Warily, I went to see Hanuun. He was a bit mirthful at my predicament and explained that I had been the victim of a prank by a classmate. Apparently it was a common enough practice that there were even rules in place to prevent it from getting too out of hand. The first rule I needed to know was that the same person couldn’t prank me again until I had retaliated. So I had time to figure out who it was and plan from there.
The second rule was that since the prankster had chosen a permanent condition, I had the right to petition the school to cure me after one year at no cost. The third was that any prank could do no lasting actual harm. Apparently replacement of my reproductive organs wasn’t considered actual harm.
First thing I did was ask Wyran to send a messenger for Kerric, who I believed could be trusted to be discreet. When he arrived, I explained the situation and asked him to tell the others that I couldn’t make the performance due to illness. I told him that he was not to mention my condition to anyone as it might interfere with my plans for revenge later.
After he left, I sat down and thought for a bit. After the initial shock had worn off, I decided that I really wasn’t all that upset about the whole thing. I mean, it was interesting from a scientific point of view. When I make it back, I might be able to get one hell of a book deal out of this event alone. So, cha-freaking-ching, baby. In that light, I guess I could deal with not being able to pee standing up for a while.
I stepped over to a mirror to admire my new body. Now, normally, I’m not bad looking. Sure, you won’t see my face and ripped abs on the cover of Men’s Health any time soon. Mostly because at sixteen percent body fat, you really can’t see my abs. Anyway, the point is that normal me looks decent.
Female me, however, is a bombshell. Sixteen percent body fat on a man is relatively fit. On a woman, you look like an athlete. I wanted to fling a discus, jump some hurdles, or maybe even find a nice pole to dance on. And my face was gorgeous, my angular features having given way to soft, gentle ones with just a hint in the eyes that I was dangerous.
I stared at my face, and other things, in the mirror for a bit before deciding that I would need some new clothes. When I went to speak to Wyran about it, he had already anticipated my needs. A dressmaker and cobbler had already been contacted. They arrived after I had taken the time to eat a small breakfast, mindful that the female body doesn’t burn quite as many calories as the male body, all else being equal.
I picked out several flattering dresses(and some other required undergarments) and a single utilitarian smock before asking the dressmaker if she would be willing to make something custom for me. We hashed out the details and she promised it just shy of a week later. As for shoes, I was fitted for some flats in several different styles and colors as well as a single pair of black military boots that I insisted on, despite protests about not putting dainty feet like mine in such things. I requested that the boots be altered a bit, with buckles and laces to match my special outfit.
In one of my new outfits, a simple floral dress and some flats, I headed out into the city. At first I was self conscious about all the heads I turned as I walked by, but I found myself getting used to it after a bit. I did a bit of browsing while acclimating myself to being in public. While shopping, I picked up some ribbons for my hair because I was pretty sure that was a thing I would need to get used to and a coat with far too many buckles and snaps. I made a note that I would have ask Wyran to teach me how to deal with the ribbons, since he had been the one to help me get my hair into a nice ponytail.
After getting used to everything, I began looking into who had done this to me. I discreetly asked around a bit before discovering that the only person who sold cursed items like the one that had been used on me was a shady dealer who operated near the docks.
I returned home and changed into a more conservative dress and donned my smock, making sure that I had my component pouch and other items I would need for spell casting in case I ran into any unsavory characters at the docks. I also arranged for Calais, who didn’t know my situation, to be in that area, knowing that if worst came to worst, I could scream for help and have a paladin come running. I would have just had him escort me, but I didn’t want my tormentor to know what I looked like, so I needed to avoid being out in public with people I knew.
Well, there was another reason I needed to not have the paladin with me, and that was because I was likely going to have to threaten the dealer to get any information out of him and I didn’t want the presence of a paladin undermining my threats of torture.
