Chapter 2 Hazel Fairweather

I opened my eyes and screamed. A white fluffy cat sat right on my chest, licking my face and purring so loud it sounded like a tiny engine. Soft fur brushed my cheek again and I jumped, pushing myself up so fast the cat tumbled to the side with a soft meow.

“Whoa, okay, okay, I’m awake!” I said, my heart still racing. I pressed a hand to my chest and took a few slow breaths. “It’s just a cat. Just a cat. You’re fine.”

The cat looked at me with big round eyes and started purring again, rubbing its head against my arm like it had known me forever. I stared at it for a moment, then slowly looked around the room for the first time.

Everything felt strange. The bed I had been lying on was made of dark wood and looked very old. The furniture around me was the same, heavy, carved, and nothing like the simple things I used to own. A small shelf against the wall held a few old books. On a table near the window sat little objects that glowed softly and didn’t look ordinary at all.

I looked back at the cat. It climbed into my lap again and kept purring, pressing its warm body against me.

A sudden wave of memory hit me so hard I felt dizzy for a second.

This cat was Puff. Hazel’s pet. I saw little pictures in my mind, a younger girl with long orange hair hugging this same cat, laughing when it chased a ball of yarn across the floor, falling asleep with it curled on her stomach. The memories felt warm and soft, like they belonged to someone else but still sat inside me.

I closed my eyes and waited until the dizzy feeling faded.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “I can do this. One step at a time.”

I gently moved Puff to the side and stood up. My legs felt steady enough. I walked toward a tall wardrobe in the corner and pulled the doors open.

Beautiful clothes filled every space. Long dresses in soft colors, skirts that looked like they belonged in a fairytale, and corsets that reminded me of the ones people wore only for fun at parties. Everything looked new, like no one had ever worn them.

I reached out and touched the soft fabric of a pale blue dress. More memories came. A kind man with gentle eyes was buying these clothes for a young girl. He smiled as she spun around in a new skirt, happy and excited. That man was Hazel’s father. And then the memory shifted, he was gone. A quiet ache settled in my chest, small but real, like Hazel was still here feeling it with me.

I pulled my hand back and took another slow breath.

“He’s gone,” I said softly. “Hazel’s dad is gone.”

I steady myself again and turned away from the wardrobe. That was when I walked past the mirror.

I froze. Long orange hair fell past my shoulders in soft waves. A beautiful face looked back at me, clear skin, bright eyes, and an elegant shape that felt nothing like the body I used to have.

I lifted a hand and touched the hair.

“Oh.”

I turned my head a little, watching the way the light caught the orange strands.

“Oh, wow.”

I couldn’t stop staring. I looked just like Merida from that Disney movie. The wild orange hair, the face, the whole look. A shocked little laugh slipped out of me.

“I look like Merida,” I whispered. “I actually look like Merida.”

I felt fascinated and a little flattered at the same time. This was me now. Hazel Fairweather. The old me was gone, and this new face was looking back with wide, surprised eyes.

Strange noises drifted in from outside, voices talking, footsteps on stone, and something that sounded like heavy wings moving through the air. I hurried to the window and pushed the curtain aside.

A wooden signboard hung across the street below. The words were clear: Gash Dam.

I leaned closer, eyes wide, and my mouth fell open.

A real dragon walked down the street. Its scales were a deep green, and it carried a big basket of vegetables in its claws like it was the most normal thing in the world. A little further down, a goblin stood arguing with a human merchant, waving his arms while the man shook his head. A wolf shifter in human form ran past with a basket of bread under one arm. A tiny fox-person with bright fur chased a chicken that kept squawking and darting between people’s legs. An ogre walked by carrying a heavy barrel on one shoulder like it weighed nothing.

I stood there completely still, heart beating fast.

“This is real,” I whispered. “All of this is actually real.”

Shock and excitement mixed together inside me until I felt almost dizzy again. Everything looked so alive and strange and wonderful. I felt overwhelmed in the best way. The goddess had been right. This world was full of creatures I had only ever read about in books, and now I was standing right in the middle of it, looking down at them with my own eyes.

I wanted to open the window wider and step outside right then. I wanted to walk those streets and see everything up close.

But then the harder memories came.

I saw Hazel’s father again, smiling the way he had when he bought the clothes. Then a woman with a sharp face appeared, her stepmother. Two girls who looked exactly alike stood beside her. Cyn and Lyn. The twins. I felt the cold way they had looked at Hazel, the mean words they used, the way they pushed her aside after her father died. I felt the loneliness and the small humiliations that had piled up over the years.

I also saw a girl with kind eyes, Isla, Hazel’s best friend, but those memories stayed fuzzy, like they were still settling into place.

I looked down at my arms and noticed small bruises that hadn’t been there a moment ago. A quiet sadness filled me for the girl who used to live in this body.

“She went through so much,” I said softly. “No one should feel that alone.”

The memories didn’t come as one big story. They came in little pieces, through the clothes, the ache in my chest, the way the room felt both strange and a little familiar.

Then a loud voice shouted from downstairs.

“HAZEL!”

I sighed and looked toward the door.

“Right. Evil stepmom.”

I turned back to the mirror and looked at the orange-haired girl staring at me. A small smile pulled at my lips.

“Well,” I said to my reflection, “this won’t be another Cinderella story. But I’m going to say this, Cinderella, your replacement just arrived.”

The voice downstairs came again, sharper this time.

“Now get your butt down here!”