The Death Song of Evanore Frock

Chapter 4- Change

I didn't know how long I lay there. I found it impossible to sleep, perhaps another effect of the spell. It was just more pain. There was a fuss as the woman with feather wings found me. But I heard nothing, felt nothing, as I lay unmoving.

I only said "Tell me when my coven comes. Until then I sleep."

As I slept they put a blanket on me. Lenoarde did not move from my side. A part of me was grateful. But then I remembered; he was being Evanores friend. Staying by her side. He didn't see it. His friend had died. Leaving me. A husk of who he wanted.

I think days passed.

I probably could have told the exact time but I didn't care.

Eventually, Maxwell did arrive.

"She doesn't move. She doesn't eat. I wouldn't be able to tell you if she was alive if I didn't know she was already dead." Aine fretted "She only told us that one sentence then she... closed up. Arch Mage Maxwell we don't know what else we can do."
"Give me room please," Maxwell answered quietly. A shuffling of feet, and I felt Maxwells presence as he sat down next to me. "They care about you. Deeply. Do you realize how hard it is to get in contact with me? Orion did. Twice. Because he cares and worries about you."

I snorted, "They don't care about me. Leonarde cares about Evanore. He's looking for someone that doesn't exist anymore."

"Why do you say that?"

Sighing, I pushed myself up, forcing myself to look in my reflection. "Something happened to me during the spell. I don't mean my pastel witch colors changed or that my heart stopped. I mean... I look into my reflection and the person I see... in my heart I know its a stranger that looks back. I can't look at myself without being reminded... the person I truly am, the woman I used to be will never stare back at me. This starved dead body is all they left me with."

And I had heard the coven sisters talking in whispers. My body could never change. I was trapped in it.

Magic could do many miracles. Changing the body not included.

Simple things like eye color and hair length. Sure, that was easy enough. But the structure of a person's body however, that was impossible.

I was trapped in this new body.

And magic had done that to me.

The one thing that I had spent my entire life studying, devoting my life to understand and give my life to do; and it was used against me. And left me to rot in a mess I could never fix; in a body, I could never heal and never break.

"Ah. I know that face." Maxwell sighed, "I've seen it many times."

I snorted, "Yeah, I'm sure you've seen death's face many times. Congratulations. Can you leave me alone?"

"You didn't move for anyone else, speak to anyone else the past few days. Why me?" I opened my mouth but nothing came out. He jumped on the silence "I think it's because you have been alone for the past two decades and talking to a stranger about this... transformation is easier than telling an old friend the truth."

I bared my teeth at him. I wasn't entirely sure why. I just needed to. He did not flinch "Tell me, how much of my history do you know?"

I shrugged "Not much." Bullshit. I knew everything. Maxwell had been my hero growing up. Defied the normal laws. But I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to hate my coven so much I didn't have to hate myself.

Seeing his expecting face, I caved. "Fine. You're one of the most powerful warlocks to exist. Well, one of the only warlocks to exist, because you were born in a female body and therefore technically have the witch blood in you. And, after you were elected as Arch Mage, you announced to the world you were using mortal ways to become yourself. To be male. And you were the first male to hold any office in the council that also held magic."