The pastures stretched broad under the steely, overcast sky, the barns and nearby house dark. I sniffed the air, smelling only cold, earth, and wet grass, the warm scent of the animals more like a distant dream on the breeze. Good. Hopefully I wasn’t here too close to morning, the last thing I wanted was to be discovered by someone popping in for chores. I tip-toed over the cold grass towards the nearest barn, still feeling the novelty of walking around on all fours, and still reveling in how right that felt. This had to work, right? Fully transformed or not, I was a unicorn now, an alicorn, really, wasn’t I?

I shivered in the chill April pre-dawn, the new-sprouted feathers on my developing wings prickling as they attempted to fluff out against the cold, my barely-adequate, mostly grown-in layer of fur obviously a sleek summer coat, and nowhere near appropriate for the penetrating, damp cold of early spring. I traced a still-developing forehoof over the frigid, springy wet grass, grateful we at least hadn’t had a frost tonight. I might need to come up with some sort of clothing after all–at least a blanket, or maybe some sort of cloak. It was still early in the year to start living outside in this area, where I had apparently decided to stay after all, instead of following my original plan of “run away from everything ever and go find some nice forest somewhere to vanish into”. The weather couldn’t be counted on to be clement in this area until at least late May…which was another reason I hadn’t originally intended to stay.

But apparently I wasn’t the only person to impossibly transform, and…I wasn’t ready to just leave if…if I might be able to find more of us. I snorted in disgust. At the very least I wouldn’t be running away and abandoning any other part-transformed people I found. Unlike a certain fancy asshole.

The cold had kept me awake, despite the nest of blankets I’d hauled out to the nook of the forest preserve I’d claimed, but it was my own restlessness that had brought me to a local equine vet’s rehabilitation clinic tonight. A swirling power thrummed in my chest and forehead, and I had a horn already, didn’t I? Maybe I could use it? And where better to try out a possible nascent healing ability than a vet’s? Ears pricked, I put my sharpened hearing to work–I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out at three AM, but I wasn’t going to bank on them not being around, either. Once I was as certain as I could be that the night was quiet and empty, I slunk up to the nearest barn.

My heart thrumming with nerves, I took a step forward, and froze again at the sound of my mostly-hoof striking the concrete skirt around the barn. I waited a long, long moment, wishing I’d had the forethought to find some sort of cloth to muffle my hooves. Even though the still-transforming appendages still had some vestiges of my former hands, the clacking sounds of my cloven hoofsteps were distinct. But no lights flicked on, no voices rang from the house. I shook the mane along my lengthening neck. Maybe I was being jumpy for nothing?

Gathering myself, I ghosted as silently as possible across the concrete, the large, hanging barn door towering over me. I nosed at the side, pressing a foreleg against it to see if I could roll the door open. It wasn’t locked–one of the barns I’d grown up visiting had used a hook and eye bolt for that purpose–and with a bit of pressure it moved freely enough, but the low rumbling sound of the roller had me bolting in a clatter away and around the corner to hide, letting the door bang against the barn. I winced, ears pinned against my head as I cowered against the stable’s wall, trying not to breathe as I listened for the sound of someone investigating. The moments stretched on, and on…and nothing happened. No door sounds, no voices, no boots on gravel. I sighed carefully, and edged back towards the corner of the barn I’d just darted around. Maybe nobody’d heard. Maybe they thought it was the door banging in the wind. I’d come this far, hadn’t I? I rubbed my forming muzzle against a foreleg. Well, I was here, I might as well. I edged an eye around the corner, still seeing no one.

I crossed the concrete to the tantalizing gap I’d opened, slipping past the hanging door with a sigh. I glanced back. Would it be more likely to raise alarm if I left the door ajar, or if I tried closing it again? Considering my hooves, I decided to risk leaving the door open…there weren’t many good places for me to push the door back open from the inside, and I wasn’t about to risk being trapped in the barn.

