He was supposed to have been born a girl.

His home world had a shortage of girls, due to generations of favoring sons over daughters, and his parents, the world's ruling lord and lady, had decided early on that finding a husband for a daughter would be much easier than finding a wife for a son. So as soon as it had been confirmed that his mother was pregnant, they had called upon the services of the local mage to perform a spell on their unborn child. If the fetus was female, the spell would do nothing; if it was a boy, it would turn him into a girl. The spell could only work if done early on in the pregnancy. There was no way to change the gender past the fourth month.

The spells were cast, and the mage assured his parents that they were successful; that the son his mother had been carrying was now a daughter. His parents were pleased, and within a few months they announced the upcoming birth of their daughter, Lumaria and began searching for a future husband for her. One was soon found, a young man from the ruling class, and the betrothal was finalized within days. Their daughter would be married as soon as she turned sixteen. All was well, everyone was content.

Until he had arrived in the world, that is.

He had been born during the spring, when the cherry trees were ablaze with delicate pink flowers and the castle gardens awash with color and scent. It had been an easy birth, but the joyous anticipation had given way to disappointment when the attending doctor had held him up, naked and screaming, and announced that his parents were the proud new parents of a healthy baby boy.

There had been shocked and angry denial, and his father had even none to gently wrenched him from the doctors arms and confirmed for himself the awful truth. The spells cast by the mage had failed. Outraged, his father had ordered the man's death, and demanded that girl or boy, the name Lumaria would be used, and that he, their newly born son, would marry the young nobleman on his sixteenth birthday. There were other spells to allow a child to be born to two men after all. Since he was the royal child, it was decided that he should be the one to carry the future heir, and plans were made with another mage in town, but in the meantime, he would be raised to be a proper wife to his future husband.

From then on, Lumaria was trained on how to act like a lady. He wasn't expected to dress like a woman, but his clothes were more of a feminine cut and style than the clothing traditionally worn by boys. He was taught by his mother how to manage the household servants and other things a wife was expected to know. He was expected to keep his eyes properly downcast when addressing a man, especially his father and his future husband. He was required to use a manner of speech much more formal and polite, and his voice always had to be soft and even. Yelling, shouting, or any kind of boisterous behavior saw him confined to his room or worse, laid across his nurse's lap for a spanking.

As he grew, it became apparent that the spells cast on him while still in the womb hadn't been a complete failure. His face was very feminine with high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, lips of the softest pink and creamy skin. His hair, pink like his mother's, was soft and shiny, and his betrothed loved to run his fingers through, whether Lumaria liked it or not. His figure was also more of a woman's with a narrow waist and wide hips, which, it was stated, would make it easier for him to bear a child.

Bearing a child; the thought made Lumaria shudder with fear and revulsion once he was old enough to learn what pregnancy and child birth entailed. He tried to tell his parents that he had no interest in marrying a man and carrying a child, but they would not listen. They would not spend the time, trouble, and money to secure him a wife simply because they were so few girls among the noble families, and all of those were already betrothed or married. Marrying a commoner girl was out of the question.

Distressed and angry at their lack of concern, he fled the castle in tears and ran to the only place he felt at peace, the castle's garden. He had been to the garden many times, when the pressure of being a royal prince(ess) became too much, and fascinated by the gardeners' gentle care and skill, he had begun assisting them in tending to the multitude of flowers and trees that grew there. Since it was considered a womanly pursuit to tend a garden, even if all the castle gardeners were male, his parents permitted it, and garden with its high walls that shielded it from outside eyes became his escape and sanctuary, and he spent every waking moment that wasn't involved in lessons there, allowing the beautiful colors and intoxicating scents to soothe him.

At the age of twelve, his body began to change as he began to grow from a boy into a man. His voice deepened until there was no mistaking that he was indeed male, his shoulders grew broader, and his many hours in the garden saw him put on muscle. He began to grow quickly, but his betrothed complaints that he wanted him smaller than himself, saw him put under spells that halted his growth. He was still taller than all the women in the world, but he was left shorter than most of the men. His revulsion at the mere thought of having to bed a man and carry and bear a child only grew stronger. He hoped beyond all hope that a girl would be born among the noble families so he could be betrothed to someone of the opposite gender, but no girls were born.

When he was fifteen, his betrothal became an official engagement, and the night of his birthday gala saw his betrothed put a ring on his finger, and the inescapable truth of what he was going to be forced to do in a year's time saw him vomit his birthday dinner all himself and the floor. His... fiance and parents had been furious and once he had been cleaned up, his fiance had pushed him face first down onto his bed and delivered a severe whipping, which left him bruised and bleeding from shoulders to knees. He had tried not to cry out but the lashes from the leather strap had only increased in speed and intensity until he had began to sob into his pillow. Crying is what a woman would have done after all.

