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Monthly Drawing 40: Cultural Exchange

STORY and ART NOTE:  As I wrote it, what I'd originally had for image 8 would not work, so,  now I have to re-draw it. THEN you'll get the rest of the story.



Deacon regained consciousness as her hooves touched back down to the floor with the tiniest of clicks. The first thing she felt was the warmth. It seemed to radiate from within her; it comforted her and she knew instinctively that it could comfort those around her. 

Her vision slowly returned and she was surprised by her appearance, but somehow not shocked. In fact it wasn’t even surprise as much as curiosity. 

She looked down at herself saw she was no longer human. Humanoid but, decidedly not human. She was also now female. Abundantly female, in fact. She registered this with a raise of her hairy eyebrows.

It didn’t even feel that strange. It wasn’t normal but, it didn’t feel wrong. Not that it felt right, either, it just felt… proper. She didn’t even think to question this feeling. She didn’t feel disturbed by being who she was now, why should she make things harder on herself. She was, in the most fundamental ways, still Deacon William Trowbridge IV but, there was more to her now. She was who she was but, better.

She raised her right arm, mesmerized by the flames that emanated from her forearm. She watched, turning her hand back and forth, moving her large fingers through the flames. The fact that her arm was on fire did not disturb. her in the least. Of course, her arm was on fire, that was how she projected her inner power.

Power.

She felt it now. There was a power in her. She realized she knew exactly how to use that power and why. She had a mission. 

No, it was more than that.

She had a duty.

Then, beside her came a familiar voice, extremely loud and rich with anger, 

“IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME!”


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Deacon turned her head as she instinctively extinguished the fires on her limbs. The flames immediately faded and turned to red hair. 

She looked down, farther down than she anticipated and saw Xiu. There were tears of rage in her eyes as she screamed at Deacon.

“How could you, Deacon? How could you? It was supposed to be me!” Xiu’s fists were clenched so tightly, Deacon’s new senses could smell the blood on her palms from her nails, “I was supposed to be the one! Me! I was supposed to be the hero! It was supposed to be me.”

The last was delivered with a scowl but, her fists unclenched.

Deacon heard her words, felt them deeply but, he was stunned by her beauty. He’d always found her beautiful but, his new senses showed him more. 

Her pure soul and inner strength lent a glow to her entire being. Her kind heart nearly shone in her chest but, the light came mostly from her eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Deacon said softly. Her voice held a hint of her old human male voice but, was now a rich contralto that made everything she uttered seem almost like song.

“W-what?” Xiu seemed stunned out of her anger, “Deacon, are you-“


“My dearest little one,” Deacon interrupted gently, “I must offer thee my most sincere regrets for having taken from thee what thou most deeply desired. Please be assured that it was not my intent to hurt you so deeply. In returning to this laboratory, I was waylaid by a demon and after making my escape, I sought to find thee and thy grandsire to receive aid but, in my weakness, I slipped upon the stairs and in my tumble, threw thee from yon magic circle.” Deacon paused and looked very concerned at Xiu, “Art thou physically sound? I must have shoved thee quite hard.”

“I’m… I’m fine…” A complex expression of wonderment and incredulousness contorted her face, “Wait. Deacon, when did you learn to speak Archaic? It took years of grandfather’s lessons for me to get it. Even most Chinese can’t!”

“I do not know, little one,” Deacon looked thoughtful, “Perhaps it is innate to this form.”

“It is!” came a voice from beside them. They turned as Xiu’s grandfather joined them. 

Monthly Drawing 40: Cultural Exchange

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