Transformation

I walked down the lodging's corridor in silence, each step echoing like a burden. The slaves' eyes followed me, but I saw nothing beyond the shadow of the Zairos' home burning in my memory. The image of the Zairos family still hammered at my mind without respite. Now, everything was ashes.

As I passed the main cell, Oliver leaned toward the bars, dragging his chains along the floor. His voice was low, venomous, a whisper meant to wound me:

— I heard… information. Your precious Sabrina and little Sairo… are dead too. — Oliver said with a smile.

My body froze. The air seemed to leave my chest. For a moment, rage and despair almost burst out of me. I stared at him with wide eyes but said nothing. If I spoke, my voice would fail.

Before the silence became suffocating, Wobo stepped to the front of the cell. His golden eyes shone, steady, appraising me like a beast that sees another predator.

— Araya. If what they say is true… if Princess Margarida took everything from you… then don't carry this weight alone. I intend to help you take revenge. — Wobo's deep voice broke the void.

I raised my eyes slowly, suspicious.

— Help? You're still behind bars. — I answered him.

The werewolf showed a grin full of fangs.

— Then get me out of here. And I'll fight by your side. — Wobo replied.

My heart swung between anger and doubt. But in that moment, pain was stronger than reason. I had nothing left to lose. The image of Sabrina and Sairo dead ate at me inside like acid.

— Don't do this, Araya! He will destroy you! You don't understand, you can't trust him! — Oliver shouted as he lunged at the bars.

But I didn't listen. I shoved the key into the lock and turned it. The gate opened with a metallic creak. Wobo stepped out slowly, upright, his shadow larger than the others there. He stretched his neck, relieved to be free, and looked at me with an expression that mixed respect and ambition.

— Now we're talking. If you want true vengeance, I have a plan. — Wobo said, folding his arms.

— What plan? — I asked, my voice still heavy with grief.

— There's a plant. A rare flower, with pink petals that turn bluish at the edges. Whoever consumes it becomes invincible for a time. I've seen men walk through entire battles without a scratch thanks to it. If you want to face Margarida, you'll need that strength. — Wobo lowered his tone almost in reverence.

My eyes narrowed.

— Invincible… sounds too good to be true. — I told him.

Wobo laughed, showing his teeth.

— Distrust is wise. But I wouldn't risk my hide if it were a lie. I know where to find it. It's in the fields of Losloyvier. A dangerous place, yes. But the risk is worth the reward. — Wobo replied.

I stayed silent for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision. Inside, something told me not to trust blindly, but the pain of loss and the desire for revenge burned hotter than reason.

— Very well. Ryn and Oliver, keep an eye on Wobo while I'm gone. If he steps out of line, make him regret it. — I finally said.

Ryn nodded silently, serious. Oliver grumbled but obeyed the order.

Then I turned to Kalea, who was already looking at me expectantly, as if she sensed what would come.

— Kalea. You're coming with me. Your stealth will be useful. Let's get that plant. — I said firmly.

She raised her eyes, breathed deeply, and nodded with a faint, determined smile.

Wobo gave one last warning.

— Remember, the fields of Losloyvier do not forgive. But if you get the flower… Princess Margarida will never be able to bring you down. — Wobo said in a low, growling voice.

I felt my heart harden. Sabrina. Sairo. Clarice. Beltrond. All the Zairos. My fury now had new fuel: a plant that promised the strength to crush whoever dared destroy everything I loved.

I took a step forward, determined.

— Then let's go to the fields of Losloyvier. — I said, full of confidence.

The trip to the fields of Losloyvier was oddly peaceful. No guards, no wild beasts, not even merchants on the road. The silence along the way felt like a warning, but I pressed on with Kalea at my side. She walked beside me, eyes alert, her hand always near the short dagger she carried.

We arrived at a grove of tall trees, where sunlight barely pierced the canopy. The air was humid, heavy, and there was a sweet sap smell carried by the wind.

And then I saw it.

The plant.

It was small, with pink petals that turned bluish at the edges, as if the sky had been painted onto its body. It stood alone, sprouting from dark soil, as if it had waited only for me.

— It's her… — I murmured, feeling my heart quicken.

— Too easy… — Kalea said as she approached with narrowed eyes.

I nodded silently. That was what bothered me. No guardian, no trap, nothing. Just the flower.

Still, I knelt and touched its root. The instant I pulled it, the plant writhed like an animal waking. Its branches transformed into small fangs that snapped at my hand.

Reflexes. My body reacted before my mind. I thrust the living plant into the iron box I'd brought, slamming the lid down hard. The sounds inside were of splinters striking, like an insect trying to break free from prison.

— This… is not a common plant. — Kalea said, breathing hard, her heart racing.

We carried the box back without speaking further. The return was as easy as the trip in, and that only increased the sense of a trap.

When we entered the lodging, whispers rose. Everyone looked at the box in my hands as if it held fire. I went straight to Wobo's cell.

He was already standing, waiting. When he saw the box, he smiled, revealing his sharp teeth.

— So you got it. — Wobo said, all smiles.

I approached the bars and glared at him with anger.

— The plant wasn't just waiting. It tried to devour me. — I said, irritated.

Wobo let out a low chuckle.

— Of course. Those flowers are not gathered without a fight. You did well to capture it. Now it's time to understand what it really is. — Wobo said.

Anger ate at me.

— Explain. — I demanded.

The werewolf narrowed his eyes, eyeing the crowded cell of slaves listening intently. He leaned forward.