Once the beating was over and he had been left alone, he had ran out to the garden, unmindful of the blood on his clothes or the fact that his entire body hurt or that his back was on fire. He had to escape, but once he was there, the normally soothing calm did not settle over him, so he kept running and running, not caring what people would think, seeing their prince(ess) running down the street after dark, sobbing in pain and despair, his clothes bloody and torn. He ran out of the town that surrounded the castle, into the gently rolling farmlands, where he collapsed into a ball of misery in a wheat field.

It was there that he met her.

She had come out to investigate the crying coming from her family's fields and had nearly tripped over him in the moonlit night. Their meeting had been awkward; he had never spoken to a commoner before; she had never laid eyes on any of the royal family, but under her gentle questions, he had ended up spilling everything to her; about how the spells on him had only partially succeeded, resulting in a feminine man instead of a girl, about his cradle betrothal, his birthday gala, and his revulsion at having to marry a man and his disgust at being used for a brood mare so the royal family could have its heir. His parents had never been able to conceive again, so he was their only option for continuing the royal line.

She – her name was Dahlia – had listened with soft sympathy, and their friendship had bloomed from there. His parents assumed he was working in the garden, and the gardeners had been kind enough to lie for their young lord's sake, whom they could tell was miserable over what his future held, when he was in fact spending as much time as he could with his new friend. She made him smile and laugh, very little of which he had done in his childhood, and when he had expressed interest in how her family cultivated their crops, she began to teach him what she knew. Come harvest time, she had showed him how to use a scythe, and the two of them spent many hours harvesting the wheat that grew on her family's farm. Once the work was done, she also began to show him how to wield it like a weapon. He had never had more than the rudimentary training with bladed weapons – that was a man's work – but he quickly grew to enjoy their sparring sessions. With Dahlia, he was able to forget the pressure of his position and the looming threat of his impending marriage. He was able to relax and be a boy around her instead of the royal heir, and over time, their friendship began to grow into something more.

The night before his sixteenth birthday and his marriage, he had appeared at their meeting place in the newly planted field distraught. The court physician had sat him down and explained to him the spells that would be used the following day. There were three that would be used; the first would give him the organs and equipment necessary for his husband to impregnate him. He would grow a womb and a vagina, which would be uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. The second spell would be a fertility spell to ensure that he conceived. The third would stabilize the pregnancy and keep the first spell going as he carried the child to term. Regular sexual contact with the child's father would enforce them. Once the baby was born, the spells would end and his body would return to normal until another child was needed. He would spend his wedding night and the pregnancy in bed. Moving around once he had conceived would be too dangerous, for him and his unborn child. The chances of miscarriage and premature birth were always high when dealing with male pregnancy.

Upon hearing that, he had pleaded with his parents one more time to reconsider, but his father had threatened to tie him to the bed and let his fiance have him early if he complained again. Distraught he had sought out the only one who cared about him. Dahlia had listened to him spill everything out, allowed him to cry on her shoulder, and then she had coaxed him into lying down with his head on her lap while she stroked his hair. Once he had calmed enough, he asked the question that shocked them both.

If they could, would she marry him and run away with him?

They both had been shocked at first; she was shocked that he had essentially proposed to her, and he was shocked at his own boldness. A marriage between the royal and a commoner was actually illegal, and both of them could be beheaded for it. After several moments of shocked silence, she had laughed and threw her arms around him and said yes. The two had shared a fiery kiss, not their first kiss, but one that was laden with emotions and passions and lust, and he had gently pushed her down to the ground and under the light of a sudden meteor shower, spent the next hour or so showing her that he was most definitely male.

So wrapped up in their mutual pleasure, neither noticed that anyone was around until a boot had kicked Lumaria off Dahlia. He rolled over onto the soft dirt, winded, and looked up into the enraged face on his intended. The man roughly hauled him to his feet by his hair, only to deliver a punishing punch to his stomach which sent him tumbling to the ground again. He was dragged up by his hair again, tossed over his fiance's shoulder, and carried away as Dahlia, screaming in terror was forced onto her knees in front of members of the royal guards that had followed him.

Lumaria screamed in protest at what was about to happen, but his words were useless as one of the guards took up his sword and beheaded her in one clean stroke. He screamed in rage and denial as his felt his heart shatter into pieces, but his screams and struggles were ignored as the larger and stronger man carried him through town to the castle. Impaled on the iron spikes of the gates were the heads of the royal gardeners, the ones that had lied for him so he could find his bit of peace. Once inside the castle, he was thrown roughly down to the floor in front of his furious parents, while his fiance demanded a partial return of the bride price since he had fouled himself by bedding a commoner like a whore.

