Zoey’s Story

 
[CW: Homophobia, Transphobia, Racism, Antisemitism, Islamophobia.]

“The rise of quantum computing combined with the AI revolution of the 2030’s has revived the old concerns about the humanity of artificial intelligences. There are still the ongoing fears of a “singularity-level” AI conquering the world and the constant refrain that AI will take over all existing jobs if we allow them to. And deepest of all is these fears that we may lose track of where humanity begins and the construct ends. While the Turing tests of old used to be the gold standard for determining if an AI was truly intelligent or not, the fact of the matter is that people have enough difficulty in discerning truth from fiction as it is. It is not about what is actually real, but what feels real. People would happily believe that an AI was a real person if it professed ideas that they already agreed with.

The larger issue is that, truthfully, we’ve lost touch with what makes us human. We struggle to recognize the humanity of people based on the color of their skin or who they love or where they were born. Humanity would likely struggle to identify a truly sentient artificial human even if it was staring us in the face. We would be best served in trying to find our own personhood before we seek it out in others.”

-Finding Humanity In the Artificial by Dr. Abby Corvalis
_____________________________

Marianne and I were hard at work in the forge when it happened.

We had been talking about what had happened to Steven. Leon had been working to get him some level of clemency, due to his age. And Steven himself had been begging for a chance to make things right. Marianne had gotten Seamus to a healer quickly enough to save his life and he was supposed to have made a full recovery after some rest. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night from riding to the temple of the Renewer and back all night, but she seemed capable of doing her job, regardless.

I was going to visit Steven every day in jail that I could. And for what it was worth, I was certain that he was a better person than I had first thought. One that was seeking redemption.

Not “Bloodclaw”… but Steven was beginning to make himself known.

Leon’s words were still bouncing around my head as I did the forge work. A paladin. Someone who stands up for justice and protects people. Could that really be me?

At the moment I didn’t feel much like a hero. My muscles were still killing me as I was pulling the double duty of combat training and forging. But, in spite of the pain, I was beginning to see progress. My hammer felt lighter in my grip and the metal moved more readily as I pounded on it. I found that I was actually getting capable of keeping pace with Marianne.

But it was then that it happened.

In between the chorus of hammers and roars of heat, I heard the last thing that I expected to hear in RoEM.

My name.

Not Zoey... but the name my parents called me.

I snapped in the direction of the sound and with a choking sensation settling in my throat, I saw him.

Gavin. My best friend. My old neighbor. My only link to normal.

Gavin.

Gavin was standing in the forge. MY forge. He was standing there talking to Alexander as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

He had grown since we last saw each other “in person”. He was taller and had thick, bare arms that sprouted out of his leather vest. He was wearing a striped bandanna tied around his forehead, keeping his dreadlocked, black hair out of his eyes and he had a leather bag slung over his shoulder. Sheathed at his belt was the hilt of a curved sword and, under his ankle-length cloth pants, he wore heavy, black leather boots with brass buckles.

Beside him, was the figure of who I assumed to be Syd. He was a head taller than Gavin, wearing only baggy, flared burlap pants and a complex trail of body paint which snaked around his scaled body. He had a pointed face with a snout on the end and slitted eyes that gleamed in the light of the forge. His dusty red scales were the color of old brick and he carried a bag over his shoulder which he held close to his body. I didn’t see any visible weapons, but as he scratched at his neck idly, I saw there were long claws at the end of his four-fingered hand. Behind him, a long tail snapped back and forth impatiently.

Alexander, with a look of bewilderment on his face, pointed Gavin towards me and Marianne.

I ducked down behind the forge, kneeling onto the hard stone floor, heart pounding in my chest. It was the only hiding place I could see, but they’d see me as they drew closer. I needed to find somewhere else to hide. The back closet maybe? 

Marianne, stopped her work in surprise, looking down at me kneeling on the floor. “Uh... Zoey? What are you doing?”

I couldn’t even begin to voice what was going through my head. Only one thought had space within my mind as I hid behind the anvil: I had to get out of here.

I couldn’t let Gavin see me like this. I was sweaty, and covered in soot, but I was undeniably female. My face was contoured and my voice was high. The swell of my breasts under my blouse and apron couldn’t be hidden. There was no way that I could pass as the boy he used to know.

I looked towards the rear exit of the forge and tried to figure out how to escape without being seen. How the hell had Alexander known to point Gavin to us?

Because, I realized, he had asked for Marianne. Even if they didn’t recognize my male name, Gavin knew hers. He would ask for Marianne to look for me.

I could ask her to shoo Gavin away, I thought. Tell him she had no idea who he was talking about. It would be easy, as Marianne had no idea about my old life as a boy. 

I looked up to her, about to ask, but as I did, I caught Gavin’s voice above the noise.

“I don’t get it,” he said, his voice steeped in confusion, “He said he worked here. I really hope this Marianne chick knows where he is...”

“I certainly hope so,” hissed a low voice I assumed to be Syd’s, “Considering we traveled for days and spent entirely too much gold on this escapade.”

“He’s here,” said Gavin, firmly. “I know it. He’ll help us out.”

I let loose a shuddering breath. Gavin had traveled all this way to see me. And I wasn’t there. His best friend had let him down. Again.

If I walked out on him like this, I’d never be able to talk to him again.

“Uh, hey,” said Gavin, his voice closer, “Are you Marianne?”

