I woke to the sound of thumping footsteps in the hallway. Heavy steps, ones already weary with the events of a day that hadn't started yet, roused me. They passed without incident and traveled down the nearby stairs, which left my consciousness in a twilight state. It was probably one of my inconsiderate roommates. My usual procedure for waking in this manner was to press my face into my pillow, take a deep breath, and relax once more. I attempted to do the same before I realized something was wrong; I couldn't set my entire face into the pillow, and it didn't smell familiar. Opening my eyes granted me the vision of something sloping forward into my line of sight, attached to my face. A panicked swat slapped upon the extended bridge of my nose. It was more like a snout now. I couldn't help but choke out a cry of surprise; memories of the past day didn't immediately reach me. With no thought of those I may have just awoken, the entirety of the previous day faded into my mind's periphery like touch-starved ghosts. I was dismayed by the state of myself as well realizing that the lamp had burned all night. Rising from bed and turning it off provided no ease to my panic. The darkness did nothing to hide me from myself. Was I dreaming after all?
Emotion found my eyes first, and I discovered that I could still cry. Weakened arms reached into the darkness as if to grasp comfort, but yielded only air. I felt desperate and afraid, just like before. A stifled gasp of pain was all I could manage as I wept. I felt my tail brush against my thigh, and I quickly pulled it to my chest. The pillow joined it moments later. I needed a distraction; I was starting to slip away from myself, and bad things tended to happen when I allowed myself to fall. Going to pieces and losing the job I had miraculously secured only yesterday would not prevent further fear. Clawed fingers dug into the sleeves of my shirt and poked my bruised upper arms. This instinctual action provoked the soreness stored in me, and it was enough to break me out of my looping thoughts. I wiped my eyes and hurried to the window to watch once more. The light of dawn was beginning to chase the celestial lights away, and my hope faded with them. I now knew this wasn't a dream. That illusion had been shattered like a meteor passing through a frozen lake. Bubbling steam filled my thoughts as I lapsed into numbness, but I had to gather myself for breakfast.
A brilliant red sunrise graced my breakfast of baked fruit, nuts and bread. I mourned the loss of my usual breakfast food: a microwaved vegan Hot Pocket. Medieval fairyland be damned, I wouldn't let this place force me to divert my principles. Now that I was paying more attention to my face, I found that eating had become more difficult. Food would fall from the sides of my mouth if I wasn’t careful. Drinking required additional care, as well. My slight beak made sealing my miniscule lips over cups a losing battle. It was like wrestling food, and the food was winning. I preferred to settle with my frustrations rather than consider the abject terror inspired by the situation in which I’d found myself. What was healthcare like here? How many months did I have before I died from smallpox? Would I have to find a husband in order to assure my safety and station? I shuddered at the thought; I wasn't into men. The possibility of being victimized over homophobia or transphobia hung darkly over my head. Followed by this storm cloud, I finished my breakfast and checked out with reception before heading off to my new job.
Keff was nearly done preparing when I arrived. "Madison!" He sounded pleasantly surprised to see me. I wasn't going to run off with only two gold coins in my pocket when I could earn far more security here in town. This was an immediate consideration now.
"Morning, Keff," I replied in kind. A yelp rose from me as my world suddenly went dark; the smith had thrown a thick set of fabric that landed atop my head. "Thanks," I laughed, and set about donning the fire-resistant apron. It would be nice to keep my new clothes as clean as I possibly could. The man's heavy boot came down upon a bellows, the resulting rush of air signaling the start of another day. My first assignment was a set of axes meant for woodcutting. Far more insulated than I was yesterday, I quickly realized that my body no longer produced sweat. Cooling myself would be an entirely different affair. This wasn't the worst realization in the world; I could work for a while without stinking or spending too much money on baths. I had no plans to let my hygiene fall to the wayside with such little prospect of health in this new world; it was simply a different situation with new pros and cons to consider. An hour into the day’s work, an arrangement of what appeared to be guards or military personnel approached the shop. Keff welcomed them in that gruff manner of his and disappeared into the shop.
