Gift of the Unicorn

“You’re doing worse.”

Sleeping on the floor of the shrine had done Randel no good. Now she was sore in all new places. She was also back to wearing pants, much to her dismay. Randel’s arms kept shaking enough that she couldn’t keep her bow steady at all today.

“What’s going on?” Rohesia demanded, grabbing Randel by the shoulders and forcibly adjusting her position.

“I’m just… not enjoying myself,” Randel muttered.

“I don’t care if you’re enjoying it,” Rohesia sneered, “This is your job. Everyone expects you to be in top shape, Randel. You need to be the best if you’re going to lead your squad when you turn back. Now take another shot.”

Randel drew another arrow slowly and nocked it. Her vision was blurry and both her arms were quivering. When she released the string, her arrow flew wide and missed the target entirely.

Rohesia sighed.

“What happened to you last night?” she asked.

“My father came to visit. He didn’t like me wearing a dress.”

Randel thought she saw Ro’s expression soften for just a moment.

“Well,” Rohesia continued, “You were doing better before today. Not well enough, unfortunately. You should be making faster progress than this. Especially from someone with your skill. I expected more.”

“I’m sorry,” Randel replied, her voice cracking as she teared up, “I thought I was strong enough.”

“Don’t cry,” Rohesia ordered, “No tears on the archery range. That’s always been the rule.”

“Right… it was never really an issue before now. I forgot.”

“Well, some people don’t take to the bow as well as you did. I’ve seen my fair share of tears.” Rohesia folded her arms. “I know that you’re stronger than this, Randel. You need to get your head on straight. Whatever distraction you have going on needs to be dealt with so things can go back to normal.”

Randel nodded, not really listening.

“Fix your posture and do it again.”

Another arrow flew through the air, this one landing short and hitting the ground in front of the target.

“Aim, boy!” Rohesia barked.

Randel groaned and grabbed a clump of hair with her free hand.

“Faster, Randel! Stop thinking so hard about it and just do it!”

“Stop!” Randel cried, tearing up, “Please!”

“Raise your bow and fire!”

“I can’t!”

“Then what are you doing here?!”

Randel sobbed and dropped her bow, then dropped to her knees. She buried her head in her hands and started to cry. There was the crunch of boots on grass as Rohesia walked over.

“I don’t believe this,” she heard Rohesia mutter, before barking, “Get up!”

Randel shook her head.

“I can’t,” she said, “It’s too much. You’re pushing me too hard.”

“Randel, I have to push you hard. Clearly you aren’t pushing yourself. I feel like I’m losing my best hunter.”

Randel looked up at Rohesia, seeing pity in her eyes. That hurt more than her sore muscles. Rohesia had always respected Randel. How had she fallen so low?

Rohesia felt like she was losing Randel. Randel couldn’t tell her the truth. If Rohesia knew that Randel wanted to stay this way, there was no telling what she’d do. She might even go straight to Hann and warn him.

“You’re right,” Randel said instead, “I need to be the best I’ve ever been when I get back to normal. There’s no other option.”

“Well, then I expect you to feel better tomorrow. I’ll take your bow. You go… do whatever it is you do. Just promise me that you’ll solve whatever’s going on with you so we can get back to the way things are supposed to be.”

Randel nodded and picked up her bow to hand it over. Rohesia held out a hand for Randel to take. She helped Randel to her feet, then brushed her off.

“Actually,” Rohesia said, “Maybe you should take tomorrow off. I’m sure you’re sore enough as it is.”

“Thank you,” Randel replied weakly.

She returned to town, walking slowly with her arms folded. Randel couldn’t tell anyone that she wanted to stay like this. It was a dream that wouldn’t be able to come true, so there was no point in wallowing in it. She needed to be strong for the people that were counting on her. By the time Randel got to Hamon’s house, she had mostly composed herself.

“You’re early,” he told her, clearly surprised.

“I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. It gives us more time to work on your dress.”

Randel’s heart sank. Her special dress. The one she wouldn’t be able to ever wear. The best thing to do would be to tell Hamon to forget about it, but a selfish part of Randel knew that she’d never be able to do that.

“I can’t wait to see it,” she replied, smiling softly.

They alternated between working together on Hamon’s normal projects and Randel’s dress. For every new article they repaired or completed, they’d take a few minutes to finish the next part of the dress. It was more stylish than the one Randel had been wearing the day before, with long sleeves evocative of bird wings and a skirt that resembled a bird’s tail. The whole thing was the beautiful dark blue that Randel had selected.

“It’s gorgeous,” Randel said, clasping her hands together in excitement.

“It’s going to take another day or two to finish,” Hamon admitted, “But it’s really coming along.”

A knock on the door interrupted their musing.

“That must be Molle,” Hamon said, striding over and opening the door, “Her order is in the third trunk there. Grab it for me.”

Instead, a sturdy man with messy black hair was standing in the doorway.

“Morris!” Randel cried, running up, “What are you doing here?”

Morris stuck his head into the shop and looked around, answering, “I heard that you were stuck helping the tailor, and wanted to see if you wanted to hang out instead since I have the day off.”

