Chapter 24: Yozak gets his Whites

Yozak laughed as he talked quietly with Conrart. In the two years that had passed since two white horses had pranced merrily into their lives, and proceeded to turn them upside down, many things had changed. For one thing, Conrart actually smiled now, the same smile he'd grown so fond of when they were little. He'd grown his hair out as well; the man's once military short hair now fell to his shoulders. I'Ryn had also become a good friend of theirs. Their friendship had had a rocky start, but it had blossomed quite nicely once the woman accepted the fact that he simply wasn't interested in her romantically.

The former Bard had left on the start of her internship just two months ago; ironically, her younger brother Tykir was her mentor. Yozak glanced down at his own white uniform and closed his eyes briefly, knowing he would soon follow suit. He should be happy, and he was . . . he just didn't want to think about how hard it was going to be. It had been two years since the last time he and Conrart had been apart for more than a day or two at most. It would be weird sleeping alone and waking without Conrart by his side. It was odd; their relationship was still completely platonic, but not a day went by that didn't find him waking with the younger man in his arms. It didn't matter whether they were in his room or Conrart's.

I'Ryn, Tykir and Austin often teased them; saying that they were "lifebonded" and it was "cute". But they both knew better; they were just really close. He smiled and tugged the still gray sleeve of Conrart's shirt to get the younger man's attention, even though he knew all he really had to do was reach out with his mind.

Kerowyn stood quietly by the archery range, instructing a new batch of trainees in the use of a bow. The Herald nodded to them as they made their way onto the archery range, ignoring the bows and quivers full of arrows entirely.

They were here for target practice of a different sort.

He and Conrart stood well back from the targets.

: Would you like to go first, or should I? : Conrart said into his mind.

Yozak's reply was laced with mischievous humor: Who says we have to take turns, eh, Taisa? Why not have some fun and awe the younglings together? :

Conrart chuckled :Will you ever grow up my friend? :

: Not if I can help it, Taisa. Grown-ups are no fun! : Yozak replied with all seriousness.

: You're 145 years old Yozak. Will you ever act your age? :

: I've never been this age before, Taisa. So how can I possibly know how to act it? : Yozak retorted.

Conrart sputtered, an interesting accomplishment considering the fact that it was purely mental.

: You know what your problem is, Taisa? You worry too much. : Yozak continued.

Conrart flushed, but grabbed the bit and took off with their playful bantering. : A good thing seeing as you worry too little! :

Yozak shrugged. : In all honesty, I'll act my age as soon as you learn to act yours. You're only 137—perhaps it's time you had some fun and let go of the past. :

Apparently he'd touched a sore spot as water flared from Conrart's palm, and consolidated into a sinuous serpent-like dragon, with powerful crushing jaws, two long flowing whiskers, and four talon-like feet! : Do you intend to exercise your Majutsu as well as your mouth? : He asked as his water dragon shot across the field, and crashed into one of the straw targets, binding it up in sinuous coils and lifting it into the air in a show of fine control that it had taken him nearly a year to develop.

"Touchy" Yozak retorted before flicking his own palm up and calling on his own element. The air collected in his palm briefly before exploding outwards, consolidating into a falcon as it did so. The bird swept wings of air back and swooped for the target held aloft by Conrart's Maryoku.

