Chapter 5: A Whole New We.
Despite how crazy the day had been, Jamie felt satisfied—maybe even accomplished in a way she'd never experienced before.
She thought she knew what accomplishment felt like. Back home, she'd been one of the top earners at her architecture firm. She'd received awards and accolades for her last project alone, one that had netted the company twenty-eight million dollars. Of course, very little of that money had actually ended up in Jamie's pocket. Still, being able to walk into a dealership and buy a new car with cash wasn't a small thing, especially in the 2020s. That sense of achievement had been real.
At least, Jamie had thought so before today.
Now, somehow, that old life and all those achievements felt… less.
It was hard to put into words. The best analogy Jamie could come up with was that she'd spent most of her old life like a hamster in a wheel, putting out maximum effort just to stay in the same place. She'd run faster than most people, sure. She'd even gotten some shiny awards for running particularly well.
But the wheel was still a wheel.
This new life felt more like climbing Mount Everest. Not that Jamie was anywhere near the summit yet. Hell, as far as accomplishments went, she'd basically bought the plane ticket, made it through TSA without getting molested, and somehow found her assigned seat crammed between a woman with a screaming infant on one side and a smelly guy on the other.
Next came surviving the ridiculously long flight to the Himalayas.
Then she could start worrying about the mountain.
The analogy wasn't perfect, but the feeling was. This world was dangerous—Jamie had already collected more than enough evidence of that—but it was also beautiful. More importantly, for the first time in longer than she could remember, she didn't feel like she was running as hard as she could just to stay in place.
She was going somewhere.
Jamie wasn't entirely sure where yet, but apparently that was part of the appeal.
Still trying to come to grips with the possibilities this new life seemed determined to throw at her, Jamie stopped beside the pool and began removing her gear.
The armor came first. Jamie unfastened the dark leather cuirass and set it on a large, flat rock beside the water, followed by her sword and wand. She kept everything close enough that she could reach it quickly if Ember decided their peaceful little campsite wasn't quite as peaceful as advertised.
Her boots came next.
Jamie tugged them off one at a time, followed by her socks, which she rolled together and placed beside them.
Then she reached for the dress.
There was a moment of hesitation there.
Not because she hadn't already become intimately familiar with what was underneath it. That particular mystery had been solved earlier with considerably more enthusiasm than was probably necessary.
This was different.
She was outside. In a forest. On another planet. And she was about to get naked.
Jamie glanced around.
Nothing.
Trees. Rocks. Water. Then she looked at Ember.
The little fox stood atop the same rock as Jamie's gear, vigilant as ever. Her three tails shifted slowly behind her while her ears turned toward every little sound coming from the darkening forest. Jamie couldn't hear half of whatever Ember was listening to, but after the lesson with the dire rats earlier that day, she had no intention of questioning her.
Still clear? Jamie sent.
Ember's ears twitched.
Nothing dangerous is near us.
What about creepy dudes with night-vision goggles? Jamie sent.
What?
Jamie sighed.
The two of them still had a long way to go when it came to understanding one another. It was probably going to take weeks to explain to Ember all the bizarre details of Jamie's old world.
Now that she thought about it, though, that actually sounded kind of fun.
Campfire Stories with Your Host, Jamie Godwin.
She could already hear the intro music.
Is anyone watching us? Jamie clarified.
No.
“Good enough for me.”
Jamie grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head.
Cool evening air immediately washed across considerably more skin than Jamie was accustomed to having exposed outdoors.
“Yep. That's weird.”
She folded the dress neatly and placed it on the rock.
That left her underwear.
The forest-green briefs matched the runes on her dress almost perfectly. Delicate white runes traced the fabric, an inverse of the forest-green markings woven into the dress. Like everything else the Goddess had provided, they were simple but surprisingly well made, with narrow cords tied at either hip instead of anything resembling elastic. They were flattering without being ridiculous about it, with enough material in back to actually stay where it belonged.
Jamie had already decided she approved.
Cute was good. If she was going to be this, she needed to maximize the cuteness factor. She'd smile when guys tried to be funny, lay a reassuring hand on someone when they were feeling down, and play cheerleader when people needed that last ten percent to kill the boss.
It all fell in line with Jamie practicing the poses after first waking up in this world. A positive attitude generated positive results. Being negative about living in a completely different body would just keep Jamie running on that hamster wheel.
Plus, these cute undergarments didn't require picking a wedgie after every sword fight. Today's fighting had already proved that. Jamie wasn't sure how positive she could've stayed if she'd had to readjust her underwear every time she sidestepped a slime.
Action undies.
That was what Jamie was calling these things.
Jamie untied one side, then the other, slipped them off, and folded them on top of her dress.
The matching top followed, joining the rest of her clothes on the rock.
There.
Officially naked in the woods.
Jamie took a good look around, half expecting Jason Voorhees to come storming out of some dark corner with a machete.
He didn't.
Jamie shrugged.
That was another sentence she hadn't expected to become relevant today.
Jamie slipped one foot into the water.
Cool.
Definitely cool.
But thankfully not holy-crap-get-me-out-of-here cold.