“I would,” Randel said, “But we’re in the middle of working right now.”

“It’s fine, Randel,” Hamon said, “I can handle the rest for today. You and your friend enjoy yourselves.”

“Are you sure?”

Hamon nodded, insisting, “Enjoy your youth while you have it.”

“Thank you, Hamon.” Turning to Morris, she asked, “Where do you want to go?”

They left the workshop together, Morris answering, “I thought we’d just hang out at the tavern. If that’s okay with you.”

Randel nodded, following Morris down the road. She was still giddy from seeing how well her dress was coming along. There was nothing she wanted to do more than gush about it to Morris. But she bit her tongue. He probably wouldn’t understand why it was so exciting for her, and Randel didn’t want to risk it getting back to her father.

When they got to the tavern, Randel took a spot at the bar and Morris followed suit.

“Meggy,” Randel said, getting the attention of the green-eyed bartender, “Can I get a drink? And one for my friend here.”

“Of course, honey,” Meggy replied.

“I was thinking of getting a room here,” Randel admitted to Morris, “So that I don’t have to live with Rohesia anymore.”

“Really? You don’t want the free room?”

“She’s just a lot to deal with all the time, that’s all,” Randel said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“I guess she would be,” Morris agreed, “Has the witch found the unicorn yet?”

“Not yet,” Randel replied, her stomach turning at the thought, “I’m sure she will, though.”

“Well, I can’t wait for things to get back to normal,” Morris said, raising his mug in a toast. Then he asked, “Are you still pretending to act like a woman to make people happy?”

Randel nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“You should stop,” Morris continued, “If anybody has a problem with you acting like a man, they can take it up with me. You shouldn’t have to pretend to be something you’re not just to make other people comfortable.”

“I agree with you,” Randel said with a sigh.

“You’d better tell the witch to hurry up. I want my best friend back.”

“I’m still here,” Randel replied, bristling.

“But you know what I mean,” Morris told her, scowling.

She didn’t like the way he was behaving. Randel gazed at Morris for a bit, just taking in his face. Morris furled his brow in concern, but Randel just sighed.

There was no way she’d ever be able to tell him the truth. Not about her wanting to stay a woman, and not about her being in love with him. It wasn’t just a crush anymore. She knew that just by looking at him.

“I feel like I can’t do a lot of things that I want to,” she thought.

Morris interrupted her thinking, “Rohesia barely talks about you, you know. While we’re hunting, she pretends that you don’t exist. I miss you, Randel. You’re like a brother to me. The snake and the hawk, remember?”

Randel didn’t feel like a hawk. She felt like a caged bird. And they were about to lock her away forever by returning her to her old, male body.

“Are you okay?” Morris asked.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Randel replied, forcing herself to smile.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind. It’s not important,” Randel insisted, raising her tankard, “We’re here to have fun, aren’t we?”

Morris grinned like an idiot and raised his tankard in response. Randel kept a smile plastered on her face, but inside she felt tired. Truth be told, she’d rather be spending time with Stace.

Randel had a bit of a buzz when she said goodbye to Morris and left the tavern. She really should have just gone back to Rohesia’s house and finish the reading that Aldith had assigned to her. But she needed some space to clear her head and think.

So she found herself back at the town shrine, kneeling in front of the altar. Randel had been coming here a lot lately for the solitude. There was almost never anybody around, and when she did run into other people they tended to stay quite and left her alone. Here, at least, Randel felt welcome and at home.

A small voice came from behind her, “H-hi there.”

Randel stretched to look behind her, spotting a young sunburned girl with a ribbon in her hair. It was the same child from a number of days ago who had said that she envied Randel. Now Randel didn’t want to be alone; her curiosity was piqued.

“Hello,” she replied, “Did you want to talk to me?”

The girl smiled and nodded, then walked gingerly up to Randel and folded her hands.

Randel said, “My name is Randel. What’s yours?”

“My name is Diot,” the girl replied, “Can I sit down next to you?”

Randel nodded, patting the ground beside her. Diot sat down next to Randel and crossed her legs. Randel couldn’t help but smile a little. Something about children made them so precious to her. They were like little fauns taking their first steps into the world.

Diot didn’t say anything. Randel didn’t either. She watched as Diot started to shuffle uncomfortably. Diot would briefly glance over at Randel once or twice, but didn’t say anything. Randel still suspected that she knew what this was about.

“Did you know that I met a unicorn?” she asked.

Diot’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head.

“I did. Last week I was hunting and got separated from my friends. I found an injured unicorn and used my medical kit to patch it up. But I also got some of its blood on me. That night, I magically transformed into a woman. That’s how I got to be this way.”

“That’s so cool!” Diot squeaked.

Randel smiled and nodded.

“I felt really lucky to get to see it,” she admitted, “Almost nobody ever gets to. I didn’t expect it to transform me, though.”

Diot nodded, smiling enough to show off dimples.

“I… um,” she began, “It’s… I mean…”

Randel was quiet, allowing Diot to find the words that she was looking for.

