Three days later—
Xheavend disappeared.
Not literally.
Although Lster's reaction suggested he would have preferred that.
"Where were you?"
Xheavend continued walking.
The eastern entrance of Goro's house opened around her, living-gold jaws drawing apart while violet light spilled across the floor.
Behind her—
three sets of footsteps followed.
Unfortunately.
"Little Lady."
Xheavend winced.
Wten.
He only called her that when he was irritated.
Which meant this was going to become a conversation.
"I was out."
"We noticed."
Fyr sounded considerably less angry.
Mostly because Fyr rarely sounded angry.
He stored it.
Quietly.
Like a reasonable person stored knives.
Lster did not store anything.
Especially opinions.
"You disappeared for four hours."
Xheavend pulled off one glove.
"Three."
"Four."
"Three and a half."
"That isn't better."
"I didn't say it was."
She reached the inner staircase.
Lster stepped in front of her.
Xheavend stopped.
Slowly.
"Move."
"No."
"Lster."
"Where did you go?"
"Somewhere."
"That's not an answer."
"It continues to be one."
His jaw tightened.
Behind him—
Yzer appeared.
Xheavend's stomach dropped.
Lavender skin.
Elegant clothes.
Hands folded behind his back.
Smiling.
He stood directly behind Lster's shoulder.
Close enough that if he had been real—
his chin could have rested against the boy's head.
Xheavend looked away.
Bad decision.
Yzer shifted with her gaze.
Now beside Wten.
Still smiling.
"Did you hear him?"
Xheavend kept her eyes on Lster.
"Move."
"No."
"You're being irritating."
"Good."
"Lster."
"You left without telling anyone."
"I don't need permission."
"You need guards."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"I could kill all three of you before breakfast."
Wten sighed.
"Can we stop using that as evidence?"
"It is evidence."
"It's threatening."
"Both can be true."
Lster folded his arms.
"You're twelve."
Xheavend's eye twitched.
"And?"
"And you keep leaving like nobody is supposed to notice."
"I went to the lower markets."
"Alone."
"There were thousands of people."
"Those aren't guards."
"I don't need guards!"
Her voice cracked through the hall.
Several servants looked over.
Hrashtari appeared at the top of the staircase.
She took one look at them—
and started descending.
Too late.
Lster stepped closer.
"That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"You keep doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Acting like nobody cares whether you come back."
Something inside Xheavend went still.
Yzer's smile widened.
Lster didn't see.
Didn't know.
Couldn't know.
Xheavend's head had been aching since morning.
She had slept—
maybe—
twenty minutes.
Possibly thirty.
She had lost track.
The walls seemed too bright.
Every sound carried an edge.
Her bandages scratched beneath her collar.
A bruised line beneath her ribs pulsed whenever she breathed.
Yzer had done that one before dawn.
Just because he could.
He leaned toward her.
"Careful."
Xheavend's teeth clenched.
Lster continued.
"We spend half our time looking for you."
"I didn't ask you to."
"No. You don't ask anyone for anything."
"Good."
"That's not good."
"Why do you care?"
Lster stared at her.
Xheavend knew immediately—
wrong question.
Too late.
"Because Goro told us to."
There was something beneath it.
Something he didn't say.
Xheavend heard it anyway.
She laughed.
Short.
Mean.
"Exactly."
Lster's face changed.
"Exactly what?"
"You don't care."
"That's not what I said."
"You care because Goro told you to."
"I didn't—"
"You're doing a job."
"Xhea."
"Stop calling me that."
Silence.
Lster blinked.
Wten looked at Fyr.
Fyr looked at Hrashtari approaching.
Hrashtari moved faster.
Yzer moved closer.
"Oh."
His voice was soft.
"That hurt him."
Xheavend ignored him.
Lster's expression hardened.
"I call you that every day."
"I don't care."
"Clearly."
"Leave me alone."
"No."
Xheavend's head snapped toward him.
"Why?"
"Because somebody has to stop you from doing stupid things!"
"I can take care of myself."
"Obviously not."
Her hands curled.
"Lster."
"No."
He stepped closer.
"You disappear. You don't sleep. You barely eat unless Hrashtari makes you. You come back bleeding and pretend nobody sees."
Xheavend froze.
Hrashtari stopped two steps above them.
Wten's face changed.
Fyr stopped looking amused.
Lster had noticed.
Of course he had.
Xheavend hated him for that.
"You don't know anything."
"Then tell us."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because it isn't your business."
"It becomes my business when I spend four hours thinking you're dead somewhere!"
The words struck harder than they should have.
Yzer drifted behind Lster again.
His lips curved.
"Interesting."
Xheavend's breathing changed.
Lster continued.
"Do you know how many alleys we checked?"
"I didn't ask you to look."
"Stop saying that!"
"I DON'T NEED YOU!"
The hall went silent.
Lster stared at her.
Xheavend heard the words echo.
She should have stopped.
Apologized.
Walked away.
She didn't.
She was tired.
Too tired.
Everything beneath her skin hurt.
Yzer was smiling.
Something dark had been whispering in the back of her mind since morning.
Push.
Push.
Push.
Lster's voice dropped.
"Maybe that's your problem."
Xheavend laughed again.
"You wouldn't understand."
His expression vanished.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Empty.
"Wouldn't I?"
Xheavend knew.
Immediately.
His parents.
Dead.
Wten's too.
Fyr's.
All three.
Goro had taken them in because there had been nobody else.
She knew.
She knew.
And still—
the cruel thing came.
"At least nobody chose to leave you."
Hrashtari inhaled sharply.
Wten whispered,
"Xhea."
Fyr closed his eyes.
Lster didn't move.