She lowered her other leg and slowly waded deeper. The temperature was enough to raise goosebumps along her skin, but not enough to send her sprinting naked toward the remains of their fire fifty yards away. Their campsite sat just inside the trees, partially enclosed by several large rocks that helped conceal what little light the dying fire still gave off. From the pool, however, Jamie could still see its faint orange glow flickering between the trunks.
That was comforting.
So was the small fox standing guard over her.
Jamie didn't linger in the knee-deep shallows for long. Step by careful step, she moved farther into the pool, suppressing a small shiver as the water climbed from her knees to her thighs, then her waist, until finally it settled just below her chest.
She stopped there.
The surface of the pool had gone almost perfectly still around her, broken only by the faint ripples spreading away from her body. Jamie looked down.
For most of the day, she'd only caught pieces of herself. A glimpse while checking the dress. Her hands wandering during that rather enthusiastic inventory earlier. A reflection here and there. There had always been something else happening—some new discovery, some monster trying to kill her, some system window demanding her attention.
This was different.
For the first time, Jamie had nothing demanding her attention except Jamie.
Only one of the two moons was still visible through the trees, and barely at that, but its pale light was enough. It spilled across the pool and caught on the rippling water, tracing the unfamiliar lines and curves of the body beneath it.
Jamie stared.
She'd already established earlier that the Goddess had been extremely generous when designing her new body. That hadn't exactly been subtle. But seeing herself like this—standing nearly chest-deep in a quiet forest pool beneath an alien moon—made the whole thing feel real in a way those earlier inspections hadn't.
This was her.
Not something she was borrowing. Not some temporary transformation that would wear off when she woke up. Unless the Goddess had neglected to mention a fairly important return policy, this was the body Jamie would be living in from now on.
And holy crap, she'd been blessed.
The cool water hadn't managed to steal Jamie's breath when she'd stepped into it.
The sight of herself did.
For several seconds, she simply stood there and took herself in.
“Wow,” Jamie finally whispered.
It wasn't even vanity. Okay, it was definitely a little vanity. But there was something else mixed in with it too.
Jamie crouched slightly, lowering herself until the water reached her shoulders, then leaned forward and waited for the ripples to settle. Slowly, a face emerged in the dark surface.
Her face.
That was still strange to think.
Brown hair framed features that were becoming familiar surprisingly quickly. A few of the tiny flowers woven naturally through it remained stubbornly in place despite everything she'd put them through that day. Pointed ears peeked through the damp strands, and when Jamie tilted her head just right, moonlight caught her eyes and brought out that impossible light green.
There wasn't a trace of the blond-haired, blue-eyed man who had gone drinking the night before.
Jamie touched her cheek.
The woman in the water did the same.
“So this is really me now.”
She waited for that thought to bother her.
Strangely, it didn't. Maybe she was adapting remarkably well.
Or maybe being reincarnated as an absurdly attractive fantasy woman was simply one of those problems that became significantly easier to accept every time you looked in a mirror.
Jamie considered her reflection for another few seconds.
“Yeah. Probably that one.”
After another few moments admiring her reflection, Jamie finally remembered why she'd stepped into the pool in the first place.
Right.
Bathing.
She looked at the bar of soap she'd been holding in her left hand the entire time. Another thoughtful contribution from the Goddess. Apparently, whoever had assembled Jamie's survival gear had anticipated monsters, wilderness travel, and personal hygiene with roughly equal concern.
Jamie started with the easy stuff.
An arm was an arm. A leg was still a leg. Shoulders hadn't undergone any revolutionary redesign while crossing dimensions. She worked the soap over her skin, rinsing away what little dirt had managed to accumulate during the day and discovering yet another advantage of being a Dryad: there really wasn't much to clean.
No sweat. No body odor. Very little grime stubbornly clinging to her skin. The floral scent she'd noticed earlier was still there, faint but unmistakable.
Honeysuckle.
Even after an entire day of hiking, fighting, nearly getting eaten by rats, and doing considerably more physical activity than Jamie's old office job had generally required, she somehow smelled like she'd spent the afternoon wandering through a flower garden.
Jamie could get used to that.
Washing her hair was a little more involved. She gathered the damp brown strands in both hands and quickly discovered that hair falling several inches past her shoulders became substantially more annoying once it was wet. It clung to her neck and cheeks and somehow managed to find its way into her mouth.
“How do women deal with this every day?”
As she worked her fingers through her hair, they brushed across the small flowers growing around the crown of her head. Jamie slowed instinctively, careful around them. She still wasn't entirely sure how the flowers worked, only that they were very much alive and very much a part of her now.
Another Dryad mystery for later.
She scrubbed her scalp, rinsed everything clean, and pushed the wet mass of brown hair back behind her shoulders.
It immediately tried to slide forward again. Jamie sighed. Long hair was apparently going to require some training.
Her stomach was easy enough. So were her back and hips. There were differences, obviously—quite a few of them—but the basic procedure remained reassuringly familiar.
Then she reached her chest. Jamie stopped.
This was different.
She'd already conducted a fairly enthusiastic inspection earlier, so their existence wasn't exactly breaking news. Washing them, however, was something Jamie had never needed to consider before.
Still, there wasn't exactly a complicated procedure involved. Soap was soap, skin was skin, and once she got past the initial weirdness, it turned out to be surprisingly mundane.
