Changeling

Chapter 5

The day had rapidly arrived that the fairies had taught her all they could, given her current state of spiritual weakness. It had taken three months of constant lecture, 5 entire journals worth of notes, and a lot of delusional confidence that Sorrel had adopted in wake of this new-found passion. 

She'd followed every instruction down to the letter for her first day, and stared at herself in the mirror, changed. She slipped some brown contacts into her eye and blinked painfully, never one to best the skill. "Your eyes are too green now; you'll be spotted immediately." Ohdie had said. Her eyes still looked hazel at best to her, but Sorrel supposed any hint of color at all would be a dead giveaway. She looked at her reflection and realized her eyes really weren't brown. This was brown. Her eyes when darkened so made her resemble an eerie doll.

Never before had Sorrel been much of the religious type, but some of her old beliefs must have laid dormant in her psyche as most of her spells involved invoking the holy spirit. It brought a humored smile to her face as she recalled all of the Sundays spent thwarting her dad who insisted on such things with nauseating persistence. Mom and dad, she thought for a brief moment, seeing their features in her own. She wished for one more Sunday, caked in the realm of sleep and forced into her little lavender dress as was proper. The crayons snatched from her hands as she made to draw a butterfly on the carpeted pew.

If dad could see her now... Would he be ashamed or proud? She wondered, not for the first time.

"Proud" a voice spoke in the corner of her mind. She hoped it was this mysterious spirit she'd heard governed her fate, and not her ego which sought to comfort her guilty soul. Sorrel had braided her long black hair into a French braid, biting back tears. She wound the plait around itself, sticking a pin into it which converted it into an updo. "The working fae aren't permitted to wear their hair down." Plarabel had mentioned in one of their lectures. "Neither are you ever to be permitted to wear trousers as a woman... No matter your standing."

"Who knew the fae were so old-fashioned," Sorrel muttered, wiping away her tears and stopping, laughed at the irony.

"Are you ready mistress?" Plarabel called from downstairs.

"Almost!" Sorrel replied, smoothing down her gown. A corset over a white chemise, stockings, brown heeled shoes with little buckles, and a brown gown over top that one had to sew the sleeves onto with lacing with each wear. The sleeves themselves were split and allowed the chemise beneath to bulge through in three different sections. At the shoulder, elbow, and wrist, allowing better mobility.

"Will it be cold there?" Sorrel inquired, opening the door, and securing a white apron around her middle as she trotted down the stairs.

"Yes, it is winter there, though the most beautiful winter you will ever encounter," Plarabel remarked, glancing at the clock, and floated to the coin dish underneath the hall mirror.

"I see why people stayed for centuries," Sorrel muttered, already feeling warm in the stifling fabric.

"I know there were a few... issues with the shapeshifting during our lectures..." Plarabel began hesitantly, "But let's give it one more try... If you can't do it, we'll help."  

Insofar, they'd had to reverse a few anatomical... anomalies that Sorrel had concocted on herself in efforts to accomplish fae attributes. The closest Sorrel had gotten insofar were some oversized Keebler elf ears which had caused Flourine to laugh so hard she'd ripped a petal. It was a basic spell, one that most likely every changeling in the natural world had accomplished for their first outing, but Sorrel was a bit of a late bloomer as it seemed. She was no stranger to this in other aspects of her life.

"Think... Lord of the Rings... Arwen... Galadriel... Not Keebler... Not Zelda..." Sorrel murmured, turning to her hall mirror. "My hall mirror" Sorrel gushed, still unable to process the reality. Cashing in her retirement had been put into convincing the cottage owner to let her buy the place, and she smiled at how happy her little decorations sparkled at all times in her field of vision.