I met Síle downstairs after changing to my hiking gear. I settled on the blue tunic I'd bought, plus the cargo hiking pants and boots from Earth. It clashed slightly, but I wanted something practical for a hike.

"Water bottle?" I asked her, going down my normal checklist. "Snacks? Good shoes?"

"Yes, miss," she said, smiling.

"There is that word again," I replied. "Let's go."

We walked along the street that headed toward the south end of town. I had apparently come in from the east side, before.

It was just as well that I didn't know as much Clair as I would've liked, because my sore throat had continued into that day. I felt like I was losing my voice.

Another bridge crossed the river looping around the city. Near the end of the street, it fizzled out into gravel, and then a simple one-track trail, much like the east path that, funny to think, led to our respective homes. Unlike the east path with its steep switchbacks, the south path headed gently upward, gaining elevation slowly as it wandered back and forth.

Every so often, I took a peek behind us, watching Fleuve Clair recede into both the distance and the valley. From up there, the streets were obviously laid out in intersecting diagonals, much like a European city. And there in the middle, those enormous sculpture buildings.

"It's pretty from up here," Síle said to me as we walked, looking back briefly and smiling her sunshine smile.

"It really is," I croaked.

After perhaps four kilometres, we stopped for a rest in a little clearing with nice, flat rocks to sit on. We sipped water and looked back at the town. I nibbled on something I'd brought from the kitchens that, for all the world, looked and tasted like those soft oatmeal bars with fruit jam inside. Quite a lot tastier, though.

"Ready?" she asked, standing. I nodded, and she held out a hand, which I grabbed and pulled myself up. The little jolt that went through me had nothing to do with the magic we'd shared near the start of my visit. Her green eyes smiled along with her grin as we turned and started back up the trail.

She really was cute.

In another two kilometres, we reached our destination. It was another clearing with boulders ideal for sitting on, and leaning back.

"Phew!" she said, wiping her brow with her sleeve.

I took off my bag and set it down next to one of the rocks, next to hers. The view took my breath away.

I held my hand above my eyes. Far in the distance, the mountains rolled away into indistinctness, one incredibly large, snow-covered peak poking up above them. Something I couldn't make out seemed to glint in the sun in one of the mountain valleys. A town?

Nearer to us, the whole city of Fleuve Clair was laid out below. And as always, the pastel aurora twinkled overhead, brighter than I'd ever seen it.

"It's so bright," I said, pointing at the aurora.

Síle smiled warmly at me.

"Teach me to see what you see, what I cannot," she said.

I wasn't sure I understood her properly.

"So many colours," I fumbled through, "little stars spinning around." How was I supposed to say sparkles? I mimed the motion with my fingers, then looked at her. "What do you mean, what you cannot?"

"Until it's dark," she said. "Then I, too, will see. Danna's breath."

I'd learned that phrase not long ago, what they called the aurora above.

"You can't see it now?" I asked, surprised.

"Silly Alyx," she laughed. "Of course not. Your Change goes well, though, to see it so brightly in the day. I am excited for you. It won't be long, now."

What, what? What was I missing in her meaning?

She reached up to cup one side of my face with her hand.

"You are so beautiful," she said. "I'm happy I could meet you."

Something chilly inched its way down my back, inside. I was missing something important here.

"Change? What Change?"

Síle started to laugh, but her face slowly drooped its way through surprise, then concern.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Danna has touched you with her breath. She remakes you into her instrument. Is that not what you want? It is a great honour. You are Fí-Réalta, priestess of Danna, blessed of the mother."

Especially through the shock, I had trouble following everything she said, but it was enough for me to understand that I was in trouble.

"But I..." I started, thinking of the words, giving a little half-laugh, trying to keep my emotions off of my face. "Why did no one ask me? I'm just a visitor. I don't belong here."

"Danna does as Danna does," she said, looking down at the ground, her hands gripping each other tightly.

Fí-Réalta. Priestess. All Fí-Réalta were women.

I had a moment of anger, thinking about what a violation this was over my bodily autonomy. Then a moment of panic, wondering how fast I could get down to town and back over to the Gate, and get back out to Earth, but I dismissed it as the ridiculous idea it was.

