November 3, 1998    8:00 PM  CST

     I got out of the car, took a moment to stretch the tired muscles 
from the long drive, and took a long, ghostly look at the modest house in 
front of me, the tears continuing to flow down my eyes.  In another time 
and place, if the fates had even bothered to deal us some _normal_ cards, 
I would have called this place home.  When I left two years previous on 
less-than-cordial terms, the place was in the middle of being built.  At 
first, pride kept me from this place, then...shame.

     Nobody expected the revenge to happen.  After all, they were just 
fictional characters, not really real.  Meeting Ranma in a coffeehouse is 
not something you would normally expect to have happen on an ordinary 
night.  

     Then things started to turn.  Somehow, the anime characters had 
found their way here, to their "puppet masters", and they were not 
pleased.  Everyone should have been running for the hills when Scott 
reported his run-in with Akane and Ranma.  

     I had been the next one.  Looking back on it, I was fortunate; I had 
been granted a two-week chance to get a girlfriend and get out of the 
fanfic writing business - far more than any of the others, like poor Wing, 
had been given.  In reality, though, it was no chance.  The two weeks 
passed by quickly, with several dates, but nothing solid.  The spectre of 
the curse loomed over me, especially with what happened to Stormwalker 
and Starlight.  Now that was strange, seeing two old friends, inseparably 
close, now changed into fiancee and fiance rather than fiance and 
fiancee.  

     On the fourteenth day...

     The first thing I remember is...cold.  I woke up, feeling the 
dampness of my blankets and sheets, accompanied by a sinking feeling that 
the dampness was accompanied by something else.  To this day, I bless 
whatever deities decided to have me wake up in total darkness, rather 
than the glare of light.  Knowing, I stood up, noting the lightness of my 
new form, realizing it to be the only reason for the sensations.  My 
hands reached out, touching my naked form in areas, an uncontrollable, 
primal shudder going through me as each touch brought alien sensations 
and feelings to my mind.  This went on for several minutes, as I noted the 
slight minutae of the slender, delicate hands, the unnatural smoothness 
of my once-weatherbeaten face, the strange sensitivity of my now-ample 
bosom... 

     I went to the bathroom, stumbling through the darkness, and went 
into the shower, turning on the hot water before I could see myself.  A 
tingling sensation, accompanied by some numbness, washed over me as the 
curse washed temporarily away.  I got out, dried my old self off, and 
walked back into the main room, turning on the light.

     On the other bed, now absent since Erik left for who-knows-where and 
Ranma had now obviously gone, a large box with a note lay in waiting for 
me.  I opened the note and read it aloud to myself, burning the damning 
words in my mind, providing more fuel for my revenge.

Dear Nick, 

     While you have clearly tried to start a relationship with a woman 
over the past two weeks, you have failed to start any serious 
relationships.  Judgement is passed.

                                  Ranma.

     I opened the box.  Fury flashed through me as I looked at its 
contents, along with a sinking disgust.  The bakayarou had left me some 
clothing...women's clothing...for me to have, taunting me with my 
recently-acquired femininity.  Not knowing what else to do, and 
needing a catharsis for my anger, I threw the box across the room, 
littlering the already-cluttered dorm room with the offending 
articles.  

     That's when I broke down.  Seeing the...taint...of my curse 
strewn around the room was too much.  I curled up into a ball, crying 
my eyes out at the twist of fate.  It was a few hours before I worked 
up the courage to actually change and look at my cursed form, a 
revelation which nearly knocked me to my knees.      

     When Ranma had said "Spring of Drowned Beautiful Girl", she wasn't 
kidding.  By my own standards, I looked very good, though I didn't 
particularly care at this point.  My hair was the same length and color 
it had been, though it looked longer in comparison to the body, now a 
good six inches shorter.  The body was artfully curved, endowed well 
enough to be proud (if one were to be proud of such things), and nearly 
flawless.  The rough spots, facial hair, and acne scars on my face had 
vanished, leaving only a smooth, almost masklike beauty.  

     The next move was the puzzle.  I had changed; I knew that now, and 
had digested the information in my mind.  The question now was who to go 
to.  To put it bluntly, I couldn't do this alone.

     Stormwalker and Starlight came over about fifteen minutes later, 
both in feminine form.  A strange part of me was glad for that; as a 
girl, I really didn't want to talk to a guy at the moment.  We talked 
about...certain things, hygiene, protection, and other topics of 
discussion that usually make men cringe.  I was pretty much given a crash 
course in womanhood, from clothes to manners to diseases and risks.