— Not here. This is not conversation for curious ears. I need to talk to you alone. — Wobo said in a low tone.

I knew Ryn, Kalea, even Oliver were watching, expecting me to refuse. But my mind was already gripped by a strange feeling: if that plant had a secret, I needed to know it.

— In Oliver's room. No one will hear us there. — I decided.

Wobo nodded with a smile.

— Bring the box. — he said.

Ryn was the first to object.

— Araya, don't do this. It's too dangerous. — Ryn said firmly.

Kalea took a step forward, her eyes shining with worry.

— He could be setting something up. Don't trust him. — Kalea said, concerned.

Even Oliver, still marked and humiliated, shouted:

— You'll regret this! That monster isn't an ally, he only wants to manipulate you! — Oliver raised his voice.

But I didn't listen. I held the box tight and walked to Oliver's room, taking Wobo with me. The sound of his chains hitting the floor echoed like warning bells.

Oliver's Room

I closed the door behind us. The room was lit by only two torches, casting long shadows on the walls. I placed the box on the table.

Wobo stood before me, arms crossed. His golden eyes shone in the dark.

— Now, Araya. If you want the strength to take down Margarida, you must accept. — Wobo said.

— Accept what? — I asked, suspicious.

He pointed to the box.

— Open it. Let the plant bite you. — he said.

I was silent. The idea sounded absurd, insane. But something in Wobo's gaze left no doubt; he truly believed what he said.

My heart pounded. What if it's poison? What if it's a trap to kill me? But then the image of Sabrina, Sairo, Clarice and Beltrond dead flashed through my mind. Rage pushed me to the edge of the abyss.

I breathed deeply. My hands trembled for a moment—then steadied. Slowly, I released the box's latch.

The sound of branches scraping the lid echoed through the room. The plant's fangs appeared in the darkness, agitated and hungry.

Wobo smiled, revealing his lupine teeth.

— Let's see if you have courage, Copy's Hero. — Wobo teased.

And against every instinct, I decided to open the box.

The plant's bite felt like liquid fire spreading through my veins. My whole body began to tremble, every muscle contracting as if it were tearing inside. I fell to my knees, screaming, feeling my bones crack and my skin stretch as if it were no longer mine.

The plant vanished in particles of blue and pink light, as if it had fulfilled its purpose. The room fell silent except for my heavy breathing.

Wobo watched everything with a smile of pure satisfaction, his golden eyes gleaming in the dark.

— Perfect. Better than I dreamed. — Wobo murmured.

— What… did you do to me?! — I managed to say, still panting.

Before I could compose myself, Wobo stepped forward. One of his hands grabbed my waist firmly, and before I could react, he pulled my face close and kissed me suddenly.

My eyes widened. My body went rigid. Confusion flooded me along with disgust.

Why? Does he… like men like Oliver?

I shoved him away, gasping, wiping his lips with the back of my hand, not understanding the reason. But Wobo only laughed, a low chuckle full of malice.

— You still haven't noticed, have you? This plant doesn't give you invincibility. It transforms you. — Wobo said, his deep voice echoing through the room.

My heart raced. I put my hand to my chest and felt something soft where it didn't belong. Trembling, I looked down and the world collapsed.

Curves. Medium-sized breasts. And the absence of what had always been there.

— N-no… This can't be… — I murmured, my mind spinning in despair.

Wobo leaned in, teeth bared in a predatory smile.

— I've always wanted the Copy's Hero to be a woman. Now, finally, she is. — he said, satisfied.

My fists clenched, anger and confusion knotting into a suffocating lump. The only possible conclusion cut through my mind like a blade.

— I… am… a woman. — I murmured, finally understanding the situation.

Wobo laughed, satisfied, like a hunter who had finally caught his prey.

The room spun around me. The torches on the walls flickered, casting shadows that seemed to mock me. My own eyes refused to believe what they saw. My trembling hands moved up and down my body, confirming the impossible.

— N-no… this isn't real… it can't be… — my voice came out higher than I remembered, strange, as if it were not mine.

My heart pounded as if it would explode. A wave of nausea passed through me when I touched my chest again and felt the curves that had never been there. I wanted to scream, to punch the wall, to tear my own skin off.

Wobo approached, still smiling that satisfied predator's smile.

— Accept it, Araya. Now you are more… complete. — Wobo said with irony.

— Shut up! — I snarled, taking a step back.

Rage burned my chest, but the echo of confusion was even louder.

Am I still me… or am I not anymore?

My mind spiraled. If I was a woman now… who was the Copy's Hero? What remained of me? And worse: how would I look Ryn, Kalea, the other slaves in the eyes… if they saw that I did not even control my own body?

Memories came in an avalanche: Sabrina smiling, Sairo running after me and playing with me… the reflection of my former image so vivid. If they could see me now… would they recognize me? Or would they only see a stranger in Araya's place?

I felt tears welling up but swallowed them all. I would not cry in front of Wobo. I wouldn't give him that pleasure.

I lifted my chin, even though my whole body trembled.

— You think this destroys me, Wobo? — my voice faltered for an instant, but I regained firmness.

No matter what body I'm in. I'm still Araya. I'm still the Copy's Hero.

His smile widened, as if my hatred were what he most desired.

— Good. You'll need to convince yourself of that every day… until you can't anymore. — he said, smiling.

My fists clenched. I hated him. I hated Oliver. I hated Margarida. I hated this world. But above all, I hated the feeling of no longer having control even over my own body.

I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and thought: I will find a way to reverse this. Even if I have to crush every secret of this world with my own hands.