Marianne, still baffled, looked up. “Um... yes?”

“I’m looking for a friend of mine?” he said uncertainly, “Human. About so tall. Long hair? I need a new sword and they’re supposed to work here. His name is-“

“HI!”

The words exploded out of my chest as I leaped to my feet so hard I think I got a foot or so in the air. Gavin jumped back in shock and Syd’s tail shot straight up and his claws shot out of his hands in panic.

“Hi!” I said again, still rather loudly and awkwardly, “Sorry, I dropped my hammer!” I gestured with it. “That's why I was down there. I didn’t see you coming. Um... my name’s Zoey... me and Marianne work together. You said you needed a new sword?”

It took every ounce of self control not to freak out under his wide-eyed gaze. I saw him blink several times, taking a few breaths to settle down, before he spoke again.

“Uh... yeah...” he said, his brow wrinkled in confusion, “Um... nice to meet you. I’m Gavin.”

I heaved out a sigh of relief. He didn’t recognize me. It was to be expected, I supposed. We hadn’t met “in-person” for years and why would he ever expect his best friend would actually be a girl?

I felt a little foolish. There was no reason to believe that he would recognize me on sight. I could easily pretend to be someone else.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, smiling as wide as I could. “What kind of sword were you interested in?”

Gavin narrowed his gaze for at me for a moment and glanced around the forge one more time. 

Apparently he didn’t see anyone else who looked like me, so he shrugged in defeat and pulled out his sword.

Or, rather, what was left of it. There was only about a three inch length of blade which snapped off, set into a brass-handled guard with a knuckle-bow curved around the main handle to protect the wielder’s grip. 

What remained of the sword was battered and scratched as if it had seen countless fights.

“Got it snapped fighting with... uh... pirates...” he said, setting it on the nearby anvil. “Can you fix it?”

I had never forged a sword before, but after weeks of working with other metal tools, I realized what needed to be done.

“I might be able to salvage the handle,” I said, picking up the broken weapon, “but I would need to forge a new blade from scratch. It’ll take some time. And it’s not exactly cheap.”

I shot a quick glance at Marianne. I had no idea how much it would cost. She caught my eye and nodded. “Two hundred. Up front,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Ludicrous!” snarled Syd, stepping forward, “It’s a cutlass! We could buy five of them at the shoremarkets for that price!”

“Look,” said Marianne, raising an eyebrow, “If you want us to pull up a dull piece of scrap and jam it in the handle then you’re going to be disappointed. In this forge we do quality work.”

“Please...” said Syd, snorting derisively, “you must be delusional. Whiteoak Falls is barely even a real city and you want to charge like this is the Grand Forge of Golddell. Fifty... and that’s as high as we’ll go.”

“Fifty?!” Marianne rocked back as if she’d been slapped. “You’ve got to be joking!”

Gavin looked helplessly to me and to the other two. I nodded to him and cleared my throat. 

“Marianne,” I said, trying to cut in, “These gentlemen have clearly traveled a long way to see some quality work. They were asking for your name in particular, yes?”

Marianne looked at me, surprised. She turned her gaze to the other two.

“Uh... my friend said that you were the best,” said Gavin weakly.

“How about this,” I said, stretching out a hand, “Seventy five up front and I’ll cover the rest.” I was grateful that Alexander paid us handsomely for our work, as that was not an insignificant sum.

“Zoey,” snapped Marianne, pushing my hand away. “Don’t.”

“Gavin here is a fellow human,” I said, gesturing to him, “And... you’re friends with-” I swallowed and forced out my old name, “right?”

Gavin blinked in surprise. “Yeah! You know him?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my composure, “I think he mentioned you. He’s out of town, though...”

I had to swallow hard to keep my bile from rising. This was wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should just tell him the truth. 

Later, I told myself. Not now.

“Shit...” he sighed, shaking his head, “that’s what I get for trying to surprise him, I guess.”

“Sorry,” I said, smiling guiltily. “But let me at least make it up to you with a human to human discount.”

Marianne looked to me, eyebrows arched. 

“It’s my money,” I said stubbornly. Alexander paid us well and it wasn’t like I was spending it on anything else.

She sighed and pulled out some raw metal. “Let’s get to work.”

We directed the two of them to a nearby tavern after Gavin handed over the remaining gold. He still looked a little uncertain, but he left nonetheless, leaving me to breathe easily.

 “Okay... I think we need to talk.”

Marianne took an ingot of metal and plopped it on the anvil.

And, in an instant, my relief popped like a balloon, leaving nothing but freefalling terror again.

She pronounced my old name. The idea that she now knew it was unbearably awful, even if she didn’t know who it was. “I’ve never met anyone with that name. Especially not working at the forge. And you’ve never mentioned anyone by that name.”

I sighed, stoking the forge. “It’s complicated.”

“Obviously,” sighed Marianne, setting in the ingot for heating, “I’m assuming this Gavin is one of the humans you can talk to in your dreams?”

“Yeah...” I said, sitting down next to her. “We’re friends. Have been for a while.”

“He didn’t seem to recognize you,” she said, concerned.

“I’ve... changed a lot since we last met,” I said, flopping back onto a bench. “Like...” I thought for a moment of how to put it in a way she would understand. “We’ve only been talking through... letters, I guess. Writing back and forth.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “How long has it been since you’ve seen each other?”

“Years,” I sighed. “I didn’t expect to see him here.”