     To put it bluntly, ugh.     

     The next couple of weeks passed slowly as I got used to my curse, 
figuring out a few ideas on avoiding getting wet.  I kept a thermos of 
hot water, just in case, so I wouldn't miss any classes.  Eventually, 
though, as Thanksgiving loomed on the horizon, I knew there would be 
trouble.  My parents, quite naturally, expected me to return home for the 
vacation, especially as I had not come back to visit since the semester 
began.  

     As usual, my friends were there, to lend advice.  After all, I 
wasn't the only one dealing with this problem; there were over a dozen 
writers who had been drenched.  Most suggested I tell them, though I 
couldn't concieve of that as an option.  I couldn't face them - not like 
this.  I could already picture the disappointment in their eyes, the 
horror...I...I couldn't stand to see that.

     Eventually, I found a somewhat suitable compromise.  I told my 
brother and sister-in-law, who live nearby, and asked to spend the coming 
holidays with them.  That was difficult enough.  I'd known Martin all my 
life, looked up to him, and was in many ways closer to him than to Mom 
and Dad.  I'll never forget his wide-eyed stare as he saw me change...
While he disagreed with my decision, he went along with it, telling Mom 
and Dad that I had my reasons for my exile.  It was killing me, and 
hurting them, but I couldn't see any other way.

     Time moved on, as did the plans for revenge.  The Anime Liberation 
Front was now far more than a simple Queens University organization, with 
semi-militant branches around the world, interconnected by our common 
problems and horrors.  Chris, now trapped in the Skeride body, worked 
hard to keep the diverse groups communicating together, while somehow 
coming to grips with her new, permanent self.  Twister and a few others 
had come up with a time-skewed training facility, and the other sections 
of the Front (including the Texas branch) began to prepare for the fight 
to come.  That old t-sipper Wyrm had apparantly gotten revenge on the 
Ranmaverse for their crimes, but I was still unconvinced.  After all, it 
had been a parallel-universe version of Ranma which had changed (I use 
the word so freely now) me.  For all we know, there might be an infinite 
number of Ranmas, or at least one for each of the stories we've done.  

     The pocket universe/training facility came in very handy as time 
wore on.  When I wrote, I...sensed...something, like some power flowing 
within me.  Thanks to several decades spent in there, I now know what 
it is.  Call it what you will - Magic, the One Power, the Force, 
the Quickening - it all means the same thing.  It's called using your 
soul to do some really freaky stuff.  The Force is probably the closest 
analogy I can come up with to it - it's a matter of using every aspect 
of my being, whichever being I may be at the moment, and subtly using it 
to manipulate energy and matter, moving it around at will.  With it, I 
can throw ki-blasts to bring Herb to shame, move objects around with a 
thought, teleport through space, and channel my mind to make contact with 
any other living being, allowing me to share its thoughts and converse 
with it.  About the only thing I can't do is cure the curse.

     Earlier, I recieved a message, so simple, yet so powerful.  I was 
forced to read it several times, absorbing the meaning slowly in my 
head.  


     To All ALF Members:

     Important meeting, midnight (EST) tonight.  It's time.

     Skeride


     I'm not in it for a cure to my curse anymore.  "Because...as much 
as my natural form...this is who I am.  And there is _nothing_ I can do 
about it."  I wrote those words months before my curse, long before I 
discovered the subtle truth in them that applied to myself.  I have 
lived and worked in my other form for so long that there is no 
separating me from her.  But, I can and will make them pay for the pains 
of bringing her into being.  Because of them, I lost about every shred of 
confidence I had left, a confidence only renewed through the discipline of 
my studies.  I spent two years away from my family, asking them to stay 
away from my college graduation, missing my sister's graduation, and not 
being able to see the joy in my parents' eyes as they saw my brother's 
child, their grandson, for the first time.  

     That is why I have returned tonight, to tell them after all this 
time...and to tell them I love them, just in case I don't make it.  
There are no guarantees, no assurances that I'm coming back from this 
one.  My personal adversary is perhaps the strongest of the Ranmas, with 
the fire of youth mixed with the wisdom of Cologne.  In other words, my 
victory is by no means assured.      
     
     I pray they can forgive me for what I have done...for I cannot 
forgive myself.

***************************************************************************
             
Nicholas Leifker
"Nightelf"
October 3, 1996