Erotica Magica

To the people of Greenwall, the Des’Cantier family were the closest things to celebrities that anyone could be in such a small town. They were well-loved and admired by most of the townsfolk for as long as they had lived there for generations on end. However, these days when someone spoke the Des’Cantier name it was usually followed by a shake of the head or a solemn word of pity and melancholy.

The Des’Cantiers had a child named Caspen, and this child would always be considered nothing less than an omen by the people of Greenwall. His parents had bright blue eyes and golden hair that shone like the morning sun. The child, however, had hair and eyes of scarlet. And it wasn’t the sort of red hair that was natural for the people of this part of the world, it wasn’t coppery or fiery orange, this child had hair and eyes the color of blood from a fresh wound.

The child was prone to fits of rage, and his parents often had a difficult time controlling him, especially in public places. The young Caspen didn’t really seem to like other people that much, and as the boy got older the Des’Cantiers would rarely bring him out with them as they went about their daily duties.

Then tragedy struck, when Caspen was only sixteen his parents died of an illness they shared, and left everything to him. Caspen never seemed very mournful of his parents’ deaths, and in fact, even seemed happier. There were no shortage of rumors that the boy poisoned his parents to get his hands on the family’s fortune, and now he locks himself away in their old mansion and performs dark rituals with evil magic.

As it happens, nearly all of the things the people of the small village believe about the Des’Cantier family is false, and only the child knew the truth.

For starters, the boy was in fact a girl. It was true that she had a penis and was born with one, but the child had always known she was a girl. Secondly, her parents were not as generous and admirable as the townsfolk would believe. The girl’s father was abusive, and her mother neglectful. Neither would hear the girl’s pleas to be brought up like a girl, to wear girl’s clothes, collect dolls, and insist on calling her a girl in public. Instead, perhaps believing it to be a phase, they insisted on bringing her up as a boy. This was the cause of many of her childhood tantrums.

When she reached puberty, the situation got worse. She actually grew breasts, though they were small, they poked out awkwardly from the clothes she wore. Instead of giving in and deciding this was more than just fantasy, her parents made her stay in the house, refusing to let her go out in public at all.

It was only after they died, which truly was of illness, that the young girl finally felt free. Not a single tear from the girl was shed at their funeral. After all, they had never truly loved her, they loved Caspen, the boy they wanted her to be. It was after she finally had freedom that she began demanding others address her as a female, and she changed her name to Cassia.

The townsfolk did not believe her when she told them the truth about her parents, and certainly would not heed her wishes. Many believed her to be the cause of her own parents’ deaths after all, and even those that didn’t think that way instead agreed that she had been driven mad from grief, which was why she went around calling herself a girl. The few members of the village who obeyed her wishes were either scared of her or they simply did not want to argue.

Our story, rather unfortunately, begins here. In the village of Greenwall on a fateful day when the young Cassia, now eighteen years of age, would have her life changed forever.

---

Cassia Des’Cantier strode out of her front door. She was not in a good mood, which was not unusual for any day she had to leave the house on top of the hill and go down into the village, but today it was especially bad. She’d had a nightmare last night. She was trapped in a room without doors or windows, and the walls began to close in, suffocating her. This made her awake with a fright when she believed herself to be crushed, but also an anxious claustrophobic feeling as well. She was restless, and dissatisfied more than usual. She couldn’t even concentrate on her reading, her favorite hobby. The Des’Cantier library was large, and Cassia’s only solace was in the books within, most of which she had already read cover-to-cover.

As much as she would have loved to just shut herself away in the old ill-maintained manor for the rest of her life, she did need to eat, and a distant part of her thought getting a breath of fresh air would calm her nerves.

Cassia didn’t even get any joy from dressing up. The only feminine clothing she had was old garments from her late mother’s wardrobe, which held too many poor memories; and though the idea of going to the local tailor to have feminine clothing made had tickled her mind, the likely outcome would have been botched and hideous. After all Dannek Fairstream, the tailor in question, was one of the townsfolk of the staunch opinion that she had murdered her parents.

Today she settled on a plain-looking summer dress, as the weather was nice, but hadn’t bothered to do anything with her shoulder-length straight hair. Who would she really be impressing? The wicker basket swung from side to side in her hands as she made her way down the hill to the market, which was thankfully close to the manor.

The flagstone path that bisected the market street was easily the busiest in all of Greenwall. One one end of the street was the Des’Cantier Manor and on the other end, the gates to the town. Cassia made her way along the road, trying her best to ignore the stares and murmurs whenever one of the townsfolk noticed her.

“Look, it’s the Des’Cantier boy...”

“I heard he murdered his parents...”

“He’s wearing his mother’s clothes, too. Has he no shame?”

It took all of Cassia’s willpower not to turn and shout at them. She had already done that once before, and the result wasn’t really in her favor. It only seemed to solidify the idea in their minds that she was unstable. What she wouldn’t have given to be left alone. To be able to walk out in the streets without whispers, without judgement, confident and feeling like her true self.