Seriously, sometimes Conrart really did need to lighten up and have some fun!

~~~***~~~

Yozak smiled lightly and swung his saddle bags over his shoulder. It was almost time to go. In roughly an hour, he and Jissa would be off on their internship ride, accompanying Herald Koren on his circuit up to Lake Evendim and back. The whole trek would last about 15 months, and take him across areas of Valdemar he'd only heard of before in books and lessons. He was looking forward to seeing more of this world; he hadn't stayed in the same place for longer than a month or two in nearly 30 years! Truthfully, ha had begun to lose patience with school, and the enforced sedimentary it demanded. The only thing that would make 15 months spent in the saddle better was if Conrart were coming with him.

But alas, that wouldn't be happening.

In the last year, Conrart's classes had diverged from the courses he and most other trainees were taking when their teachers had realized that there was an open, diplomatic, and highly cunning mind lurking behind that impassive mask. The classes that Conrart had begun taking had become far more tailored to the lifestyle he would be leading as soon as he got his Whites.

He was very glad of Conrart's help in relocating everything he'd acquired in the past two years from his room in the boy's dormitory to his room in the Herald's wing last week. He also knew very well that the mere fact that Conrart had just about taken up residence in his rooms only added fuel to the fires as far as the budding rumor mill went. But they'd weathered far worse than the teasing of the Heraldic Trainees. Conrart would be in class when he left; as such, he was even more grateful for the few hours of quiet they'd shared this morning.

He closed the door to his quarters, not even bothering to lock them as he left. He'd given Conrart an open invitation to "crash" in his rooms whenever his neighbors entertained company. He had the feeling Conrart would be using them a lot. One of his original neighbors may well have been granted his Whites, but his new neighbor was just as fond of nocturnal activity.

He resisted the urge to run his hand along the aged Golden Oak panels on the wall, and smiled as he passed the large double doors. Yozak paused briefly, glancing back over his shoulder at the entrance to the Herald's Wing. It was odd to think about, but generations upon generations of Heralds and Herald-mages had lived behind those doors. Lived, loved, served Valdemar, and in some cases even raised families behind those doors. A week ago he had become one of them, but he still felt vaguely inferior. They were tried and tested Heralds, and he was a trainee whose uniform had accidently been bleached white.

He shook his head – and reminded himself that he was no untried youngster. He'd been on the frontlines watching his friends die when a good many of the Heralds were still soiling their night-wrappings! He was about a century older than some of them, older still in other cases. He'd been in the military longer than any of them had even been alive! So he didn't understand why the concept of his own internship ride made him feel this way!

: Because it's something new to you Chosen. For all the years you've lived, all the things you've seen, and all the roles you've played, this one is new. This one you'd never considered, and this one isn't an act. It isn't a role you're playing for a few days to gather information to protect your people, your king, and your country. It's who you are now, who you were always meant to be. That's what scares you. : Jissa told him gently.

He considered that for a moment and then conceded.

He blinked once as he stepped into the light beyond the doorway and into the world outside of the castle. He'd always marveled at the differences between the Palace at Haven and Covenant Castle. Covenant Castle (also known as Blood Pledge Palace) was built for defense on the high ground above the capital city. The Castle was made mostly of courtyards with ornamental flower beds and fountains, with the training grounds thrown in for good measure. The vast majority of the palace's plant life was regulated to a small garden for the pleasure of the royal family and visiting nobles, and Lady Cecelia's greenhouse. That excluded the little box of flowers growing on what used to be Conrart's window ledge.

Conrart wouldn't admit it, but he had inherited his mother's love of gardening and flowering plants in general.

Yozak sighed and continued his trek out to the stables. When he got there, Jissa was waiting for him outside in the Courtyard, her coat gleaming in the early afternoon light. Her gear lay in a neat pile at her side. He gaped at her, ignoring the other Companion mare that stood beside her with her Herald, and completely oblivious to the two pack mules that were tethered nearby.

In the two years that he'd known her, Jissa had never been less than clean, and never anything less than stunning. Part of that was his own meticulous hand with a curry comb and brush, and the rest of it was her own natural tendency to stay clean. Right now however, she looked like a little piece of the heavens given equine form! She reminded him of that time long ago when he and Conrart had run into what was truly the most elusive and gentle creature in their world.

Unicorns.

They'd been lucky enough to see an entire herd of them.

He shook his head to clear it of the old but life changing memory. He looked at Jissa again, and she still gleamed. He'd been down here this morning to give her a quick brushing before going upstairs to pack what he would need for the trip. He'd come back down fully expecting to give the mare a more thorough brushing down before he saddled her.

Yet here she was, with her coat brushed till it shown! Glancing down at his tack he discovered that it too had been meticulously cleaned, oiled, and polished. It damned well looked new! He sputtered in surprise, his tongue refusing to answer his commands.

: Conrart brushed me. : Jissa told him. : Then he went over every bit of my gear with an oiled rag until everything shown and nothing creaked. I think the only thing that stopped him from tacking me up for you was that Vanyel reminded him he was going to be late for class. :

