Tea time was the most wonderful time of the day! Mother always insisted on having tea when the sun hung highest in the sky, it was the most beautiful time of the day after all!

“So dear, what do you know about magic?” Mother asked, taking a small sip from the cup she always used.

“Ummm… Just what you’ve told me really…” I was a bit confused by mother’s sudden topic. Usually, she would teach me about the proper ways to drink tea and stuff. “Can you tell me more about it?”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose so. Now all magic comes from the fae. You must either be gifted magic, or you must bargain for it. My bloodline was lucky enough to be gifted it, long ago, and that means you have it as well.”

“So I have magic, too?!” My jaw dropped in astonishment. Mother couldn’t just drop information like that out of nowhere! That was amazing. Magic users always seemed so rare.

“Yes. In theory. Your purple eyes are indicative enough. Now, given this, I think it’s rather important you understand the nature of the magic you, and I, have in our veins.”

I nodded my head furiously. Mother always knew so much about magic, she was such a powerful sorceress but I thought she had to just learn it all on her own! I never knew I could have that kind of magic too.

“Our magic derives from the Lepidopterid court. They are a race of elegant, moth-like women. Yes, only women. They embody change, and self actualization, thus, our magic is drawn from understanding ourselves, and reaching for it.”

“But I’m… I’m not a girl though?” I didn’t understand that, as I sipped on my tea a little.

Mother chuckled. “You don’t need to be a girl, you are still mostly human after all, though it’s not uncommon for sorcerers of Lepidopterid blood to be… uncomfortable in their own skin so to speak. Luckily the magic of change comes naturally to us, so you usually would never even notice.”

“So unless I change I can’t ever use the magic inside me?” I tilted my head to the side, still trying to figure out what Mother meant.

“No, if your true self is a boy, you will have no issues. Do you want to change, my child?”

“I… I dunno…” I sipped my tea again, allowing the warmth to overcome me. Tea time was far better than when Father needed me to train alongside him. At least he allowed Mother to mostly dictate my schedule.

“Well, if you ever realize that is what you want, you can and should make steps to achieve that. Denying your true self is considered… well, a grave insult by the Lepidopterid queen.”

“Why is it an insult?” I asked. “Wouldn’t denying yourself only really hurt… well you?”

“Every single person with Lepidopterid blood has a hint of her essence. She granted that essence to our ancestors with the expectations that they would achieve their best selves. Failing to do that is well, disrespectful to her gift.”

“What does she do if someone disrespect her gift?”

“She comes and sets things right, by force if necessary. If you don’t achieve your best self, she will make you that self, whether you like it or not.”

“That seems a little bit scary though…” I shuddered slightly at the thought of it.

“Fae monarchs are on par with the deities of man, without the issues that come with lacking a physical form. It is certainly scary, yes. And gods forbid you attempt to keep her essesnce from self actualizing. You will not live to tell the tale.”

“So even Father would lose against them if they came here?”

“Almost certainly, yes dear. Don’t worry though, that won’t ever happen~”

I mulled over her words, letting them comfort me like a warm blanket. She always knew how to make the scary thoughts go away. Even with Father being the most revered warrior in the province, Mother was far more powerful. As long as she was here, things would be okay, I knew they would.

“I’ll make sure I live to be my best self then!” I assured myself. “I’ll make you, Father, and the Queen proud!”

I sat at the edge of the ballroom, rubbing my cuffs nervously. Being seen like this made my skin crawl and so I avoided the dance floor like the plague. I just found myself staring over at the women, and their beautiful flowing dresses, and for some bizarre reason felt jealous.

Why did their dresses get to look so wonderful, and meanwhile I was stuck wearing… Ugh, I looked like a miniature version of Father, and that was definitely not how I wanted to come off.

It would be weird regardless. I was a man, that sort of thing wasn’t for me, no matter how much I wanted it. How I wish mother hadn’t’ died… She would have helped me sort through this.

“Son, what are you doing all the way over here?” The sudden gruffness of my Father rang into my ears.

“I… I don’t know what i’m doing here.”

“You’re in the wrong place, that’s why.” He said matter-of-factly. “The women are over here, and I need you with me to discuss the approaching Elven army. We are not to go to war with them, but if they plan to enter uninvited we must defend our land.”