"Madison!" Keff emerged from the store carrying two pieces of armor. Chest plates, by the look of them, clattered atop the front counter of the store. I followed him back into the store to see what he wanted. Keff did not hesitate to explain through exasperated gestures that I was to help him carry sets of armor out for the intimidating customers. I helped, of course, as I wasn't willing to get on the bad side of either party. It was hard to tell if I was more afraid of invoking the military's ire, or of Keff's. In light of this, I offered the customers a genuine, if reserved smile. They respectfully nodded their heads in return. One of them even bowed slightly. I hadn't seen many people bowing in Southeast Pennsylvania, so I wasn't sure how to react. I hastily offered what could barely pass as a curtsy before I was hurried back into the store to retrieve more armor. Keff started chuckling under his breath after the customers left, which drew my attention. His laughing grew more vigorous as he mimicked a nervous little curtsy and heaved further laughter. I rolled my eyes and struck the waiting axe head a little harder than was necessary, though I couldn't help but smile when I thought Keff wasn't looking.
I focused the bulk of my efforts on making my metalwork less... lumpy. It was frankly ugly, but Keff enjoyed having another set of hands at the ready. The ringing metal was starting to grate on me, however, and I was provided small pieces of fabric to stuff into my ears. That was when I noticed I no longer had external ears. I left a large amount of the fabric sticking out so I wouldn't have to excavate them at the end of the day. The heads of the axes trended in a smoother direction over the course of the day, becoming wavy and rippled instead. I must have been overcorrecting my technique. This was duly noted in anticipation of working tomorrow. My work didn't seem to bother Keff, but I caught him glancing over at me several times today. Hopefully he wasn't looking at me in that way; thankfully he was always looking at my face. I would look at it too, if I could. It was probably as strange to him as it was to me. He probably wondered where I came from, why I couldn't speak the language of the area, why a woman could do some very basic blacksmithing. The answer to all three questions was simply luck or the lack of it.
I met his gaze in turn. A linen bandana covered curly, darker brown hair that puffed outward and mingled with his beard. Keff's facial hair was, for lack of a better word, luxurious, and tied neatly at the bottom with a decorative red string. His clothes were nothing of note, being a simple white work shirt and black pants with matching boots. They weren't especially fabulous, but they appeared to be well-made. A gnarled nose peeked over his mustache, his weathered pores clogged with soot. He had old, tired, brown eyes. Mine looked similar... unless they had changed with the rest of me. What impressed me most about Keff's visage were the bridges of muscle that comprised his arms; the guy was shredded. My eyebrows, or possibly my brow ridge, lifted in surprise as Keff lifted his arms to slide an awning over the counter and beyond. I looked away from him before he could catch me staring, for that would have led to an awkward conversation. He began to talk to me not long after this. I had no idea what he was saying, but I listened, attempting to discern repeated words. I noticed a certain cadence in his words that suggested something more akin to what I had heard of Spanish. I laughed when it sounded like I should laugh, and agreed when it sounded like I should agree. One of those evaluations was off, which led to a few grumbled words followed by a dismissive gesture. "I'm sorry...?" My confused tone seemed to clarify things for him. I worried he may begin to think I'm faking my inability to understand him.
It started to rain minutes later. The mix of petrichor and a sooty, burning forge was an interesting experience to my nose, cold and wet mingling unabashedly with hot and dry. Crackles of burning wood complimented the rain very well, though, and I deigned to take a break toward the end of the afternoon. Keff sat with me and used gestures to ask where I had apprehended the notion of smithing. All I could do was shake my head and shrug. He seemed impressed with my answer. Immediately after this, he began a string of what I assumed were insults directed toward the man I had replaced the day before. He concluded his complaints with a shake of his head and reached for my arm. Not expecting this, I reflexively pulled away and tightened against myself. It was now Keff's turn to be surprised, and he sat back, raising his hands as if to calm me. He said something in a patient tone and pointed to my bicep, then his. It took me the span of a few breaths to internalize that he likely didn't mean harm, and perhaps wanted to test my strength. I cautiously let him touch my arm. A gentle squeeze of my bicep proved me right, and Keff scoffed at what I imagine was a lack of muscle. He pointed at the last axe head a few minutes later, and it was time to get back to work. A waterskin landed upon the counter as I stood up.