“So who is this-“ 

“I changed my name,” I snapped, desperately not wanting to hear that name from her lips again. “I haven’t gotten around to telling Gavin.”

“Did he say his friend was a man? I could have sworn he said his…” she pressed further.

“No,” I said, flatly and sharply. “Hers. You must have misheard. It’s a loud place, obviously.”

“Oh…Okay,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. I thought she’d make a comment on why such a masculine name had used to be mine, but she thankfully ignored that. “Why don’t you tell him then? Tell him that you’re his friend?

I buried my head in my hands, groaning. I thought for a little more, trying to find an explanation she would understand.

“Gavin really hasn’t gotten the chance to know me as I am now,” I said, measuring out the words as I spoke them, “I’ve changed. I’m not sure he’d accept me if he knew I was the friend he used to know.”

“What’s not to love about you?” asked Marianne with a smile, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s complicated...” I sighed. I shook my head as I stepped up and helped to bring the ingot up to heat, pumping the bellows and watching the forge glow.

“Look, Zoey...” said Marianne, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Far be it from me to tell you how to handle your relationships... but I think the best thing is to be honest. If Gavin doesn’t accept you as you are, then he isn’t worth calling a friend.”

I smiled. She was right, of course, but more importantly, she really was supporting me through this. I didn’t know if she was programmed to understand what it meant to be transgender, but the sentiment was there.

“Give me some time,” I said, picking up some tongs. “I’ll tell him the truth eventually. In the meantime, let’s get to work.”

She nodded and we started shaping the steel.

It was a long and difficult crafting, but with the two of us working as a team, we managed to finish the sword by the evening. We had to stay a little later, but Alexander was impressed with us for getting a large commission from a buyer specifically asking for us. He even saved a few bowls of soup from dinner for us to gulp down while we finished the sword.

I examined the finished blade in the firelight. It gleamed, and the metal was almost a mirror shine. Marianne put an arm around my shoulder. “Nicely done,” she said, beaming. “Really good work. Go deliver this to your friend... I’ll get things cleared up.”

“You sure?” I asked, looking at the mess.

“Just go...” she said, waving me away. “See you at home.”

I grinned. That’s what it was now. It wasn’t just “the apartment” anymore.

It was home. 

I slotted the sword into a simple scabbard. “Thanks.”

“Just be careful with it,” she said reproachfully, “Don't go dropping it or anything.”

I nodded and stepped out of the forge and into the greater cave.

Gavin was sitting near the central fountain in the square, his head cradled in his hands. He looked sad and alone, and with a renewed twinge of guilt, I realized that I had left him there. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. His friend Syd was standing away from Gavin, making conversation with the locals.

I swallowed hard and stepped forward. He didn’t notice my presence until I made a noise as I cleared my throat.

Gavin looked up in surprise, putting on a hollow smile. “Uh hi.”

“Hey...” I said, smiling. I made a show of drawing and offering the gleaming weapon to him. “It was a little bit of a rush, but it was a fun project. Thank you, really.”

He took it and drew it, awestruck. He gave it some tentative swings. It hissed through the air. “Shit...” he said, eyes wide, “it’s incredible.”

“We do good work here,” I said earnestly. “And it was great practice. We don’t usually get much call for weapons around here.”

He nodded distractedly. He accepted the weapon and sheath as he attached them to his belt and put the weapon away. His eyes lingered on me, yet they didn’t quite seem to be able to meet my gaze. Again, my heart lurched, terrified that he recognized me.

“Um... are you planning to stay here long?” I asked, my voice coming out a little tighter than I expected.

“The caravan doesn’t leave for a few days,” he said, adjusting his sword. “I... uh... was planning to hang out with... my friend.” He looked at me again, as if trying to read something in my face. “Do you know when he’s getting back?”

Never.

The thought gripped my chest and nearly broke me right then and there. I could never be the friend he wanted me to be. Our relationship was broken and could never be mended. There wasn’t any smith on the planet that could reforge this bond.

I turned away from him, unable to hold my gaze. “I don’t know... sorry...” I said, my throat tight.

Gavin heaved out a sigh. He moved to leave. 

“But-“

My mouth opened before I had a chance to process what I was going to say. I sputtered for a moment, wondering what the hell I was going to do. I couldn’t be the friend he was looking for! I was Zoey now! Gavin didn’t know me!

But... maybe he could get to know me?

“But,” I continued, turning to face him. “I can show you around. If you like.”

Gavin blinked in surprise. “Really?”

I nodded. “Yeah... it’s the least I can do. I mean... you came all this way.”

Gavin seemed to ponder that for a moment. “...Yeah… okay...”

I smiled. Some warm feeling pushed through the fear and shined through. “Awesome! Meet you here tomorrow at nine? The forge is closed tomorrow for the weekend, so we can spend the whole day together.”

Gavin smiled, and the warm feeling doubled inside me. “Alright, cool. Tomorrow.”

I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “See you then...”

“Yeah...” said Gavin, grinning like an idiot. 

“Goodnight, Gavin,” I said, waving as I left.

“Night... Zoey...” he said, waving back, still standing there as I left.

I barely felt my feet hit the floor as I rushed back to my apartment. Relief flooded through me. It all worked out. And, now, I was finally going to get the chance to be with my best friend again. And, more importantly, it would be as myself.

