Lena stood before the mirror, eyeing her reflection with a mixture of skepticism and excitement. Her fingers traced the edges of the new, sleek manual she’d just bought. The cover had a shimmering holographic design of a butterfly morphing into a wolf, and the title glowed: Shapeshifting 101.
So, this is it, she thought, flipping it open to Chapter One: Basics of Transformation.
The first few pages were deceptively simple. “Step 1: Focus on your core identity. Step 2: Visualize the form you wish to take. Step 3: Relax and let the change begin.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” she muttered to herself.
Taking a deep breath, Lena closed her eyes and pictured herself as a hawk. She imagined the rush of wind beneath her wings, the sharpness of her talons, the freedom of the sky. When she opened her eyes again, her body felt… different.
The mirror, though, still reflected the same awkward, human Lena. No wings, no talons. Just a girl with a faint look of confusion on her face.
She frowned. “Okay. Let’s try this again.”
This time, she concentrated on a fox. Swift. Agile. Clever. The image filled her mind, her body humming with anticipation. She waited. Waited for her skin to turn sleek and orange, for her legs to shorten, for that graceful, bounding energy to take over.
Nothing.
A tap at the door broke her concentration. “Lena?” called her roommate, Maya. “Did you remember to bring in the laundry?”
Lena snapped back to reality. “Uh… yeah, I’m—uh, I’m doing something.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Maya said, peeking through the door. She looked at the manual, raising an eyebrow. “Shapeshifting, huh? You know, I tried that once. Turns out, I’m pretty good at turning into a pile of laundry.”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Very funny. It’s harder than it looks.”
Maya shrugged, grinning. “Well, good luck with it. Just don’t, like, turn into a werewolf or something. We have enough trouble keeping the pizza delivery guys from freaking out.”
The door clicked shut, and Lena exhaled, refocusing. She stared at her reflection again, trying to clear her mind.
One more try.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she thought of a simple form: a cat. A small, soft creature, lithe and stealthy. She imagined its eyes narrowing, its fur sleek and clean.
The change was gradual this time. Her muscles tingled, her bones stretched, and when she opened her eyes again, she was staring at the reflection of a cat—small, orange, and very real.
Lena blinked, tail flicking in surprise.
Okay. This was progress. But the real test, she thought with a wry grin, was going to be the bathroom mirror. Her cat-self padded toward it, sniffing the air, and leapt onto the sink counter.
There, she met with the stunned gaze of Maya.
The two stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Maya blinked.
“Well,” she said, half-laughing, “this explains the sudden need for a litter box.”
Lena, now entirely in cat form, flicked her tail in irritation. Maybe shapeshifting wasn’t as easy as the manual made it seem—but at least she could finally prove she wasn’t all talk.
Besides, it had to be better than laundry.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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