Different, certainly. But manageable.
That left one last area.
Jamie looked down through the water and felt some of that earlier nervousness return.
Right.
This was the part she'd been trying not to think about.
She knew perfectly well there was nothing sexual about what she needed to do. This was basic hygiene. The rational part of Jamie's brain understood that completely.
Unfortunately, the rational part wasn't the one currently objecting.
For thirty-some years, she'd lived with one set of equipment. Less than a day ago, that equipment had been replaced without so much as an instruction manual, and now she was expected to perform routine maintenance like this was all perfectly normal.
Jamie took a breath.
Well, there was only one way this was ever going to stop feeling strange.
She washed herself.
Carefully at first, mostly because everything was unfamiliar. Once she'd gotten past that initial hesitation, though, the whole thing became considerably less dramatic than her brain had made it out to be.
A minute later, she was done. Jamie stood there for a moment.
That was it?
Apparently so.
Then she glanced toward the rock and remembered one last thing.
Laundry.
Her forest-green underwear set sat folded beside the dress, with her socks tucked neatly alongside it.
Jamie waded back toward the edge of the pool and reached for both.
The moment she picked them up, however, she hesitated.
They were clean.
Jamie frowned and inspected the undergarments more closely.
Not looks clean if you don't inspect too closely clean.
Actually clean.
No dirt. No smell. No trace whatsoever that she'd spent most of the day hiking through a forest, fighting monsters, and generally doing things that should have made underwear considerably less than fresh.
She picked up one of the socks and rubbed the fabric between her fingers.
Same thing.
“Huh.”
Jamie glanced at her dress. Of course. Apparently the Goddess hadn't stopped with the dress. Her socks and underwear had the same enchantment.
Which raised an interesting question.
Did she ever actually need to wash them?
Jamie looked at the forest-green underwear in her hand.
Her brain immediately supplied an answer.
Yes.
“Yeah, magic or not, we're still washing the underwear.”
There were limits.
These might be every-day-of-the-week undies, but Jamie wasn't about to stop washing them every chance she got. Magic could apparently keep them perfectly clean, and that was great, but trusting an enchantment enough to abandon basic hygiene altogether was on the far side of one of Jamie's lines.
Then again, now that she thought about it, she had two more matching sets of undergarments tucked away in her rucksack. Three sets total. That meant she could change every day like a civilized person and still maintain her principles.
Good.
Jamie liked principles that came with spare underwear.
Maybe after a few months she'd trust the enchantment enough to stop washing them.
Maybe.
Jamie doubted it.
She worked a little soap through the green fabric anyway, making sure to clean it properly before rinsing it in the pool.
There.
Now it was Jamie clean.
Which was apparently different from magically clean for reasons she couldn't adequately explain.
The socks received the same treatment, mostly because once she'd committed to doing laundry, stopping halfway felt weird.
Jamie wrung the excess water from the first sock.
Or tried to.
Nothing came out.
She frowned.
Then squeezed harder.
Still nothing.
Jamie stared at it. The sock was dry. Completely dry.
She checked the other one.
Dry.
Then the underwear.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Also dry. Jamie blinked.
“Okay. That's cheating.”
She wasn't complaining.
Apparently the enchantment wasn't merely keeping them clean. It refused to let them remain wet either.
That was going to be ridiculously useful.
Jamie returned everything to the rock, then sank deeper into the pool until the water reached her shoulders and finally allowed herself to relax.
Somehow, after monsters, magic, death, reincarnation, and becoming an entirely different species, taking a bath had managed to make the list of things she'd been nervous about today.
What a weird freaking day.
With everything that needed washing finally washed—and apparently magically dried—Jamie took a moment just to exist.
She leaned back against the smooth edge of the pool and let the water hold some of her weight, her arms drifting loosely at her sides. Without another problem demanding her immediate attention, she could finally appreciate just how peaceful this place was.
The river whispered somewhere beyond the rocks. Insects chirped from the surrounding forest, joined occasionally by some distant call Jamie couldn't identify. Above it all, moonlight filtered through gaps in the canopy and painted pale streaks across the surface of the pool.
If she forgot about the monsters for a minute—and the fact that she was stranded on another planet with no idea where the nearest civilization might be—this place really was its own kind of blessing.
Jamie looked up toward the moon and sighed.
She wished she could convince herself it was all downhill from here, but Jamie knew better than that. Going back to her earlier analogy, she'd only just sat down in her airplane seat. She still had a ridiculously long flight ahead of her before she even reached the mountain.
And then she had to climb the damn thing.
Still, that was tomorrow's problem.
Jamie remained in the water for another minute before reluctantly looking toward Ember. The little fox was exactly where she'd been before, standing atop the rock with her three tails shifting behind her. Her ears continued rotating independently, constantly tracking sounds Jamie couldn't hear.
Is it clear for me to get out? Jamie sent.
It is clear. Nothing has changed.
Jamie waited.
Ember's ears continued swiveling. Apparently that was the entire security briefing.
Jamie was surprised to discover she was actually a little disappointed that it was time to get out. What had started as something she'd been nervous about had turned into the first truly relaxing moment she'd experienced since waking up that morning.
