Delsanra Yesthana

I awoke in a soft silky smooth bed.

Touching my forehead I felt the sticky warm blood dripping down my face. I couldn't move, and yet I was calm. My eyes darted around the room. It was cute, little carved wooden figures set on hand crafted wooden bookshelves. In fact almost everything in the room was made of wood or vines. Besides the carpet, bedsheets, and mattress everything else looked like something pulled straight from a fantasy novel.

Above the giant round silk bed, in the center of the room, a chandelier hung with 4 bright circular orbs lit the room. I breathed while staring into the light.

After a moment, a sharp pain went through my skull and my body sprung up, but my head was pinned to the bed. It was then I finally noticed the blade sticking out from the top of my head.

It seemed to have been hanging above my head before it fell and hit my head. Thankfully it seemed to have bounced quiet a bit out of it since I could start sliding it out. It took all my strength, I felt so much weaker now than the night before in my apartment.

After quit a bit of fighting the blade it dropped to the floor, the blood staining the bed and the floor.

"Aaagh!" It finally set in the danger I was in. My wound was open and I couldn't believe I was still breathing and thinking.

Instinctively I grabbed my forehead but something strange happened when I looked at the blood in my hands. The blood was slowly disappearing. When I felt my cut again, I noticed the damage was slowly healing as well.

"What the hell?" I thought aloud.

Looking at the floor the blood on the blade, carpet, and wooden floor were gone. I touched my forehead again and felt my smooth clear skin.

I sighed feeling relieved I was alright. I fell back onto the pillow my head had been resting on. I went to turn when I felt my ear fold up. My own ear felt so big, maybe the sword messed with my brain.

Wait.

Sword?

In that moment everything clicked. Why did I have a sword in my room? Why did my room look straight from some cozy fantasy story? I touched my forehead again. Then my ears, feeling how pointy they were. I got up and ran to the mirror sitting in the corner of my room.

When I gazed into the mirror I was confronted by the naked petite feminine shape of a young elf boy. I only knew I was a boy due to my flat chest and small penis. I could be no more than 19 but my new memories began to form telling me I was just a month away from my 19th birthday.

...

Delsanra Yesthana, that was his name. A young elf boy who grew up in a large elvish town named Yesta, not far from the Elven Capital E'Elthas. He was an aspiring healer having just become a man nearly a year earlier he had joined the University of Elvish Healing. A very straightforward name yes, but one of only 4 of it's kind.

It was nearly winter now, Finals approaching. Unlike other universities, this one could be completed in a year. The Universities more focused on Magic took anywhere from 4-10 years of study and combat schools were often 2-4 since most combat specialists started training from a younger age. Plus a swordsman retired much earlier than a wizard, but a wizard was a much harder title to earn.

A Healer on the other hand was a job clouded in indeterminants. Meaning no one really knew the life expectancy of a healer. They were popular but the more difficult the challenge the less likely healers were around. Great healers tended to become good wizards and a great wizard tended to have the capability to use the highest of healing magic. Not only was healing magic spells easy for new magic users, they also had a strange cost ratio. The stronger healing spells were very rare yes, but those great healers were very rare since it's very useful to have a healer that can heal poison and multiple men at once but when most fights ended as fast as they begun, it was hard to justify producing more than a baseline of healers. So Healers were seen as lesser in the eyes of many adventurers, resulting in less resources to seek a higher education in the field.

"Why couldn't I have been transmigrated into a cool wizard or something!?"

My name was Asa, I was 19 when I got transmigrated. I was very upset with the circumstances I found myself in. I had read and dreamed that if transmigration was real, I would find myself taking over the life of a strong knight who's holy magic helped me vanquish demons. Or a wizard who could destroy mountains with a single wave of a staff. But no, I was a short 5'4 femboy with no muscle or special magic to speak of.

It was nearly the middle of the semester and Delsanra had only made two friends, much less than I made when I was Asa. Their names were Rophalin and Vaeril, both elves and funnily enough both strong and tall muscular warriors. Vaeril was a calm and focused male archer who was great at close quarters combat with a knife but preferred to deal with monsters from long range.

Rophalin was a brash and headstrong swordswoman who often ran into battle, even mock battles.

I looked at the clock sitting on the nightstand.

"Oh shit! He has to meet with Vaeril in 30 minutes!" I said. "Wait, I mean I have to meet him in 30 minutes."

I sighed and opened the closet. In it was a display of cute elvish attire, and even some more human inspired clothing. I saw the skirts and shook my head. "I know now the elvish community is much easier on gender fluidity in this world but I am not wearing a skirt." I grabbed a pair of brown shorts, a white shirt, a green white cloak and slipped on the only shoes out which were thigh high boots with slight lifts.

I wabbled a bit as my mind and body were still adjusting to becoming one. My breathing became heavy. "These boots are so tight on my legs, they are squeezing my thighs." I could feel my stomach start forming butterflies. "What is wrong with me." I loosened the boots and walked out my door.