For half a heartbeat—
Xheavend wanted to drag the words back into her mouth.
Yzer leaned beside her ear.
"There you are."
She flinched.
Lster saw.
Misunderstood.
Good.
Maybe.
His eyes went wet.
He blinked once.
Anger swallowed it.
"My parents may be dead..."
Xheavend's stomach turned.
"...but your family clearly doesn't want you."
Everything stopped.
Not the room.
Her.
Yzer smiled behind him.
Slowly.
Beautifully.
Like he'd been waiting.
Lster's mouth was already open again.
He knew.
She saw the exact second he knew he'd crossed something.
Too late for him too.
"Don't you have twelve brothers?"
Xheavend's face emptied.
Her brothers.
Tavran.
Varin.
Rez.
Kolaus.
Icardà.
Hries.
Uiris.
Lvador.
Wulftin.
Nior.
Juben.
Zeryn.
Twelve.
Twelve people who had once made privacy impossible.
Twelve people who—
hadn't come.
Lster swallowed.
He could stop.
He almost did.
He was fourteen.
Furious.
Hurt.
So he finished it.
"Even they don't want you."
Yzer's smile became radiant.
Lster shoved her.
Not hard.
Hard enough.
Xheavend hit him.
Her fist connected with his mouth.
A wet crack.
Lster went sideways.
Struck a table.
Collapsed.
Silence.
Hrashtari screamed,
"XHEAVEND!"
Lster looked up.
Blood ran from his split lip.
Xheavend stood frozen.
Her knuckles burned.
For one second—
she thought it was over.
Then Lster launched himself at her.
"IDIOT!"
He hit her around the middle.
They went down.
The table overturned.
Something ceramic shattered.
Xheavend grabbed his hair.
Lster yelled.
He elbowed her ribs.
She kneed him.
He rolled.
She rolled with him.
A fist hit her shoulder.
Xheavend punched him in the jaw.
No technique.
No stance.
No control.
Nothing Goro had taught either of them.
Just—
twelve.
Fourteen.
Angry.
Hurting.
Stupid.
"STOP!"
Wten grabbed Lster.
Xheavend kicked.
Her heel hit Wten's thigh.
He swore.
Fyr tried to pull her backward.
She swung.
Her elbow caught him directly in the nose.
Fyr staggered away.
Both hands flew to his face.
"Oh."
Blood immediately poured between his fingers.
"Oh, that's bad."
Hrashtari made a sound Xheavend had never heard from another living being.
"ALL OF YOU STOP!"
Nobody listened.
Lster broke free.
He tackled Xheavend over a chair.
The chair died.
Goro would call it replaceable.
Hrashtari would not appreciate this.
Xheavend barely registered it.
Yzer walked around them.
Calm.
Elegant.
Untouched by the chaos.
"He's right."
Xheavend punched Lster.
Harder.
His head snapped sideways.
"They left you."
Again.
Her fist connected with his ribs.
"All twelve."
Lster hit her cheek.
White exploded across her vision.
"Your mother."
Xheavend screamed.
She tackled him.
They crashed through another table.
Wood splintered.
Lster swore.
"Your father."
Something broke.
Not furniture.
Inside.
Xheavend's fingers closed around Lster's shirt.
She raised her fist.
Yzer crouched beside them.
His face inches from hers.
"Nobody came."
Her fist shook.
Lster stared up at her.
Nose bleeding.
Mouth bleeding.
One eye already swelling.
And behind him—
Yzer.
Smiling.
End roared.
ENOUGH.
Not at Lster.
At him.
The word hit Xheavend's skull like thunder.
Then—
pain.
Her fist dropped.
Xheavend gasped.
Something snapped inside her wrist.
No.
Shifted.
Her fingers spread.
Bones moved beneath skin.
Not breaking.
Rearranging.
Her forearm lengthened.
Muscle pulled.
Redistributed.
Xheavend screamed.
Lster's anger vanished.
"What—"
Her shoulders jerked.
The world tilted.
No.
Her body tilted.
Her center changed.
Weight moved through hips.
Spine.
Chest.
Legs.
Her clothing tightened in some places—
loosened in others.
Xheavend rolled away from Lster.
She hit the floor.
Hard.
Hands braced beneath her.
Wrong.
Her hands were wrong.
Larger.
Longer fingers.
Different knuckles.
"What is happening?"
Her own voice answered her.
Lower.
Xheavend froze.
Everyone froze.
Hrashtari went pale.
Fyr slowly lowered his blood-covered hands.
Wten stared.
Lster remained on the floor.
Xheavend touched her throat.
The shape beneath her fingers was different.
Her breath came faster.
She looked down.
Body—
wrong.
No.
Not wrong.
Different.
That terrified her more.
Her clothes no longer sat correctly.
Her sleeves pulled differently over her arms.
Her boots felt slightly too small.
Her legs seemed longer.
Her shoulders—
broader.
Muscle sat differently beneath skin.
Her face—
she touched it.
Jaw.
Cheek.
Nose.
Still hers.
Somehow.
Unmistakably.
But changed.
Male.
Lster whispered,
"...Xhea?"
Xheavend recoiled.
Nobody had touched her.
Nobody had asked.
Her body had simply—
changed.
Without permission.
No.
No.
No.
Not again.
Not another thing deciding what happened to her body.
Not Yzer.
Not blood.
Not pain.
Not sleep.
Not this.
She stumbled upright.
Almost fell immediately because the floor was suddenly the wrong distance away.
Wten moved.
"Wait—"
"Don't."
Her voice came low again.
Wrong enough to make panic spike.
"Don't touch me."
Hrashtari lifted both hands.
"Little Lady—"
Xheavend ran.
She hit the first wall.