But staying in the pool all night probably wasn't a viable plan.
She waded back toward the shallows and climbed out, immediately feeling the cooler night air against her wet skin. That provided plenty of motivation to get dressed. Jamie grabbed the forest-green briefs first
They were still perfectly dry.
Of course they were.
She stepped into them and pulled them into place, then retied the narrow cords at either hip so they fit snugly against her.
Jamie gave one side an experimental tug.
Secure.
She twisted at the waist.
Still secure.
Jamie picked up the matching bikini-style top next and slipped it on, adjusting it until everything felt comfortably secure. Apparently the Goddess had thought of that too. Cute was great, but keeping the girls where they belonged during a sword fight was considerably more important.
Jamie nodded in satisfaction.
“Action undies,” she muttered approvingly.
Next came the dress.
Jamie slipped it over her head, and the light fabric fell down around her body before settling naturally into place.
She'd wondered what the enchanted material would do against wet skin.
Apparently, the answer was show off.
The dress didn't cling to her.
Not even for a second.
Wherever the fabric touched droplets of water, the moisture simply disappeared. Jamie ran a hand down the front of the dress and found it perfectly dry.
Then she touched her side where the fabric had just settled.
Dry too.
Jamie blinked.
“No freaking way.”
She pulled one of the wide shoulder straps slightly away from her skin and checked underneath.
Dry.
Somehow the dress wasn't merely keeping itself clean and dry.
It was removing the water from Jamie wherever the fabric touched her.
Jamie looked down at herself, then back toward the underwear hidden beneath the dress.
“Huh.”
That explained why those had dried so quickly.
Apparently the enchantment didn't simply reject dirt and water. It actively got rid of them.
Where that water actually went was anyone's guess. Maybe it evaporated. Maybe the magic dumped it back into the pool. Maybe there was an increasingly confused pocket dimension somewhere slowly filling with Jamie's bathwater.
She had absolutely no idea.
Jamie let the strap settle back into place and grinned.
One thing, however, was now beyond dispute.
“This dress is badass as heck.”
Her socks went on next. Still perfectly clean. Still perfectly dry.
Jamie was beginning to suspect laundry might not be a major concern in her immediate future.
The boots followed.
After pulling them on, Jamie picked up her armor but decided against putting it on. She planned to be asleep shortly, not getting into another fight with a nest full of rats. The armor could stay off until morning.
“You ready, Ember?” Jamie asked as she gathered the rest of her things.
Yes. And do not forget your promise.
Jamie smiled.
I didn't forget. One of those two yams has your name on it for being my diligent little bodyguard while I bathed.
Ember looked up at her.
Name on it?
Jamie paused.
Sorry. Figure of speech. It means the yam belongs to you.
Oh. Good.
Jamie shook her head as she started toward camp. “I still can't believe you're hungry after all the food we ate for dinner.”
Ember fell into step beside her, three tails swaying behind her.
You can have other one, Ember assured her. Not greedy. Just hungry.
No thanks. I'm stuffed.
Ember looked up at her.
Stuffed?
Yeah. It means I'm full.
Ember studied Jamie for another couple of steps.
You do not look stuffed.
Jamie turned toward her.
The expression on Ember's face broke her.
A laugh escaped before Jamie could stop it, much louder than she'd intended. The sound carried through the trees, and Jamie immediately stopped walking.
Crap.
Her smile vanished. Jamie listened, slipping instinctively into a defensive stance, one hand hovering near the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it from the scabbard in an instant.
The forest continued around them as if nothing had happened, but Jamie had learned enough over the course of the day to know that didn't necessarily mean anything.
Ember's ears rotated in several directions, checking the darkness around them.
We are fine. No danger is nearby.
Jamie released the breath she'd been holding.
“Okay. Good.”
She started walking again, then pointed accusingly at Ember.
“That was your fault, by the way. Maybe turn down the cute facial expressions next time.”
Ember stared up at her.
I have a face.
Jamie nearly lost it again.
“You're not helping.”
By the time they returned to camp, Jamie was more than ready to call it a day.
Ember, apparently, was ready for second dinner.
Jamie retrieved one of the remaining yams and set it at Ember’s feet on a plate. Ember immediately settled beside the fire and attacked her prize with enough enthusiasm to suggest dinner had happened several days ago rather than less than an hour.
Jamie shook her head.
“I seriously don't know where you put it all.”
Ember didn't bother answering. She was busy eating.
Jamie set her armor beside the rucksack and checked the campsite one last time. The fire had burned down considerably while they were gone, leaving more glowing coals than flame, but that was fine with her. She added one small log, just enough to keep the fire going while she fell asleep.
Her bedroll and cloak waited nearby. The bedroll wasn't anything special, but it beat sleeping on the hard ground. Her cloak doubled as a blanket, and it was more than enough to keep the cool night air at bay.
Sleep.
That sounded really good.
Jamie sat down on the bedroll and pulled off her boots. She unbuckled her sword and wand, setting both beside the rest of her gear, then stretched out, shifted onto her side, and closed her eyes.
Nope.
She rolled onto her back.
Still nope. Jamie stared up at the darkness.
