My head feels blurry… Ugh. There's a dull headache pressing from the inside, not sharp, but enough to make me squint.
I bring my hand to my forehead, covering the space just above my brows with my palm. The throbbing slowly starts to ease. The blurriness fades bit by bit, and my thoughts begin to settle. It's like my brain was booting up, sluggish at first but gradually regaining function.
Once I feel clearer, I lower my hand and open my eyes slowly. My eyelids feel heavy. I blink a few times—quick, shallow blinks to shake off the leftover fog. With each blink, things come into sharper focus. The light. The air. The sense of space around me.
In front of me, the Dark Acolyte and my mother are standing still, facing me. Both of them have the same uncertain look on their faces. They glance at each other, then back at me. Their expressions are tight—like they're trying to figure out if something went wrong.
Are they mumbling? Their lips are moving, but the words don't quite land. My hearing's still off. There's a soft ringing in my ears, but it's fading quickly. Within a few seconds, sound returns to normal.
I notice the Dark Acolyte's stance first—he's holding his staff with both hands, angled slightly forward. Not aggressive, but alert. Like he's ready for something. My mother looks more unsettled than defensive. Her eyes are focused on me, and her pupil has narrowed into a slit—sharp and thin.
Our eyes are almost entirely black, but there's a distinct reflective ring just around the pupil—faint, but noticeable. That ring follows the shape of the pupil, and our pupil shape changes depending on our state: it can become a slit, an oval, or a full round. It's similar to how some predators, especially felines, adjust to light or emotion.
Seeing her pupil in a slit shape makes me pause. That usually means something's wrong. Either she's uneasy… or on edge.
I stay quiet for a second, just listening to my own body. Everything feels… slightly off. My balance, the way I'm breathing, even how my skin feels against the clothes I'm wearing. It's not painful or overwhelming—just different.
Probably a side effect from the spell. Nothing serious.
I glance down at myself. My frame feels lighter. The way my clothes hang is slightly different, and my hair… yeah, it feels a bit heavier, brushing further down than usual. Might've gotten a little longer.
I didn't overthink it at the time. The spell was meant to help me disguise myself, and it clearly did something.
"Mother? Why are you both looking at me like that?"
She straightens up immediately. Her shoulders pull back, and her chin lifts slightly. Her pupils shift fast—first widening into full circles as her eyes open in surprise, then settling into a calm oval. Her expression is unreadable for a split second. Then she raises one hand to her mouth, fingers curled in slightly.
"Ehem." She clears her throat quietly.
"Look like what?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Ehhh… you both seem kinda uneasy?"
I exhale through my nose. "Ugh, I feel like I was unconscious for what, a minute? Didn't expect the spell to take that long. And—ugh—it made my head feel weird."
I press my palm back to my forehead again, this time rubbing a little at my temple. My eyes drop to the floor. I'm still gathering myself.
The Acolyte and my mother exchange glances again. No one says anything, but the way they look at each other—it's not just confusion. It's something more. Something like surprise. Maybe even disbelief.
I lower my hand and let my hair fall naturally as I glance over my appearance again. I pull back the sleeve covering my arm and check my wrist and forearm.
My skin feels smoother—like the texture's been softened slightly. Not unfamiliar, just noticeably different. My forearm looks leaner. Not as bulky as before. The muscles are quite way less defined, but the veins are still visible, however the size has clearly dropped. More compact. Still feeling strong.
"Wow! It really worked! Good job, Acolyte— Uh! Wait, I just noticed… my voice sounds a bit different too! I thought it would only change my appearance, not my voice, but hey, I ain't complaining!"
I turn toward my mother with a grin, curious.
"How do I sound, Mom?"
She pauses. Her pupils, which were slightly slit before, slowly shift to a more rounded shape as she raises her brows. A tiny bead of sweat forms near her temple. She seems hesitant, like she's trying to find the right words without sounding too blunt.
"Uh— Oh, um… To me, you sound like… a cute but softly mature girl-woman voice. But there's still a hint of that deep chest resonance, like a boy or even a man. It's kind of a mix between the two, but yeah… I'd say it's cute and deep?"
"Ohhh, I see..." I smile at her response, satisfied.
I lean slightly to the side, pressing my palms together and rubbing them slowly with a mischievous grin.
Hehe… bro is gonna totally fall for it. Wait—hold up…
I glance back at them—both my mother and the Acolyte are still staring at me, visibly a little stunned, like they're still processing the full effect of the spell.
"Mom, I think I need to change clothes real quick."
She looks at me, puzzled. "Uh? Change? Why—?"
I frown slightly, shifting where I stand. Something feels off.
"I feel too tight… Like, it's kind of hard to breathe. And my pants feel tight too—around the hips or something."
There's a weird tingling sensation. Not exactly pain, but like something's being pinched or pressed—like nerves aren't flowing properly.
My mother's expression shifts to mild concern as she steps toward me. She glances at the Acolyte and gives him a firm instruction.
"Read the description of the spell, Acolyte. Update me later, okay?"
The Acolyte gives a small nod and immediately unrolls the scroll again, eyes scanning the runes and notes.