A million points of memory were suddenly connected in my mind, things people had said to me, feelings I'd had. All of those people, all the way back to Bastien, had known practically the moment they saw me. And they all just smiled and nodded at me. But why wouldn't they, really? All their lives, everyone they'd met would've known. As I'd learned all too well from reading my copy sources, there was practically no higher honour in Shanaclair.

But I also realized with a certain weight of final truth that what Síle had said was true. There was no doubt about it.

Oh. My. God.

I'm going to become a girl. Maybe already enough of one that my parents can't even recognize me.

I laughed out loud at the absurdity of it, and my voice croaked over into another register. I wasn't getting a cold. My larynx was un-dropping.

On the other hand, I also found that, surprisingly, I was sort of okay with this. Back on Earth, I'd given thought to getting hormone therapy and going for a little partial transition. No one on Earth would ever receive this kind of a transition opportunity.

But was that Danna poking my brain and making me feel okay with it?

I was mostly not okay with the lack of consent. I had a bone to pick with Danna over that.

"Oh Alyx," Síle said, and my attention was drawn back to her horrified face with a tear running down. "If only I'd known. I wanted to be Fí-Réalta so much, I was so happy for you."

I reached over and wiped her tear away.

"Don't be sad," I said, my voice bouncing in and out of a different resonance. "When I get used to it, I'll probably like it." I smiled at her.

"Oh man, I'm fucked," I muttered in English.

"What was that?" she said.

"Nothing," I replied, grabbing her hand. I needed something. Something anchoring me to the world before I blew away in Danna's wind.

She turned my hand over and looked at my arm. I hadn't noticed it before, but what I thought was an ink smudge from scribing had grown. It was a fine, swirling pattern of blacks, cyans, pinks, and other shades. Some parts of it were gently glowing.

"Danna's Touch," Síle whispered.

I laughed, much more heartily than I should have in the circumstances. Goated, I thought. No one in Vancouver is ever gonna have a tattoo like this.

I stood, looking down at the city, which was lighting up with magic lamps and a few fires.

The wave function had collapsed. There was no point in worrying about which world I belonged to. I literally belonged to this one. I also belonged to that one. Wasn't that the story of my life, really? I am Enby Alyx, hear me roar.

And I hadn't had any sort of relationship before, but I also realized that, right that moment, for that moment, my heart belonged to this one. I put an arm around Síle, and she put an arm around me, leaning her head on my arm.

"Is this okay?" she asked in a vulnerable voice. "You are who you are, and I am who I am. Just a farm girl."

I thought for a moment. "The Fí-Réalta says yes," I said in a snooty voice.

She giggled, which warmed my heart again, and I squeezed her shoulders.

"There it is," she said, pointing up at the aurora. It was nearly night. "I can see it now."

A moment of clarity hit me, then. A congruence across time, myself versus myself. A dream from the past, a girl from the future, me in the present.

I turned my arms upward and raised them to the sky, toward the aurora. Opened my hands. Opened my soul.

Something reached out from me, and something reached out from her. We met in the middle like two people grasping each other's forearms. I knew then, Danna was not just mythology. I could feel her love, I could feel her rage. Her terror, her comfort. I felt the lifeblood of the world wrapped around it, the rivers in the sky and the ground mine to command, but also mine to aid. A deep responsibility.

When my attention drew back down and to my arms, the patterns on my wrist were slithering and growing, around both the top and bottom, like an inked torque. Some of the cyan and pink strands glowed faintly, and the aurora above glowed along with them, in the same colours.

I had consented. There was no turning back.

I lowered my arms and wondered if anyone in the town below had noticed anything. I looked over, and Síle's face was wide with wonder.

"My Fí-Réalta," she whispered.

We sat down on one of the rocks, stared out at the beauty of the night town and the aurora, Anáil Danna.

"Those moons are so big," I said.

She pointed to them in turn, saying Isíl, Niamh.

"Isíl the warrior poet," she said, "and Niamh the fairy queen. He followed her into the magical land."

Síle and I held hands and took comfort in each other's warmth. Eventually, it became too chilly, so we stood to go.

"So, after all that, I have no idea how to make a light," I said.

She laughed and made a little globe that hung in the air between us as we walked back down.