As I stepped through the door, Marianne was unsurprisingly waiting for me.

“Welcome back,” she said, eyebrows raised. “So... how did things go?”

“Good,” I said, plopping down onto the cot. “We’re sightseeing in town together tomorrow.”

Marianne chuckled. “And you know the town well enough to act as a guide?”

I considered that for a moment, before shaking my head. “N-not really...”

“So what I’m hearing is that I am giving a tour tomorrow to your complicated friend and his ill-tempered scalefolk,” she said, crossing her arms. She was smiling as she said it.

“Sorry...” I sighed. “I... said it without thinking.”

“It’s fine...” she insisted, “look, any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Zoey. Complicated or not.”

I smiled back at her. “Thank you...”

The rest of the night settled into the usual routine. Showers, I did the laundry with nothing but a washboard and elbow-grease and we just warmed ourselves by the stove until we finally turned in for the night.

As I fell asleep, I thought of Gavin and how he had changed. And while I wasn’t certain if he would accept the new me, I would at the very least have the chance to show him without judgment.

It was all I could hope for that Zoey could be his best friend to replace the one he lost. Maybe if I did well enough, he’d forget the old me entirely.

I sighed, wishing that I could do the same.

____________________________________________________

“THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS WORLD!”

Pastor Benny’s voice shook the walls of the church, as it did every Sunday.

The Baptist Church of the True God was a large, modern space with tall windows with crucifix emblems. The Cross was visible all around the church, with a large, golden illuminated one hanging behind Pastor Benny’s podium.

His thick, meaty hands were gripping his podium as if he intended to hurl it into the pews at any moment. His suit jacket was now discarded and his white dress shirt now revealed his rolled-up sleeves and loosened tie. His leather shoes stomped as he shouted, his eyes blazing with an almost manic fury.

To be honest, going to church hadn’t ever been particularly pleasant, even before my gender revelation, but I could already tell from the very first words out of his mouth that this was going to be one of Pastor Benny’s louder sermons. 

There was only one thing that made Pastor Benny this furious. 

Sitting crammed in with Mom and Dad in our Sunday clothes was its own small hell in itself. It required me to wear that stupid white shirt, jacket and black tie and black pants. I glanced at Paige and, in addition to the intense feelings of jealousy of her floral yellow and blue dress, I caught her look. We both knew what was coming and we winced sympathetically.

“THERE IS A PROBLEM IN THIS WORLD TODAY!” he shouted again. “AND THAT PROBLEM IS THAT WE ARE APPROACHING THE END TIMES!” He stabbed a finger out at the congregation and swept it over them. “YOU WERE WARNED! THE BIBLE TELLS NO LIES, BROTHERS AND SISTERS! THE DEVIL HAS BEEN GIVEN SWAY OVER THIS WORLD AND OUR DEVOTION TO THE LORD MOST HIGH IS GOING TO BE TESTED!”

He took in a deep breath before continuing, visibly spitting a little. “OUR NATION HAS FALLEN FROM THE FAVOR OF GOD! WE HAVE ALLOWED GODLESS ATHEISTS, SATANIC PEDOPHILES, TERRORIST MUSLIMS AND DEPRAVED QUEERS TO HAVE FREE REIGN OVER THIS COUNTRY! AND FOR THIS REASON, WE HAVE BROUGHT JUDGMENT UPON OURSELVES. THE LORD IS STORING UP HIS WRATH FOR THE WICKED, BROTHERS AND SISTERS! AND THE DAY WILL SOON COME!”

“Amen!” echoed members of the congregation, my father included.

“KEEP YOURSELVES AND YOUR FAMILIES STRONG IN THE PRESENCE OF THE LORD! GIRD YOURSELVES AGAINST THE EVIL ONE BECAUSE HE WILL SEEK TO DEVOUR YOU AND YOUR LOVED ONES. HE IS AS A PROWLING LION, READY TO DEVOUR WHOM HE WILL! ARM YOURSELVES, OH SOLDIERS OF THE LORD, BECAUSE THE TIME OF TRIBULATION IS COMING, AND YOU WILL BE CALLED TO DEFEND YOUR FAITH.”

More cheering. I shifted nervously and I saw that Paige looked completely empty. Her face was absolutely blank and the only sign of life was her blinking slowly and deliberately. I chanced a glance around us and spotted Ruth sitting in the far corner of the worship hall with her family. 

I never would have guessed that Ruth and Paige were together, if I hadn’t seen it for myself. They came off as casual friends from what little interaction with them I saw. Ruth’s family consisted of her father Mr. Thomas, a heavily-muscled man with greased-down hair and a thick mustache. His wife, Mrs. Thomas, was an extremely pregnant woman with long, bleached-blonde hair who was fanning herself with a church program. On her knee was Ruth’s brother, Elijah, who was too young to understand our pastor beyond being a bald, shouting man.

“OUR FOES ARE MANY!” roared Pastor Benny, “THE GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED STATES IS NO LONGER AN ALLY TO OUR CAUSE. THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES IS A GODDAMN FAGGOT!” Benny actually pushed over his podium and let it crash onto the floor. The sound caused me to jump slightly in my seat as the impact resonated through the floor. 

