Chapter 3

The Unofficial Sixth Stage: Finding meaning

“You’ve entered the final stage of grief – milking it.”

Benjamin Schwartz

The New Yorker Cartoons, 2025

~DAY SEVEN~

The Unofficial Sixth Stage: Finding Meaning

Isadora’s (May’s) POV

A deep breath of air expanded in my lungs, before a loud, groggy sigh escaped my dry ass lips.

Groaning, I slowly blinked myself awake from a hazy stillness, intimately engaging with the blinding light of day. She has risen– But also, who left those curtains open?

I glanced around the vacant room that had somehow grown familiar to me over the past week. I appreciated moments like this, the calm and quieter ones. When I first arrived in this place, I truly didn’t think I’d be alive now. Every little emotion threw me around internally like whiplash. It was like something terrible had suddenly ignited from within me, like I was quite literally being burned alive from the inside out. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, hell, I could barely even talk.

At least now, the pain is finally at a level I can tolerate. The lingering pit of sadness that’s set up shop in my stomach, is another story entirely. I still didn’t have the slightest clue where I was, and honestly, I was at the point where I didn’t even care. All I knew and cared about was where I had been, because back there on that fucking trail, I fucking died. I got curbstomped like god damn trash in the street and everyone here seems to think I’m insane when I bring it up.

I sat up annoyed. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. The only thing I was truly grateful for was not feeling like I was waking up out of a nightmare each morning. Ugh, speaking of nightmares. I watched as Maisy walked into the room without as much as a ‘hey’, just absolutely nothing. Rude bitch.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone? Yet, here you are again,” I snapped, stretching my arms over my head with a yawn.

“What a delightful creature you are,” She replied simply. She was shuffling through the dresser drawer for something. I rolled my eyes and lay back down on the bed, it was at least comfortable. I’d never had a king-size bed before, hell, I only had a twin at home.

“What should I do with this necklace?” Maisy called out. I sat up to look, propping myself up on my elbows. It was a gold necklace with a small jade pendant at the bottom. I don’t really know about these things, but it didn't look too expensive from where I was sitting.

“Umm, toss it? I don’t know,” I said with the best shrug I could muster in my position.

“Wrong, any idiot will immediately know you aren’t the real Isadora,” Maisy said in a dark tone.

Ugh, that name again- Isadora. They’d been calling me that since I came here, I couldn’t understand it at first, that is until I got in front of a mirror. My appearance had completely changed, or rather my body had. I couldn’t believe it, there I sat, albeit in a frail and sickly state, a breathtaking beauty with stark platinum silver hair, honey colored skin and striking hazel eyes that tinted gold in the sun. I’d thought I’d been kidnapped and forced to have plastic surgery performed so I could be sold off in a human trafficking ring… which ironically sounds less crazy than my soul being swapped into a different body in another world.

“You keep saying that over and over again, like it’s a threat,” I said, my eyes narrowed.

“Oh, calm down, if I wanted to out you, you’d be dead already.” She said, waving off my defensive look and walking over to the bed. I tensed a little as she looked me up and down with those big brown eyes.

I knew I looked different, I mean, the evidence was right there, but in my head, I still simply couldn’t process it. Dying? Soul jumping? No, absolutely not, these are the thoughts crazy people have before the people come to collect them, place them in a locked padded cell, and bury the key somewhere in wet cement. SO, for my own sanity, I opted to ignore my racing thoughts and go with the flow. I let them call me whatever they wanted, it honestly wasn’t like they’d asked me to do anything other than sit here.

“Besides, anyone can tell an unrefined pig like yourself isn’t a noblewoman. Why else do you think I’ve kept you here?” She asked, with a heavy sigh. My jaw dropped.

“Ok, WOW. First off, that’s really fucking rude, Maisy,” I said, sitting up completely. Who says something like that?!

“I must confess, even in this body, your presence does indeed drain the air from a room,” She remarked, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. I honestly hate this cunt.

“Listen, I know that I died or whatev–,” I started. I jumped as she slammed her hand down on the end table beside her, hard.

“You are never to so much as utter those words to anyone ever again, unless you really want to die. Your name is Isadora Alistair of House Alistair, have I made myself clear?” She said, her voice was commanding and harsh. I nodded, sliding away from her on the bed a little. Her dominance was suffocating.

“Now that that’s established,” Maisy started, somehow completely composed. 

“Well, wait, did you come up with a way to fix this yet?” I asked, stopping her short. She stared at me for a while, her head tilting slightly in contemplation.

“About that–,”

DISSOLVE TO:

The Wizards Tower. A highly illegal, black magic soul-swapping sacrifice ritual type thing, taking place in the abandoned lower levels of the Wizards Tower. Isadora’s POV.

My eyes peeled open, as a nauseating sensation settled in my throat, burning. Has it worked? The last thing I remember was ingesting the poison for the ritual. Everything else is just a haze.

“Oh good, you’re awake. You’re honestly adorable when you sleep, even in that body,” I couldn’t turn my head, my eyes scanned within my field of vision to see Narich uncrossing his legs and leaning forward in a chair.

Narich Faywin, a mage of the Wizards Tower and my lover, sat staring down at me with piercing amber eyes that always seemed to hold more light than they should've. His dark black hair styled back from his high forehead allowing the perfect visual of his sharp features, a strong, angular jawline and soft lush lips-

“W-what’s going o–ahh” I started, my head was aching. I tried to cup my forehead, but my arm wouldn’t budge. In fact, my whole body was unresponsive. What the hell was going on?

“Yeaa, paralysis. Nasty side effect,” He said, shrugging.

“What are you doing, Narich?” I asked through gritted teeth as he stood up, taking long strides toward me.