When I reached the area, I approached the weasel faced man and plainly declared what I wanted to know. He sneered at me and lewdly told me, in graphic detail, what I would have to do to get that information. Now, in apparent proof that the mind is at least partially the plaything of the body, I had in fact suddenly found myself checking out men, but I was still uncomfortable with that whole thing and it was going to be a cold day in hell before I was going to indulge this man in particular. So I made my threats. I’m not going to go into too much detail about what I said, but the words scrotum, glass and rock salt were involved.
He didn’t budge. So I left to formulate a new plan. Deep in thought, I bumped right into someone. It was Kerric. “The hell are you doing here?!” I asked.
“I ran into Calais. He told me you had asked him to be in the area, so I suspected you might need help.”
“You idiot! We can’t be seen together…” I trailed off as a deliciously evil thought occurred to me. “Scratch that. Let’s go find Calais.” With the puzzled look on his face, I just grinned. “You happen to know of any abandoned warehouses near here? I think I have a way to make this guy talk.”
“Yeah, I know of one.”
“Excellent.” We reached the paladin and I explained my situation. I told him a bit about what I had planned.
“I can’t condone torture,” he said flatly.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to help me make the guy so scared that I’m torturing him that he believes I might actually be doing so. Come on, no one’s actually going to get hurt, aside from maybe the headache he’ll have when you guys knock him out and detain him. After I’m done, we’ll turn him in to the paladins of Abadar so he can get punished for his smuggling. Think of it as doing our civic duty with just a small detour along the way.”
“You’re running dangerously on semantics here.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’ll all work out. Trust me.” I found out where the warehouse was and asked them to detain our subject and take him there. I then went looking for an alchemist’s shop, since they would have the ingredients I’d need. After that, Hanuun was able to fabricate the props to my specifications and freeze enough water into ice for my needs.
I met them at the warehouse. It was a bit dank and certainly dark, perfect for my needs. The subject was tied up and sitting in a chair in the center of the room. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what I want to know, would you?” He responded by spitting at me. “Alright, we’ll play it your way.” I turned to my companions. “Leave his hands bound and hang him upside down from the ceiling while I set up.” Once the guy was hanging, Calais looked at my equipment and seemed alarmed. I grabbed a piece of ice and pressed it to his skin. “Trust me,” I whispered. “This is all he’s going to feel.” The paladin nodded.
“You can’t do this to me!” the man screamed. “There’s a paladin here! He’ll never condone torture!”
“Well, that is a conundrum. Calais, what do you have to say to that?”
“I have pressing business elsewhere. Do I have your word that you won’t harm this man?”
I held up my hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Well then, I must leave,” he said. He walked away, the interrogation subject screaming for him to come back the whole while. When he was out of sight of the subject, he stopped and watched from a vantage point shielded from view.
“Now, we’re all alone. Let me show you something.” I opened a canister and showed him the powder within. “This stuff here is called thermite. It burns hot enough to turn steel into butter. Watch.” I used the thermite to burn right through a steel bar I had brought. “Since you lack the benefit of coming from a world where medical knowledge has reached a fairly advanced level, let me explain to you how pain works. Within your body is a complex system of nerve fibers which allow you to feel things. Like if you cut yourself, your nerves send a signal to your brain that you’ve been injured. Under certain circumstances, however,” I emphasized my words by lighting the blowtorch I had gotten Hanuun to make for me, “your nerves are destroyed before they can send that signal. A thermite blowtorch, for instance, burns away the nerves before you can feel any pain. You’ll go into shock and just feel cold. You’ll smell burning meat. Then, only then, you’ll begin to hurt. Isn’t science fun?” I walked behind him. “Care to tell me anything?”
“Go to hell! You can’t do this to me!”
I shrugged. “Well, I tried. You saw it, didn’t you?” I asked Kerric. He nodded in full view of the man. I pulled the sheet off of the table sitting next to the man, just out of his field of vision and grabbed a piece of ice. “Here goes,” I said. I turned the torch on a piece of pork sitting on the table. It began to sizzle and I poked him with the ice.