It was then that his father decided that the marriage consummation be attended to immediately. The actual marriage could wait until the following day as planned. His fiance had agreed, and Lumaria had been carried to his rooms in the castle, no longer screaming but crying in grief and terror, where he had been thrown down onto his bed. His wrists and hands were locked in leather shackles attacked to thin metal chains that hadn't been there when he'd gotten out of bed that morning, and the chains were pulled tight until he was able to do little more than wiggle on the bed. What little clothing he had on was quickly torn away, leaving him naked and exposed as his parents and the mage walked into the room.

Lumaria had begged, pleaded, and cried for them to stop this, to not allow that man to rape him, but his cries had been ignored as the mage cast the first spell. His cries of fear and grief had quickly turned to those of pain and he felt something growing and changing within him, and an opening appeared between his legs where none had been before. After several long agonizing minutes that felt like hours to him, the pain stopped, and he was left panting and soaked with sweat on his bed, and then the mage cast the fertility spell upon him and stepped out.

His fiance had then shucked his own clothing, and Lumaria tried one last desperate plea to his parents that was ignored, and he felt the bile rise in his throat when he realized they intended to watch him be raped and humiliated. His fiance settled on the bed between his spread legs, and Lumaria moaned in fear as he felt the heat of the man's bulk press up against his new entrance.

But fate had intervened.

Just as Lumaria was bracing himself for what was coming, a scream from one of the servants echoed through the castle, followed by more screams of terror from the window. Chained on his back to his bed, Lumaria could see nothing, but his fiance could, and whatever the man saw made him lose his arousal instantly. Part of Lumaria was relieved, even as he shuddered at what could cause the man so much fear, especially once the man jumped off the bed and fled the room without bothering to dress himself first. A few seconds later, his parents fled as well, leaving him alone and helpless as the screams around him grew louder. He called out for someone to help him, but no one answered, and he was more than a little unnerved when the screams began to fade. Not stop, fade, as if the voices were being drawn away down a long tunnel. A few seconds later, he saw one of the shadows in the room somehow managed to detach itself from the wall and began to move towards him.

Before his terrified mind could even begin to process what he was seeing, the first shadow was joined by others, several others, and they all converged on the bed where he was lying unable to free himself. Cold seemed to roll from them, and he shivered as the shadows seemed to gain shape as they climbed up onto the bed. A small black form, with two feet and two hands and two antennae and glowing yellow eyes climbed up onto his chest and stared at him for a long moment, and then it reached towards him.

Lumaria screamed in agony as a freezing grip reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart, followed by an intense squeezing pressure and a tearing sensation. The last thing he saw as the darkness began to swallow him was a bright red heart, sparkling with life, floating out of him before it vanished and its place was taken by one of those shadows.

When he woke, he was somewhere else. He could see a castle, but it wasn't his home...?

Home? What had happened to it?

Lumaria – was that his name? – shook his pink haired head to try and clear it, but he felt so confused and... that was it.

Shouldn't he be scared? Frightened? Upset? What had happened? Where was he? He shivered, but no tears spilled down his face, no sadness wrapped around his heart. He felt incomplete, like a part of him was missing, but he didn't know what it was. He felt an aching pain, and he worked up the courage to stick his hand down between his legs to see that the spells that the mage had cast had worn off, and his body was normal. That knowledge should have relieved him, but yet it did not for some strange reason.

Male voices made him look up, and he drew his knees up to his chest in a futile attempt to cover his nakedness as the two men came into sight. One with black hair with gray stripes, called out to a second who had black hair with sideburns that reached down to nearly his mouth, and the two approached him. Lumaria knew that he should be frightened, but no emotion came to him as he dispassionately watched their approach.

"Looks like another one, Xigbar." said the one with the sideburns, and the other nodded in response.

"She looks like quite the pretty one, Xaldin" Xigbar said with a leer.

"I am not a she!" Lumaria snarled, though his boldness did not surprise him, and there was no real emotion behind the snarl. The second man, Xigbar, threw his head back and roared with laughter, though it seemed a bit... faked.

"HE has got me there, eh Xaldin?" he howled, and Xaldin shook his head in disgust.

"Let's just get him inside before the Superior chews us out for taking too long."

"Fine, fine." Xigbar walked up to him and gently took him by the hands and pulled him to his feet. "What's your name kid?" he asked as he took off the long black leather coat he was wearing and draped it over Lumaria's bare shoulders.

"Lumaria." he replied as he pulled the coat tighter around him to cover himself. He had nearly been raped, and he thought that being naked in front of two strange men should have made him uneasy.

"Lumaria, huh?" Xigbar commented "Isn't that a girl's name?" Lumaria glared at him, and he laughed again and made some gestures with his hands, and Lumaria watched as the letters of his name appeared, floating in front of his face. With another gesture from Xigbar, the letters rearranged themselves and an "x" was added to them. The floated in the air in that order for a moment, and then they faded away.

Xigbar gently put an around his shoulders, which did not upset or frighten him in any way, and began to lead him towards the massive castle that they were standing in front of.

"Welcome to Organization XIII," he said cheerily "Marluxia."