Keff took inventory of my work after we packed up for the night. After inspecting the axe heads, he pointed at my bicep and shook his head, then demonstrated a heavy blow with his hammer. I took a look at the result on the axe head, and the area he had pounded was far smoother than mine; I wasn't hitting the metal hard enough. He shrugged, pointed to his bicep, and I let him know I had gotten the message with a nod. A gold coin and two silver coins were fished out of his coin purse and offered to me, and he once more pointed at the ground before disappearing back into the store. The door latched decisively on the other side. This told me that this wage was more likely to be the standard for a day's work, and that the previous day's second piece of gold had been an act of charity. I was grateful and eager to show it. Before I had made the decision to do so, I found myself returning to the inn to rent another room for the night. I was so lost in my thoughts as rain tumbled over me that I had forgotten to retrieve my pajamas that I had stored at the smithy. A hurried trip back across the square led me to encounter what looked to be an elderly human man. He held his hands out, obviously a beggar. They were rough with age and past work, and one look at him showed discolored splotches showing through tears at the shoulders of his coat.
Our eyes met, and I tried not to think too hard about myself. I could have been in this position so easily if not for Keff. Unsure of how much it was worth, and knowing that I needed a gold coin for a room and a meal tonight, I gave him three silver coins. The man's hands closed very quickly over my own and vigorously shook my hand as he uttered hurried words of gratitude. He summarily turned and hustled toward some further part of town. I stood in the rain to watch him leave. Clearly, three silver coins were worth quite a lot to the stranger. A complex series of emotions flooded through me as I wondered what had happened to put the man in his current position, why he was still there, and what he would do with the money. No matter the answers, I would have given it to him regardless. With the interaction concluded, I resumed my walk to the inn. I arrived in my previous room only minutes later with a bowl of food and a cup of water. The sustenance slowly disappeared while I considered the potential of my future within this experience. As much of a loner as I was, I longed for someone to talk to, but the thought quickly evaporated in expectation of being called crazy, or simply being disbelieved. This could be a secret I’d carry in silence for months... even years.
So overwhelming was my contemplation that I hadn't realized I was eating in the dark. Even so, I could see well enough, though colors were dulled. I traded a faint yellowish-gray for soft amber by lighting the oil lamp along the wall. All in all, despite everything, I felt that I was lucky to be in this position. I’d fallen face first into a job without so much as speaking the same language as my new boss. I had coins in my pocket, new clothes... nothing bad had happened to me yet. While I had no idea how long or how seasonal Keff's work was, it was work for now, and some didn't even have that. Capitalism had been traded for what I expected to be some form of feudalism; once I learned the local language, I planned on learning as much as I could about societal matters. That knowledge would help me avoid being taken advantage of by bad actors big or small, as well as give me a wide scope of the world through a less amount of work. I felt less likely to backslide with goals in mind. My arms were given an unsuccessful massage after I finished my food. It wasn't easy to work muscles through scales. Using the palm of my hand to stretch over a wide area and rubbing with less pressure seemed to help more than focusing as much pressure into a single fingertip.
I had forgotten to look in the mirror again! This revelation annoyed me, it seemed like something so important, so hard to forget, yet I had managed to do so two days in a row. Remembering my lessons from therapy, I told myself that shit happened sometimes, and that my face wasn't going anywhere. My face could be examined tomorrow. A part of me called the other part out for moving goal posts, but I was done with this exercise in either case. My hands rose to idly touch over my unfamiliar face while I sought the comfort of stars. My eyes seemed to be set wider than before, still facing forward, and I had what felt like a ferocious brow ridge above them. I lacked any discernible spines, and my meager little beak was only present at the very end of my face. My jaw felt gently curved, yet oddly pronounced. The biggest surprise came from the fact that I had horns. I had horns, like a dragon and everything! My mouth fell open as I grabbed a firm hold of my horns and tested them with pushes and pulls. They were very sturdy horns, curving down and then back up into points. Something about this investigation of mine felt very exciting, and entirely eclipsed the lingering fear that I felt over my body becoming alien. Ending the night on a high note felt like a good idea, but it took me some time to fall asleep after extinguishing the oil lamp. My mind was terribly, terribly busy with doubts and hopes battling for dominion over my emotional state.