Previously
Willow got up, unable to go to bed, as he walked over to a mirror stand and sat upon a wooden stool. He smiled as he saw his own reflection, reminding him of how unmanly he looked, how unmanly Willow looked and understood that the mirror that had appeared so big when he was young looked so small now. Their room had a little open window situated high on the wall, giving way for the moon's silvery light to pass through so they had no need to buy night lamps even though Willow really wanted one. He grabbed his old-time brush and gently straighten the curls in his long, scarlet red hair - a habit that never failed to calm him down.
Thoughts of the Awakening, or any big events that would happen in the future slipped out from his mind with every stroke his brush gave his hair. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the moonlit gaze on his body, humming a childhood song from his previous world.
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This never failed to calm his nerves. Or so would be the case if it weren't for his annoying, little sister who just had to ruin his moment.
Willow yelped, holding his cheek. "What are you doing?!"
Elm switched her attention between the finger that poked at his cheeks and his amusing expression. "They're pretty soft." Willow sighed. Lashing out at this expressionless girl would do nothing for his temper. "And here I was relaxing pretty well."
She tilted her head. "Were you thinking about something serious?"
". .No, why?" Willow looked away.
"You're lying. Your eyes always swim around when you lie." Elm quickly found the truth.
Willow relented. "Fine. I was just thinking about the [Awakening] tomorrow."
"Is there something wrong?" Elm asked.
"No, no. It's just -" Willow turned to look into Elm's eyes, seeing them to be so full of innocence. He cursed inwardly as he knew that innocence would be no longer after tomorrow and he would be a prime indicator towards it. For now, he could only give her a warning. "I'm just worried that something might happen tomorrow. It's such a big event, a big opportunity for the world to cast stones when we're at our highest. I'd be devastated if something bad were to happen to you or to Mom and Dad."
". . . ."
"Forget it. Let's go to sleep." Willow shook his head as he stood up, preparing to go to bed.
"Wait." Elm stopped him, holding onto his wrist as she pulled him back into his seat. She ignored his surprise before she grabbed his brush. "You missed a spot." She helped brush his head and was surprisingly even better skilled and gentle than he was with his own hair.
Willow thought about the last thing this happened. It was when they were both nothing but children and the roles were reversed, with him brushing his little sister's hair as she stared dead-eyed at the mirror. Oh, how she'd grown. But growing past her older brother in height was something he would never be able to forgive of course.
Willow re-adjusted in his seat, leaning slightly back. "I was just thinking about what you were like when you were little. Tiny and attached, you couldn't walk to the bathroom without me escorting you there." Elm groaned which made Willow smirk like a cat.
"Oh? Are you embarrassed?" Willow teased. "If only I could go back to the past again. Where did the adorable little sister who followed me everywhere go?"
"I'm really beginning to miss - Ouch." Willow yelped. He held his hair and looked back at his younger sister who had that same impassive look on her face. "Did you just -"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She concluded the argument.
He furrowed his eyebrows at her but got her message. No poking fun at her too much.
Willow offered to brush her hair soon after and so they sat, with Willow sitting behind her yet still appeared smaller than his little sister. He had to grab a larger stool to sit just to put his head above her, feeling slightly embarrassed at how he looked like a child.
"Did you manage to get your hair longer again?" Willow asked, seeing that it had grown to shoulder length. He wouldn't have known as Elm liked to keep her hair in a pony-tail, saying that it was a bother for it to wave and fly about in a fight.
Elm nodded. "Mother told me to."
"And why would she - ah, nevermind." Willow stopped. "I think I like your hair longer this way."
"Really?" Elm asked, looking back.
"Really. It suits you better," Willow said.
"Mm. I'll keep it this way then," Elm turned her attention back to the mirror, only this time, she had a faint blush on her cheeks.
The room soon fell silent. The two siblings enjoyed the brief moment of relaxation, each one knowing the burden they'd be forced to carry by the gods .One dealt with the burden of knowing that he would have to leave his little sister behind when the incident happened tomorrow lest he wanted to drastically send the known future into the unknown.
The other dealt with a hint provided by her gift of wisdom - telling her that the world as she knew it would plunge into anarchy tomorrow and something very dear to her would be stolen.
And so just for tonight, the both of them acted like nothing was going to happen and that everything would be fine - Willow brushing his sister's hair just like he always did for her since they were little. Only this time, he steeled his heart, knowing that this would be his last. May the Gods be with him tomorrow.
* * * * * *
Willow woke up early tomorrow.
He took one last look around my room. It was everything you'd expect an ordinary room to look like, only a lot more medieval and wooden-tiled. It was wide and spacious, with the usual scribbled drawings on the walls. Seeing that his sister's bed was empty, he stretched and yawned before walking into the bathroom.
He would miss the sight.
Their bathroom had been a luxury that had only been available for a certain amount of people in this small town even though it was simply a small room with a crudely made bathtub and a rinser with a shelf of hygiene-related products above it. The world may be medieval but at least it wasn't that medieval.
He grabbed a toothbrush -- nothing too special -- before applying a blue toothpaste-like gel crafted from slimes or so he was told by his father. It did freak him out that he was essentially brushing his teeth with the dead 'skin' of a monster but after remembering how most shampoos were made, he stopped hesitating.
Willow's heart raced. His veins jumped. His stomach did flips. Even as he tried focusing on brushing his teeth, his mind didn't let him forget that today was the day. The day that his life would forever be changed.
The [Awakening].
Something that every child who had matured into a young adult, at the age of 16, would have to undergo, usually accompanied by a clergy of the Humlic Church or an Emblemsman. There was always the choice to do the procedure yourself but the risks far outweigh the benefits. Willow remembered someone attempting the Awakening by herself and ended up losing her entire right arm.
He could already hear the excited murmurs and chattering his parents were having downstairs -- the both of them fussing over his and Elm's ritualistic garb and other minor things that only a parent could bring themselves to care.
Willow patted his face dry before staring at himself in the mirror. What stared back at him was nothing short of a beauty and that was his eternal curse.
"One day. One day, I'm going to find a transformation spell for this," Willow groaned at how unmanly he looked. He would have thanked the heavens if they had played the prank simply on his facial features but noo, they had to extend the prank to his body as well.
His hands trailed down his feminine frame, letting a sigh pass by his lips. He had long given up on any prospects of growing taller nor muscular, especially when his hips were beginning to flare wider than his shoulders. His face seemed to have grown rounder with his waist growing thinner.
Honestly, his body was nothing short of erotic and unrealistic. Don't forget, he was a boy.
Deep breaths Willow, He told himself. His stomach grumbled. He reminded himself that he had been appointed family chef since he couldn't stand the blandness of medieval cooking and had to rush himself downstairs before the family lost their minds over the food.
Oh, perhaps that was what all the groaning and muttering was about. He took a quick bath before stepping downstairs, to which he was met with an assortment of cheers as the family chef was about to do his magic.