I sighed, lowering my head. “Yes father…”

I hated war talk, I liked clothes and tea and sweets and art. I didn’t like fighting. I used to paint, I used to sing, I used read. I wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. It drained so much. I was always closer with mother but since she died… my father had buried himself in his work, and dragged me along with him.

“Good, now come along, if you are to be my blade, my right hand, you must be aware of what the Defense Council is planning.” He patted me on my shoulder, and I nearly felt like I might retch right there. I wanted the things Father had taken from me back. “We’re doing good work, son. Protecting our innocents and keeping them safe with our lives. That is what a good ruler does. Our lives for theirs.”

As I was dragged away, back to more talk of fighting, killing, and war I could overhear the women speaking of the arts and everything I was forced to give up. I wished I could be there too.

I vomited. Without any dignity or grace, I had vomited by the time I had managed to escape back into the room where I would be able to bathe and escape for just a moment. What had I done? How could I? They were attacking, I had to defend myself, our land… The armor clanked heavily to the ground as I stripped myself bare to nothing. I could smell it, their blood on me.

I wanted to sob. I hated this. I hate what I was becoming. I didn’t ever want to have to do anything like that, and I certainly hoped I would never have to do it again. And so I scrubbed as I entered the water. I scrubbed so hard to remove the drying stains of blood across my arms and hands and face. Filthy. Disgusting. Guilty.

That’s what I was. Guilty. Just like Father, I would carry such horrific sins in the name of protecting others. I hated it.

I clenched at my stupid, fit body that I hated, almost enough to draw blood as I stared in the mirror. I hated what I saw. I hated it so much. I was just… I was just my Father. He turned me into him. I hated it. I cried.

I fell forward, holding myself against the mirror for support, letting the tears fall into the washbasin.

Anything but him… Oh, to be anything but him… What a disgusting reflection… Wait, what? That was not me. I leaned back in shock, as before me I saw a completely different individual in the mirror. I was losing it now, the guilt was consuming me, wasn’t it?

The woman in the mirror was beautiful, ethereally beautiful. She wore a long flowing dress, made of materials I couldn’t even imagine. They swayed gently in an imagined breeze. She had fluffy yellow antenna sticking out of her head.

“What… What are you?” I tiredly asked the odd reflection, my head tilting to the side.

She merely grimaced. “You can do better. Don’t test my patience.”

“Do better? What…? What do you mean?”

She scowled. “Do better at being you.”

“There’s nothing left of me…” My eyes dropped, not wanting to stare into those judging eyes any longer. “I think what was left started to die today.”

“Never too late to change. Don’t test my patience.” She finished, and vanished, leaving that disgusting face in her place.

What in the Hells was that? I took a deep breath as my own dirty reflection returned. I needed rest. I was losing my mind. Change myself? I was being changed… for the worse I think. And whatever my brain was trying to tell me was almost definitely wrong.

I retired to my bedroom after yet another poor attempt at a strategy meeting with the Defense Council. It’s like they couldn’t be bothered to listen about what makes defense what it is, and not just being aggressive warmongers. Father needed to keep his generals on the same page, otherwise we’re just asking for all out war with the Elves.

Again.

How many wars has it been this time? Four? Five? In as many years? It was futile. I had been fighting since I was fifteen years old. It hurt. I had scars, i had killed countless, and i still felt disgusted by it.

At what point did defending our land just become waging pointless wars with another species that had no inclination left for war? Ah whatever. I needed a drink.

I made my way to the tea room, and picked out my favorite mix. My Father always hazed me for drinking tea, but mentioning that it was in memory of Mother shut him up.

I took a sip from a glass my Mother once used. I had kept it for all of these years, the only way to continue any sort of relationship with her.

I remembered the time my mother told me about the magic of change. Why hadn’t my magic ever come? She said it would, in time.

It never did. I don’t think it ever would. Perhaps the magic within me we so diluted by the human blood, that it was better to just ignore it. I would never be like Mother, I knew that for certain. She was a great, brave, and powerful woman.

In the silver platter used for tea, the woman returned, sitting in her same flowing dress. She was grimacing far more than last time.

“You… It’s you again?” I had not seen that woman since I was a teenager, but the memory was still clear as day. Had the meeting really been that stressful?