Taking another deep breath, I slunk down the aisle, moving as quietly as I could, hoping the door would keep any sound I made inside the barn…and that I was far enough from the house that no one would hear me moving around anyway. The stalls stretched in a neat and orderly line along either side of the aisle. They looked huge from this angle–I was only about two feet or so tall at the shoulders—I’d spent plenty of time in horse barns, but being like this, halfway transformed into an alicorn and walking on all fours…? Nerves shivered up and down my spine, through my new tail and fluffed my nascent wings. It was a heady experience, and put my body’s changes in sharp relief more than anything else I’d experienced yet. I whickered softly to myself and tossed my head, intent on savoring the terrifying experience, refusing to cower from it.

I lifted my nose, scenting not only horses, hay, and bedding, but also pain, antiseptic, blood, medicine...and a human. Horrified, I planted hooves that suddenly wanted to dance with my anxiety, or shy to the side in a surely clattering riot. My tail flagged in my fear, I shouldn’t have come here, what was I thinking?

“Huh?” a bleary voice called out, “Nnn…whu? Mmmph…Janey, was that you, sweetie?”

I stood absolutely frozen, throat clenched tight, tension singing through every part of me, desperate to flee but terrified of drawing even more attention to myself. What if they captured me? What if they kept me, and held me, and I was never free again? I’d worked around horses for most of my life, I knew what horse people could do…

A stall door—one that had been left unbolted, I now saw—slid open, a warm brown face peeking around it, then the woman’s eyes lit on me and her sleepy expression vanished. Horror bloomed in each of us, me at being seen, and her presumably at my in-between form. I scrambled back, intent on fleeing, my mostly-hooves skittering and clacking against the concrete aisle. I tried to wheel and bolt away, but lost my footing on the unyielding concrete and crashed to the ground, cracking my chin painfully on the hard floor, a startled squeal ripping its way out of me. I scrambled to try and stand again, and warm arms locked around my hips.

“No!” the woman exclaimed in a firm voice, “Stay!” With a grunt, the human lady lifted me off my hooves, her arms locking around my chest and waist.

I squealed again and redoubled my efforts, thrashing against her strong grip, but she held me fast, angling me expertly across her body so as to be out of reach of my striking kicks and held too tight for me to bring my horn to bear. I wrenched my whole body against her grip to no avail.

“Janey! JANEY!” she yelled towards the door.

I bit her arm for her troubles, and she shouted in anger in response, but her arms didn’t loosen. She did bite my ear, though.

So I was screaming in pain and fear when the second woman stormed into the barn with terror on her face, “Lizzie!?”

The woman who held me finally released my ear, though her arms were still tight as steel around my torso, “Janey! Thank goodness! Help me with this little scoundrel!”

I whinnied a shout and tossed my head, still flailing wildly, trying to find some not-pattern that she wouldn’t acclimate to so I could break her grip.

“Good Lord! What is that thing!?” the second woman exclaimed as she edged closer, leaning back from my flailing mostly-hooves.

‘Fuck you!’ I screamed inside myself, alongside my verbal, equid scream. I strained to escape my captor, my small, still-ineffective wings writhing between us, ‘Let me go!’

“Oof! What was that!?” my captor exclaimed.

I screamed again, redoubling my thrashing, ‘Let me GO!’

The woman in front of me gaped. “Was that…you?” my captor panted in my ear.

I thrashed some more, my own breath coming in hot, fast blows.

“Listen, whatever-you-are! Can you talk?”

‘No, of course not,’ I thought to myself, accidentally softening. I hadn’t been able to make human sounds for the past two days, and didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. Didn’t really want it to change either—I didn’t like the looming threat of being so isolated, but the idea of reverting back to human put even more dread in my gut. I shook my concerns aside, realizing I had stopped fighting, and hung limply in the woman’s arms as she gaped at me. I struggled again, and was rewarded by rushing to the ground this time, jolting hard on all four hooves. I bounded away, the second woman leaping from my path.

“STOP!” the first woman cried, as I slid to a halt in front of the now-closed door. I frantically banged on it with my forehooves, too worked up to come to an actually useful, methodical approach. “WE CAN UNDERSTAND YOU!” the woman yelled, and I almost ignored her. I glanced back at the pair, and comprehension crested inside me.

