I didn’t ask to be the Demon Queen

The first days were the hardest. When they left the hospital early in the morning, a nurse gave Daniel a card for a counselor, which he’d first taken to be a person of high office of some kind. The card had a name on it, one Amy Rivers, and a series of numbers. It took Daniel and Eliza an entire day of wandering through the city, of asking for directions, before finally arriving at the house marked with the right number.

 

The whole journey had been an odd, uncomfortable adventure. Transportation in this world was abundant and dangerous, and they’d learned the social rules of navigating -- green for go, red for stop -- very quickly. Daniel had kept a sideways eye on Eliza but even she was smart enough to quickly realize that the elevated pathways were for footfolk. Food was sold on the streets, but also in inns that Daniel had only seen once, in the more wealthy southern region of Wydonia. Denotria had been a wealthy, prosperous land that had been merged with Wydonia through decades of diplomatic marriages and agreements, and it was the only place Daniel had ever been that had people eating and dining on terraces and places known as ‘bodegas’. As he looked at the many restaurants that dotted the city, he wistfully thought back on the time he visited Denotria’s capital, fearful he might never see it again. The whole street scene was the same but different, he realized. Storefronts had large, glass windows that showcased their wares, large boards that changed as if by magic advertising various products, almost all of which meant nothing to either of them. 

 

Initially, Eliza had been very distant from Daniel, refusing to answer and dragging her feet as they followed the most recent, slightly confusing directions. But over time, their shared wonder at the strangeness of it all had taken over, and they asked each other questions, speculating as to the meaning of a sign or a product. Luckily for them, they could both read. The written language in this world seemed to be very similar to the one they came from, although much more homogenized. The signs had equal lettering that was easy on the eyes, and spelling seemed to be universal, more so than the rather more ‘creative’ approach to language shared by most people in Wydonia. 

 

But it was the smells that were the real shock. Everything in this world smelled different. It smelled much less of human waste, for one thing. At some point, Eliza remarked that she hadn’t seen a single person relieve themselves anywhere, and Daniel recalled out loud the sewage system of Denotria, which indicated a very advanced society indeed. Instead, the smellscape of the street was permeated with foods, with the different perfumes worn by its citizens, and an ever-present overbearing gas that made the both of them choke the first few times a vehicle had passed them by. It didn’t seem to bother the citizens of the city much, however, and after a while they’d learned how to tune it out to focus on the smell of food.

 

After a few hours of walking and no certainty that their destination was within reach, they stopped by a food cart that sold food they recognized: Sausages. In a bun. This was something Daniel recognized, and Eliza did as well, considering the haughty way she looked at the food as though it was beneath her. Daniel finally managed to convince her to try one, and they both tried to mimic the behavior of the customers before them. Daniel handed the man the black piece of plastic that was supposedly proof of payment, and before long they were standing on a street corner, both holding a ‘hot dog’. One with ‘mustard’ and the other with ‘ketchup’, with the idea that, worst case scenario, they could share or swap whichever one was least offensive.

 

Eliza bit down on the one with mustard and couldn’t even swallow it before spitting it out. Daniel looked at her with worry but she told him that, no, it was neither poison nor terrible. It was simply too intense. When he tried a bite of his own, he understood what she meant. The bread was somehow sweet. The sausage was stuffed with who-knows-what, and the ketchup was an assault on the taste buds. They both had to sit down on a bench to recover before finishing their meal. Eliza aggressively denied Daniel’s suggestion that they swap, so that they might try each other’s hot dog, and scarfed hers down once she’d gotten used to the stinging in her mouth. 

 

They arrived at the house of the counselor some time in the mid afternoon, and Daniel knocked politely on the door. There was a small button with a note that read: “Counselor Rivers. Bell doesn’t work well, press hard”, and Eliza did so without hesitation. A woman opened the door. She was wearing a blue sweater a size too big, her blonde hair was in a messy bun, and her glasses drew attention to her eyes. 

 

Daniel told her they’d come here from the hospital, that both of them had suffered an accident and that they’d been told they could come to her for help. After being ushered inside, Daniel confided in her that they both had no memories of a lot of things that were supposed to be commonplace, and that they’d need someone to help them navigate. 

 

Amy agreed. She saw the confusion and distress they both suffered, and neither were particularly good actors. Over the next few days, she helped them understand the basics of survival in this world. Communication was instantaneous with the use of mobile devices. Payment happened through either cash -- which they were still familiar with -- or card, which used a similar system of instant communication to send an invoice to the bank that held their money. She also helped both of them acquire a mobile device. Amy had been shocked to hear of the amount they’d been paid as a settlement, and got both of them set up with what she referred to as “upper-middle tier” cell phones. 

 

She also helped Eliza get the process started to find out her name and identity, which were still a mystery, and in the meantime, suggested that she use a name that she was comfortable with. After a whole slew of men’s names, all of which she refused, Eliza just rolled her eyes and told Amy that her name was Eliza, and that was that. There was a moment of silence after that, but Amy just took a note that read “for later” and decided to move on.

 

Then they got a shared apartment set up -- it was simply easier that way -- and after some confusion about where they could get Swedish furniture, they finally had beds and sofas and a table and somehow everything was more comfortable than almost anything either of them had ever encountered (except for the beds, which were different but about as soft as they remembered beds being).

 

It had been a few weeks, and Daniel was getting frustrated. While usually a paragon of patience and other similar virtues, nothing was working out. For one thing, he was getting really annoyed at people calling him Sally. For another, Eliza wouldn’t stop watching the infernal machine known as a television. 

 

“I am saying we need to work in this world, Eliza. We must integrate if we are to learn.”