“WE HAVE A GOVERNMENT FILLED WITH FAGGOTS AND QUEERS!” he continued, his voice raging, “AND THE TRANNIES... OH THE TRANNIES... THOSE GROOMING, PEDOPHILES… THOSE FILTHY FAGGOTS! YOU HAVE MEN WHO ARE PERVERTING THE CREATION OF GOD! THEY ARE DEFILING THE IMAGE OF THE LORD! MALE AND FEMALE GOD CREATED THEM! NOT MAN!” He stabbed another finger out into the audience and I flinched as it landed in our rough direction. 

“AND THEY WOULD PERVERT YOUR CHILDREN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS! GROOM THEM TO BE RAPED AND VIOLATED. THEY WOULD MUTILATE YOUR CHILDREN! THEY WOULD SEE YOUR STRONG BOYS CUT THEIR PENISES OFF AND SEE YOUR SWEET GIRLS CHOP OFF THEIR BREASTS! THEY WOULD STERILIZE THEM AND PUMP THEM FULL OF DRUGS AND CHEMICALS! CASTRATE THEM AND DESTROY THEM! AND THIS ACCURSED MARXIST GOVERNMENT WOULD LET THEM DO IT!”

I had to struggle to keep myself from shaking. It was difficult to tune out, just due to the volume of the shouting. It was more difficult to ignore as my Dad was nodding along to every word.

Paige, sitting to the right of me, did the only thing that kept me from falling apart entirely. She held my hand tight and squeezed in reassurance. We traded looks. She gave me a weak smile and I found my anchor in that smile and in her grip.

Benny continued to roar and rave. Words like, “woke” or “Marxist” or “heresy” or “progressive” were spat out with increasing fury and vitriol. He spoke of his personal fantasies of killing each and every one of the “fags” to personally send them to hell. At the end of the service, he actually prayed for them to be gunned down and imprisoned. And Dad continued to agree and shout amen along with others around us. And all me and Paige could do was sit there together, quietly waiting for the hate to pass, gripping each other’s hands for dear life..

The rest of the service was less awful, but I could barely focus on it. I was just too emotionally exhausted. Dad, on the other hand, was so enthused he went up to the still-toppled podium and personally shook Pastor Benny’s hand the moment the service ended. 

Dragging me along.

Standing beside Benny was Jacob, dressed in his Sunday best and giving me the same hungry look that he always wore.

“I have to give it to you, Ben,” said Dad, still shaking his hand. “You preached the Word of the Lord today. None of that bullshit woke trash, but the real Spirit of the Lord came upon you, Pastor.”

Pastor Benny cracked a wide grin. “I do as the Lord commands, Brother Harlow. Nothing more.”

Dad dragged me closer. Nervously and hesitantly I stepped up onto Benny’s level. Dad introduced me using my given name. “You see... I took what you said to heart. I need to make sure my son has a solid upbringing. None of those worldly influences. Of course we homeschool and keep him grounded in the Word but...” he rubbed his hand on my head, mussing up my hair. “Worldly influences just keep seeping in.”

I saw Jacob smirk at that, his eyes looking up at my hair as Dad messed it up.

“We are at spiritual war, brother,” said Pastor Benny, nodding sagely. “But I might have something. We’re having a regular Bible study led by my son, Jacob.” He set a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Something to help young men get spiritually grounded. Iron sharpens iron, after all.” He looked down at me. “It’s every Wednesday at 7:00.”

I had to resist a shudder. There was nobody in the world I wanted to be around less.

“We’d be happy to have him,” said Jacob, looking at me with those soulless, hungry eyes.

I said nothing, but Dad, as always, spoke up for me. “That would be perfect. Excellent opportunity, son.” Dad grabbed my shoulder. I tried not to wince from the contact. I just wanted to do anything to get away from the situation.

“Well, we look forward to having you, my boy,” said Pastor Benny, smiling in a way which showed no joy or mirth.

“Say thank you, son,” Dad said, shaking me a little.

“Thank you...” I said automatically, the words tasting like acid in my mouth.

“You are very welcome,” said Pastor Benny, that empty smile still on his lips. 

“Looking forward to seeing you, Harlow,” said Jacob coolly.

Benny spotted someone else and excused himself as he left. Jacob followed, but his gaze lingered on me as he passed. I had to repress another shiver.

Dad relaxed a little and shot me a pointed look. “This is good for you. It’s important for you to be grounded with other believers, son.”

“I don’t fit in...” I mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well you should be working to fix that!” snapped Dad. “Lord knows you spend too much time on the Internet and on that stupid dream-box thing. You need to be in the real world. Find a job, start dating and join in the fight for the Lord.” He gestured to the podium. “Were you listening to a damn thing the pastor was saying?”

I had. Those words were still rattling in my skull and I felt sick from hearing them. I didn’t necessarily believe them, but that didn’t matter. In the eyes of my father, those words were law. Transgender people were an abomination unto the Lord. And deserving of death.

“Sorry...” I whispered, slouching down.

“Ugh...” grunted Dad, nudging me forward, back to the rest of the family. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll make sure you find your feet. You’ll learn to be a real man.”

I followed him and the rest of the family. Mom was talking to Doris, with Paige in tow. They were apparently talking about cosmetology and it was clear, at least to me, that Paige was just as miserable as I had been.

“Oh dearie...” said Doris, peering over her glasses as she saw me. “Goodness, dear...”

“Well...” said Mom, clearly embarrassed, “it’s obviously good work... we just would prefer she learn some more... basic styles... something less... modern.”