Not intentionally.
Her shoulder clipped the doorway because she misjudged the distance.
Pain shot down her arm.
Didn't matter.
She kept running.
Down the western corridor.
Up the spiral stairs.
Past two servants.
One stared.
Xheavend pulled her hood over her face.
Wrong balance.
Wrong stride.
Wrong weight.
Her body kept trying to move the way it had twenty minutes earlier.
It couldn't.
She stumbled over the top stair.
Caught herself.
Ran again.
"Goro!"
No answer.
"Goro!"
Doors.
Hallways.
Purple fire.
Green crystal.
Gold.
Too much.
"Goro!"
His study door opened before she reached it.
Goro stepped out.
Xheavend nearly collided with him.
He caught her shoulders.
She jerked away immediately.
"Don't."
Goro released her.
Silence.
His eyes moved over her.
Once.
Then again.
Xheavend wrapped both arms around herself.
"Say something."
Goro said nothing.
His gaze sharpened.
Then—
he smiled.
Xheavend's fear turned immediately into fury.
"Why are you smiling?"
Goro's smile remained.
"Because I wondered."
Her stomach dropped.
"Wondered what?"
He circled her.
Xheavend turned with him.
"Goro."
He studied her posture.
Hands.
Shoulders.
Face.
"Ascendant puberty can produce physical instability."
Xheavend stared.
"Physical—"
She pointed violently at herself.
"THIS is instability?"
Goro considered.
"A dramatic example."
"DRAMATIC?"
"Yes."
"I have a different body!"
"I noticed."
"STOP BEING CALM."
"Would panic improve the situation?"
"YES."
"No."
"It would make me feel better!"
"Briefly."
Xheavend hated him.
Possibly.
Goro gestured toward the study.
"Inside."
She hesitated.
Then entered.
He closed the door.
Xheavend immediately found the nearest reflective surface.
A black mirror.
She stared.
The person staring back—
was her.
That was the disturbing part.
Black hair.
Eyes.
Expression.
Bandages beneath clothing.
Same scars.
Same irritation.
Same—
Xheavend.
But male.
Older-looking, perhaps.
Not older.
Different structure.
Jaw stronger.
Neck slightly thicker.
Shoulders wider.
Height—
she stared.
"Am I taller?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Body proportions."
"Fix it."
"I can't."
Xheavend spun around.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I mean I cannot simply order your Ascendant physiology to reverse itself."
"You order everything else."
"Not this."
"You're useless."
"I'll survive."
She glared at the mirror again.
Goro moved beside her.
"Ascendants do not always mature according to the biological expectations of their birth species."
Xheavend said nothing.
"The body is only one component."
"One component of what?"
"You."
She looked at him.
Goro continued.
"Domain."
He raised one finger.
"Soul."
Another.
"Identity."
Another.
"Body."
Another.
"Power."
Another.
"Environment."
Another.
Then—
"Stress."
Xheavend's jaw tightened.
"Trauma."
The word made something ugly move behind her ribs.
Goro's hand lowered.
"During maturation, those elements can interact unpredictably."
Xheavend looked back at the mirror.
"Meaning?"
"Some Ascendants grow far beyond the expected height of their species."
"That's stupid."
"Some develop traits belonging to no known species at all."
"Also stupid."
"Some manifest additional physical states."
Her eyes moved toward him.
"Some stop resembling the species they were born as entirely."
Xheavend swallowed.
"And some..."
Goro looked directly at her reflection.
"...develop bodies capable of expressing more than one physical sex."
The library.
The record.
A name resurfaced.
"Cree."
Goro smiled again.
Xheavend hated that smile.
"Ascendant of Rebirth."
"He can switch."
"Yes."
"Whenever he wants."
"According to surviving records."
"Male and female."
"Yes."
"And nobody knows which one came first."
"Several people claimed to."
"Which means nobody knows."
"Correct."
Xheavend looked down at her hands.
"So this is the same."
"No."
She turned.
"What?"
"Cree's transformations were controlled."
Goro leaned against the desk.
"Intentional. Repeatable. Understood."
"Mine isn't?"
"You ran into my study after punching Lster."
"How did you know that?"
"The blood on your knuckles."
Xheavend looked.
Oh.
"And Hrashtari screamed loudly enough to frighten half the western servants."
Also fair.
Goro continued.
"Your transformation appears to have been triggered."
"By what?"
"I don't know."
"You said puberty."
"Possibly."
"Stress."
"Possibly."
"Trauma."
"Possibly."
"That's a lot of possibly."
"Reality often refuses convenient explanations."
She crossed her arms.
The gesture felt strange now.
Everything felt strange.
"Could Yzer have caused it?"
Goro's expression changed.
"No."
Certain.
Immediate.
Xheavend looked at him.
"Stress caused by him may have contributed to the timing."
A pause.
"But this ability is yours."
Something in her chest loosened.
Tiny.
Barely.
Goro continued.
"He does not get ownership of it simply because he has made your life painful."
Xheavend looked away.
The mirror caught her again.
Male.
Still there.
Her fingers tightened against her sleeves.
"What if I stay like this?"
"You stay like this."
"What if I change back?"
"Then you change back."
"What if I can't?"
"We adapt."
"What if it keeps happening?"
"We learn."
Xheavend hated how simple he made everything sound.
"So which am I?"
Goro's face went still.
The question had come out quieter than she intended.
She looked at herself.
Then him.
"Girl?"
Silence.
"Boy?"
Goro didn't answer.
Xheavend frowned.
"Well?"
"That isn't my decision."
She stared.
"You're the one who knows everything."
"No."
A pause.
"I know many things."
He reached forward.
Tapped one finger against her forehead.