“Dora, you are so much more approachable when you smile–,” He started.

“Narich! What did you do?” I yelled. He stuck his pinky in his eardrum and mouthed ‘ouch’.

“Now now, calm yourself, my sweet Isadora,” Narich said, kneeling down beside me, stroking my hair. I hated the fact that I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to be touched, I wanted to know what was happening to me!

“I have something big planned, but don’t worry, I won't leave you like this,” He said with a smile, leaning in and placing a quick kiss on my lips.

“Narich, stop!” I called out, as he started to walk away, tears of frustration streamed down my face. I tried to move my body to no avail, I was stuck.

“Arrrhhhgggh,” I screamed, as he disappeared through the stone archway.

WIPE TO:

The Alistair countryside estate. Lady Isadora’s bed chamber. A conversation between a ‘noblewoman’ and her ‘maid’. Isadora’s (May) POV.

“–I’m working on a solution,” She replied, not really answering the question.

I stared at her annoyed and confused. When I first arrived in this world, Maisy told me that Isadora made a mistake by bringing me here, but she never said what the mistake was. She just keeps saying that she’s working on a solution, but it’s been a fucking week already.

“Also, this is a family heirloom, you never take off,” She continued, tossing the necklace at me. I barely had time to catch it before it collided with my face. With a huff of annoyance, I undid the clasp on the necklace and put it on.

“Aren’t you like a maid or something? You don’t fucking act like it!” I said, stewing in irritation. Maisy crossed her arms and shot me a disdainful look.

“You seem to be under the impression I take orders from you. Is there some confusion about our respective stations?" Maisy asked, an air of condescending impatience ringing in her voice. Never in my life had I been made to feel so unimportant, by a complete stranger at that.

“I don’t give a damn about your stations! What do you even want from me? You can’t keep coming in here every day and treating me like dirt! I’m not going to stand for that,” I said, shaking with anger.

"Ha, you won’t stand for it? Every fiber in your being screams urchin. How dare you try to command me? You misunderstand your purpose entirely." Maisy shot back. Every one of her insults seems to cut a bit deeper than the last.

“You obviously need me, not the other way around, if not why would I even be here?” I asked.

“How charmingly provincial. Of course, the true reality is, you are every bit as disposable as an insect beneath my heel, so don't flatter yourself into thinking you had other options. Your path ends here, and your only recourse is my involvement, however bothersome I find it,” Maisy said, matter of factly. I didn’t have a retort. She wasn’t wrong, I didn’t have any other options that I was aware of. Masiy was the only one who’d been assisting me from the beginning, without even being asked to do so.

“Get yourself dressed. We don’t have all day,” Maisy said, turning her head away from me, signaling she was done with the conversation. I continued to stare at her, but she simply ignored me and crossed her legs in her chair, and opened a small book. Ugh, my god, she’s insufferable!

I shuffled off the bed and made my way into the closet, although the word ‘closet’ seemed almost insulting to this massive space. I stared in awe at the long rows of cabinets and deep drawers housing countless garments and accessories. A quiet whistle escaped my lips as I ran my fingers along the expensive fabrics.  I had no idea Maisy was getting my attire from the department store. Row after row of beautiful dresses, all of which I had no idea how to put on. Wait, are those real gems? She had dresses adorned with gems?? Jesus, they clearly have money money.

She had everything: dozens of silk gloves stored in flat boxes, hand fans mounted to the walls, silk ribbons, hairpins, and even tiny decorative combs made of ivory. There were even heels of all sizes. I nervously grabbed the most simple looking garment. I had no idea what I was doing, Maisy always brought everything out and helped me get dressed. There wasn’t anything as easy as jeans and a t-shirt in this place.

I sighed, twenty minutes had come and gone and I was no closer to figuring this shit out than when I started. I sat there on the ground naked, various pieces of clothing laid out before me, all with some type of complex tie or closure. I wasn’t even sure what I needed to put on first, but the one thing I was sure of, even though I absolutely hated to admit it, I needed Maisy’s help.

“God damn it,” I mumbled, running my hands through my platinum silver hair.

“Maisy,” I called out reluctantly. I watched as Maisy appeared, arms crossed and shoulders leaning against the arch of the doorway.

“You called?” She asked flatly, eyeing me with clear disapproval. Whether it was because I was naked or because I was sitting on the floor, I didn’t know. I didn’t particularly care at this point, a disapproving stare from Maisy was certainly nothing new. 

“I need help,” I said quietly, looking up at her disapproving eyes.

Maisy walked over, passing right by the clothes I had scattered on the ground and pulled new ones from the hung supply. An elegant but simple pale yellow dress with a few other garments, I didn’t know the names of. She helped me stand up and started dressing me with relative ease.

“They don’t wear proper clothing where you come from?” Maisy asked, phrasing it in a more rhetorical manner than a question.

“No, not like this, I feel like I’m in a play,” I answered truthfully, raising my hand above my head as she slid the dress over my body. I couldn’t help but feel like a child, with an adult helping me get ready for school in the morning.

“I can’t even dress myself,” I commented, with an ironic laugh. Maisy waited a moment before she responded.

“Yes, your situation is laughably pathetic. And yes, it seems, I am the only one with the capacity to salvage it. Try not to waste this singular opportunity with further displays of incompetence,” Masiy said, tightening the bodice of my dress in such a way I thought my ribs were going to crack.

As annoying as she was, she was right. I was in no position to argue, especially considering I was someone who couldn’t even dress herself. It was exactly as she’d said, I didn’t have other options, I needed her and the fact of the matter was the feeling didn’t necessarily go both ways. She was the only one who was capable of helping me navigate this unfamiliar world. If I didn’t stop messing around and accept the help she was giving me, I might really find myself in deep shit.