She went to the fruit stall, a sign was displayed above it announcing a two-for-one deal on apples today. The stall owner, a portly man with a big, bushy beard but visible laugh lines and round cheeks, was grinning as he waved goodbye to a pair of customers as they left. Cassia rarely saw him without a smile on his face, with one clear exception, and that was when he saw her.

The moment he noticed her blood-red hair and pale skin, his smile faded away as though it had never been there, and it was replaced with a dire look, like he was dealing with a criminal now.

“What do you want, boy?” His voice was full of disgust. Cassia’s temple twitched at what he called her. She decided to let it go.

“I’d like ten apples, sir.” She said as pleasantly as she could.

“Fifty coppers.” He said, simply.

Cassia glanced at the sign announcing the two-for-one deal and then at the sign showing the prices. It should have been twenty-five coppers. “The sign says—”

“Fifty coppers, boy.” He repeated through gritted teeth. “If you don’t want ‘em, shove off.” He added impatiently.

She was getting angry, but bottled it for now, thinking it wasn’t worth the trouble. She reached into her coinpurse and produced five silver coins, which was the equivalent to what he was asking, and dropped them into his waiting palm, which he withdrew quickly, as though she were diseased. He then grabbed the worst-looking apples from his bunch and began tossing them into her basket one by one.

“Off you go, boy.” He gave her a nasty look, but she just turned away. Her cheeks were flush with anger as she carried on, her teeth gritted behind her pursed lips.

There were whispers following her again.

“A disgrace to his family name…”

“His parents must be turning in their graves…”

She continued on, trying her best to ignore them. She managed to get through three more shopkeepers, getting a loaf of bread that looked a day away from sprouting mold, a wheel of cheese that was nearly half the weight she asked for, and a dozen potatoes that looked like they were already almost powder.

“Truly disgusting…”

As she made her way through the street she couldn’t help but notice the crowds were getting thicker, and she almost felt like their whispering voices were closing in on her like the walls of the room in her dream.

“Fancies himself a girl? I wouldn’t let my daughter near him…”

She was practically pushing her way through the crowds, unsure if they were actually closing in around her or if she was moving more quickly through them without giving them a chance to make way. Her mouth was open in a toothy scowl as she ground her teeth together in rage.

“He’s a bloody freak. Heard he made a deal with evil spirits to get that chest.”

She’d had enough.

“I am a woman! And you will refer to me as such!” The words shot from her mouth almost entirely without her realizing. They came out much more demanding and imposing than she had intended. She stamped her foot angrily as she said this.

Something in the air shifted as she said this, and her whole body was tingling. The crowd stared at her for a moment, but then got very glassy looks in their eyes. She spied one of the town guards, who she was sure would accost her for the outburst, but even he had the same glazed and slightly surprised look in his eyes.

“Right you are, miss.” He said to her and then turned to continue on his path.

One by one, each person in the crowd began to repeat what the guard had said to her and then began walking away going about their business. There wasn’t a hint of venom in their tones, in fact she could only sense sincerity. It stuck out to her, because sincerity and integrity wasn’t a tone she was used to dealing with when it came to them.

She stood there, dumbfounded for a few moments, unable to believe what just happened. Pretty soon the crowds had shifted around enough that there were different people now. The whispers began again, and she started to move toward her manor again. Even though the whispers were still just as horrible, they were now referring to her as a woman, using female pronouns as she had demanded.

She was feeling a bit overwhelmed now, in addition to being angry, and so she continued down the road to her house on the hill. As she stormed up the cobble path leading to her front door, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. When she had finally reached her destination, she slammed the door shut behind her and leaned on it, breathing deeply and trying to calm her temper. She made a mistake; the outburst would only make matters worse for her in the town now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rapping on her door.

She practically jumped away from it and stared. In the two years since her parents’ deaths, only three people had ever knocked on her door, and two of them had done so by mistake, thinking they were at the governor’s house.

Another series of knocks on the door echoed through the silent foyer.

Her anger was returning, it must have been someone from the village. She threw open the door. “Look, I don’t bother any of you people, so can you please just return the courtesy!?” She yelled. It was only after she had finished her request that she realized nobody was there.

“Down here!” A cheery voice sounded from below.

Cassia lowered her gaze and found herself face-to-face with what she at first believed to be a child. The person’s frame was certainly small, only standing about three and a half feet from the ground, but it had the proportions and appearance of a fully-grown adult woman including breasts with a distinctly visible cleavage line. She was dressed in royal blue robes with silver lining and silver embroidery at the edges. She had a hooded cape over her shoulders and head, which had similar patterning but was a slightly darker shade of blue. A mass of curly ginger hair flooded from the hood around her face, and her bright green eyes twinkled as they looked at her.

“Oh.” Cassia stared dumbfounded. She must have been looking at a halfling woman, she even had bare feet, a tradition of halflings.

“I know what you’re thinking, yep I’m a halfling. And to answer your next potential question, nope I’m not from the village, and my name is Lina Goodberry, professor of Evocation and Conjuration at the Indigo Quill Academy of Sorcery. Nice you meet you!” The halfling woman thrust her tiny hand up to shake hands with Cassia, who did so very hesitantly.