I stopped struggling with the door, turned to keep my hindquarters squared against it, and stared the two women down. The first, the one who’d manhandled me, was shorter and rounder, a black woman with her hair bound up in a silk headscarf and wearing warm, red flannel pajamas. The second woman was tall and lean-muscled, her steel grey hair in a long braid trailing down her back, wearing a violet tank top and grey pajama pants, her feet crammed into old muck boots.

“What the hell are you!?” the taller woman demanded.

“Janey!” my captor chastised her, “It’s okay, sweetie, we won’t hurt you. Can I get a good look at you, hon?”

I shook my mane, snorting, What did this person mean “she understood me?” How? I cocked my head, ‘You…can you hear me…like this?’

She nodded frantically, “Yes! Yes we can, sweetheart! Oh, hon! What’s happening to you?”

I kept my rump pressed against the barn door, if worse came to worst I could probably push the hanging door back far enough to escape. ‘How can you hear me? What are you?’

Both women blinked at me, lost, “We’re human,” the taller lady replied icily, “What are you?”

I tossed my head, setting my hooves, and trying to ignore how awkward both movements still were in my partially changed body, ‘I’m…apparently I’m becoming a unicorn, an alicorn. Somehow.’

That didn’t appear to alleviate any of their confusion. “Do you know how, sweetheart?” the first woman asked.

I shook my head, ‘I just started transforming the other day, I don’t know what caused it, or how. I don’t even think I’m done yet.’ I hoped I wasn’t done yet. My body was still a hella awkward combination of human and unicorn, my neck almost human-short and my torso still far more human than unicorn. My arms and legs were more forelegs and hind legs than anything else, and my fingers and toes had paired off and merged with only slight signs they used to be more separate, my nails having spread, thickened, and developed into crystalline, emerald green hoof capsules. But the changes had been slow enough that I was measuring them by their progress, not piecemeal, as they crept through my body. I pulled myself up defiantly, I wasn’t going to cower from what I really was. What, I truly believed, inside I had always been.

The shorter woman looked down at me with profound pity, but the other woman’s face darkened, and she took a step forward. My forehead sparked, and I lowered my head in challenge. “Lizzie…” she said.

“Stop that, Janey! Don’t scare the poor thing!”

“Lizzie, you’re the vet, here. What if he’s sick. You don’t know how contagious this might be.”

“Oh, as if something like this could be explained by a mere pathogen!”

Carefully, I slid my weight back, hoping to slip out the door while they argued.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lizzie demanded imperiously.

‘Umm…’

“Well, if you’re here with us, I assume there’s a reason. Let’s see it!”

‘What?’

“Sweetie, there’s only one reason to show up on a vet’s doorstep in the middle of the night. Where’s your emergency?” she eyed me suspiciously, obviously assuming that I was the emergency in question.

I frantically shook my head, ‘No, no emergency!’

She glared down at me dubiously.

‘No! Really!’ I hesitated, then plunged ahead, ‘I, um…well, since I’m becoming a unicorn now, I thought…I thought I might have…magic, or something, and…and if unicorns can heal like in the lore…I thought I’d come out here and try to practice.’

Two pairs of eyes stared down at me, apparently surprised by my answer. I shuffled uncomfortably under their regard. It seemed obvious to me, anyway. Healing was never the first power I’d pick, I always would have opted for shapeshifting or speed—though since my default form was changing to something much more in line with what felt right, maybe shapeshifting wasn’t as tempting anymore. But healing would definitely be a hella useful power, if I could do it. And given all the unicorn lore I’d obsessively sought out and devoured throughout my life, it seemed like the most obvious one to check for. Plus, you’d be able to visibly tell if you’d managed to magically heal a wound, wouldn’t you? The other Standard Unicorn Powers were water purification or poison neutralization, and they seemed like something I’d have a bit of a harder time testing out on my own. Maybe if I just stirred up the bottom of a puddle to see if I could clear the murk?