Xheavend swatted his hand away.
"I don't get to decide this one."
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
Goro looked toward the mirror.
Then back at her.
"You decide what you want to become."
Xheavend's throat tightened.
No pressure.
No answer.
No order.
No—
You are this.
No—
You belong here.
No—
You are mine.
Just—
decide.
Her decision.
Whenever she was ready.
That frightened her almost as much as the transformation.
Because she had forgotten what choices felt like.
Goro's eyes narrowed.
Xheavend saw it happen.
Recognition.
Calculation.
Interest.
Her stomach sank.
"...What?"
Goro smiled.
"No."
"Why are you smiling like that?"
"This is useful."
Xheavend stared.
"I hate you."
Goro moved around her again.
"Your reach has increased."
"Goro."
"Center of gravity shifted."
"Goro."
"Muscle distribution changed."
"Goro."
"Stride length."
"Goro."
"Shoulder rotation."
"Goro."
"Weapon balance."
"GORO."
He stopped.
Xheavend pointed at him.
"Please stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you discovered a new weapon."
A beat.
"I discovered a new weapon."
Xheavend's mouth fell open.
"I am twelve."
"A very adaptable weapon."
"GORO."
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Xheavend considered throwing the mirror at him.
Then—
his expression changed.
Not completely.
Just enough.
That look.
The one that made her skin crawl sometimes.
Not because it was cruel.
Because it reminded her of someone.
Her father.
Zcain had looked at her like that.
Sometimes.
Like he had already calculated every possible way something could hurt her—
and every possible way he could kill it.
Xheavend stopped.
Home came violently.
Not the place.
People.
Her father lifting her when she was still small enough to disappear against his chest.
Her mother correcting the way he held her because apparently Ascendants of Sin could fight universes but couldn't properly support a baby's head.
Zcain insisting he absolutely could.
Rnarah informing him he absolutely could not.
Twelve brothers surrounding them.
Too close.
Always too close.
After she'd returned to life as a baby—
nobody had wanted her out of sight.
Her parents had been terrible.
Her brothers had been worse.
Especially Tavran.
Tavran checking doors.
Tavran checking windows.
Tavran following her through hallways.
Tavran refusing to let servants carry her unless he personally knew them.
Tavran appearing whenever she cried.
Varin stealing her toys.
Then returning them because she cried harder.
Rezorin threatening furniture after she hit her head on a table.
Kolaus informing him the furniture was not legally responsible.
Icardà checking every bruise.
Hries sitting beside her when she was sad and saying nothing until she spoke.
Uiris knowing when she wanted company.
Lvador bringing food.
Wulftin teaching her things their parents definitely had not approved.
Nior hugging too much.
Juben making her laugh when she was trying to remain angry.
Zeryn stealing her chair every opportunity he got.
She'd hated it.
All of it.
The hovering.
The noise.
The lack of privacy.
The constant—
"Where are you going?"
"Who are you with?"
"Did you eat?"
"Why are you climbing that?"
"Put that down."
"Get off the roof."
"Xheavend."
"Xheavend."
"XHEAVEND."
Her throat closed.
She would give almost anything—
anything—
to be annoyed by them again.
Lster's words returned.
Don't you have twelve brothers?
Even they don't want you.
Xheavend lowered her head.
"Goro?"
"Hm?"
"Where's Q?"
"Mission."
Of course.
Her hands curled.
"How long?"
"Longer than expected."
Xheavend's hands curled tighter.
"How much longer?"
Goro was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know."
Of course.
People left.
She remained.
Goro studied her.
Xheavend hated that too.
He knew.
Probably.
Not everything.
But enough.
Before either could speak—
the door burst open.
Hrashtari entered.
Behind her—
Lster.
Wten.
Fyr.
Fyr had cloth stuffed beneath his nose.
Lster looked terrible.
Excellent.
Xheavend probably looked equally terrible.
Less excellent.
Hrashtari stopped.
Her gaze went directly to Xheavend.
Concern softened something in her face.
"Little Lady."
Xheavend looked away.
Lster stared at the floor.
Goro's voice changed.
"Close the door."
Wten did.
Goro looked at each of them.
"What happened in the lower hall does not leave this room."
Hrashtari nodded immediately.
Fyr too.
Wten followed.
Lster didn't move.
Goro looked at him.
"Lster."
"I heard you."
"That was not agreement."
Lster's jaw tightened.
Then—
"Fine."
"No servants."
Goro's gaze moved through them.
"No instructors unless I personally approve them."
Then—
"No Q."
Xheavend's head snapped up.
"Why not Q?"
Goro looked at her.
"Because the fewer people who know a secret, the fewer ways it can escape."
"He wouldn't tell anyone."
"That isn't the only way secrets escape."
Xheavend thought of Yzer.
Her stomach tightened.
She understood.
She hated understanding.
"Fine."
Goro turned toward the others.
"If anyone asks, nothing unusual occurred."
Fyr pointed at his nose.
"What do I say about this?"
"That Xheavend punched you."
"Technically she elbowed me."
"Then say that."
Fyr sighed.
"Good."
Lster still hadn't looked at her.
Xheavend didn't want him to.
Then—
lavender appeared beside Goro.
Yzer.
Xheavend's entire body locked.
But something was wrong.
His expression.
Not smiling.
Not amused.
Confused.
He looked around the room.
At Hrashtari.
Lster.
Wten.
Fyr.
Goro.
Then Xheavend.
His eyes narrowed.
"What happened?"
Xheavend didn't breathe.
He couldn't see it.
Not properly.
End had done something.
Yzer stepped closer.
"What are you hiding?"
Silence.
Then—
End answered from somewhere deep inside her.