 

“Why might that be, oh blight on my life?” Eliza asked with a mouthful of potato chips. She’d discovered a love for everything sour, and despite her insistence that potatoes were a peasant’s food, had taken with vigour to the concept of chips. She shoveled another handful in her face as she watched a man explain how to properly sear scallops. She had no idea what scallops were. “We have enough money for food to last us a lifetime, the Waters woman said. Why work?”

 

Daniel leaned against the table and crossed his arms, and looked at her with annoyance and disdain. The ‘Dragon Queen’ was impossible, and these days all she did was sit there and do nothing. It was infuriating.

 

“Because we still need to find our way home. We can’t do that if we stay cooped up in here.”

 

She pointed at the screen. “Research.” She spat crumbs over her growing facial hair. He sneered at her. Back when he’d been able to grow facial hair he’d at least taken care of it. Instead, he was stuck in a body that made him feel prepubescent and he could never stand to look down in the shower. One of the first things he’d done was arrange a meeting with a hairdresser and got his hair cut short, and get some clothing that at least felt somewhat comfortable. There had been a lot of large sweaters. 

 

Eliza hadn’t been taking care of herself, and Daniel felt he had to intervene.

 

“You’re going to go out and find yourself work, Eliza, or I’m done buying food and you can starve in here.”

 

She glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll sweeten the deal. If you do, I’ll buy one of those ‘computers’ you’ve been talking about. But you have to work on getting us home as much as I have.”

 

He hadn’t been working hard to get them home. At least, not successfully. He’d been trying to find a job, and realized he wasn’t really qualified for anything. He still knew next to nothing, and apparently most places of employment required a diploma of some sort before you could even get your foot in the door. So most days when he was out for hours ‘looking for work,’ he’d actually been ‘going to the gym’, a place that reminded him of training with his friends back home. The noise, the smell of sweat, the atmosphere of frustrated determination, all of it felt like home to him. His body was not his, but he’d decided that he would do what he could to make it his own, to the best of his ability. So he spent days training. 

 

Sally Stone’s body had not been strong. She had some stamina, he had to give her that, but no strength, and he quickly realized she also had none of the muscle memory he used to, and found that he had to relearn a lot of the ways of exercising he was used to. But he had a lot of experience and a lot of knowledge, and in just a few weeks time he’d become a familiar face at the gym, and he often talked to and even helped some of his fellow trainees exercise in a healthier way. 

 

So Eliza had gone looking for work, at Daniel’s constant insistence. She’d found work annoyingly quickly for someone with no legal name or documentation, at something called a call center, where she spent days receiving complaints from people. Apparently she was quite good at it, in some ways.

 

“I don’t understand why they’re making me go to these meetings, Daniel!” she raged as the paced through the apartment. “I have higher success numbers than anyone on the team!”

 

Daniel looked at her from the sofa, eating noodles out of a bowl. Eliza had exploded halfway through eating dinner, but she’d actually first come home and cooked. She’d developed something of an obsession for cooking after she discovered that the computer also had access to recipes. She’d gotten good at it, too. She still had no idea what scallops actually were. But during a calm conversation about work she’d leapt up and started tirading.

 

“I’m better than anyone there, and the numbers show it. I just do. Not. Understand. Why. I have to go to this gods-forsaken sensitivity meeting.”

 

Daniel tried not to laugh. They’d arrived at a sort of stable equilibrium, living together. She’d stopped speaking to him exclusively in hurled insults and in turn he’d actually started sharing knowledge about this world with her. Together, they were learning quite fast. But apparently Eliza still fell into the habit of talking down to people, and Daniel couldn’t help but be amused.

 

“You might learn a thing or two,” he said, waving his chopsticks in the air. His ability to use them had been a source of annoyance to Eliza, until he’d pointed out that the only reason he’d done so was to enjoy her cooking more authentically. She’d blushed and thrown a towel at him when he’d said that. 

 

So Eliza had gone to the sensitivity meeting and come back even more excitable than before. Daniel had wondered for a moment if something terrible had happened, especially since she’d basically charged at him. He’d been training a lot and found his physique shaping up quite well, but he was still small and petite compared to her masculine frame. So when she grabbed him by the collar and almost lifted him off the ground he was scared he might not be able to win against her in a fight. 

 

“Daniel!”

 

“Yes, Eliza?” he’d hazarded, softly. 

 

“There’s other people like us!” she yelled. Daniel suddenly realized he’d mistaken her enthusiasm for anger. He wondered how other people from Wydonia had found their way here.

 

“What? How? Where?” he said, as she lowered him to the ground and ran her hand through her hair. She’d been letting it grow out, which she’d had a talk to HR about (“Human Resources are not what I thought they would be,” she’d said once with a disappointed sigh), but she’d been shaving and taking care of her appearance since, and in turn they’d turned a blind eye to her longer cut.

 

“In the seminar! They talked about minorities, and why you should be sensitive and so forth, right?” Daniel nodded. For some absurd reason, people with different skin colours were in the minority and that was cause for discrimination. Neither of them had understood discrimination with species. They’d had some difference of opinion when it came to inter-species relations, however, but they’d tabled that discussion. “So apparently there’s more minorities than just races, right?” 

 

Daniel nodded again. “I’ve heard of the clashes between religions, as well.”

 

“No, not that.” Eliza paused, Daniel was sure, for dramatic effect. “People who aren’t in their own bodies.”

 

“But how?” Were they really like them?

 

“Apparently they’re born that way. And this world’s medicine can apparently go a long way to fixing that problem.”

 

He just looked at her quizzically. Born that way?

 

“Apparently some people here are born with a body that is just… wrong. We can change these bodies, Daniel!” She looked happier than he’d ever seen her, and saw tears welling up in her eyes, and as the realization began to dawn on him his hair stood on end. The possibility of not… he looked down. Could it?

 

Eliza walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. 

 

“Daniel! We’re transgender!”