This wasn't going to work. Her body might have been ready for sleep, but her brain apparently hadn't gotten the memo.
It felt like Christmas Eve when she was twelve, knowing there was a brand-new gaming console wrapped beneath the tree. She'd known exactly what it was. She'd known it would still be there in the morning. And she'd known she was supposed to stay in bed and wait like a normal human being.
She hadn't.
Jamie's eyes opened.
Technically, it was still Christmas Eve. And her shiny new toy was sitting right there, waiting to be unwrapped.
“Oh, screw it.”
Jamie sat back up.
There was one thing she'd been meaning to try.
She'd noticed it earlier while going through her status screen, but between leveling, fighting, dinner, Ember's class selection, and everything else that had happened, she'd never gotten around to experimenting with it.
Shapeshifting.
Jamie brought up the relevant part of her status screen.
One available form.
Whatever she chose would apparently be permanent, at least until additional slots became available later.
Jamie stared at the entry.
“Hey, Ember.”
Ember looked up from what remained of her yam.
What?
“I'm thinking about trying my Shapeshifting skill.”
Ember stopped chewing. Her eyes moved from Jamie to the yam and then back again.
Now?
“Just once.”
Ember considered that, swallowed, and returned to eating. Apparently Jamie had permission.
The skill itself didn't provide much guidance. Jamie focused on it and felt something respond almost immediately, similar to the way her magic had earlier, except this felt different. There was no wand waiting to channel her mana and no spell structure telling it what to become.
Instead, the ability seemed to be waiting on her. An impression settled into Jamie's thoughts.
Envision the form.
That was it?
Jamie smiled.
Oh, she could work with that.
If she only got one animal for the foreseeable future, there was no reason to screw around with something small. She wanted something strong, fast, and dangerous enough that anything seeing her in the forest might reconsider putting Jamie on the menu.
A tiger immediately came to mind as Jamie got to her feet.
Jamie had always loved big cats. They were fast, powerful, surprisingly stealthy for something that could weigh several hundred pounds, and came conveniently equipped with claws and a mouth full of knives.
Perfect.
She closed her eyes and built the image in her mind.
A Siberian tiger. Orange fur. Black stripes. Massive shoulders. Powerful legs. Claws the size of daggers. Teeth meant to tear into flesh with extreme prejudice.
Jamie concentrated.
For an instant, nothing happened.
Then the mana responded to her will.
It surged through her body, far more broadly than when she'd cast Field Dressing. Instead of flowing down one arm toward her wand, the magic flooded everywhere at once.
Her skin prickled.
Her muscles tightened.
Then came something deeper.
Pressure built inside her bones—not pain exactly, but the profoundly uncomfortable sensation that something had taken hold of her skeleton and was preparing to rearrange it.
Jamie's knees bent.
She hadn't told them to.
Her balance shifted forward, and suddenly standing upright felt wrong. Her body wanted down. Her hands drifted toward the ground as her back hunched and her weight settled onto the balls of her feet.
Jamie sucked in a breath.
Holy crap.
This was actually happening.
For one strange heartbeat, she could almost feel the tiger waiting beneath her skin. Not fur or claws yet, nothing that concrete, but the shape of something much larger trying to force her body into a completely different arrangement.
Her fingertips were only inches from the ground when—
Nothing.
The magic simply stopped.
The pressure vanished. Her muscles relaxed. Whatever instinct had been pulling her toward all fours disappeared with it, leaving Jamie awkwardly crouched over the grass with both hands hanging between her knees.
A notification appeared.
Transformation Failed
First of three attempts used. Failure to successfully transform within three attempts will result in the loss of this transformation slot.
Reason: Mass incompatibility
Jamie slowly straightened.
“Huh.”
Across the fire, Ember continued chewing while she watched Jamie.
You are still Jamie.
“Thank you, Ember, for stating the obvious.”
Was it not the goal to change? Ember sent.
“It was. I was going for a tiger.”
Ember stopped chewing.
Her ears tilted forward, suddenly very alert at hearing the word tiger.
Tigers are very dangerous, Ember sent.
Yeah, that was the point of wanting to become one.
Ember looked Jamie up and down. She returned to her yam before commenting any further.
You are too small.
Jamie frowned.
This place has rules, Ember sent. Even I know that.
Ember's criticism clicked something into place in Jamie's memory.
Mass incompatibility.
That was why the transformation had failed.
There were actual rules governing this. Rules she apparently needed to follow. This was all new to Jamie, and if she only had two attempts left, she damn well needed to know what those rules were before trying again.
Thankfully, the system—or the Goddess—knew Jamie was a noob, and there was a way to find out.
“Help menu. Shapeshifting for dummies.”
The information appeared almost immediately.
Shapeshifting — Beginner Parameters
Current Level: 1• Allowed Mass Range: ±25% of current body weight• Current Weight: 122 lb• Valid Transformation Range: 91.5–152.5 lb
Note: Exceeding parameters will result in failed attempts.
Jamie stared at it.
She exhaled and recalibrated. She still wanted a cat—something fast, strong, and dangerous without being absurd.
A mountain cat.
Lean. Muscular. Efficient.
“A puma,” Jamie said softly.
