Line of waiters ^

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As the first rays of sunlight peered into Mikyla's eyelids, she could only affirm that that was the best sleep she had ever had. Her mind felt clearer than the azure blue sky outstretching through the window and as she stretches she feels everything as it should be. Normal. If she hadn't known better she would say everything she just dreamed about was a reality. It sure felt like it, but what matters most is exactly that - it was nothing more than a hectic, yet, she might also go as far to say a thrilling, dream.

Sitting up to rub her bleary eyes, Mikyla, for some reason, felt a lot lighter than usual. Perhaps lucid dreams spend more calories than regular ones but as she scratches her sides she pauses. Regardless of whether certain dreams use more energy than others, it was clear to her why she felt so light. With a few parts missing here and there, the blood drained from her face, only adding to her lightness. She was flat chested.

Mikyla resisted the urge to scream yet as she shifted her hands to her head, the short hair only confirmed the continuation of the nightmare. At first, Mikyla thought that the life of a Noble would be a dream come true, but after last nights events, she couldn't have been more wrong.

She could feel an immovable stone forming in her throat just at the memory of it. Mikyla remembered it as if it were yesterday (most likely because it was) but aside from the corny jokes which did little to lift her mood, Mikyla wished it had never happened.

*Flashback*

Watching the Drows line up one behind the other, each holding a silver platter, Mikyla could feel her mouth water as she sat ravenously at the centre of a long dining table, the tablecloth as blank as freshly fallen snow, awaiting the arrival of the following banquet. Having been fully refreshed, Mikyla sat adjacent her parents in expectancy. After having fumbled around with a suit and bowtie, this was something she could finally enjoy - something she had dreamt of for a long time.

Back when she was a Drow, Mikyla wasn't the lowest of the low but getting three meals a day was generally considered a bonus. Her father, previously being in the plumbing industry, brought home a handsome enough salary but the amount that would be handed to Mikyla on a silver platter very soon would have been more than a year's worth of food, not to mention the quality of the delicacies that Mikyla had never even seen previously.

With the clap of her hands, Mrs. Weyn stood up, her evening gown even more stunning than the one Mikyla had laid eyes on earlier.

"As you all know, this is a very special occasion, for you and us alike. Outside of our sophisticated society, your kind are celebrating their servitude to ours and likewise, within the confines of royal civilisation, we mark the birth of a new man. We raise our glasses to our son, Mikael, as he transitions into the heir of our humble estate."

Mikyla could feel her face redden. It had never occurred to her that whilst the Drows had the branding of The Verdant Mark, the Nobles would have their own conventions. It should have been obvious. Back home it was her birthday as well as everyone else's who was born in the same lunar cycle and Nobles were no exception. She had just stressed too much over The Verdant Mark to realise - it was her sixteenth birthday - her transition into womanhood, or manhood in this timeline.

"As per tradition." Mrs. Weyn raises a glass. "We must cast aside the past to pave the way for the future. We are sure your descendants will have the competency to take over your positions and without further ado, you may present us with the first dish - Miss Mary Clarence."

The first Drow in line gave a short curtsey before taking a visible gulp and holding her head high. She proceeded to make her way over to Mikyla where she served the first dish but Mikyla's appetite was now all but nought. After disembodying the turducken evenly, Mary Clarence lingered beside the table giving Mikyla a weak smile before getting on Mr. Weyn's nerves.

"Well? Get on with it. You know where the door is so pack whatever few possessions you have and leave so we may have the chance to partake in the next dish before it gets cold!"

Without so much as a moment's hesitation, Mary Clarence did one last curtsey before evacuating the premises. Mikyla didn't even have time to react before her mother called on the next name and the next dish was served. This continued on and on whilst Mikyla ate the last meal in silence, more out of respect for the Drows who cooked them rather than to appease her parents. She couldn't bare to look the Drows in the eyes as they left but she couldn't resist when a familiar name reached her ears - the name belonging to the Drow who had helped her earlier.

'Doris Weyn'

The name of her grandmother.

Mikyla just stared, mouth agape, as Doris served the last dish with a smile on her face which twinged at Mikyla's heartstrings causing her chest to tighten. She didn't linger and as soon as she presented the final dish, jelly and custard, a childhood favourite, the room was left in silence without even so much as a thank you.

At first, Mikyla couldn't comprehend what was going on. Doris Weyn was the name of her grandmother but it couldn't be because she was a Drow. The only explanation was that the switcheroo had generation limits. It switched Mikyla's gender and subrace as well as everyone else her age, however, when it came to her parents, only their subrace was changed yet they kept their designated genders. Following this pattern, it would explain why her grandmother kept both her subclass and gender yet in this universe she had not suffered a stroke.