He screamed in anticipated agony. “I’ll talk! Please, just stop!” I pulled the blowtorch from the meat and stopped touching him with the ice. “I sold the belt to Chadwick Voidstrife! Please, just don’t hurt me anymore!”
I turned off the torch and replaced the sheet over the table. “Calais, you can cut him down and turn him in to the paladins of Abadar now. He had enough contraband on him to ensure several months in prison. Don’t forget to heal his wounds first.” I walked around to the front of the man. “Once you get out, I want you to use your skills to earn an honest living. If I ever find out that you’ve been smuggling cursed items again, I will find you and we will continue this discussion at length. Understand?” He nodded. “Good. Have a great day!” I said with my sincerest smile. He just babbled incoherently.
I later found out that he had tried to tell the paladins of Abadar that we had tortured him, but Calais’ word that he had not been harmed aside from the blow he’d taken while resisting detainment was enough to convince them that the man was lying. Sometimes I really love semantics.
Now that I had a name to work with, I began researching. The man we were looking for was indeed the man I had punched. He was also the son of one of the richest families in Absalom. They even had a large estate in the Petal District(The wealthiest district in Absalom). He had resources. But I had the rules on my side. He couldn’t do a damn thing until I actually returned fire. That was how I would win.
I worked through the night. The next morning, I gave Kerric music for the songs I wanted the group to play and asked him to tell the others I had hired someone to fill in for me while I was ill. I had the bartender send a letter of apology to Chadwick, offering him a free bottle of wine if he came to our next performance. Then I waited.
On the evening of the next performance, I donned my special made outfit, laced up my boots and checked myself out in the mirror. The dress went down to about mid thigh and the socks went up almost that high, leaving the barest hint of skin. The whole outfit was trimmed with black lace and I had a scarf tied under the collar. I looked like I belonged in a manga. It was perfect. I donned a velvet hooded cloak I had purchased and used a tiny bit of magic to turn it red. I headed to the tavern.
I took a seat near the front. As my friends prepared to play, I looked through the crowd. He was here. I smiled a bit to myself and motioned for the bartender to snuff out most of the lights. All that was left was a single candelabra by the bar and some magical lighting on the stage.
The group began to play and Scott started singing.
“Hey, who’s that in the woods?
Why, it’s Little Red Riding Hood!
Hey there Little Red Riding Hood,
You sure are looking good.
You’re everything, a big bad wolf could want!”
He let out a howl and I illuminated myself with a light spell. My red hood was drawn up. The performance as I walked onto the stage and began to play with them electrified the crowd. After the cheers died down from the song, I approached the center of the stage and introduced myself.
“My name is Fleur de Lis, and I’m glad to be here!” The room filled with applause and more than a few catcalls. “Now, I’d like to sing a special song for a special someone. Please be a great crowd and make a path to the man the lights choose.” I cast a spell to summon a number of small dancing wisps of light and directed them around the room until they settled around Chadwick. I motioned for Nerina to follow me. As we walked, she began to play the song I had designated as the second song of the night to Kerric. If you’ve watched the same movies I have, you’ll recognize the song(It’s called “In Time” and it’s by Mark Collie, assuming I recall correctly).
“I can hear what you’re thinking,
All your doubts and fears,
And if you look in my eyes, in time you’ll find,
The reason I’m here.
And in time all things shall pass away,
In time, you may come back someday.
To live once more, or die once more,
But in time, your time will be no more.
You know your days are numbered,
Count them one by one,
Like notches in the handle of an outlaw’s gun.
You can outrun the devil, if you try,
But you’ll never outrun the hands of time.
In time there surely, come a day
In time all things shall pass away,
In time you may come back some say.
To live once more, or die once more,
But in time, your time will be no more.”
