Birth of a Prince

“Are you certain? Once it is done, it cannot be undone.” The ancient Oak questioned, its words whispering across his mind with the rustling of its waxy leaves. Flix looked at the silver dirham held in his hand, turning it over in his palm as he considered the question. 

He could hear the drum of the centaur hooves several miles away as they searched for him. Their calls echoed off the surrounding mountains, the sound amplified by the valley, and he glanced over his shoulder as the anxiety turned every shadow into a threat. It had taken nearly the entire night to reach the grove and though he couldn’t see the brightening of the sky above through the thick forest of branches, he could feel the dawn approaching. They were less than an hour away and he only had a few minutes to make his decision if he had any hope of escaping once it was done. It was now or never. He looked at the coin again, the light of the fireflies dancing in the air overhead glinted off its foreign but familiar surface. It was the key, but once he opened the door, there would be no returning home and he found himself questioning his resolve as the grief of what he was about to lose washed over him.

“Morganite,” Flix’s mother called, the name like a knife against china and he closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax, “stop fidgeting.” 

“I don’t understand why this is necessary…”

“Yes, you do,” she said in a long sigh, her attention on the hem of the dress she was having fitted for him. He kept his gaze focused on her reflection in the mirror so as to avoid having to stare at his own. The nearly translucent morganite colored material clung to every curve, highlighting his body’s naturally feminine features just as she had intended, causing his skin to crawl; the pink gossamer material felt like fire. His mother moved out of view as she continued to talk, trapping his gaze on his reflection.

“I don’t understand why you need to make this so difficult.” She argued and he gritted his teeth as he retorted.

“Because it isn’t right.” 

“We’ve had this conversation before and I am not having it again.” He winced as her voice cracked with power despite it’s calm tone and caused the seamstress to stab his ankle, her hands beginning to tremble. The tension in the room was palpable as they stared at each other in the mirror, Flix’s jaw growing tighter as Daethie’s eyes narrowed further. The familiar argument was old but a fresh bitterness was there to add to it each time it was brought up, fueling it further.

“Please excuse us for a moment Sarine.” She politely ordered the servant and, tripping over herself in her haste, she scrambled to her feet and scurried from the room leaving the queen alone with her daughter. 

“Mom…” Flix clenched his jaw at the look on her face, her black eyes narrowed in barely restrained frustration. She approached him from behind, looking at him in the mirror as she carefully adjusted a long curl that fell down from the mound of hair atop his head and over his shoulders.

“Morgan, I know this is difficult for you,” she said, her voice gentle as she continued to adjust the dress and his hair, “but it’s your duty. You need to do this.”

“It’s not fair…” 

“I know it isn’t fair, but you’re not like everyone else. You’re special. You don’t have the same privileges, you have responsibilities to this family and to this kingdom.”

“Right,” his lip curled in disgust, “to reproduce. That’s all I am to you, an incubator.”

“How can you even say that?” Horrified, she turned him around and when he wouldn’t meet her eyes, she grabbed his chin and forced him to. “You’re my daughter. I love you. We all have a place in this world, and this is yours. You’re lucky to know what that is. Most people spend all their lives trying to figure it out.” He pulled himself free and, grabbing the dress about his legs in handfuls, he stepped off the wooden box and away from the mirror and her.

“Daughter…” He shook his head in frustration. It wasn’t right, the other Fae were allowed to change their form, and yet he was trapped in an archaic system that refused to even consider alternative solutions to their depleting power.

“Yes, my daughter.” She snapped, her frustration getting the best of her, “I get it! You’re unhappy right now but you’ll see, it’ll be worth it once you have your own children.” She reached out, attempting to grab his hand but when he recoiled, her face hardened and she let her hand fall. “Don’t be so selfish, this entire kingdom depends on us and our line. If it ends, the land dies and all our people, all your people, will die with it. So as your mother and queen, I am ordering you to quit sulking and suck it up!” She shouted and, turning on her heel, she strode from the room. He heard her bark at the seamstress to get back to work and reluctantly, his feet dragging, he went back to stand in front of the mirror again.

It was his birthday the following day and the party being held in his honor was where he would meet his betrothed. Raine Daermhagh was the son of the Earthen Clan chief Coill Daermhagh and Morganite had been betrothed to him since her hundredth birthday. Except Flix had no interest in being a princess. It wasn’t like it was uncommon for an elf to change their sex, but it was something only the common elves could do because it left them sterile. The Highborne had duties and producing heirs was the ugly truth of a princess’ purpose. It didn’t matter if that princess would rather set herself on fire than spend another day inside her flesh prison, it was her duty to her kind. Ten thousand years ago tomorrow, Flix had been born to Kyrenic and Daethie, the royal house of Súilleabháin, the first born and a daughter. If the queen failed to produce a son first, as Daethie had done with Flix, as per Fae law the crown could only pass to a mated matriarch and she could rule only until she produced a male heir. Flix’s brother, Faern, had been born four centuries later and he would be crowned king on his ten thousandth birth year. No longer having any chance at the throne, Flix was expected to produce a minimum of three potential heirs should Faern be unable to sire children or some ill fate should claim them, as it had claimed their father, there would still be royal blood to take the throne. 