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with learning new styles,” said Doris, brushing back her mane of white hair, “I once did a colored man's hair, if you can believe it! It was so messy and thick! But you want to make sure that the haircut matches the customer.” She gestured to me. “You can tell that so many cosmetology courses are being taught by homosexuals, though. Just another link in the globalist chain. You take watch yourself now, right girl?”

Me and Paige traded miserable looks for a moment before Paige turned back to Doris. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said, nodding, “I’ll study hard.”

“Oh I know that you’ll do fine work,” she said, smiling as put her hands on her shoulders. “Just don’t work too hard. Need to find you a good husband, first of all!”

Paige gave a brittle smile in return. Her eyes suddenly darted over behind Dad, and as I followed them, I saw that Ruth was being drawn by her family towards us. Doris scuttled away.

Mr. Sason was a fairly intimidating man, who stood a head taller than Dad. He dressed in a gray suit and blue tie and offered a hand to Dad.

“Brother Harlow,” he rumbled, nodding to him with a faint smirk on his face, "Good morning!"

“Brother Sason,” Dad replied coldly, accepting the hand with a barely contained look of discomfort. 

“This was a good service today, right?” he said with a grin as he gestured over to Pastor Benny. While he spoke English understandably, he still had the tinge of his old language in how he spoke. “These are sick and depraved people, and we need to speak the truth! This filth must burn in Hell, yes?” 

“Sure,” said Dad, staring at Mr. Sason with a deepening frown. I knew he didn’t like Mr. Sason very much… I assumed because he wasn’t American, or at least wasn’t born in America. I glanced over to Ruth who gave me a weak if pained smile as she stood silently beside her father.

“We never should have let them onto our land back in Israel,” growled Mr. Sason, shaking his head, “Like the old law says, they should be stoned to death. That’s the real reason we lost the country to the Muslims… מוות לערבים!” He gritted his teeth as he hissed those last words.

Mrs. Sason put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine… we’re here now,” she murmured, as she held her son in her arms as he tried to wriggle out of her grip.

“We must fight together against them here, right Brother Harlow?” he said grinning wide as he nodded to dad. “The Jews, the Arabs, the fags… here we shall make our stand!”

Ruth looked visibly ill as she looked away from her dad. Beside me, I saw Paige take a step forward, but stopped herself, her hands clenched at her side.

“Sure,” sighed Dad dismissively, “I gotta go Danny.”

“Of course,” Mr. Sason said, waving him aside. “See you next week, yes?”

Dad didn’t respond as he walked past him, his footsteps tense. I saw, as we passed one another, that Paige’s hand brushed against Ruth’s outstretched hand, quickly enough to seem accidental, but clearly enough to my eyes to know that they were trying to comfort one another.

“Un-fucking believable,” growled Dad as we moved into the parking lot. He tapped at his phone screen in the air and our car pulled up to us and opened its doors. “I cannot fucking believe that Pastor Benny hasn’t kicked that slimy little shit out of here yet.”

Mom frowned as she stood next to him, but knew better than to speak up.

We all slid into Dad’s car as he tapped the screen for us to return home. The doors closed and the car lurched into motion, weaving around other cars and passengers.

“It’s bad enough that those fucking globalist cucks lost the country that we gave them,” snapped Dad, through gritted teeth. “All that fucking money those greedy fuckers wasted… but now they want to come here?! To our country?! And they think if they throw around enough of their filthy sheckles around that we’re just going to forget about it?! They’re as bad as the fucking illegals, coming here taking our women and shitting out anchor babies.”

He peered over his shoulder to look at us. “Remember kids… stay away from them. They might pretend to be one of us, but they’re Jews through and through.” He snorted. “'Jews through and through'… I should meme that.”

Me and Paige exchanged glances, but nodded woodenly. Dad grunted and turned his attention to his phone, presumably crafting a meme.

As Dad silently fumed, I had a moment to check my messages. 

A notification chime chirped into my ear, and as I checked it, I saw that it was from Paige. One of the first texts that I’d received from her that wasn’t a snide remark or bullying, really.

[How are you holding up?]

I looked to the other side of the car and saw that Paige was looking out the window, as if she hadn’t sent me anything. 

[Was it always that bad?] I replied, Pastor Benny’s rant still in my ear.

[It’s pretty easy to tune it out and agree with it if you think it doesn’t apply to you. These people are monsters. They can dress up in their Sunday best but they want anyone who is different from them to fucking *die*.]

[I wish it was just Sunday and youth group. But now, Dad’s going to force me to go to Bible Study with Jacob.]

[Ugh… gross.] Paige actually physically shook slightly as she was sitting next to me. [Fuck. That.]

[I should try to skip it like you do.]

[I wouldn’t. I have dirt on the study leader for the girl’s Bible Study so she’s willing to cover for me and Ruth being absent. I don’t think Jacob has anything he’s ashamed of. He'd make your life hell if you tried to duck out. He’s a monster, Zoey. Even worse than his dad I think.]

[I don’t want to be here anymore. I don't want to keep doing this. I want to run off with you.]

[I know... we can talk about it once I get out. It would be rough though. You’d basically be a fugitive. You’d have to avoid talking to anyone and basically be in hiding until you turned 18.]

I raised an eyebrow at her from across the car. [I’m kind of already doing that.]

