Commission by  TheLupineOne cover by me.

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Zeydaan excitedly tore back the layers of brown packing paper that surrounded the package, revealing the wooden box underneath. The hinges squeaked as the wolf raised the lid, revealing what they had been waiting for all this time; a replica of the Monado! That legendary sword, Shulk's famed weapon, replicated right in front of them… of course, it wasn't the real thing. They certainly didn't expect to see visions of their future as soon as they picked it up. But its looks certainly matched the genuine, yet virtual, article.

Zeydaan lifted it from its case; the replica was crafted from a tough and dense, yet lightweight, foam. A hard material with little give as they squeezed the hilt. Sturdy, something that could take a beating. The sword had been painted in a shiny, lacquer-like red coating that elevated the foam, making it look like whatever otherworldly material the real Monado was crafted from. And there was one more feature to bring it as close to 100% accurate as possible…

With a push of a button embedded within the hilt, the pale blue lines carved into the sword shone, the illumination contrasting against the crimson. Perhaps the only things that set this replica apart from the real thing were its inability to project the glyphs that appeared when Shulk called upon the Monado Arts, and its power to open up and unleash the full power of a beam blade. But a sword was a sword despite the lack of such abilities.

Zeydaan turned to face some open space in their bedroom and gave it a few practice swings before ending in a cool pose; it cut through the air swiftly, its light weight aiding in its maneuverability. They brought Shulk to mind as they swung the weapon, looking to replicate his movements. They didn't buy this prop just for mere decoration; they wanted to get some use out of it! Zeydaan gave a mighty slash...

Suddenly, the blade seized up. All movement became impossible. Zeydaan gasped as they looked down at what they had done; they had somehow sliced a gash in mid air, opening up reality and revealing a black void within the slit they had carved. And in the grip of that cut, the sword was tightly wedged. Zeydaan tugged and tugged as hard as they could, trying to wrest the blade free from the trap it had made, but every movement caused the tear to open up further. Sure that would help them extricate the Monado prop, but their efforts were just tearing the fabric of reality even more…

Zeydaan could actually hear it ripping as the sword finally swung free from the incision it had made in thin air… but it certainly didn't feel as it did when they first got it wedged there. Even lighter. The wrong shape. One look told them all; it was not a sword in their paw but… something else? What was it? Compared to the Monado it was tiny.

The wolf peered closer at the implement they now held; their paw wrapped around a wooden grip from which a slender metal rod extended, tipped with… something pointy. Zeydaan gave it a test, gently pressing the fingers of their free hand against the points to see how sharp they were. What was this thing? Some sort of skewer? It looked like it could prong a marshmallow… but Zeydaan doubted the fancy thing would survive being held over a campfire. And to think that a comparatively sizable sword had been reduced to this... by… the rift!

Zeydaan's head jerked towards the hole they had sliced; it had grown even larger since they had pulled the object they held out, and something was actually visible beyond it rather than indeterminable blackness. It seemed to be some sort of corridor, a stretch of polished wood flooring with doors leading off at the sides, another at the end. Candles stood within sconces affixed to the

walls, flickering as they provided light to the space beyond in a manner much more old fashioned than Zeydaan's electrical illumination. The looks of the area through the widening portal felt like they were ripped from another time.

Zeydaan stuck their head through the gap, not noticing the fur of their right paw suck into their skin as they continued to hold the implement, nor the paw pads on their left hand's fingers losing their leathery toughness at the points where they had prodded them. Looking to their left, they saw a door, ajar; stepping back, they discovered what it was attached to; the opened dimensional aperture had grown from a rough rip to a perfectly neat rectangle, and the door was hinged to it.

Stepping back further, Zeydaan observed that the doorway their actions had brought forth was now surrounded by a wall of a similar style to that on the other side, spreading like paint would when poured on a flat surface, yet this phenomenon spread laterally. Zeydaan thought; they thought about the dimension beyond changing the prop sword into that thing. A dimension that changed what entered it… a power spreading out… the wolf worriedly looked to their paw… hand? That which gripped the implement was devoid of fur, with only pale pink skin visible...

Zeydaan's attention snapped back to the corridor as they heard a creaking from the far end. The wooden door slowly swung open, revealing those making their way. They looked human; their humanity was unmistakable, being beings devoid of fur and pure of skin, yet… there was something wrong with those two girls, clad in their robes and pointed hats. These… witches, presumably… their eyes were too big, their noses too small. And soon as they noticed Zeydaan, they broke out into a fit of unintelligible, rapidly spoken words.

