Kaia the Argent Wing

I approached the external smithy with trepidation, and if it weren't for Ollie, I might've run away altogether. I could hear the clang of metal on metal, so I knew April was in there.

The smithy was almost entirely enclosed now, wooden walls hastily erected around it, and black plastic sheets stapled in place. Snow was gathered on the slanted roof and in piles around it, except where a path had been cleared to the door, which was ajar.

Ollie ushered me inside with a supportive but firm hand on my back. Damn it. Running away wasn't an option.

It was vaguely annoying how nervous I was. April was awesome, and I knew she'd be fine with my change… and yet…

The clanging stopped when we pushed the door open further to enter, and found April at the anvil, looking up at us. I watched in real time as she processed the sight of me. Her eyes flickered up and down my body, then met my gaze and stuck there.

“Kai…a?” April asked tentatively.

I nodded and took a step towards her, but she dropped everything—hammer, tongs, and work project—and rushed me.

Her arms clutched me tight to her chest and she cried, “Kaia! You're here! You're awake! Fuck me sideways, I missed you so much!”

“I'd say I missed you too, but it hasn't been very long for me,” I laughed, snuggling into the hug. She was so nice and warm.

We parted, and she looked me up and down again, “I see the feminisation process has sped up.”

“Yeah… the um… I'm very different…” I blushed, gesturing below where my dick used to be.

“Oh really,” she said, giving me a hungry, lidded stare.

Unfortunately, my chaperone stepped in. “Hey, April! Keep it in your pants,” Ollie scolded her.

Face flaming, I tried to give April a reproachful glare. “Remember what we discussed.”

She sighed. “I know, I know…”

We were quiet for a long moment, then I slapped her lightly on the arm. “Want to back me up when I go inside and talk to Charles?”

“Absolutely,” she nodded. “Anything for my adorable little crafting buddy.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned and approached the door. Gods, I was nervous. Hopefully Charles would be cool about everything.

Inside, several people were working on various items. Some were still working on candle holders, others putting hafts on axes, or in most cases, something else entirely. I saw more than a few folks who appeared to be tinkering with various monster parts in ways I wasn't familiar with.

Charles spotted us before my curiosity could get the better of me, and he hurried over to us. His eyes passed over me initially as he defaulted to April, but I cleared my throat. “I'm back. Sorry I was gone so long, I was in a coma.”

I was getting used to the expression of confusion transforming into stunned surprise by now… but the frown that followed, not so much.

“You've really gone for the sissy boy look now, eh?”

“Actually, sir… I got transformed into a girl completely,” I said, anxiously picking at my cardigan. “The coma sorta accelerated the process.”

“More fucking magic, huh?” He grunted, looking me up and down again. “I guess you can go after the boys just fine, now?”

“Why do you think I want to go for boys or girls or whatever?” I asked, trying to sound tough… but all I did was get higher pitched. Awesome… not.

“‘Cos you're doing that transvestite crap,” he said, gesturing up and down my body with a wave of his hand. “It's all que—”

A loud bang interrupted him as April slapped a table. She followed up by stepping forward into his personal space so fast I thought she was going to hit him. “Listen here, old man. This girl is the reason your old bones aren't being gnawed on by a fucking goblin while it decorates its hat with your entrails. She figured out how to make weapons capable of killing monsters. Not you. Her. So, just maybe, you should stop being such an asshole and put your pointless hatred of us queer folk to the side.”

Charles sputtered for several seconds while everyone else, including all the other crafters, watched the exchange in silence. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Instead, his face got redder and redder as anger boiled just beneath his leathery old skin.

“Hey, both of you, please let's just take a few breaths, okay?” I begged, stepping up to pull April away from him.

When she was out of range, I turned and put a small hand on his. “Hey… hey Charles. I'm sorry about the… yelling. Why don't we go to the forge where there aren't so many people watching?”

“I've half a mind to give you both the damn boot… but alright,” he growled, and together we all exited the workshop and closed the door.

The frigid breeze immediately began blasting us, but the chill was dulled by the heat of the forge.

“Charles, remember how we talked about the whole workers and corporations thing last time?” I asked, playing up the new soft femininity in my voice. Fuck, but my heart was pounding in my ears. “Well… I want to talk about myself, this time.”

He grunted and crossed his arms, but nodded to indicate he was listening.

“When you imagine yourself kissing another man, you feel gross, right? It feels wrong?” I asked.

He grimaced and nodded. “It's right unnatural, is what it is.”

“For you, yeah,” I agreed, then pointed to April. “Same for her, too. For me… well, I don't feel that dislike, no matter who I'm thinking about kissing.”

“I'm familiar with the idea of homosexuality,” he said curtly. “I'm not interested.”