As far as North American animals went, Jamie had always loved mountain lions. Beautiful and deadly, she'd spent most of her life hoping to see one in the wild—preferably from a safe distance and not with its jaws wrapped around her neck.
One of Jamie's saddest memories growing up in Southern California had actually involved one. She'd been a kid at the time, riding with her family up to Julian for the fall festival, when they'd spotted a mountain lion lying dead on the side of the road.
They'd stopped to look at it.
Jamie had assumed it had been hit by a car. That had been sad enough. What had stuck with her, though, was her dad taking a closer look and telling them that wasn't what had killed it.
Someone had shot it.
Even as a kid, Jamie had hated that. Someone had seen this beautiful animal out there just doing what it was supposed to do—being a mountain lion—and decided it needed to die.
All these years later, she could still remember looking down at it.
So yeah.
A puma.
Jamie wanted that beauty for herself, and if choosing this form could also serve as a small tribute to that old memory, all the better.
She closed her eyes and built the animal in her mind: sleek tawny fur, powerful shoulders and hind legs, thick paws hiding curved claws, and a long tail for balance. A predator built for speed, stealth, and sudden violence.
Jamie concentrated.
The mana responded almost immediately, flooding through her entire body just as it had during the failed attempt. Her skin prickled, her muscles tightened, and that strange pressure settled deep into her bones.
Her knees bent.
There it was again—that uncomfortable insistence that standing upright was somehow wrong. This time, instead of resisting it, Jamie leaned forward and lowered her hands toward the ground.
The magic didn't stop.
Oh, dang.
Her palms touched the earth just as the real change began. Her balance pitched forward as her shoulders shifted and her arms shortened beneath her. Fingers pulled inward, palms broadened, and nails thickened into curved claws as human hands became heavy feline paws.
The transformation rolled through the rest of her body in a continuous wave. Her legs changed beneath her, muscles bunching and rearranging while her hips rotated into a completely different stance. Her spine lengthened, forcing Jamie lower as her torso reshaped itself around a body designed to move on four legs.
The sensation was uncomfortable and deeply strange, but never quite painful. What bothered Jamie more was being able to feel it happening—the pressure of bones changing shape, muscles pulling into new positions, and joints finding angles they had never occupied before.
Then something extended from the base of her spine.
A tail.
Jamie felt it grow behind her, and almost as soon as it was there, she somehow knew how to use it. Her balance adjusted instinctively as the long tail moved behind her, countering the unfamiliar weight of her new body.
Tawny fur swept across her skin while her face pushed forward into a muzzle. Her ears shifted higher, her teeth sharpened, and then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, the pressure faded.
Jamie sucked in a breath.
The forest's smells exploded around her.
Smoke, damp earth, pine, Ember, and Ember's yam all arrived as separate scents instead of one blended smell. Her hearing sharpened with it. She could hear the fire crackling and Ember chewing before she'd even had a chance to look at what she'd become.
That lasted for all of half a second before Ember the glutton finally forgot about her yam.
Ember's mouth fell open. The partially chewed piece of yam slipped from her maw and landed on the ground.
Don't panic. It's still me, Ember, Jamie sent before her friend decided that running for her life was the appropriate response.
Jamie?
Yes.
Ember clearly wasn't ready to take Jamie's word for it. She slowly moved closer to where puma-Jamie stood on the opposite side of the campfire, advancing one cautious paw at a time. Her body remained tense, ready to bolt at the slightest sudden movement.
Jamie couldn't blame her. A few minutes ago she'd been a five-foot-seven Dryad. Now she was a hundred-plus pounds of mountain lion standing close enough to eat Ember in about three bites.
So Jamie stayed perfectly still and let Ember come to her.
Sniff... sniff.
At about two feet away, Ember apparently decided that was close enough. She stretched her neck forward, nose working as she sampled the air between them.
You smell... like you, Ember sent.
The tension finally began to leave her body.
Jamie's new ears twitched.
Well, that's reassuring.
Maybe change back, please, Ember sent.
That was new. Ember had yet to use the word please before.
Sorry, but not yet. I want to take my new toy for a quick spin before getting some sleep.
Ember hesitated.
I guess... okay.
Jamie's tail flicked behind her. Even that was still ridiculously cool.
How's it looking out there, Ember? Anything bitey close by?
Finding comfort in having a purpose again, Ember's demeanor relaxed even further as her ears began scanning the forest for danger. It didn't slip past Jamie's newly heightened senses that those fox ears focused on her more than once during the scan.
Apparently Jamie still qualified as a potential threat.
Fair.
It is clear, Ember eventually sent.
Thanks, Jamie sent back. Be back in ten.
Without waiting for Ember's reply, Jamie took off.
Her hind legs drove into the earth with enough force to throw dirt behind her, and suddenly Jamie was moving faster under her own power than she'd ever experienced without the assistance of a motor vehicle.
The first few seconds were more controlled panic than running. Four legs should have required some thought, but they didn't. Her body already knew the rhythm, front paws reaching and hind legs driving while her spine flexed between each stride. Jamie simply had to decide where she wanted to go and trust the instincts that came with the form to handle most of the details.
