gripping the edge of the saddle and tried to swing up with the same ease he had. Unfortunately, while she managed to get a foot in the stirrup, she misjudged the climb and crashed into the horse’s side, before toppling forward to land on her face, twisting her ankle in the stirrup. She gave a soft whimper, trying to focus on what hurt most. The burning pain in her ankle eventually beat out her face and pride.

“Are you okay?!” Gervas asked, before jumping down from his horse and moving to her side. “I thought you said you knew how to ride a horse?”

“I-I do…” Yvette mumbled, before trying to pull her ankle free from the stirrup. The pain that exploded from her foot was enough to make her scream and lights flash in the corner of her vision.

“Tebaud!” Betan yelled, stepping out into the courtyard.

Yvette’s face burned with shame. She couldn’t imagine a worse way to have started her adventure.

------

“It’s not that bad,” Gervas said. Sadly, all Yvette had to do was see that stupid grin on his face to know how hilarious he found all of this. “Lots of new mages sprain their ankles when trying to get on a horse. Just be thankful your master was there to help,” he said, trying to hold in his laughter.

She didn’t answer, she just slowly let the horse take them forward, the heavy clopping of the horse’s hooves helping to drown out her thoughts. She kept playing the scene over and over in her head. Her on the ground, in pain. Master Betan having to run over and healing her foot with a spell. Having to have Gervas practically toss her in the saddle because he didn’t trust her to do it on her own. She didn’t know how long they’d been trotting now, a few hours at least. There wasn’t much to mark the time, the road they were on merely skirting along the edge of the Fay Woods, with the opposite side fields of grass, weeds and occasionally, smaller trees. She felt sore and her body ached, but compared to the misery echoing through her soul that only seemed to grow, she barely noticed it.

“Come on, it’s not so bad. Listen, Tebaud--”

That was her breaking point. She couldn’t take it any more. She gripped the reins so tightly her hands were white. “STOP CALLING ME THAT!”

“Calling you what?” he asked.

“Tebaud! MY NAME ISN’T TEBAUD!” she yelled. “My name is YVETTE! CALL ME THAT!” She then tugged on her reins. The horse reared, nearly sending her flying off the mount’s back and it was only thanks to her death grip on the reins and a bit of luck that she managed to keep hold until it leveled out again.

Gervas was at her side a moment later, his hand reaching out to gently pat the horse on the head. “Easy Chestnut, easy. Easy now. That’s a good girl,” he whispered soothingly, before glancing to Yvette. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you said you knew how to ride? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

She clutched the reins, her heart pounding while she tried to calm herself down. Slowly, she turned towards him. “W-what? I...” she whispered, before stopping. “Call me Yvette.”

“What?”

“Call me Yvette,” she repeated, slower.

“I see,” he said, his voice dripping with annoyance. “That’s a girl’s name.”

“Yes. Don’t call me Tebaud. I hate that name.” She looked at the horse, before kicking her left leg out of the stirrup and sliding, less than gracefully, off its back. She almost fell over this time, but managed to barely remain standing, though her body ached all over. “Call me Yvette.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice filled with exasperation. “We’re not scheduled to stop for a few hours.”

“Don’t care,” she muttered, pulling her bag off her shoulder. She had been humiliated, insulted and nearly broken her ankle and the day wasn’t even half over. There was absolutely no way she was spending another second in these clothes. She opened her bag and stared inside. The bag was effectively the size of a small room, the contents spread out for ease of locating. She looked around it for a moment, before she felt her heart turn to ice. Her clothes were gone. All of them. Instead, she saw other clothes. Male clothes. Stacked neatly where her clothes were SUPPOSED to be. Her hands shook with a mix of anger and grief. She reached into the bag, the clothes moving to her hand before she threw them aside.

“Are you okay?” Gervas asked, staring at her.

“No, I’m not okay. How could he? I just… I...” She stared at the scattered clothes across the grass. She then shook her head. “FINE! I don’t care! I DON’T! I’LL FIX IT MYSELF!” she screamed.

“… Uhhhh, Tebaud? What--”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” she screamed again. She was a journeyman now. She could do as she pleased.

“Fine. ‘Yvette.’ Calm down, you’re making Chestnut skittish,” Gervas said. “We need to get going. If we’re going to make it to town by nightfall, we need to keep--”

“No.” She pulled off her robe and tossed it onto the ground. “I’ve had it. I will NOT march into any town like this. I will NOT let him, or anyone else, dictate what I can be again.” She placed her left hand against the bracer, the dots quickly re-aligning themselves. Once they were lined up, she held her right hand over her garments and whispered her arcane words.

She was Yvette. She would not allow herself to be forced to be Tebaud ever again.