Mikyla could feel her breathing wobble as she kicked herself under the table. How could she have been so blind? It was obvious that the Drow was her grandmother, she even had the same mole under her right eye as Mikyla had. It was good though, albeit twisted in nature. Mikyla was glad she had the chance to see her grandmother healthy one last time. Whatever messed up world this was, at least it had given Mikyla something precious yet it still had to be taken away. It had to be taken away by her parents no less!

Not being able to cope with the regret of losing her grandmother again. Mikyla abruptly stood up, shocking her parents in the process.

"Mikael! What do you think you are doing?"

Mikyla could feel her eye twitch. She hated the name her Noble parents called her and she hated their snobbish attitude. Nonetheless, from the hard school of life experience, Mikyla new that being argumentative would only slow her down.

"If you'll excuse me, I am going to the washroom."

"Hurry up then. You don't want the custard to go cold!"

Not needing to be told twice, Mikyla crossed the room as fast as the tight trousers allowed her to in pursuit of her grandmother. She barged through door after door but to no avail. There were no Drows left in the mansion.

Mikyla could feel her blood boil and knew she wouldn't be able to return to dinner. Instead, she searched through each room in a rampage, unable to find her bedroom without assistance and she sure wasn't going to ask her parents, more for their sake than her own. Eventually, Mikyla did find her room, after leaving a few broken doors in her wake, and collapsed in exhaustion onto the bed that had never been slept on before.

*End of flashback*

Mikyla grinds her teeth at the loss of her grandmother yesterday but she has to remain positive. Her grandmother is still alive, in this world and her own and it isn't like she would never see her again. Nonetheless, after yesterday's events, the purpose of why Mikyla had been thrust into this world was still as perplexing as it was weird. The mirror must have given her a new life for a reason. Sure, she did wish for it, but if fairytales could come true then there must have been a greater reason for it.

Ordinary people don't just get their wishes granted to them and it seems that the clause 'be careful what you wish for' didn't ring truer than ever before. This wasn't exactly how Mikyla envisioned being a Noble would be like but if she could get up, dress up and show up as a Drow then she sure as hell could do it as a Noble. Things may not be perfect but perfection is the destruction of imagination after all. It appears that there's no easy way out of social injustice but, then again, there's no better way to revolutionise than from the inside out.

Being a Noble would be hard, there's no doubt about that, but as Mikyla pulls on her best mask, she realises that if anybody can make life better for everyone, it would be her. It's not every day that you get a chance of a lifetime, or better yet, a chance of another lifetime and as cheesy as it sounds, Mikyla feels like a heroine of some sort of fantasy story. Well, it's that or mope about for an indefinite time period and if Mikyla learned anything whilst being a Drow, it's that life is going to give everyone lemons except for you and then laugh about it but sulking isn't going to change anything. If Mikyla really wants to change society then she's going to have to pickpocket a lemon, split it with those without and then amass an army of lemon squeezers to squeeze all the juice right into life's own eyes. It may be gruesome but, hey, sharing is caring and what comes around goes around - even lemons.

Although still shaken by yesterday's events, Mikyla jumped out of bed, brushing her head against the bottom of the hammock. She pouted at the lost chance but she knew she could always take a nap in it later. She didn't know how long she would be a Noble for but with her resolve sharpened, she was determined to fix up society before she changed back, if that ever happens. Being a Noble might have a time limit, like before midnight or something, and although Mikyla's top priority is to steal as many lemons as possible, figuratively, she still is going to try an experience as much as the Noble lifestyle as possible, riches and britches alike.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Mikyla swung the bedroom door open but was immediately stopped in her tracks. In the doorway was the face of Nath- Sam, but plastered on his face was the unmistakable sheepish grin of Sade. Mikyla pursed her lips not knowing how to decipher the sudden appearance of the thing she loathed yet loved at the same time but when a wrist suddenly grabbed her forearm, she realised she wouldn't be the one making the decision. Not yet anyway.

"Hurry up Mika! We're going to be late!"

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Word Count for Chapter 11: 1907
Total Word Count: 16032

Author's Note:

Hope you liked the UNEDITED chapter 11! Don't forget to press on those magical stars to light up Mikyla's future path and leave a comment telling me what you like so far or what you don't like. Thanks for reading so far.

Happy reading
~ Dracollavenore