“That’s very noble.” The vet’s voice startled me out of my reverie. “Well, no time like the present!” and she bustled deeper into the barn, clearly expecting me to follow her.

I lowered my head, feeling my ears droop and crowding my hindquarters closer to escape again, torn between my burning curiosity and my terror of being trapped here. The other woman, Janey, apparently, stared me down with hard, brown eyes.

“What’s keeping you two!?”

We both startled at Lizzie’s admonishment. “If you say so, sweetie,” Janey turned her intense gaze back to me, “Get a move on, short stuff. Don’t keep my wife waiting.”

My nascent wings melted back against my sides as some of the tension stringing me tight abated. I danced in place a bit, I knew better than to let my guard down just because the nice, scary ladies were actually nice, scary lesbians…but it did make me feel better. Like they might understand more.

I took a few tentative steps down the aisle, and when the woman, when Janey, didn’t immediately jump me, a few more. She kept pace beside me, as far from me as the width of the aisle allowed, but her presence still loomed threateningly close. I kept an eye on Janey as we followed her mate to the stall she’d stopped at–a different one than she’d been sleeping in.

‘Why were you sleeping in here?’ I had to ask.

“Oh,” Lizzie sighed, “I’m just keeping watch over Prairie over there,” she casually gestured in the direction of the stall she’d been sleeping in, “She’s pregnant, and we’re expecting her to burst any day, now!”

‘Oh. I thought breeders tried to keep foaling as close to January first as possible.’ I was a bit galled I hadn’t taken foal watch into account in my internal risk calculations.

She smiled, “Well, of course we do, sweetie, but that doesn’t mean our mares always cooperate! April’s as close as we could get this time, and that’s fine. Breeding and showing isn’t our primary focus here, and if Prairie’s foal isn’t put together enough to compete in its first halter class, well, that’ll be fine for us.” Her expression stayed friendly, but those green eyes were sharp as they raked over me, “You spend some time around horses, honey?”

I nodded, ‘Started riding when I was eight, and I went to school for Equine Science,’ until I dropped the specialization. I’d ended up with a not terribly useful Animal Science degree, which was why I was a delivery driver now. I chuffed a gentle laugh to myself, shooting a glance at my hooves. Maybe delivery minus driving, now.

“You really like horses, huh?” Janey’s voice cut into my reverie.

I smiled up her, ‘Yeah, I do. It always felt right to be around them.’

“Not gonna be riding much, now, are you.”

I glared, ‘No. But I wasn’t doing that on a delivery wage before this started, either.’

Lizzie sighed, “Be nice, you two. Sweetie–what was your name, again?”

I jerked a bit. I could be called anything now, couldn’t I? I didn’t need to go by my old, hated, human name…not if I didn’t want to. ‘I’m Shine.’ I said, ‘Nice to meet you.’

Lizzie nodded, “I’m Elizabeth, you can call me Liz, and this is my wife, Janey–”

“Call me Steel,” she cut in abruptly.

Liz rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything to that. She gestured towards the stall door, “Here’s the patient you can practice on. You say you have horse experience?”

I nodded.

“Okay then. Just go gently, no loud noises, no sudden movements. He can’t move that well, and he knows it. We’ve made him as comfortable as we can, but he’s still in a lot of pain, and that makes them unpredictable. Just holler if you need anything,” she opened the stall door, and my ears pricked. A hoof, much larger than mine, shuffled against the shavings, and the tangy scent of blood wafted to me.

I glanced at Liz and Steel, dubiously. But there was definitely a horse in there. They could still be trying to trap me in the stall…but they’d have to pull him out eventually, and I would probably be able to slip out then if that were the case. As long as they didn’t drug me, or something. I flicked my tail uncertainly.

“What are you waiting for?” Steel demanded.

‘How do I know you’re not gonna try to trap me?’

They both looked startled at the idea. “Sweetie…” Liz started.

“You really think that low of us?” Steel’s voice was sharp.

‘I don’t know you!’ I retorted with a squeal, stomping a hoof.

Steel stared down at me, coldly, while Liz looked thoughtful. She knelt down in front of me.

