https://crestftgcaptions.blogspot.com/2022/05/black-magic.html?m=0
This is also requested caption from mageofage
In Aethelburg, the chaos has reigned throughout the kingdom. The Genderwave, as it came to be called, swept across the land like a furious storm, leaving behind a transformation of men and women in opposite sexes. Knights felt themselves wearing flowing dresses, and swords seemed alien in their suddenly delicate hands. Ladies awoke with booming voices and the desire to swing their axes.
Among those swept away by the wave were the Royal Knights. Sir Reginald, brave and bold, was now Lady Regina, his once mighty muscles softened and his armor transformed into gowns. Sir Gareth, known for his stoicism, took on the role of Lady Gwendolyn, his face a mask of bewildered terror as she struggled to tame her new shape. Sir Tristan, the charming rogue, had become Lady Iseult, and her flirtatious nature had intensified tenfold, much to his own embarrassment.
But there was one person in Aethelburg who seemed unaffected by the Genderwave: Alatar, the town alchemist. Alatar, a loner by nature, claimed to have been deep in his laboratory, brewing a potent elixir, when the wave struck. He had emerged, seemingly unfazed, with tales of how he had narrowly escaped the effects of the Wave thanks to a rare combination of herbs and spells.
Little did the people in kingdom know that Alatar was lying. In truth, he was safely tucked away in a pocket dimension of his own making, a secret he jealously guarded.
Not knowing this, once King Tarran, now Queen Talia, sent the ladies to fetch Alatar to help their court wizard Merlock develop a cure.
“Alatar, you must help us,” Lady Regina pleaded, Reginald’s commanding tone still evident in her voice. "You seem to be the only one who knows anything about this... this condition."
Alatar stroked his beard, false concern appearing in his eyes. "This is indeed an extremely strange situation, an ancient magic unheard of. Unfortunately, the cure is even rarer." He began a long, rambling explanation, giving unclear ingredients and complicated procedures, knowing full well that his listeners would not understand a word of it.
The key was to sound competent and seem irreplaceable.
The transformed knights were willing to do anything. Dame Gwendolyn, still struggling with her new form on behalf of the ruler, offered the royal treasury. Dame Iseult, batting her eyelashes seductively, offered... other services. Alatar politely accepted the second offer but also gladly accepted the offer of gold.
And so Alatar began his farce. The Queen Talia sent pairs of new knights and ladies (strength and experience) to senseless chase after the wild goose while Alatar pocketing the gold they brought him. He spent his days concocting colorful liquids, spending time with Lady Iseult (giving her an aphrodisiac while lying that it would curb her lust) and reciting absurd spells, thus providing a wonderful spectacle for his increasingly desperate clients. Especially Queen Talia, because according to the law he cannot rule alone and a mass of suitors are trying to win her hand and the throne. Some even turned to Alaric to help the queen choose, it was an offer he considered, but waited for higher offers.