She raced around the outer edge of the campsite, staying close enough that the campfire smoke kept Jamie oriented to where base camp was. She completed one full lap before deciding that wasn't nearly fast enough.
On the second, she opened up properly.
The difference was immediate.
Her paws tore across the forest floor while trees flashed past on either side. Jamie ducked beneath a low branch without consciously thinking about it, bounded over a fallen log, and landed already accelerating. Her tail moved constantly behind her, correcting her balance through every turn with such natural precision that she quickly stopped noticing she was using it.
Okay, this is freaking awesome.
By the third lap, Jamie started experimenting.
She cut hard around a tree and discovered there were limits to feline traction when her rear paws lost their grip. Jamie skidded sideways through a layer of dead leaves, claws digging furrows through the dirt as she desperately tried to correct.
Somehow, she stayed upright.
Barely.
Jamie came out of the slide facing almost ninety degrees from where she'd intended, recovered, and immediately took off again.
If she'd still had a human mouth, she would have been laughing.
The next fallen log wasn't an obstacle. It was a challenge.
Jamie accelerated toward it and jumped.
Her new body launched.
For an instant there was nothing beneath her paws, and the distance she covered was enough to make some still-human part of Jamie's brain scream that she'd badly miscalculated. Then her front paws hit the ground well beyond the log, her hind legs followed, and she absorbed the impact so smoothly that she barely lost speed.
That settled it.
She needed to try something bigger.
Jamie spotted a thick tree ahead and changed course. Instead of running around it, she went straight for the trunk.
Her claws came out instinctively.
Jamie hit the bark and went up.
She scrambled several yards before the sheer absurdity of what she was doing finally registered. Jamie clung to the trunk and looked down at the forest floor.
Huh.
Apparently climbing trees was on easy mode in this form.
Of course, getting up had been the exciting part. Coming back down required a little more consideration.
Jamie shifted her weight, found purchase with her hind paws, and worked her way back toward the ground. She wanted to call climbing back down gracefully, but that would have been a lie. The instant all four paws touched dirt, she was off again.
Somewhere during the next lap, the novelty of what her body could do began competing with something else.
The forest wasn't the same anymore.
Jamie had noticed the heightened senses back at camp, but racing through the trees made the difference impossible to ignore. The darkness that had felt threatening before now seemed filled with information. Her ears tracked rustling leaves and tiny movements in the brush while her nose caught scents she couldn't begin to identify.
More importantly, she could tell that some of those scents belonged to living things.
There were animals everywhere.
Most were small. Jamie caught the frantic movement of something rabbit-sized fleeing through the undergrowth well before she came anywhere near it. Another scent led to scratching beneath a fallen tree. Birds shifted in branches overhead as she passed, and more than once she detected something moving through the darkness without ever actually seeing it.
Jamie didn't chase any of them. She wasn't hungry, and terrorizing the local wildlife just because she'd suddenly acquired the equipment for it seemed rude.
Then she smelled something considerably larger.
Jamie slowed.
The scent was stronger than the others and distinctly animal, carrying enough weight that some new instinct immediately categorized it differently.
Not prey.
Potential competition.
Curiosity won.
Jamie followed the scent through the trees, keeping her pace easy as it grew stronger. She heard movement ahead and angled toward it until a large shape finally appeared between two trunks.
A dire wolf.
Jamie recognized the oversized canine immediately. It was considerably larger than any normal wolf she'd ever seen on Earth, with heavy shoulders and enough muscle to make the name dire feel entirely justified.
The wolf saw her at almost the same moment.
Both predators stopped. Jamie stared at the wolf. The wolf stared at Jamie.
Oh, hey.
The dire wolf apparently had a very different reaction.
Its ears flattened. It took one quick step backward, turned, and disappeared through the trees at a dead sprint.
Jamie blinked. In a fight, the dire wolf probably had the advantage, but Jamie guessed it wasn't in the mood to risk getting hurt taking down something that wasn't worth the trouble. The wolf had been looking for a risk-free meal, and Jamie was clearly not that.
She hadn't even growled at it. The wolf had simply taken one look at her, said nope, and gone about its business.
Crap, I forgot to cast Analyze before losing sight of it, Jamie realized too late.
Was it tamable?
That was an interesting thought.
Note to self: scan furry doggie next time.
Jamie could definitely see having one of those as a familiar. A dire wolf would be a huge upgrade to the team. She still wanted the dragon, obviously, but who knew when—or even if—that opportunity would come around.
Earlier today, practically everything in this forest had seemed capable of putting Jamie on the menu. Now at least one of its larger predators had taken a look at her and decided she wasn't worth the trouble.
Jamie turned back toward camp and started running again.
Or at least that was what she told herself.
She took another lap.
Then found another tree she wanted to climb.
Then discovered that if she got enough speed before jumping onto a fallen trunk, she could run several steps along its length, launch from the end, land in a slide, and keep going.
Somewhere in there, ten minutes quietly died.
Jamie didn't notice.
By the time she finally decided she'd had enough and followed Ember's scent back toward camp, twenty-five minutes had passed.
The fire appeared through the trees first. Jamie bounded over the same fallen log she'd cleared earlier, slowed as she entered the campsite, and immediately discovered that Ember had not spent those extra fifteen minutes sharing Jamie's enthusiasm.