Her.
Yzer's face went flat.
No smile.
No playfulness.
Nothing.
Xheavend stared.
A realization moved slowly through her.
End could hide things from him.
Not everything.
But—
something.
This.
Her.
Twenty minutes ago Xheavend had believed Yzer could reach every part of her existence.
Every thought eventually.
Every wound.
Every weakness.
Every secret.
Wrong.
There was something he didn't know.
Something hers.
Xheavend looked at her unfamiliar hands.
And for once—
they frightened her slightly less.
The next morning—
Goro knocked her flat.
Xheavend stared at the ceiling.
"Again."
"No."
"Again."
"I just learned how to walk properly."
"Excellent."
"I hate you."
"Stand."
She stood.
Too fast.
Her balance shifted.
Xheavend windmilled both arms.
Lster laughed.
She spun.
"You."
His smile vanished.
"What?"
Xheavend punched him.
"OW!"
Goro nodded.
"Excellent recovery."
Hrashtari, from the doorway:
"No."
Goro looked over.
"She recovered."
"By punching Lster."
"Effective."
Lster rubbed his shoulder.
"I hate this house."
Nobody believed him.
Day two—
archery betrayed her.
Xheavend drew.
Released.
The arrow flew over the target.
Over the wall.
Over another wall.
A distant scream followed.
Silence.
Xheavend lowered the bow.
Goro stared at her.
"...That was deliberate."
"No."
"It could have been."
"No."
She glared.
Her shoulders felt wrong.
Not weak.
Stronger.
Different.
The draw had changed.
The tension she knew by instinct no longer matched the strength pulling against it.
Again.
She nocked.
Drew less.
Released.
Too low.
Again.
Too far left.
Again.
Center.
Xheavend smiled.
Goro immediately increased the distance.
She stopped smiling.
"I hate you."
"I know."
By sunset—
she could shoot without thinking again.
Almost.
Day four—
the sword felt like somebody else's.
Her hand wrapped differently around the hilt.
Reach longer.
Stance wrong.
Footwork wrong.
Everything she'd built over years—
wrong.
Xheavend attacked Goro.
He parried.
"Feet."
She adjusted.
"Too wide."
She adjusted again.
"Shoulder."
"Goro."
"Again."
She swung.
He knocked the sword from her hand.
"Again."
She picked it up.
Attacked.
He disarmed her.
Again.
Again.
Again.
By the ninth time—
Xheavend screamed and threw the sword at him.
Goro caught it.
"Poor form."
She lunged barehanded.
"Better."
Day six—
Lster volunteered.
That was a mistake.
"I can help."
Xheavend looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because you've spent five days complaining."
"Six."
"That's worse."
Goro pointed toward the ring.
"Go."
Lster entered.
Xheavend followed.
They stood opposite each other.
The bruises from their real fight hadn't fully disappeared.
Lster's nose was still slightly swollen.
Xheavend's cheek had faded from purple to ugly yellow.
Neither had apologized.
Not yet.
Goro raised one hand.
"Begin."
Lster moved.
Xheavend's body wanted her old angle.
She corrected too late.
He caught her around the waist.
Her feet left the ground.
"What—"
Lster slammed her down.
Xheavend hit the mat.
Air vanished from her lungs.
Lster grinned.
Xheavend stared up.
Then swept his legs.
He fell.
She climbed on top of him.
He rolled.
She elbowed.
He blocked.
They grappled.
Different.
Everything different.
Her weight sat differently across him.
Her leverage was stronger.
Arms longer.
Hips less useful for movements she had relied on before.
Shoulders more useful.
She adjusted.
Lster noticed.
His grin vanished.
"Oh, no."
Xheavend hooked his arm.
Turned.
Pinned him.
Goro said,
"Three."
Lster struggled.
"Two."
"GET OFF."
"One."
Xheavend released him.
Lster rolled over.
"You cheated."
"How?"
"I don't know yet."
"Then shut up."
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
Silence.
Then Lster muttered,
"...I'm sorry."
Xheavend stopped.
He stared at the mat.
"For what I said."
Her jaw tightened.
"You meant it."
"I was angry."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
He finally looked up.
"I didn't mean it."
Xheavend said nothing.
Lster swallowed.
"I know what it's like when people don't come back."
That hurt.
More than the insult.
"So I shouldn't have said it."
Xheavend picked at one loose thread on her sleeve.
"I shouldn't have said your parents didn't choose to leave."
Lster blinked.
She hated apologies.
They felt like pulling teeth through the throat.
"I knew better."
A pause.
"Sorry."
Lster nodded.
Then—
"You hit really hard."
Xheavend stared.
"That's what you're saying now?"
"My jaw still clicks."
"Good."
He grinned.
And something repaired itself.
Not completely.
But enough.
Day eight—
Xheavend stole Wten's food.
He watched her do it.
His expression slowly changed.
"Hey."
Xheavend bit into the roasted thing she'd stolen.
"Goro says I need more calories."
"Those were mine."
"Not anymore."
"You have an entire plate."
"I finished it."
Wten looked at the empty plate.
Then at her.
Then at Goro.
Goro continued reading.
"She's correct."
Wten looked betrayed.
"About what?"
"She requires more calories."
"WHY MY CALORIES?"
Xheavend stole another piece.
"Because yours are closest."
Fyr slid his plate away.
Smart.
Lster covered his with both arms.
Smarter.
Hrashtari walked into the room.
Saw all four.
Saw Xheavend chewing.
Saw Wten's emptying plate.
"Little Lady."
Xheavend pointed at Goro.
"He prescribed theft."
"I did not."
"You implied it."
"I did not."
"Close enough."
Hrashtari closed her eyes.