“Um, likewise. I’m—”

“Cassia Des’Cantier!” Lina finished for her. Cassia was frankly shocked that she had used that name and not Caspen like she was used to other people doing. “May I come in?” She asked, the halfling’s freckled cheeks bulging as she gave a big, toothy grin.

“Um, sure.” Cassia said, still in a state of shock.

Suddenly, the halfling vanished into a strange mist with a pop. Cassia was about to panic like she had lost her mind, but then heard the halfling’s high-pitched and energetic voice behind her.

“Wow! This place is huge!” Cassia whirled around to see Lina spinning in place in the center of the foyer. There was another pop and the short woman was now near one of the walls on her tiptoes running a finger on a vase perched on one of the pedestals. “Mighty dusty, though.” A distinctly darker line appeared where her finger touched, betraying just how dirty the surrounding surface was.

“So,” Cassia began after Lina popped between a few other decorations, “you’re a sorcerer then?”

The halfling popped in front of her to address her. “Aye! What gave it away?” She giggled.

Cassia had read about sorcerers, though there wasn’t much about them in her library. The few books she had on the subject were mostly about their various exploits, and collections of essays about why they should be feared. There wasn’t anything frightful about Lina, however. Her library contained nothing about how magic worked or what exactly sorcerers could do.

Cassia had dozens of questions burning in her mind about magic, but there was one question that seemed the most important to her. “What’s a sorceress doing in my house?” She asked.

Lina’s face betrayed a look of shock, her mouth turning into a small circle. “Oh! I haven’t told you yet, have I? Sorry, just got excited is all!” She reached into her hood and scratched the back of her head bashfully. “Well, if you weren’t aware, the kingdom of Faulka has outlawed the use of magic by anyone who isn’t a graduate of one of its magic academies.”

Cassia had heard this, but was struggling to imagine why it was relevant to why a halfling sorcerer was teleporting around her foyer. Instead of bringing this up, she assumed Lina would get to the point eventually and decided to just keep quiet.

“Well, you aren’t a graduate, and that was one hell of a spell you just cast.”

Cassia blinked. “Pardon?”

“In the street. You yelled and everyone just listened.”

“That was a spell? I-I didn’t mean to!” Cassia panicked and stuttered these words out.

Lina lifted a hand in the air to try and calm her. “There’s no need to worry, it didn’t hurt nobody, and it was a first offense. But I imagine that within a few fays there will be inquisitors crawling all over this town looking for you.”

“Inquisitors?”

“Anti-magic enforcers, they make sure there aren’t any stray sorcerers who aren’t accounted for. But no need to worry! That’s why I’m here. The divination professor at the Indigo Quill told our headmistress that you cast the spell as soon as you did. She had me warp here and chat with you.” Lina beamed at Cassia at the mention of herself.

Cassia’s head was spinning, this was a lot to take in. “Wait, so when the inquisitors find me what will they do?” She asked desperately.

“Well, if they get a hold of you they will process you at the capital, and send you to whatever academy they want. And let me tell you, you don’t want that. Most of the academies that the queen has set up are more like prisons than schools.” Panic was rising again in Cassia, and Lina seemed to notice this. “But that’s why I’m here. I said most were like that, but the Indigo Quill has been around longer than even the kingdom of Faulka! Our headmistress runs the school much better, but the inquisitors don’t like our academy, so the odds of you ending up there if the inquisitors catch you is pretty slim.

“That’s where I come in.” Her tone became distinctly more official. “After review of the magical prowess you have displayed, headmistress Valaryn would like to extend to you, Cassia Des’Cantier, her formal invitation to attend the Indigo Quill Academy for Sorcery effective immediately!”

Cassia stared dumbfounded at the halfling.

“You see,” Lina began after clearing her throat, “if our headmistress invites you to her school you don’t have to take the chance with the inquisitors.”

Cassia had actually understood that, she was stunned, however, because she was not used to anyone extending kindness to her under any circumstances.

“Do you accept?” Lina asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Cassia looked around at the dusty foyer of her parents’ home that she inherited. She tried desperately to scan her mental library for even a single good memory in this place. When she could not find a single one she said. “Yes.”

“Great!” Lina said jumping up into the air with joy in almost a childlike way. “Anything you need to pack?”

Cassia thought about all of the clothes, belonging to her mother. They didn’t fit her properly, and they were fairly ugly anyway. She thought about all the books in the library, she’d already read all the ones she cared about. She thought about her own room. The only thing that was in there was all the reminders of how insistent her parents had been that she be a boy.

“I don’t think so.” She said finally.

“Oh, even better! Take my hand then.” She once again extended her tiny arm for Cassia to take, and she did so slightly hesitantly.

Cassia suddenly felt like she had done a forward and backward somersault, as well as a cartwheel in both directions, all at the same time, and suddenly she was standing on a grassy hill with Lina, a single, ancient oak tree alongside them. She looked off into the distance and audibly gasped as she saw a gigantic grey castle surrounded by an oak forest. The golden light from a setting sun shining between two tall towers behind it. It looked like a painting.

“Welcome,” Lina began, “to the Indigo Quill Academy of Sorcery.”