As my mother leads me down the hallway toward the clothing room, I'm still adjusting my clothes—tugging at seams, pulling the collar, shifting the waistband. Everything just feels slightly out of place.
But then, as I reach down to adjust my pants—
My eyes widen in an instant.
"Wait—woah! Woah! Woah!"
My mother stops mid-step and looks back quickly, her pupils narrowing into slits. Then, seeing my face, her eyes widen and her pupils round out again.
"Dear?? What? What happened?"
I look at her, genuinely stunned, both hands instinctively covering myself—one over my chest and one just below the belt.
"Mom! This spell is craaaazy!"
My expression is full-on shock now—eyes wide, brows raised, mouth slightly open.
"The disguise feels so real! I can feel some sort of bump on my chest, and… it looks like there's nothing down there!"
She blinks quickly, once, then twice, clearly taken aback.
"What?! You mean—?"
"Yes! I literally look like a genuine, 100% girl right neow! Crazy!"
She exhales in disbelief and lets out a small, amused laugh.
"Well, looks like I'll have to teach you how to live like a girl now, huh?" she teases lightly.
I scoff and turn my face away, lifting my chin a bit with exaggerated confidence. My eyes close for dramatic effect as I cross my arms across my chest.
"Nah, I study biology, Mom. I know how the body works, so yeah—maybe I'll pick it up, but barely. Barely. HE HE HE."
I loosen my arms and look forward again as we walk. My mood is light, but the discomfort's still there.
"But seriously, I still feel tight. These clothes just don't fit me now. I've never liked tight outfits. They're uncomfortable—even before all this."
My mother doesn't respond—just listens as I yap, her footsteps steady beside mine. We finally reach the clothing room.
But I'll admit—one thing I've never liked is tight clothing or anything too revealing. And by "revealing," I mean anything beyond my arms. The most I'd ever wear is something that shows a bit of collarbone and calves—that's it. Loose-fit and covered clothing just makes me feel more at ease. Especially when sleeping—it helps prevent that random itchy feeling on my skin.
Though sometimes, it gets way too hot at night, so I crank the fan up to max. But then in the morning… it's freezing. Like, borderline-shivering cold. Not a fun way to wake up.
As I'm lost in thought, talking a little too much inside my own head, I hear my mom call from inside the dressing room. I'm sitting on a chair, waiting for her to finish checking something.
She steps out holding a dress. It's light-colored with a soft nature-themed design, kinda elegant-looking—honestly, really well-designed. But it's definitely a woman's outfit. If not for this prank, there's no way I'd ever wear something like that.
"I picked this for you," she says, holding it up proudly. "I think it suits you. Any boy—or man—who doesn't know who you really are would definitely fall for your elegance and beauty."
I raise an eyebrow, eyes shifting side to side before my pupils narrow into slits.
"Thanks, Mom, but… I'm gonna be honest. The way you said that just feels weird. Not gonna lie."
I relax my face as I take the dress into my arms. My pupils slowly dilate again. The fabric feels smooth, and the design… well, it's actually modest and fully covering. Pretty much exactly the kind of style I prefer. Wait—no—I mean, the kind of style my character prefers. Yeah.
"Heh… This is perfect," I mutter to myself without thinking.
Mom chuckles. "You'll have to ignore that awkward, out-of-place feeling when you're playing out the prank. Otherwise, people will catch on too fast."
Then, with a little smirk, she adds, "But don't ignore it too much, or worse—"
"Huh?" I cut in, confused.
"You might fall in love with another boy, ahaha~"
I freeze. Just stare at her blankly for a second, holding the dress against my chest. She's giggling at her own joke.
A built-in defense system kicks in.
"Nuh uh, Mom. First of all—and this is important—there's no way I'm falling for another boy. You know that."
I start pacing slowly back and forth, one hand up as I count off each point like I'm giving a formal speech.
"Second, I'm not the kind of person who falls in love easily. It's already rare for me to even like someone, let alone fall for anything more. That's why I'm looking for someone real. Someone who's gonna stay for life, you know? And give them the most authentic, untouched version of myself."
Still pacing. Still serious.
"And lastly, I don't fall for people based on appearances. As long as they're healthy and match my type, that's all I care about. I've said this before—I'm not like those degenerates, Mom. Not me, and not the Youngest Heir either. We don't fall for lust."
My mom just stares at me quietly, half-smiling. Probably thinking something like, "He's rambling again… but wow, he really does look cute."
"We value connection and emotional bonding first," I finish confidently. "So—in conclusion—I wouldn't—"
"Mom?" I blink. My train of thought stops.
She's already a few meters away in front of a tall mirror, waving her hand to call me over.
I walk up beside her as she opens the closet doors. Behind them is the True Mirror—a rare kind. The one that shows you the way others see you. I've always wanted to know what I'd look like through that lens.
Her hand grips the handle. The door creaks as she slowly opens it. For a moment, the soft sunlight from the window catches the glass just right, making it hard to see. But then it settles.
And there—my reflection.
My eyes widen. Pupils fully round and dilated. I can't speak at first.
"Woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…"
"Hey hey, how long are you going to stare?" my mother teases.
I blink and snap back, swallowing the initial shock. In front of me… is me. But not the usual me…..