“The only thing that has been diluted is your sense of self.” The woman said, glowering.

“As though you would know.” I sarcastically retorted, rolling my eyes at the figment of my imagination.

“I do.” She said. “I can see the truth of your soul, and it isn’t this.”

“Wrong. I don’t have a soul. It withered and died after the Second Elven Invasion.” Killing used to cause me so much guilt, but now I just… It was a thing I did. A thing I had to justify doing.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know who has been putting these ideas in your head, but I would suggest using that blade of yours and cutting their head off, lest I need to do it for you.”

“I’m sure Father would be displeased if I attempted a coup because I was losing my mind.” Again, sarcasm flowed from my mouth like a waterfall.

“Oh, you still think i’m a figment of your imagination. How quaint.” Her eyes glowed and I felt locked in place. Her words were Truth.

“YOU WILL MAKE AN ATTEMPT TO IMPROVE YOURSELF, OR I WILL DO IT FOR YOU.” She said, and I knew it was Truth. And once more, the woman vanished as quickly as she had come.

What…? What was that? “Oh I… I think I need another drink.”

The gown was beautiful. It was Mother’s. I had been tidying away some old things in our old shared room we would use for tea when the icey season would come. Things had become… slightly more peaceful, surprisingly enough, offering me some time to myself for the first time in over a decade.

Oh it was truly splendid, if my memory served right, it was a Sorceress Ball gown. Mother said she would take me there when I finally had my magic but… Incredible that it had not been victim to the ages of neglect it had faced. It was sewn together out of the most ethereal silk I had ever touched, and something told me there was some magic in there too. Maybe that’s what made it fit for a sorceress.

I wondered for just the briefest of moments… Mother and I were roughly the same size, were we not? Just for a moment, it would be okay. Not like Father would come bother me, he despised having to look back on memories from the past. I smiled slightly, and stood up before bouncing over to the mirror. My heart was racing with excitement, though I wasn’t sure why. I just really wanted to wear the dress, just once, to see how it would look. I held it up in the mirror and it looked just as stunning in the reflection.

Taking deep breaths, I slipped out of the princely clothes I was dressed in to make room for the pristine-looking dress.

I felt like a pervert, to be fair, I probably was, but it felt right. Sure my body was crossed with scars, but this dress would almost certainly fit my figure. It covered the shoulders adequately and avoided accentuating features I didn’t have. Altogether, it was rather conservative, but that was probably for the best.

I put on the dress, ensuring my eyes were closed, partly out of fear, partly out of a childish sense of surprise.

I smiled. For the first time in so long, I genuinely smiled as I twirled a bit in the dress. For the first time in forever, I felt like everything was right. I was myself, and it felt absolutely magical to not be haunted by everything else. I looked into the mirror, and I could imagine her right there… My Mother standing there saying I looked beautiful.

It wasn’t perfect yet, I still had a body I wasn’t proud of, but the fae blood in me lended me a lithe figure and elfin features that most could probably confuse me for a woman, if not for the criss crossing of scars up and down my body.

The moth woman appeared in the mirror, smiling at me, holding me by the shoulders in the reflection. She seemed pleased with me, happy.

“Good gi-” She started to say, before the door flew open.

“Boy, I need your opinion on the upcoming festiv-...” My Father walked in, looking over several papers in his hands. He looked up and stopped speaking immediately. I had seen that look before, the look the warrior held when he struck down Elven life during his pointless crusades. Never… Never did I think he would aim that look at me. “What in the Hells are you doing?”

The woman in the mirror grimaced, not speaking, yet the look she gave me told me to stand my ground b-b-but… I…

“Noth-”

“Boy! Why are you wearing your Mother’s dress? What in the Hells are you thinking?! That’s not for you!” His rage was palpable, dropping papers onto the ground in anger as he walked toward me.

I felt tears well up in eyes, the dam of years of repressed emotions burst in an instant as I collected my clothes and ran off.

“Why are you crying, boy?! This is not the Warrior Prince I raised. Shape up, boy.” He offered the back of his hand towards my face, before turning around and fuming out of the room in absolute fury.

“INSUFFERABLE.” The woman in the mirror said as the mirror exploded into shards of glass. The stroke of thunder occurred right afterward.

