This Is Stella's Reality

June 18, 2015

"At the core, magic is taking a thought and making it real. Taking a lie and making it the truth. Telling a story to the universe so utterly, cosmically perfect that for a single, shining moment, the world believes a man can fly."

Loki's voice waltzed around the training room, gliding through my ears with graceful ease.

I stared at him for a while, swinging my sword, Starlight, around my frame.

He was watching me carefully. His eyes flitted over me, examining my almost dance with the blade.

"Show me what you can do with that," he ordered.

My hand tossed the sword into the air, reaching for the blade and grabbing it with my hand just as it transfigured into my spear. I threw it, stabbing it into a target on the far side of the wall.

It stuck with a loud twang before I recalled it to my hand. Watching the way it ghosted to dust from the wall and rebuilt itself in my hand.

I lifted my eyes to Loki. His expression was unreadable as he tossed me a random object, a target frisbee from a nearby bench.

"Transfigure this into something," he said.

I stared down at the frisbee. Unsure where to even begin. My fingers ran over the hard plastic.

Silence bore down on my thoughts, hammering against my ear drums in ear-splitting deafness.

My head began to spin, and suddenly, with a blink of my eyes, the frisbee was a raven flying from my hands.

Dumbly, I stared up as it glided amongst the rafters, searching for an exit. My mind was uncomprehending, baffled by its own abilities.

Loki was suddenly standing beside me and watching the bird as well. He hummed, "Well done. Can you turn yourself into something?"

The question alarmed me. I looked up at him, waiting for any hint that he was joking, but his face remained still.

I looked inwardly, examining my very own being. The red blood flowing through my veins, my beating heart, the slight ache in my left shoulder, the growing tension behind my eyes.

The feeling that followed was indescribable.

My world was suddenly much bigger through my eyes. Loki was truly towering over me, looking down at me as if I was a bug beneath his boots.

He crouched beside me, a clear smirk on his face. "A cat, really, goddess?" His hand firmly grasped the back of my furry black neck, lifting me to his eyes.

My cat body went slack, and I stared at him. I'm a cat now. I'm a fucking cat now.

Bucky stepped into the training room. His eyes searched for me, glaring at Loki before his features transformed into confusion. "When did you get a cat?"

Loki laughed, loud and startling in my ears. He walked towards Bucky and shoved my small body into his arms. "It's your wife, idiot."

I screamed as loud as I could, but all that left my throat was a pathetic meow.

Bucky was staring at me, cuppy my small head in his hands. "Stel?" He breathed. The panic was clear in his voice which made my heart squeeze.

Another meow left my cat-throat, thin and pathetic. How the hell was I supposed to get back to my normal self?

My head spun a bit, overwhelmed with my situation. Take a lie and make it the truth. But how do I reverse that? My lie was too good.

I wiggled in Bucky's arms; he was still deep in shock. My feet hit the floor, and I concentrated on willing myself back to normal. Just as I do in Loki's library, putting my will above that of the universe.