Victoria flicked through her closet back to front, shaking her head as she just couldn’t find “the one” for that night. It was not that she lacked for exciting options, but nothing she hadn’t worn before, nothing new, nothing that hadn’t just become… banal. Sex had just become repetitive at this point, and try as she might she just couldn’t find herself in the spirit.
Then, as she shook one of her stockings, she stared incredulously as she heard something tumbling around inside of it. She turned it inside out and hummed with perplexity as she produced a ring of solid gold, shaped and hammered into the shape of twining branches budding new leaves of oak, ash, willow and hawthorn. Sitting at keystone arch of the torc was a thumb sized, multifaceted emerald. If it was real, that stone also might be worth more money than Victoria ever had in her life.
She held it up to the light, regarding how it caught the sunlight. On a lark, she shrugged and fit it around her neck. The moment she did, the gem lit up with an internal light, as though a shining candle burned within. Try though she might to take it back off, she was soon distracted to find her dress and jacket gone in a billowing mist surrounding her frame. She watched as a gossamer gown resembling a toga wrapped around her, clasped on her body by the torc. The loose fabric was accommodating to her assets as well. Her breasts stood firmer and larger, one teat exposed to the air. The dress split high at the thigh, displaying long, sculpted legs.
More pressing was the flesh itself, pink skin suddenly turning a woodsy green complexion, soft to the touch and yet hardened like tree bark. By now Victoria was swept up in the spell, one finger running up her exposed leg, pushing past the fabric. She gasped as she teased the folds of her womanhood, a mantle of newly bloomed leaves sprouting from her shoulders. Her ears turned upward as her hair lifted up around her in defiance of gravity. It braided itself together with wildflowers that weren’t there a moment ago, turning from black to dark forest green. Her hair fell back down her back again, but now appeared perpetually tussled by a directionless breeze.
Velistia, the Vernal Queen of the Spring set her bare feet on the floor. Her new true name kept close to her chest like a treasured secret. She surveyed her surroundings through new eyes, and found them wanting. But she shrugged indifferently. She had nothing but time to prevail over this mundane plane. Right now, she was taken by the spirit of the moment, she was the embodiment of rebirth and renewal, of growth and hope. She looked forward to sewing her first seeds in the world.