Vision looked at herself in the mirror as she let the cloak fall around her ankles. A stranger’s face stared back. She was thin. Growing up with Celia, she had never had the opportunity to grow fat; but the body that she wore now had missed meals. Her ribs pressed against her flesh. She was used to having curves, hips and breasts that made her feel desirable. Apart from long hair and the lack of certain… apparatus… there was nothing in the body she saw now to indicate that she was female at all. She was ugly. It surprised her how much that stung. Being beautiful had never been of benefit to her, in the life that she had chosen.

“Mistress?” the servant asked, “Are you ready to dress?”

She nodded, wincing at the face she saw reflected. Her face was so pale, and her eyes were gaunt. It was hard not to think about how recently this body had been an empty corpse. She moved gingerly as the servant girl helped her dress. It wasn’t that this body didn’t work, she decided, it was that her mind wasn’t used to its dimensions. She was taller than she was used to, and longer limbed. By the time she was dressed, coordination was coming more easily to her. She looked down at the black robes she wore and then arched a brow at the girl.

“Rook gave you these for me to wear?”

The servant bowed her head.

“Mage Alaton did, yes mistress.”

Vision looked at herself a long moment more, then tore her gaze away.

“What is he like?”

The servant kept her head bowed, “Forgive me mistress, he only hired me recently, to help care for you.”

Vision took a tentative step forward. Then, confident that her new legs would carry her, she started forward. The servant hurried after her.

“Mistress, where are you going?”

Vision ignored her. She strode through the house, winding through corridors and up a flight of stairs, until she reached a large study. Rook, wearing robes that matched hers, was bent over a desk, facing away from her. She’d known he would be here, somehow. A small shiver ran through her at the thought but she filed it away for later and focused on what was before her. Rook spoke without turning.

“Hello, Tynan.”

“Is this a joke?” she snapped, gesturing to her robes, “Dressing me like my mother when I look like this?”

Rook turned to look at her. He was smiling but the expression was very sharp. He waved a hand dismissively.

“Selene, you can leave.”

“Thank you, Mage,” the servant said from behind Vision, before she hurried away.

He turned his full attention on Vision and she felt her spine straighten defiantly.

“Is it a joke?” he said quietly, “I think it is a joke that I have saved you and your first action is to criticise your new wardrobe.”

She balled her fists and he rolled his shoulders.

“You might have noticed, as you rampaged through my house, that there are no women here, apart from Selene, who is a recent acquisition. I do not have a great supply of women’s clothing that I am withholding from you, so no, it is not a joke. We can purchase something more to your tastes soon.”

“Why am I here?” she demanded, “The truth.”

“Why are any of us here?” he drawled, “It is what the Ether has determined.”

He pulled the chair from behind his desk and turned it towards her before sitting. Lounging, really. Before she could think better of it, she crossed the room and slapped him across the face. There was an icy intensity in his eyes as he turned his head back to her, but he only rubbed the side of his face in response.

“I have questions,” she said, “And you will answer them.”