Briefly.
Probably praying.
To what—
Xheavend didn't know.
Possibly patience.
Day ten—
something changed.
Nobody announced it.
There was no moment.
No agreement.
No ceremony.
The boys simply—
stopped guarding her.
Not completely.
They still followed when Goro ordered it.
Still watched crowds.
Still positioned themselves around her whenever strangers moved too close.
But inside the house—
they stopped treating Xheavend like the little lady.
They started treating her like—
"Move your foot."
"No."
"Lster."
"It's comfortable."
"Your foot is on me."
"Exactly."
Xheavend kicked him off the couch.
Lster hit the floor.
Wten laughed so hard he dropped food.
Fyr stole it.
"THAT WAS MINE."
"Not anymore."
Xheavend pointed.
"See? Learning."
"You've corrupted him."
"I improved him."
"You steal everyone's food."
"Only when hungry."
"You're always hungry now."
"Goro's fault."
From across the room:
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Lster threw a cushion at Xheavend.
She caught it.
Threw it back.
Wten intercepted.
Fyr joined.
Within thirty seconds—
the common room became war.
Hrashtari entered.
Stopped.
A cushion hit her.
Nobody moved.
Slowly—
she picked it up.
All four stared.
Goro looked up from his book.
Hrashtari smiled.
Xheavend whispered,
"Oh, no."
The cushion hit Lster directly in the face.
Chaos resumed.
Later—
all four fell asleep in the common room.
Not Xheavend.
She pretended.
Lster's leg hung over one chair.
Wten was half beneath a blanket.
Fyr had somehow ended up on the floor.
Xheavend sat between them.
Male.
Still.
Different.
But—
not wrong.
That realization came quietly.
The boys treated her differently now.
Not because they thought she was another person.
They still called her Xhea.
Still annoyed her.
Still knew exactly which foods she hated.
Still complained about her threats.
Still followed her.
But something shifted.
They bumped shoulders more.
Started rougher fights without assuming she needed protection.
Dragged her into competitions.
Called her one of us without ever saying what us meant.
Boy.
Brother.
Idiot.
Friend.
Whatever.
Xheavend wasn't sure.
She only knew—
being included among them did not make her less herself.
It was simply another shape of being allowed to exist.
She liked that.
That frightened her too.
Most things worth liking seemed to.
Btyametzati was insane.
Xheavend decided this seven seconds after the match began.
The arena erupted.
Thousands screamed from black stone terraces surrounding an enormous oval field.
Three vertical rings stood at staggered heights on either end.
Two narrow scoring trenches cut through the ground near the outer edges.
A raised circular platform occupied the center.
Nine players on each side.
Eighteen total.
All apparently attempting murder while remaining technically within the rules.
The metz launched into the air.
Xheavend leaned forward.
It was alive.
Not—
fully.
Probably.
The ball was made from a semi-living elastic material that compressed whenever struck.
One player caught it.
Ran.
"Five!" Fyr shouted.
The player took five steps.
On the sixth—
he threw the metz backward.
A teammate caught it.
"Why five?" Xheavend shouted over the crowd.
"Carry limit!"
"Why?"
Fyr looked offended.
"Because that's the rule!"
"That's not a reason!"
The next player kicked the metz.
It compressed into a dense black sphere—
then expanded mid-flight.
Someone struck it with a curved arm-guard.
The entire arena roared.
The metz shot upward.
Through one vertical ring.
"THREE!" Lster screamed.
Xheavend flinched.
"WHY ARE YOU YELLING IN MY EAR?"
"THREE POINTS!"
"I CAN SEE."
Wten leaned over them.
"Twenty bites says Green takes the match."
"What bites?"
"Food."
Xheavend stared.
"What food?"
"Whatever I have at dinner."
"You're gambling dinner?"
"Yes."
"You're stupid."
"Want in?"
"...Yes."
Hrashtari sat behind them.
"I regret bringing all of you."
Fyr suddenly jumped to his feet.
"ILLEGAL FORWARD!"
Xheavend looked down.
"What?"
"The pass!"
"I thought they could pass forward."
"Only if the metz touches ground or an opponent first!"
"That's ridiculous."
"It's strategy!"
On the field—
the metz struck the ground.
Changed density.
A player scooped it.
Ran.
Someone tackled them inside a white-marked section.
Perfectly legal.
Violently legal.
Bodies rolled.
The crowd screamed approval.
Xheavend's eyes widened.
"Can they do that everywhere?"
"No," Fyr said. "Only contact zones."
"What happens outside one?"
"Penalty."
"How much?"
"Depends where."
"How many rules are there?"
Fyr hesitated.
"...A lot."
Magic burst beneath one player's feet.
He launched upward.
"Magic is allowed?"
"For movement!"
"Can you hit someone with it?"
"No."
"Can you make yourself faster?"
"Yes."
"Can you jump higher?"
"Yes."
"Can you move the metz?"
"Not directly."
"What happens if—"
"XHEA."
"What?"
"Watch."
A player stood on the raised center platform.
Another launched the metz using a narrow throwing bat.
The ball compressed.
Shot across half the arena.
A defender leaped.
Missed.
The platform player caught it.
The arena exploded.
Lster grabbed Xheavend by both shoulders.
"SEVEN!"
"STOP TOUCHING ME."
"SEVEN POINTS!"
Xheavend laughed.
She couldn't help it.
The game was stupid.
Violent.
Complicated.
Fast.
Wonderful.
Fyr argued with officials from three hundred feet away.
Wten lost six bites of dinner.
Lster screamed until his voice broke.
Hrashtari buried her face in both hands.
Xheavend laughed harder.
Her stomach hurt.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
Not bad ones.
