“I thought it was a gag!” you bemoan to her. “Magic isn't real! Or, er, it is but... it wasn't!” You sit there clutching your knees and rocking ever so slightly, all the while thinking that of all the impossible predicaments you could have gotten yourself into, this was probably the most embarrassing. You might have grown tentacles, or had your skin dyed permanently pink, or been cursed to forever stink like a goat. If anything like that had been the case you wouldn't be so terrified of the idea of showing yourself to your friends and family. Your masculinity was always so important to you, and more importantly who would believe that it was you, David? You might even get into trouble with the law for want of a valid ID! “This was supposed to be a... I thought it was a costume shop! You were crazy, or... and I tried everywhere else! I just needed a freakin' job!”
Marisa meanwhile is looking quite disappointed herself; her eyes are tightly shut and she clutches her forehead forcefully with her palm, slowly shaking her head left and right. “Damn!” he hisses, seeming to be speaking to no-one in particular. Suddenly she starts gesturing wildly with her arms and gazing up towards the ceiling. “This! This!” she continues “This is what I get for advertising in the paper. Yeah! Fine! Brilliant!” For a moment she almost seems a little unhinged, but then she quickly calms down and speaks to you in a very serious tone. “Well, I'm sorry.” she says, sounding at least a little genuine. “You're stuck. There's nothing I can do to make you a boy again. Maybe you should accept it and take the job anyway. I promise you'll like it after a while.”
“Are you serious?!” you hiss back at her in terrified, angry bewilderment. “Nothing? There's nothing?! I-I-I can't live like this! I can't SHOW myself to anyone like this!”
“And that was part of the contract!” Marisa cuts in. “You READ it... right?” She quiets for a moment as if expecting you to answer. Finally you manage to squeak in a sheepish tone “No... not really...” For an instant your own idiocy mildly amuses even you, you can't help crack a faint, ironical, pained smile for a split second. Marisa turns her head to look away for a moment in obvious exasperation, then quickly turns back. “Well, I said there was nothing I could do to make you a boy again. What I DIDN'T say is there was nothing I could do at all. If you don't want to be my apprentice, fine, but you'll still have to live and work HERE, you don't have a choice anymore. And don't give me that look this is as much your stupid fault as mine. But... look...”
She kneels down so that your faces are at a level. She looks you straight in the eyes, concern and sympathy evident in her own. “Think about this for a while, but there is a way to make it less noticeable. I can tell that's what's bothering you.” She gives you a quick disgusted look that tells you whatever exactly it is she understands, it kind of makes her want to punch you in the face. “The magic is still fresh and formless inside you, you could become anything at this point with a little prompting. Whatever you become you'd still be a girl... version of it, but in a lot of animals gender is hard to tell. And familiars are almost as valuable as apprentices.”
“W-what? A-animals?” you stutter, feeling as if you'd tuned out for a moment and lost something.
“Yes.” she says. “You can't ever have your old life back, and I'm sorry about that I really am, but you're going to have to pull your weight somehow. If you don't want to have to adjust to life... like this, like the way you are now, then you can change even more. I can change you so much that you being a girl won't seem to matter at all, and you'll have a new life. It'll be much more interesting than whatever you were doing before, I promise. You'll... still be female, but... what do you think about a female hawk, or a cat, or a stoat?” Marisa seems to be becoming progressively exuberant as she lists her first three choices off, sounding almost dreamy, perhaps even envious. “It's much less responsibility than an apprenticeship, though... it's also more of a sacrifice. No popping out to go to the store, no independence, no speaking to non magi.” She adds derisively “You've got issues by the way, if this is what you actually want.”
A long time seems to pass before you manage an answer. It takes a while for the young witch's words to really sink in. You try to weigh the decision in your mind. More specifically you try to think of as many reasons as you can to stay human. But what you always end up coming back to is the feeling that those heavy masses on your chest don't belong there, they feel almost like tumors or parasites; you continue to try your best not to touch or even look at them. Dimly you understand that it's something you'll get used to, but the unnatural alien sensations are too immediate to ignore.
“Anything but this...” your voice croaks out. Once again Marisa sighs in tired exasperation. “I REALLY hope you learn to stop saying things like that soon.” she says, shaking her head.
“Will I stay who I am?” you ask? “Will I forget?”
“Your mind will be suspended on a foundation of pure magic.” she responds poetically. “If anything you might actually get smarter, or I hope so anyway.” She smiles. She seemed to be about to continue when you suddenly interrupt with one last question. “Will I just be cooped up in here for the rest of my life?”
“Er-no...” Marisa replies. “At first, maybe, until you get used to it, but if you're well behaved I can let you out into the backyard occasionally. Anyway, if this is what you want, I only really know five transformation spells. You could be a red-tailed hawk and fly all on your own... you could be an ermine, a house-cat (the classic), a python... you know, the snake... or, a red fox.”
"This is what I want," you confirm after a moment, before choosing...
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