The little Kitsune stood beside the fire.
Her yam had been abandoned.
Her ears were forward, her body tense, and the moment Jamie appeared, relief visibly washed through her.
It lasted perhaps two seconds.
Then Ember looked annoyed.
You said ten minutes.
Jamie stopped.
Did I?
Ember stared at her.
Right.
She had.
Sorry. I kind of lost track of time.
You were gone.
There was enough worry underneath the irritation that Jamie's amusement disappeared.
I'm sorry, Ember. Really. I should've come back when I said I would.
Ember's ears lowered slightly.
I thought something happened to you.
That landed considerably harder.
Jamie walked closer and sat in front of her.
Nothing happened. I was just having fun. I found out I can run really fast, jump over things, climb trees—and I found a dire wolf.
Ember's ears snapped upright.
A dire wolf?
Yeah.
And you did not come back?
Jamie considered that.
Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds worse.
It is worse.
Jamie couldn't really argue with that.
I'm sorry. Next time, ten minutes means ten minutes.
Ember studied her for another moment before apparently deciding the apology was acceptable.
Change back now, please.
Jamie's whiskers twitched. There was that word again.
Okay. Okay. I'm changing back.
Jamie started to focus on her Dryad form, then stopped.
Wait.
What exactly had happened to her clothes?
She'd been so excited about successfully transforming that she hadn't given it much thought at the time. Her dress had simply disappeared along with the rest of her when she'd become a puma. The same went for the forest-green undergarments she'd been wearing beneath it.
Jamie knew the clothes weren't lying around the campsite. She'd certainly noticed that much during her twenty-five-minute joyride.
So where were they?
And, more importantly, were they coming back?
Jamie had already burned one Shapeshifting attempt by ignoring the instructions. She wasn't making that mistake again.
Okay, Jamie thought firmly. Help menu. Again.
The system complied.
Shapeshifting — Equipment Handling
Equipped and carried items are absorbed into the form during transformation
Items are stored in a sub-spatial state tied to the user
Items are fully restored upon reversion
Items cannot be accessed while transformed unless a compatible skill is unlocked
Note: Equipment safety is guaranteed.
Jamie relaxed immediately.
Oh, thank God, she thought. I really didn't want to run around this forest in the buff every time I used Shapeshifting.
Ember's tail flicked with amusement.
That would have been strange, she sent.
There was a brief pause while Ember apparently gave the matter serious consideration.
Dryads do not have fur. Yes. Inappropriate.
Jamie stared at her.
Glad we're on the same page.
Satisfied that she wasn't about to reappear naked in the middle of camp, Jamie focused on her Dryad form.
This time, she knew what to expect.
Mana spread throughout her body, and the now-familiar pressure returned. Her feline frame began to stretch upward as paws lengthened into hands and feet, her hind legs straightened beneath her, and her spine pulled her back toward an upright stance. Tawny fur receded into skin, her muzzle retreated, and her tail shortened until the strange awareness of having one vanished altogether.
As Jamie's Dryad form returned, so did everything she'd been wearing when she transformed. Her forest-green undergarments reappeared exactly where they belonged, followed almost immediately by the familiar softness of her white dress settling around her body.
A few moments later, Jamie stood beside the fire looking exactly as she had before becoming a puma.
She glanced down and ran both hands over her dress.
“Huh.”
Everything was there.
Jamie checked the rest of the campsite. Her boots were still beside the bedroll, while her armor, sword, wand, and rucksack remained exactly where she'd left them before transforming.
So the Help menu had been literal. Anything equipped or carried went with her. Anything she left behind stayed behind.
That was going to be useful.
Very useful.
A final chime sounded.
✅ Transformation Acquired
Form: Puma
Status: Locked
Additional Slots Unlock at Level 10
Jamie stared at the notification.
Puma.
Hers permanently.
After everything she'd just experienced—the speed, the jumping, climbing trees, smelling half the forest at once, and watching a dire wolf decide it had somewhere else to be—Jamie was more than satisfied with her choice.
She dismissed the notification and looked toward her bedroll.
Now maybe she could finally get some sleep.
Sleep came fast the moment Jamie's head hit the bedroll. Her cloak was snug enough to keep out the night's chill, and her only remaining concern had been figuring out who would take the first watch.
As it turned out, Danger Sense never slept.
That solved the problem rather neatly. Unless one of the few creatures capable of somehow slipping past Ember's warning system happened to be nearby, there was no reason for either of them to stay awake half the night keeping watch.
For good measure, Jamie had asked one more time if anything capable of getting past Ember's Danger Sense lived in this part of the forest. Ember had confidently assured her that nothing like that was anywhere nearby. Apparently, those kinds of creatures preferred hiding in lakes, and the closest lake Ember knew about was more than a four-day walk from here.
That was all Jamie needed to hear.
For the first time since waking up in this world, there was nothing else she needed to figure out tonight. No status screens to study, no new abilities demanding to be tested, no monsters to fight, and no unopened Christmas presents hiding in the skill menu.
Jamie relaxed.
Really relaxed.
Within minutes, she was asleep.
And as Jamie dreamed, she dreamed of the Goddess.