Flix stared at himself in the mirror, the gauzy material was exquisite and he felt practically naked, its smooth fabric more like water than cloth. The seamstress who was making it was from the Water Clan, her magic stemming from the life giving energies of the water element and she had woven her magic through the pink fabric so that it slipped across his skin easier than silk. He knew everyone considered him beautiful. His female body was the ideal by elven standards: tall and slender with lean muscles that remained hidden beneath supple creamy skin that was unmarred by scars. His hair was a rich brown with highlights of amber and honey and it hung in long, thick spiraling curls like loosely winding vines. His ears, unlike the long, slender ears of the male elves, were shorter, their pointed tips only reaching the crown of his head and he self consciously tried to frame his hair around them to make them look longer. His cheeks flushed with shame as he scrutinized his dreadful reflection. The physical distinctions between the elven sexes were subtle. The ear length was the main difference but the men also tended to be slightly broader in the shoulders, their hair straighter and faces slightly longer but no difference was too subtle for him to spend hours agonizing over. Their hands were a little bigger, their fingers longer and Flix studied what he considered his childlike hands as the seamstress finished hemming the dress and stepped back.

“You are magnificent,” she said looking at him, her eyes glinting with pride and he forced a smile, thanking her before dismissing her. 

Alone, he sat down in front of the mirror and stared at himself, trying to imagine what he might look like if he were allowed to do the spell. It was an ancient ritual of transformation that would alter an elf’s physical body into the opposite sex but it could only be done once. There was a grove of sacred trees in the valley just south of their towering city and the trees contained the remnants of the oldest Fae magics. Once in ancient times, when the Fae were powerful, they could shift and change their form however they saw fit but their power had been stolen from them by the human invaders, and over the years, it had waned until they had been driven into hiding. Now, it was a dangerous ritual and ultimately, it was up to the Spirits to decide whether or not they would lend their power to aid the seeker. 

The Ancestors that had been buried in the grove and whose magic had entwined with the trees could technically turn the person away, but as long as they made the required sacrifice, it was usually successful. There was a time after the wars when such a ritual had been forbidden, punishable by death, but over the centuries as the Fae grew in numbers once more, many of the old laws had been changed. Now, any commoner could undergo the ritual, assuming they could survive the transformation, but royalty was still forbidden. Their numbers were still too few, the Highborne elves had been nearly exterminated during the Great War between the human and Fae and now it was considered treason. Flix could still remember telling his mom how he felt so long ago. Unlike dwarves and gnomes, the elven lifespan extended several hundred thousand years and it took them a few thousand years to reach puberty but by three thousand, Flix already knew he wanted to go through with the transformation and he’d tried to talk to his mom about it. She spent the entire day lecturing him on his duty as a princess and at the end of it, she had promised him that if he went through with the transformation, she herself would hunt him down and execute him for treason. Terrified, he’d stopped talking about it until his tutor, Aylen had told him the truth about himself. He hadn’t transformed, but he had his own secret that was forbidden and he’d helped him find ways to survive within his own skin. Over the years, Flix had stopped thinking of himself as a “she” and he’d adopted the “nickname” Flix. He’d tried to adjust to being a princess as best as he could, but as he sat staring at himself in the mirror, he knew he couldn’t do what was being expected of him. 

It wasn’t just that he would have to spend the rest of his life mated to a man he’d never met, that he could almost live with, but he would have to give birth. Not just once, but a minimum of three times and that was simply not an option. He shuddered involuntarily, a cold chill making him wrap his arms tighter around himself, loathing the feel of his breasts against his arms as he did. 

No. He couldn’t do it. Getting to his feet, he cast a nervous glance at the door before reaching under his bed to grab the small wooden box hidden beneath the floorboard. He opened it and took out the silver coin that Aylen had given to him before he’d been banished for heresy. It was a key that would open a one way portal to the human realm and now, it was time he used it. He couldn’t keep pretending anymore. He didn’t want to die, but he knew that he would be condemned to a living death if he didn’t do the ritual. He would have to leave the Fae realm forever, his own mother would have him beheaded if she ever saw him again, but as he undid the straps holding up the dress and allowed it to fall to the floor, he knew he had no other option. The human realm was dangerous, Aylen had warned him. Flix’s chest constricted as he remembered his tutor, his hushed voice hurriedly teaching him an illusion spell that would hide his elven features once in the human world. He went through it in his head again, making sure he remembered every part of it. He was terrified to leave, humans were monsters that hunted the Fae for sport, their hounds tearing their bodies apart like their vulpine kin, but he knew he had to do it because even that was better than what remained for him if he stayed. He got dressed in his day-dress and hung the new dress by the mirror before returning the coin to the little box. Carefully, he stored it back under the floorboard, his hand feeling for the rough fabric of the rucksack that contained some of his brother’s clothes and provisions. Tonight when everyone had retired for the night, he would escape. Leaving his bedroom, he let out a trembling sigh. He would leave this realm forever and he would search for Aylen in the human world, but he would do it as a free man. 

Flix turned the coin over with his fingers and with a sharp nod, he tucked it into his pocket and looked up at the ancient Oak.

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

The Oak’s branches creaked, the trunk groaning as the bark split and cracked open, “then enter, little Prince, and be born.”