After the song, I waited for the applause to die down once more. “Chadwick Voidstrife,” I said imperiously, “You have sinned against me. Look at me and know that this is a declaration of intent so that you won’t be confused. One. ‘Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum.’ Latin. Particularly hard ass paintball team captain made us recite it like a prayer. ‘Si vis pacem, para bellum – If you want peace, prepare for war.’” I gave him a second to try to begin responding then cut him off. “Two. Kyle O’Halloran is dead. He died the moment he put on that belt. Three. In certain extreme situations, appropriate responses are inadequate. In order to shame their inadequacy, one must engage in measures far beyond the scale of what is appropriate. One must pursue… natural justice.”
“W-wait,” he stammered. “You’re…”
“Yes, I am Fleur de Lis, born of your treachery. What’s funny is that I am not really all that upset about what has happened to me. In a year, I’ll be back to normal. This won’t even be the strangest year of my life. It’s hard to top the year spent traveling through outer space atop a nightmarish creature. No, what upsets me is that you had the gall to believe that you could get away with this.”
“Then you plan to take revenge.”
“No. This is not vengeance. Revenge is not a valid motive, it’s an emotional response. No, not vengeance. Punishment.” I turned and walked past the gaping Nerina. I motioned to the stage and the drums began, followed by the others. I began to sing again.
“I’ll put a spell on you.
Your ass is mine.
You won’t know quite when,
you’ll receive punishment
divine.
No, you can’t run,
And you won’t find a safe place to hide.
Because this doom will be yours, yours, yours!
And justice mine!”
He fled from the tavern about then. I smiled as I sang. This was going to be fun.
When I was in high school and wanted to get into writing, I once took an online course on how to write effective horror stories. The instructor was careful to emphasize that it was important to allow the audience to fill in the blanks. That nothing was scarier than nothing. If you set the scene, play up the mood and allow the reader to fill in the blanks, or build up the tension only to have nothing happen, you’ll allow their minds to run wild with thoughts of what horrible things could have happened.
The same things people are afraid of as kids, scare them when they’re adults: fear of the dark, for example. Fear of being alone. And above all, fear of the unknown. I played on these. A bit of simple misdirection separating a man from his bodyguards, a few torches going out at the right time and boom, you have a gibbering idiot crying for his mother.
The key was to keep it varied and random. I wanted to push him over the edge so slowly that he didn’t see it coming. He was playing my game, so I dictated the schedule. I gave him breathers, let him relax just enough that he would let his guard down, then suddenly there I was, walking down the same street as him and just giving him a friendly greeting. His hair would stand on end and his nerves would launch right back into panic mode.
But the key was that I never did anything traceable. Nothing could prove he wasn’t just jumping at shadows. Remember, he couldn’t retaliate until I had actually done something.
But making his life hell wasn’t my only diversion. I returned to classes after the concert and got back into studying. I also discovered something interesting. Turns out the reason Nerina hadn’t been interested was because I was a man. Suddenly, we found ourselves having much more interesting discussions.
Between my psychological torture of Chadwick and Nerina’s sudden and most welcome advances, the next couple weeks just flew by.
The orchestra performance was spectacular. It had taken a lot of work to convince them that cannons could be used as musical instruments, but the 1812 Overture just wouldn’t have been the same without them. After the performance, they were sold on the concept and vowed to work cannons into more songs. I also sang the Star Spangled Banner, and I mean the full version. My male voice isn’t bad, a sexy baritone. But my female voice was made for singing.
It was the first time in a while that I felt that homesick. I had tears in my eyes as I sang, in English, the anthem of my home country. They had to finish the rest of the show without me, as I was struck by a mood most melancholy and was unable to concentrate.
The next week, I was attacked by assassins. Luckily, Calais and Nerina were with me, and the three of us managed to run them off. After that, I couldn’t go anywhere without at least those two at my side.
I continued waging my campaign of psychological warfare, pushing Chadwick over the edge faster and faster until one day he made the mistake I had been waiting for. He challenged me to a duel.
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