She wiped one away.
Then—
someone sat beside her.
The laughter stopped.
Yzer.
Lavender.
Perfect posture.
Hands folded elegantly over one knee.
His gaze wasn't on the game.
It was on her.
Xheavend's smile remained.
Barely.
The boys didn't notice him.
Nobody did.
Lster jumped again.
"GO!"
Yzer studied Xheavend's face.
Then the boys.
Then her again.
His expression cooled.
Not angry.
Worse.
Possessive.
"You seem happy."
Xheavend looked back at the field.
Wten shoved food into her hand.
She ate it.
Yzer's eyes followed the movement.
"You've been spending considerable time with them."
End whispered—
Jealous.
Yzer's jaw tightened.
Xheavend almost smiled again.
"Interesting," Yzer murmured.
Xheavend ignored him.
The metz hit a ring.
The crowd erupted.
Lster grabbed her.
She grabbed Fyr.
Fyr screamed a rule nobody else understood.
Wten demanded food payment.
For several minutes—
Xheavend forgot Yzer was there.
That—
more than anything—
made his expression turn cold.
Wisper arrived two days later.
Nobody had invited him.
This seemed irrelevant to Wisper.
The creature appeared in Xheavend's bedroom while she was changing the wrapping on her arm.
One moment—
nothing.
The next—
Wisper.
Xheavend stared.
Wisper stared.
Then he lunged.
Xheavend barely had time to raise both arms before he crashed against her.
"Wisper!"
He made an enormous vibrating sound.
Not quite a purr.
Too threatening.
Possibly affectionate.
His head shoved beneath her chin.
Xheavend laughed.
"You're crushing me."
Wisper continued.
"Move."
Nothing.
"Wisper."
He licked her face.
"Disgusting."
Another lick.
"Stop."
Another.
She hugged him.
"Idiot."
Later—
she introduced him to the boys.
That went poorly.
Wisper stepped into the common room.
Stopped.
Saw Lster.
Growled.
Lster stopped chewing.
"...Does he do that often?"
"Yes."
"Why is he looking at me?"
"He doesn't like you."
"I've never met him."
"He has excellent instincts."
Wten moved slightly behind Fyr.
Fyr noticed.
"Don't use me as a shield."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Wisper walked toward them.
Slowly.
Lster held out one hand.
Xheavend's eyes widened.
"Don't."
"Animals like me."
"Wisper is not an animal."
"Close enough."
"Lster."
He reached.
Wisper bit his finger.
Lster screamed.
"IT BIT ME."
Xheavend folded her arms.
"He likes you."
"HE'S EATING ME."
"Affectionately."
"GET HIM OFF."
Wisper released him.
Sat beside Xheavend.
Looked enormously pleased.
Lster clutched his finger.
"You said he likes me!"
"He didn't remove it."
"THAT'S YOUR STANDARD?"
Wisper growled again.
Lster moved away.
Over the following days—
Wisper became tolerant.
Not friendly.
Never friendly.
He allowed Fyr within three feet.
Wten within two.
Lster—
depended on the day.
Occasionally Wisper slept between Xheavend and all three boys like a living wall.
Whenever Lster crossed it—
growl.
Whenever Wten crossed it—
growl.
Whenever Fyr crossed it—
one eye opened.
Xheavend found this deeply reasonable.
By day sixteen—
Goro stopped letting her fight like herself.
"Again."
Xheavend attacked.
Fast.
Low.
Angle change.
Goro blocked.
She pivoted.
Used momentum.
His.
Not hers.
He caught her wrist.
"Female."
Xheavend frowned.
"What?"
"You're fighting as though you're in your female body."
"I am fighting."
"Incorrectly."
She twisted free.
Attacked again.
Goro knocked her back.
"Your old body favors different mechanics."
"Old?"
"Other."
"Better."
"Emotionally loaded."
"Shut up."
Goro smiled.
"Your female body relied more heavily on speed."
He attacked.
Xheavend blocked.
"Precision."
Strike.
"Agility."
Kick.
"Angles."
She ducked.
"Archery."
Another strike.
"Redirecting force."
Xheavend caught his arm.
Used his momentum.
Goro reversed.
She hit the floor.
"Exactly."
Xheavend stared up at him.
"I hate demonstrations."
"Stand."
She stood.
Goro pointed at her.
"This body gives you different leverage."
He struck.
She blocked.
"Heavier strikes."
Again.
"Broader reach."
Again.
"Different grappling mechanics."
He caught her.
She twisted.
Failed.
"Different weapon comfort."
Xheavend broke free.
Breathing hard.
Goro raised one hand.
"Same mind."
He attacked.
She parried.
"Different body."
She stepped.
Adjusted.
"Same power."
She kicked.
He caught her ankle.
"Different geometry."
Goro yanked.
Xheavend fell.
Again.
She stared at the ceiling.
He looked down.
"Learn both."
Xheavend smiled.
Slowly.
Goro's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, no."
She swept his leg.
He stepped over it.
"Predictable."
"One day."
"Unlikely."
"One day, I'm going to hit you."
"You already have."
"Hard enough that you regret knowing me."
"That remains unlikely."
Xheavend stood.
Again.
Same mind.
Different body.
Same power.
Different geometry.
She attacked.
Twenty days after becoming a boy—
Xheavend reached for bread.
That was all.
Breakfast.
Nothing dramatic.
No training.
No Yzer.
No End.
No screaming.
Just bread.
Her fingers closed around it.
Hrashtari stopped pouring tea.
Lster stopped chewing.
Wten's spoon slipped from his hand.
Clink.
Fyr blinked.
Xheavend frowned.
"What?"
Nobody answered.
She looked down.
