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Circe opened her eyes. Fresh moss cradled her body, stretched haphazardly but gently over the ground. She slowly pushed herself to a sitting position, and stared down at that body. It was entirely unclothed, and decidedly female. Though the name "Circe" came naturally to her, nothing else about this situation did, and she examined herself in rapidly mounting horror as she realized what had happened. She snapped her head up, and looked around. She was in a beautiful forest, near a swiftly running stream. Her eyes swept over all the flora before her, and she found herself cataloguing it in great detail, quickly deducing what brews she could create with these ingredients to do truly vile things to others. Shaking these strange thoughts away, she bent down, her long brown hair spilling over her shoulders, and took a drink from the stream. After doing this, she quickly began to follow it, and it was not twenty minutes later that she broke from the treeline and beheld the vast ocean before her. She stood still for a long time, hopelessness washing over her. Her form had been taken from her, even her name, and she'd been stranded on an island, surely with little hope of ever getting back to the land she knew. Suddenly, she made out the shape of a ship on the horizon, drawing nearer and nearer. For a moment she could not believe her luck! But... what luck was there, anyway? Bitterness hardened her as she considered the impossibility that anyone aboard could actually help her in any meaningful way. But... perhaps she could at least ask whomever was aboard this ship where she was. She stood waiting as they approached, but when they had come quite near, she suddenly remembered that she was completely naked, and, in a panic, hid herself in the trees. And as she watched the men disembark, several things blossomed inside of her: hate, rage, jealousy, enmity. She was supposed to look exactly like these men. They knew a luxury she may never have again. And all at once, she knew what she would use the herbs on this island for: lessons. This was Circe. This was not Fred. And she was vaguely aware that these feelings were creeping in from the outside to control her, but this awareness was not strong enough to stop her from stepping out with a smile and welcoming the men "to the island of... of... Aeaea." They were weary from their travels, and came with her, accepting her offers of food and protection. And, as they waited unawares, she brewed them potions that would transform them into
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