“You’re just so lucky, you know?” Diot asked.

“Why is that?”

“Well, because most people are just stuck as they are,” she continued, “Nobody else has ever gotten to transform into a girl.” She lowered her voice and finished, “…or a boy.”

“Do you like that idea?” Randel asked, “Would you want to transform into a boy if you could?”

Diot nodded, not looking at Randel.

“Have you told anyone?”

Diot shook her head.

“Is there anyone you can tell?”

“I dunno.”

“Your parents?” Randel asked.

“I… I’m afraid I’d get in trouble if I told them.”

“Why? Is there a reason you think that?”

Diot shrugged.

Randel just nodded in reply. She wasn’t really sure what to do in this situation. And Diot clearly didn’t know what to do either. They were both stuck.

“Well, if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” Randel promised.

“Thank you,” Diot replied quietly, blushing, “Um… it’s late. I should go back home. My parents will worry.”

“Goodbye, Diot,” Randel said, “Come find me if you need help.”

“I will,” Diot promised.

After bidding farewell to Diot, Randel started walking toward the edge of town. She wasn’t headed to Rohesia’s house, though. It was late in the day, but Randel was headed for the eastern gate.

Randel’s hands were sweaty as she walked up to the little stone house. What was she going to say? Could she even trust Aldith and Stace? But there was no one else she even thought she could tell without it backfiring on her.

As soon as she knocked on the door, Randel regretted her decision.

“Randel?” Stace asked when she opened the door, “Is something wrong? Why are you here?”

“Can I come inside?” Randel asked in the smallest voice she could muster.

The room was cramped, but they made enough space for Randel to sit down on one of the beds. It was getting dark, so the entire room was illuminated by the little cast iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Aldith was scribbling into a book, only occasionally glancing at Randel. Stace knelt down in front of Randel directly, looking concerned.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I want to tell you,” Randel said, curling up and wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“Give her some of the stew,” Aldith told Stace.

Stace nodded and pulled a bowl off of a shelf. She filled it with the stew from the cauldron on the fire and brought it over to Randel, who accepted it without a word. Randel hadn’t actually realized how hungry she was until just now.

She ate slowly for a few minutes. How was Randel supposed to explain herself? How did she make someone understand that she was happier as the person that she couldn’t be?

Stace sat down on the bed beside Randel and said, “Whatever is going on, you can tell us. You’re safe here, Randel.”

Randel nodded, then blinked the tears out of her eyes.

“I… I want to trust you.”

Stace placed a warm hand on Randel’s arm. Randel’s hands were shaking, and she was going to spill the stew everywhere. She sat it down in her lap and took a deep, shaky breath.

Randel’s voice cracked as she admitted, “I want to stay this way, Stace. I want to stay a woman. And I know I don’t deserve it. I’m not a real woman and I’m never going to be. But I don’t want to go back to being a man. I… I’m so much happier this way.”

Stace smiled softly.

“Randel, it’s okay,” she cooed.

“No, it’s not!” Randel cried, beginning to sob, “I can’t stay like this. I have to go back to being a man. That’s what everyone wants. I don’t have a choice!”

Aldith had stood up and walked over to where Randel was sitting, then knelt down.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want, girl,” she said, “To be entirely honest, we both suspected that you would be happier as a woman than as a man.”

Randel sniffed.

“You… you couldn’t have known,” she protested.

“We didn’t know for sure,” Stace agreed, “But ever since you asked me to show you how to act like a woman, we thought that you seemed to be enjoying it more than you wanted to admit.”

Aldith finished, “We weren’t sure that you would come to the same conclusion yourself. But we were hoping that you’d figure it out before we found a way to turn you back. This isn’t an opportunity that we could recreate.”

“So everyone knew except for me?” Randel asked.

“I don’t think everyone knows,” Stace said, “But it was obvious to us that there was more going on than you were willing to admit.”

They fell quiet for a moment. Randel stirred her stew a little, but didn’t take another bite. Aldith stood up and walked back to where she’d sat her book down.

“What now?” Randel asked.

“We don’t have to keep searching for a way to transform you back if you don’t want to,” Aldith said, “As long as it’s your choice in the matter.”

“Are you going to tell my father?” Randel asked.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Aldith assured her, “We do have to tell him something eventually, but it doesn’t have to be the truth.”

“He’d make me do it. I don’t want him to know.”

Aldith nodded.

Stace added, “We’ll help you however we can, Randel.”

“Thank you.”

After a moment, Stace asked, “Do you have a name you’d prefer to be called?”

Randel thought about it while she ate her cold stew. It was something she’d never really considered before. This was the first time she really considered the possibility of staying as a woman. But she couldn’t really keep her old, male name.

“I…”

“Yes?”

Randel felt heat rising in her cheeks.

“It’s a little embarrassing.”

“That’s okay,” Stace insisted, “Take your time.”

“Well, I think if I’m going to have a name, I’d want it to be Iseut. After my late mother.”

Stace nodded.

“Alright, Iseut,” she said, “Welcome to womanhood.”