Smaller hands.
Familiar fingers.
Her breath stopped.
She touched her throat.
Different.
Again.
She stood too quickly.
The chair scraped backward.
Clothes—
different fit.
Height—
lower.
Center—
shifted.
Female.
Again.
Silence.
Lster stared.
Then—
"...Huh."
Xheavend threw the bread.
It hit him directly in the forehead.
"OW."
"That's all you have to say?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know!"
"You look normal."
Xheavend froze.
Lster froze.
Wten slowly turned toward him.
Fyr whispered,
"Bad choice."
Lster panicked.
"I MEAN—your normal. Not normal-normal. Both were normal. You're you. I meant—"
Xheavend started laughing.
She didn't mean to.
Lster stopped.
"...Are you laughing at me?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He picked the bread off the floor.
Ate it.
Hrashtari smacked the back of his head.
"Do not eat food from the floor."
"Goro says exposure strengthens resistance."
Goro looked up.
"I did not say that."
"You probably would."
"No."
Xheavend sat.
She looked down at herself again.
Familiar.
Relief came.
Then—
something else.
Loss?
No.
Not exactly.
She had missed this body.
Her body.
But—
the other one had become hers too.
Hadn't it?
Twenty days.
Training.
Eating.
Laughing.
Fighting.
Sleeping badly.
Living.
Still Xheavend.
She didn't hate it.
That confused her.
End stirred.
Quiet.
Gentler than usual.
You don't have to choose today.
Xheavend looked at her hands.
No.
She didn't.
That was enough.
Yzer appeared that evening.
Xheavend was in the library.
Writing.
A dead child's life.
Three hundred and nineteen years old.
Young for its species.
Loved sweet roots.
Afraid of thunder.
Had two sisters.
Wanted to become a glassworker.
Died during a building collapse.
Xheavend wrote carefully.
Yzer appeared beside the desk.
"You've been quiet."
She didn't look up.
"Have I?"
"Yes."
Scratch.
Ink.
Another line.
Yzer walked around her.
Xheavend continued writing.
"Something changed."
Her pen stopped.
Only briefly.
Then continued.
Yzer noticed.
Of course.
"What?"
She wrote the child's happiest memory.
A festival.
Lanterns.
Music.
One sister dancing badly.
Yzer moved closer.
His eyes traveled over the bandages visible beneath her sleeves.
Her gloves.
Her face.
The journals.
Everything.
"What are you keeping from me?"
End said nothing.
Good.
Xheavend finished the sentence.
Placed the pen down.
Then looked at him.
Two years.
Two years of him inside her life.
Her blood.
Her pain.
Her thoughts.
Her sleep.
Her fear.
Two years of him acting as though there could be nothing he did not possess.
Nothing he did not know.
Wrong.
Xheavend smiled.
Small.
Real.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Yzer's smile disappeared.
Completely.
Xheavend's grew.
Then—
he vanished.
She stared at the empty chair.
Her heart hammered.
Her hands shook.
She didn't care.
That had been hers.
One secret.
One thing.
One locked door.
And Yzer—
couldn't open it.
Three nights later—
Goro found her awake.
Again.
The library had become a disaster.
Journals covered the floor.
Pages overlapped beneath Xheavend's bare feet.
Ink stained three fingers.
A blade rested beside her chair.
Bandages lay in a pile near the desk.
Fresh ones waited unopened.
Xheavend sat hunched over another journal.
Writing.
Name.
Birthplace.
Mother.
Father.
Favorite food.
Greatest fear.
Love.
Children.
Beginning.
End.
Next.
Name.
Birthplace.
Mother.
Father.
Favorite food.
Greatest fear.
Love.
Children.
Beginning.
No End.
Next.
Her hand shook.
She stopped it.
Continued.
Across from her—
Yzer sat on a stack of books.
Only she could see him.
His chin rested against one hand.
Silent.
Watching.
Goro entered.
Xheavend didn't look up.
"Sleep."
"I'm not tired."
Yzer smiled.
Goro said nothing.
Xheavend wrote another line.
"I said I'm not tired."
"Xheavend."
Her pen stopped.
Yzer's expression changed.
Barely.
He didn't know that name.
Not yet.
Goro did.
Q did.
Hrashtari.
Lster.
Wten.
Fyr.
Her family.
Her real family.
People who knew her.
Yzer did not.
That mattered.
Xheavend continued writing.
"I'm fine."
"No."
One word.
Nothing dramatic.
No anger.
No lecture.
Xheavend finally looked at him.
Goro stood near the doorway.
His eyes moved over her.
The dark circles beneath her eyes.
The blood soaking slowly through one bandage at her wrist.
The tremor in her hand.
The journals.
The blade.
The pages filled with dead lives because she was terrified the universe would forget them.
Xheavend swallowed.
"I'm working."
"I know."
"Then leave me alone."
"No."
Her jaw tightened.
Yzer watched with quiet amusement.
Goro stepped closer.
"How long?"
Xheavend looked away.
"How long since what?"
"Meaningful sleep."
"I sleep."
"How long?"
She didn't answer.
"Xheavend."
"I don't know."
That—
finally—
made Goro's expression change.
Not much.
Enough.
Concern.
Real concern.
Xheavend hated it.
She looked down at the page.
"I said I'm fine."
Goro's gaze fell to her hand.
The shaking had returned.
Then the bloody bandage.
Then the weapon beside her.
Then—
her.
"No."
Xheavend's throat tightened.
Goro spoke quietly.
"You're becoming dangerous."
She looked at him.
Yzer smiled behind him.
Xheavend's fingers closed around the pen.
"To him?"
Goro's expression didn't change.
"No."
A pause.
"To yourself."