“Nobody from our side cares about making you like men, Charles,” April groaned. “Our whole point is that we just want to live our lives without people getting up in our business. Seriously, why do you care if Kaia is into guys?”

“Not anymore, since she's a young woman now,” he said.

“The point stands, old man,” she said, hands on hips. “We're just people, for fuck's sake. Different, yeah, but still people. Why's that difference such a problem for you, if we ain't pushing it on you.”

“Fine. I'm not savvy enough to debate this,” He sighed. “I been thinkin’ about that workers thing anyway, and it sounds like it's got a bit of truth to it. Since you're both solid workers, I'll overlook anything I might disapprove of. If you both start slackin’ though… I'll be kicking you out.”

The three of us voiced reluctant assent, and he left back into the workshop, leaving us out here in the cold.

“What a dick,” Ollie muttered.

April grimaced, and after a moment of thought, moved back to what she'd been working on. “He's a good dude underneath all the outdated bigotry. I've made it a sort of project to turn him into an ally.”

“Why do I feel like that approach isn't working?” I asked, feeling defeated. “That was basically the same outcome as last time. Shit, it feels like he backslid.”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Last time seemed better than it was because I basically stunned him. He'll come around. You've just got to embody something non-problematic that he values. Hopefully forcing him to choose between losing a pair of great workers or accepting us will result in the latter.”

“Sounds like a pipe dream,” Ollie commented.

“I'll give it a shot,” I said, shrugging helplessly when my long-time friend gave me a look. “Thanks for chaperoning me, Ollie. I'm going to go get food, then make myself useful.”

“You only just woke up from a coma,” she protested. “Rest a bit.”

“I've been resting for days. I want to do stuff.”

She rolled her eyes. “Typical. Okay, what are you going to do?”

“Go ask Charles what needs doing, then do that,” I shrugged. “After the food, of course. No! Wait! I promised Chloe I would make her a grinder for monster bones. I'll probably need your help, April, to make that and a hammer.”

“No problem,” my blacksmith friend said, while Ollie headed for the exit.

She and I agreed to meet again for dinner, which would be in about eight hours, and I set about my task.

Going inside the workshop, people’s eyes tracked me everywhere I went. Some smiled… but most just looked away awkwardly.

Charles was busy helping someone, so I stood patiently and waited for him to finish. When he was, I told him about the request from Chloe, and he agreed it was a good idea, and that I should get to work. I grabbed a sandwich first, though.

Some hours later, as I was putting my clay prototype into the casting sand to make the negative, Cynath finally spoke into my head.

“I see you have undergone more changes, little Kaia,” she said, voice soft and tired.

Under my breath, I replied, “Yeah. Was that your fault?”

“I Imagine my influence has yet to really flourish,” she said. “Your angelic nature is purifying your body of… mistakes. Your pact with me will take the form of additions to your beauty, perhaps some subtle rabbit-inspired changes, and… nevermind, you have the hips already.”

“How are hips a part of your domain?” I demanded, thinking back to the multiple times over the last few hours where I smacked my hip on a workbench.

“Beauty standards differ tremendously between times and cultures, but one aspect is a nearly universal sign of the attribute in women. Hips.”  She explained, somewhat haughtily. 

Giving in with a sigh, I changed the subject. “How are you doing, anyway?”

“Exhausted. I've done nothing but sleep and guzzle ambrosia for days,” she complained. “I kept an eye on you and Edgewood, but I was unable to fulfil my promise of an altar to allow for the changing of storm-given powers.”

Ah, that's right! We did promise that. “What do we need to do to get that working?”

“If I were at full power, I could have you consecrate a carved statue or some such object as Silver, but that won't be an option for at least several more weeks. The other option is for you to gather several people and perform a ritual at a prospective altar. Then, I could both grant those boons and collect a small amount of worship.”

“Worship, huh? So that's what powers you?”

She hummed in thought for a moment. “In a certain sense, yes. Worship only has a marginal effect on a god’s strength as an individual. It is moreso a currency that we can use to affect change on the world and our chosen domains.”

“Does granting a class change take worship power?”

“No. Only the creation of the altar. So, will you make me a shrine?”

I almost said yes outright, but then I had an idea. If worship is what's needed, then maybe it was time to widen Cynath's follower base.

“Sure… but I don't think it should be my idea. I think you should contact the captain and a few others—like the folks who wanted to respec—directly and have them organise it.” I said, a plan forming. “Once you get others involved, they'll be more likely to show up for a casual prayer or two… especially if you respond every so often. See, humanity has been without any contact from you and your kind for at least a couple hundred years…”

“I’m aware,” she laughed, but continued to listen to my plan with growing interest.