“Honey, your knees!” Steel objected.

Liz waved her off, “You must be very scared, sweetheart.”

I hadn’t realized I was backing away from them. I stopped my hooves, and nodded.

“It’s going to be okay. I know you don’t have any reason to trust us, yet. But we’d like to help you.”

I eyed her, trying to get a feel for her sincerity.

“It was very brave of you to come here. And I really like your idea of trying to test out if you have some new powers to go with…with all this. And you coming out here to see if you can heal these animals says a lot for your character. Tell you what, sweetie? We’ll leave the stall door open while you try. Janey and I will even go all the way across the aisle, where you can keep an eye on us. Does that sound okay? We’ll stay well clear of the door, so we can’t shut you in.”

I wanted to trust this lady. I wasn’t sure if it was that I was so alone and desperate I was grabbing at straws, or just that I liked them, or if some new unicorn instinct was trying to tell me they were okay…but I wanted them to be okay. After a long moment, I nodded.

Liz smiled gently, holding her hands up in sign that she would stay clear of me. Steel helped her to her feet, and they moved around me, to the far side of the aisle. I couldn’t help but keep them in my sight. I edged to the yawning chasm of the dark stall, ears flicking between the human ladies and the stall’s inhabitant, my nose searching for danger. I crossed the threshold, stepping into the wood shavings bedding the stall.

The horse inside towered over me, my eye level was in line with the top of his forelegs. He didn’t pay me any mind, standing in the stall with his head low, staring at nothing, with tremors occasionally running over his skin, as if it were a hot day and he were trying to stave off the flies. That didn’t seem particularly good. I chuffed, gently, to make sure he knew where I was. A large bandage adorned his rump and thigh, and I edged over to that leg. Glancing at him, I reared up on my hind legs and placed my horn on the bandage…and felt nothing. Swishing my tail and returning to all fours, I moved my horn to rest against his fur under the gauze and tape, instead. That felt less…muffled, but still, nothing happened. Glancing at the gelding to make sure he seemed unlikely to move in the next few moments, I closed my eyes and focused. I had to be able to feel something, didn’t I?

I breathed deep, my attention wholly on the horse. A faint tickle of awareness…he was…alive. My sense of him felt distant, and fuzzy. He was right there, but…it felt like something was missing. I pulled my horn away and shook my head, frustrated. But I wasn’t willing to give up, yet. I pressed my horn to his thigh again, refocusing. This time I prodded at the whirling power inside me, but it felt…it didn’t feel right. Or rather, it didn’t feel like there was anything for it to do. Everything felt fine. But it obviously wasn’t. This horse was clearly in pain. I could see it, I could smell it rolling off him. I lashed my tail in frustration, startling the gelding. I nuzzled him in apology, and turned back towards the stall door.

They could’ve snuck up on me at any time, but Liz and Steel were still on the far side of the aisle. They hadn’t moved from where I’d left them. ‘Um…I don’t seem to be doing anything. I don’t know if I should try without the bandages in the way, or not.’

The vet pursed her lips in thought, “I suppose we can take the opportunity to change his bandages. It’s a shame that we finally got them to stick.”

I shook my head, ‘Let’s not, then, I know how much of a pain it is, and I don’t think I can do any good, anyway.’ I sighed, ‘Maybe I’m just not changed enough yet, or maybe it’s not something I can do, after all.’

Liz looked at me a long moment, “...Alright then, if you say so. But I want you to start coming around to practice. If you do figure out how to heal my patients…well, I think I’ll have a job for you.”

I nodded slowly, ‘Duly noted. Thanks.’ I contemplated her for a moment, my eyes flicking up to the poor, miserable gelding, then back to her. I left the stall, ‘Hey…um, maybe I should look at getting vet care from you, myself? Get on a vaccine regimen? I don’t really want to end up with equine encephalitis, or something.’

She smiled gently, crossing the aisle to close the horse back into his stall, “Of course, sweetie. I’d be happy to take you on.”

I lifted a mostly-hoof, and we shook on it.

I have a Patreon! Join up to see pages early!