The day ended later than usual.
Brandt had received another small commission at the last moment, and Arthur had stayed behind sharpening and organizing until almost sunset.
When he finally went up to his room, his legs were trembling a little from tiredness and his head was still buzzing with numbers.
3%.
He closed the door carefully and leaned against the wood.
For a moment he stayed still, listening to the sounds of the house: Tessa talking with their mother downstairs, the distant crackle of the forge dying down, a dog barking somewhere in the neighborhood.
Then he did what he had put off all day.
He took off his shirt.
In front of the small, fogged mirror hanging on the wall, Arthur studied himself carefully.
His chest was still flat, his shoulders narrow as always, his arms thin.
Nothing dramatic.
And yet…
He stretched out his fingers and touched his forearm.
The skin was smoother.
Not by much.
Not enough to make him look like a girl.
But enough to notice.
The small imperfections and the faint marks he’d had for years seemed softened, as if an invisible hand had passed over everything to even it out.
He leaned closer to the mirror and examined his neck, his collarbone, his face.
The features were the same, but there was a slight extra softness in his cheeks.
His hair, still short, seemed a touch glossier.
“Phase 1…” he murmured.
He opened the Status with just a thought.
By now he had learned that concentration was enough.
text
[Curse: Gender Transformation – Blood of Lysara] Phase: 1/4 Progress: 3%
Still 3%.
It hadn’t risen any further during the afternoon.
At least that.
Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and ran both hands over his face.
The part of him that was twenty-two wanted to reason coldly: It’s only the beginning.
You have time.
You can find a way to stop it or slow it down.
The part that was Arthur, however, felt only a growing unease, almost an anticipatory shame.
And there was also that smell.
He leaned slightly toward his own shoulder and inhaled.
It was there.
Light, sweet, almost floral, but not soap.
It came from his skin.
It wasn’t unpleasant.
On the contrary.
It was… pleasant.
And precisely for that reason it made him feel even more uncomfortable.
“Shit,” he whispered.
He stood up again, put the shirt back on, and went to sit by the window.
Outside, the lights of Valenford were coming on one after another.
The city knew nothing about him.
His family knew nothing.
Only he carried that secret, and the secret had already begun to change his body.
He stayed watching the dark sky for a long while.
At a certain point he heard Tessa’s light footsteps approaching his door.
She knocked twice, but didn’t come in.
“Brother?
Are you okay?
You’ve been weird all day.”
Arthur swallowed.
“I’m fine.
Just tired.”
There was a pause.
“If you need anything you can tell me, you know?
Even if it’s something stupid.”
Tessa’s voice was less teasing than usual.
There was a serious note in it, almost worried.
“I know,” he answered.
“Thanks.”
The footsteps moved away.
Arthur remained seated for a long time longer, with the Status closed but always present in his mind.
3%.
A small number.
Almost ridiculous.
And yet it already represented a direction from which he could no longer turn back.
He lay down on the bed without even taking off his trousers and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow he would have to pretend again that everything was normal.
He would have to work, talk to his parents, put up with Tessa’s teasing.
And in the meantime his body would keep changing, millimeter by millimeter, percentage by percentage.
He closed his eyes.
The last thing he thought, before slipping into sleep, was a sharp and uncomfortable question:
How much time do I have left before someone notices?