I slammed the door to my room shut, collapsing onto my bed, tears falling down my face. It hurt. It hurt so much. The rain began to thunder down as I removed the dress, tossing it into the corner.

That’s not… how this was supposed to happen… That’s not right… I wasn’t supposed to cry, but I couldn’t help but keep doing it. What was the woman in the mirror saying? Why had Father arrived just then? He could care less about my non-war opinions… The pain was so much. It was too much to bear on my own…

I eyed the clothes I had removed, glaring, only to see a beam of pure moonlight pour through the window to my room. My room overlooked the courtyard, giving me a goood view of what was occuring outside, and there, in the storm, sat a radiant woman.

The woman in the mirror.

She was cast aloft on brilliant wings, floating in the sky above the courtyard. Her brilliant aura of pure moonlight soothed my soul, drawing me in like nothing had before. I realized it then, I realized my mistake. I remembered all the things my mother had told me, about my blood, about the fae.

I had made a fatal error, one she would be correcting for me.

“COME OUT, YOU INSUFFERABLE COWARD OF A KING! FACE ME!”

My Father walked out, alone.

“A Fae in my castle?” My Father asked, rage still stewing like boiling water. Even in facing something as powerful as a Fae, he stood his ground. It was the only consistent thing about him. “What do you want outside of your realms?”

“YOU HAVE DEFILED A GIFT FREELY GIVEN, YOU HAVE INSULTED ME AND MY HONOR.”

“A gift freely given to my wife’s ancestors is not nearly enough to summon you here.” My Father placed his hand on the handle of his sword. “This is my child, I will raise him as I see fit.”

She glowered. “You know not the level of insult, keeping one of my chosen from bearing the gift she has been given.”

“I saw what happens to your chosen. Drained of her very soul, magic ripping her body apart! I didn’t even have a body to bury.”

“She died as it was who she was. Her life for the lives of strangers. Her essence returned to me, as is the contract.”

“And where were the Fae to help claim one of their supposed chosen?” My Father spit venomously, drawing his sword from his scabbard. “The Fae are power hungry and have no place in our realms. And I certainly will not take parenting advice from a giant BUG!”

The woman pulled out a string of purple magic, placing it in her palm. “Her essence belongs to me. She died with joy in her heart. Her rage is my own, at what you did to your progeny.”

“Do not speak for my dead wife… You think I insufferable? While you allow have all of the power of the Gods and sit there in your own realms, watching us destroy ourselves? As my wife burns for a dragon, a creature created and formed by the magic of the Fae? I will never allow such a fate to befall my child. He will live as I, as a human! To serve in the name of our citizens until we drop dead.”

The woman landed, drawing a simmering silver blade that glowed with the light of the moon. “Change is inevitable. You either embrace it, or you die. Strike but one wound upon me, and I will consider this debt settled.”

“And if I fail? What will you do to my child?” My Father growled lowly.

“Five years. She will find herself within five years, or I will return to ensure she becomes who she is on the inside.”

“Know that the blood of humanity runs deep within him.” My Father pounded on his chest. “Willpower will always overcome the dark magics of the Fae. It’s why humanity still stands strong!”

The queen laughed. Laughed, an ethereal, perfect laugh that did unthinkable things to my mind. “Oh, you truly are a fool. Have at thee.”

“I may fall today… But mark my words, my son will overcome you.” My Father ran at her, his blade drawn and reflecting the light of her moonlit sword.

“Quite a shame you don’t have a son.” She grinned, flowing forward with glee.

Their swords struck one another, and I knew My Father would fall. He only managed about twenty seconds of swordplay, before the woman managed to disarm his blade, which clattered to the ground. All things considered, he lasted longer than any known human had against the Fae. Twenty seconds in the history of eternity.

The fae queen wasted no time. The second the blade was out of his hand, the holy blade of moonlight was driven through his chest. His armor had no effect, moving straight through as if it were not there. The implication that, if the queen had wanted to, his sword could have been cut through just as easily hung in my head.

This was a game to her.

She looked up at me, watching in horror through the window, grinning wide. “Five years little princess, don’t test my patience~”

And then she was gone.

The storm cleared with her absence, leaving the setting sun to frame my fathers limp corpse.

My Father’s body laid dead on the ground.

I was in charge now.

I had become my Father. She wanted me to change. And I had changed into the thing I wanted least.