Paige blinked a few times, then nodded. [Fair. But the point stands... And it’s not like Dad would sit idly by either. He’s fucking psychotic. He’d chase us down to the ends of the earth. Not to mention he might kill Ruth's family if he realized that we were running away together.]

[What is up with him hating Mr. Sason so much? Isn’t he a Christian?]

[Doesn’t matter. Far as Dad’s concerned, because Ruth’s dad came from Israel, he’s as good as a Jew. It’s kind of sad that Mr. Sason is just as much of a bigot as Dad is. He left Israel when Palestine formed and became a US citizen and became a Christian and married Ruth’s mom, but it would never be enough for the others here to accept him. Pastor Benny only lets him stay because he donates so much to the church.]

[Did Ruth tell you all that?]

[Yeah… her family’s just as fucked up as ours.]

[Why is Dad so screwed up?]

Paige hesitated for a moment before replying. [My guess? Dad’s gay and he’s afraid to admit it.]

My eyes bugged out of my head as I looked at Paige across the back seat in shock. She just gave a quiet shrug and resumed staring out the window quietly.

[Seriously?!] I texted, unable to believe it.

[Remember that story I told you about? When I got pulled out of public school? Seriously, it wasn’t anger. At least not at first, it was fear. Denial. He said “everyone gets those sorts of feelings sometimes, but it’s not God’s plan for you”. It was just some girl joking around, but he was treating it like the world was coming to an end.]

I frowned, remembering Dad’s talk with me. [He said something about “the seed of sin” being inside everyone... I think you’re right, Paige.]

[Don’t bring it up around him. I legit think he’d kill you if you called him out on it.]

I shook my head. [Is that all this is? People like Dad, Mr. Sason and Pastor Benny are just gay and hate themselves for it?]

[Oh no. Benny probably isn’t gay. And I think Mr. Sason just hates Muslims and wants to hang out with other haters. Some people just want to feel better than other people. They see us as free targets. It’s acceptable to go after us. Attacking us is an easy path to power and to hold control over others through fear. Dad just wants to be part of the group and hates himself the same as he hates others.]

I thought about that. I could understand the feeling. In my darker moments I hated myself. I hated the whole idea of being transgender. Everything that came out of Pastor Benny’s mouth bounced around my head and reinforced the simple fact that I was wrong. A freak.

I imagined what it was like to live like that for years. Letting the hatred build and overflow. Hurting everyone around you.

I wasn’t sure that I believed in Hell but I certainly believed that Dad was living in it. 

And he was trying to drag everyone in with him.

I shook my head and decided to check my other messages. I had to escape from the terror I'd just sat through. The latest message was one that I knew was coming but it was no less painful to read. 

[I missed you.]

The words Gavin left me felt like an unexploded hand grenade. I had to take a deep breath and ready myself to respond. It was going to hurt like crazy to play dumb like this, but it was the only way to make things work.

[What do you mean?]

[I was going to surprise you with a visit to Whiteoak Falls, but you were out of town?]

[Oh. Crap, Gavin, I’m sorry.]

[It’s okay. I probably should have called ahead. How long are you going to be out of town?]

Never. He is never coming back. That person is gone… but I’m still here. Please just be here with me! With Zoey!

[I don’t know. Travel here is always kind of unpredictable. Maybe a week?]

[Shit.]

[Sorry. I didn’t know.]

[It’s fine. It’s actually a pretty cool city.]

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was certain it wasn’t exactly “fine” but he wasn’t making me feel like shit anymore.

[I know, right? The falls are amazing and the wheel is just incredible. The tree district has all kinds of stores but the elevator sucks. I hate going up it.]

[Elevators? For real?]

[They have a system of baskets and ropes and weights to shoot you up to different levels of the trees. I nearly lose my lunch every time.]

[Ewww. Actually, are there any good places for lunch?]

[Best place on the tree, hands down, is the Acorn Pub. Try the pottage. It’s really tasty.]

[Sure. So... Marianne is the elf chick in the forge, right? That girl is intense. Beefy too.]

[Half-elf, half-dwarf but yeah, sorry, she can be a little intimidating. But she’s a good person at heart. Just kind of protective.]

[Syd and her got into an argument. Thought they were going to kill each other. Then this girl stepped in. Said her name was Zoey?]

[Yeah?]

[She was super nice. Got me a discount for a new sword and worked really fast to hammer it out. You should have seen her, the girl was going full beastmode on that metal. I swear she could have picked me up over her shoulders and carried me around.]

I laughed out loud at that. I didn’t quite know if I should take it as a compliment or not. My family glanced at me, curiously and I shrunk down and tried to avoid their interest. I tried to get back on topic.

[Zoey is really nice.] It felt strange to refer to myself in the third person and even try to talk myself up.

[Uh, yeah, she's taking me around to see the city tomorrow.]

[That should be fun.]

[Seriously, bro, you have all these cute, muscled girls hanging around this city. You’ve been holding out on me.]

I felt my face redden as I realized that my best friend thought I was cute. I was, of course, painfully reminded of Pastor Benny’s sermon and the feelings soured. I gritted my teeth a little.

[I hope you two have fun together.]

[I mean, sure, but I’m missing you, too, man.]

I just stared at the screen, feeling like garbage for a moment. Gavin kept typing and the dagger in my stomach twisted worse.

[What’s going on with you?]