They shrieked in panic as they charged towards the door; with barely any time to make sense of what language they spoke, they slammed it shut and turned the key that was already in the keyhole. They had already come to the conclusion that the realm beyond them and all that came from it had a transformative influence; from the odd device in their grasp to the appearing walls that were surrounding the gateway he had formed…

Zeydaan was hit with a pang of realisation. They had stuck their head through the doorway; a portion of them had spent time in the other world they had discovered. With horror, they raised their hands and rested them against his face, feeling it… smooth. Not just in terms of a lack of fur, but a lack of muzzle. A nose that wasn't permanently wet and leathery, but just as soft and supple as the rest of the skin on his face. They brushed through hair that was longer than the 'do they was used to, with no furry ears pointing at its sides. They continued to feel, hands travelling down the sides of their face, down the smooth tresses, to rest upon unmistakably human ears that were sandwiched between them. They could even feel an earring hooked to the right earlobe. The extent of those changes just felt so irreversible to them. But they had spent so long a time exploring that new face of theirs that they paid no heed to the changes happening behind them, spreading through space, expanding beyond the walls that had formed, altering the dimensions of the bedroom. It was only as they stepped back and turned, following the walls, that they noticed what had become of the room.

Zeydaan gaped at how expansive their room now was. What once housed one bed now contained two. A bunk bed to their left, a single bed to their right, flanking a wood-framed window. They looked to the vista beyond; not the neighbourhood they called home, but something altogether more rural and beautiful. But despite such an idyll in front of them, it dawned on Zeydaan that they were now completely surrounded by the otherworld they had accessed, and the pocket of space they were

inhabiting had become a part of it. Did they really have no choice but to resign himself to being affected by this dimension?

Zeydaan set down the curious pronged object they had been keeping hold of all this time, and turned their attention to the desk that faced the window. All sorts of strange devices were strewn about it, along with piles of books whose pages were inked with strange characters. But eventually Zeydaan's hand rested on a pair of glasses. Those indigo frames, those circular lenses… why did it all seem so familiar? Why did it feel like those spectacles were calling out to them? As they gradually gripped the glasses, Zeydaan's vision started to blur. They rested a hand to their head, gripping their smooth skin, and their subconsciousness made the connection. Vision… glasses… put them on…

Ambling to a mirror in the corner of the room, Zeydaan slipped the arms of the glasses over their relocated ears and let them sit perfectly on their nose. As the lenses passed over and in front of their eyes, the slender crimson eyes of the wolf widened, irises lightening to pink. Wide and round, part of an expression that… those witches… just like them… in a panic, Zeydaan swiped the spectacles off their face, but their vision without them was so blurred, and their eyes refused to change back to their original state… deep in their mind he felt a wrongness to be without them. A painful wrongness. Back on they went, giving Zeydaan a view of just how human they had become.

All skin seemed to be bereft of fur, and their now fleshy tail was shrinking towards a rear that was rounding out slightly, slithering up underneath the hem of their sweatshirt. They looked behind them, watching it tuck under the extending garment… extending? Yes, the hem was dropping, fabric stretching, getting a little stiffer, baggier, especially at the sleeves as they stretched further down their arms. Indigo dye bled all over the garment as Zeydaan's jeans broke apart above the knees, the separated portions going their own ways, up and down apiece, parting to reveal more smooth, pale skin. Down, slithering to cover their bare feet. Up, compressing around their… oh no… An absence was becoming evident to Zeydaan's senses. As it did, their waistline compressed a little, their body shifting to fill into the fit of the cloak that they now wore; a hardy indigo garment that opened at the neck to reveal a formal shirt underneath, with a ribbon of pink material clasped around the waist.

"Why does this feel familiar?" Zeydaan thought, thinking a voice not their own, yet… it felt like it belonged to them. That youthful female voice, speaking in a foreign language they had never heard yet could translate word for word. "And why does it feel like something's missing?" Zeydaan paced from one end of the room to the other, the boots they now wore making gentle thuds as they clomped against the wooden floorboards. They approached the chest of drawers that stood beside the bunk bed and slid a drawer out. The clothes inside, all neatly folded up… all so familiar too.

"These are mine…" Zeydaan realised. "Heh, guess this is what it takes to break the spell." Yes, it was all coming back to her now; the young witch in training, chasing her aspirations, having dreams of being a master in the school of dimensional magic, had somehow cast a transformation spell on herself, converting her body into that of a male wolf. She smiled a gentle smile; all it took was something familiar to spark her memory and let it return to its rightful place, otherwise she'd have had one body and another, completely different, identity in her head. Isabella… that was her name. Although Zeydaan… it had a nice ring to it. Likeable, just as that wolf persona. Maybe something to consider for the future?

Isabella found what she was looking for; her hat, with its point that curved and drooped to its end, its indigo and pink colour scheme that matched her uniform. She set it on her head, picked up her wand, and left the dormitory into the corridors of Luna Nova. Her friends must have been worried sick about her situation; they'd be glad to see her like this again!