I snapped the chat window closed, my heart racing. I even took the second step of muting his messages. They could just pile up in my inbox forever, because I couldn’t answer him. I would just have to make up for it in RoEM by treating him to an amazing experience when I was Zoey again. Maybe he would forget about this old male friend of his. A girl could hope.

Instead, I checked the second message I had received. It was Beth.

[Hey! Sorry I didn’t get this to you sooner! Things are kind of crazy right now...

Leon told me about what you did for that kid and I wanted to let you know how proud I am of you! I can’t think of anyone else who deserves to be a Guardian more than you, Zoey. I know that you’ll do some amazing things with us!]

What followed was a link labeled “Guardians of RoEM-Server CST.”

I clicked it and it brought up a Discourse server.

I had used a few of them in the past to coordinate raids in other MMOs, and while I wasn’t unfamiliar, they always came off as a little intimidating. They were essentially massive open threads separated by specific topics. General Interest, RoEM Events, Help/Guidance, Planning/Coordination, R&D and others. By the looks of it, the roster of the Guardians currently stood at about sixty or seventy people. The Mods, or, the people in charge of the server, had differently colored names. 

My own username was defaulted to Guest2357, which I would probably want to change.

All of the channels appeared to be locked to me, as they were grayed out, save for one. “Introductions.”

The forum header read that all new members had to give their first name, pronouns, where they were located in RoEM and list who they were referred by, before they could be allowed in. I made a point of changing my channel username to Z03yBright and posted.

[Zoey. She/Her. Whiteoak Falls. Beth and Leon.]

I waited for a moment and was surprised to see a quick reply from a mod named DianasChosen.

[Hi Zoey! Welcome to the Guardians! You are now a member and should have full access to the server. Please DM me if you have any questions! Happy to have you! -Beth]

And, just like that, it opened up. I browsed through the server’s channels and there was just so much overwhelming information I nearly gasped out loud. 

The R&D channel was currently being dominated by a user named HannRKey who was talking about how high level alchemy worked in RoEM with accompanying charts and tables I could make no sense of.

The Questions channel appeared to be the best place to start, and it appeared that Leon, under the username Ironclad, was answering most of the questions. I could identify him as his profile listed him as City Guard- Whiteoak Falls. A lot of the newer members seemed just as confused as I was about what was happening. Leon appeared to be trying to reinforce what he had told me when we spoke about the Guardians of RoEM.

[I understand the urge to go full “troll hunter” mode and try to systematically PK griefers on sight. I know that TwoWheelValkyrie and GreenWithEnvy have been going that route, and while I’m not condemning them, I will say that you have to do these things carefully. 

The locals are already nervous and if they see a human civil war erupting, they’re going to panic. Remember that the Guardians’ most powerful weapon is information. 

Documents and reports give us the ability to track problem users and protect people. A sword doesn’t do much unless you learn both how and when to swing it. 

Frankly, the most useful strategy we’ve been using is just reporting them. RoEM does have a Terms of Service policy <Link>

Read it over and if you see griefers in breach of TOS, just bring up the quitscreen. If you look carefully, there is a button in the upper right corner labeled “report”. Just give your testimony when prompted and the admin AI will follow up on it. It’s not always flawless, but it works.]

I considered reading the TOS but the moment I brought up the link, my eyes crossed as I looked through the dense legalese. I closed it. I saw that someone, GreenWithEnvy, had posted a reply to Leon’s post.

[If the admin AI was working, we wouldn’t be up to our eyeballs in fascist Nazi chuds running around the game in the first place. We wouldn’t have to say “hey admin-bot, please ban these racist shitheads, please and thank you” because they’d automatically be gone. I’ve seen free-to-play games that had better moderation than this. There’s a petition going around asking RoEM corporate for a refund and I can’t exactly fault them because this should have been fixed in fucking beta. Don’t get me wrong, plugging assholes with arrows is fun and all, but I’m tired of doing the work that should be done by RoEM corporate.]

I frowned as I read that. Whoever GreenWithEnvy was (their avatar was a graphic of three green arrows pointed downward) I wasn’t sure if I agreed with what they were doing. If I had killed Steven the moment I saw him, I’d never have been able to help him. But… with people like Jacob… was there any chance of saving them? Was the only solution to kill them outright? I sighed, shaking my head as I couldn’t quite bring myself to answer.

Another post popped up, written by HannRKey.

[My sources in the company are telling me that they’re *trying* to fix it, but I worry that this is something they can’t fix with the tools they have. They’re trying to use the AI to do moderation duties that would normally be performed by an entire team. Don’t get me wrong, the system is impressive, but I’m not sure that they can outsource determining what is or isn’t bigotry to a computer program.]

Green had a valid point, I supposed. Runes of Rath did have human moderators that would ban people if they did racist or sexist or generally shitty things. Though I couldn’t understand why the AI wouldn’t be able to fix this. Marianne was unbelievably realistic. She was kind, sweet and stood up for others. If there was an AI that was controlling her, it had to be smart enough to be able to find and stop the griefers. Whatever HannRKey said, I knew the AI was able to spot the griefers for what they were.

But I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t stopping them if that was true.

Was there a way for me to ask? I wasn’t certain if Marianne would understand… or if it was even worth talking to the AI like a person in the first place.

But as I looked up towards the front of the car, I felt that the AI driving the car was a better person than Dad.

And besides, it was gratifying to know that there were others ready to fight for our home. We weren't alone in this fight. There were people willing to stand up against hate. And together, I knew that we could win.