Yozak chuckled, that sounded like Conrart alright. "Knowing Conrart, I'm surprised he didn't bring you an apple." He said calmly, reaching out with one hand to pet her nose.

The mare whickered an equine chuckle : Actually, he brought Vanyel and me pears. With how often Conrart brings Vanyel fruit, I'm honestly surprised Vanyel hasn't gotten fat! :

Yozak laughed at that. It was true; even in Shin Makoku, Conrart had always brought an apple or some other kind of fruit to his mount, and no one could understand just how he managed to keep his horse from becoming too round to walk! With a sigh, he set his bags down on the floor beside the rest of their gear.

He bent down and scooped up Jissa's saddle blanket, which Conrart had left resting on top of the saddle. A small piece of paper fluttered to the floor as he settled the blanket at her withers. He picked the little scrap of paper up and tucked it into the small pouch he still carried at his breast, before gathering up the saddle and ornamental hackamore to finish tacking up his Companion.

His Companion… somehow he never got tired of hearing that!

He settled the tack into place with the ease of long practice, and patted Jissa's shoulder before he set about attaching his gear to the snaffles and saddle skirting. He got everything carefully into place before turning and seeing to the supplies Jissa wasn't going to be carrying. It was a new experience using a pack mule to carry the bulk of his gear. All Jissa would actually be carrying was the necessities –

A spare set of Whites, his weapons, his bedroll, and anything else he'd need on hand if they were forced to leave the pack mules behind. The mule snorted at him, and scrapped one hoof against the stones. Yozak raised an eyebrow and reached for the ornery beast with his Animal Mindspeech. The gelding snorted, but let him load up the supplies.

"You handled that rather well," A man he didn't know said from somewhere behind him to his left.

Yozak turned and took in the man before him. He was relatively tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than Conrart. Black hair fell past his shoulders and was held out of his face by a series of small meticulous braids. His ice blue eyes shone with a fierce light, and by his clothing Yozak guessed that the man had never met a color he didn't like. He guessed the man to be about 21.

"High praise coming from one of the Shin'a'in clansmen," Yozak replied. "My thanks."

The man watched him for a moment before extending his hand. "Kre'esha shena Tale'sedrin"

Yozak clasped the man's hand readily enough. "Yozak Gurrier," he replied evenly. "Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but are you one of Kero's cousins?"

Kre'esha chuckled, "Aye, in a way; my father is one of her cousins."

Yozak inclined his head. "So what brings you to Valdemar, business or pleasure?"

"A bit of both, actually. My father hopes to sell some of our saddle horses to your queen, and I was hoping to see Herald Koren again. Have you seen him?"

Yozak suppressed a chuckle at the emotions rolling off the man at the mere mention of Herald Koren. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the man's general direction. "He's over there."

Kre'esha smiled. "My thanks; by the way, however did you get your hair that color? The combination of dyes must have been murder to come up with. But it's a lovely color, accents your eyes well. You must tell me, however did you achieve it?"

Yozak blinked, and then laughed aloud. "Thank you, but I'm afraid I was born with it."

"Hmm… I've never seen that color before, and I've been traveling for a long time. Where are you from?" Kre'esha replied.

"No place you would have heard of." Yozak replied mildly.

Kre'esha raised an eyebrow.

Yozak sighed. "Shin Makoku's not reachable by horseback." He said simply.

"Ah, I see." Kre'esha replied. "Well, it was nice talking to you."

With that, he was gone, walking over to speak with Koren. Yozak shook his head, leaned up against Jissa and took out the paper from earlier. Opening it, he recognized Conrart's neat slightly slanted script. It wasn't that hard, seeing how it was written in the Demon Tongue.

Yozak,

Be safe, have fun, and come back in one piece.

Same rules apply; if you get yourself killed, I swear to Shinou I'll never speak to you again!

~ Conrart

P.S. Isn't it nice to be going on a mission that doesn't require you to wear a dress?

Yozak couldn't help it; he laughed aloud, shaking his head at the antics only he ever really got to see. He folded the little note up and slipped it back into the pouch at his breast. Folding his arms across his chest, he ran his right arm over his bicep, feeling the stiff leather of one of his arm bands under his uniform shirt. They were comforting in their familiarity.

He started wearing them years ago when he first became a spy, originally as accent pieces to many of his costumes, since armbands had been and to some extent still were the height of fashion in Shin Makoku and the surrounding human countries. Being a soldier, he never really had cause to wear armbands, let alone the purely ornamental armbands often worn by courtly ladies. The damned things had pissed him off to no end when he first started wearing them, so he'd taken to wearing them all the time. In some ways it was kind of funny—he became a spy after Conrart had taken Yuri's soul to earth, partly because he'd thought his friend dead and had wanted to join him. Yet somehow, he'd never been able to bring himself to do something stupid.

Yozak had found himself unable to dishonor his friend's memory. He remembered the day the mysterious bond between them had flared back to life after years of dormancy. He remembered watching his friend from a distance, wondering at the clothing he was wearing and the sudden lack of the predatory grace he'd always attributed with Conrart. He wanted to kill his friend for the years of pain he'd put him through, wanting to drop down off of the tavern roof he was sitting on and knock some sense into his friend's thick skull!

Conrart should have seen him; Conrart, who had always watched everywhere including up for trouble. Conrart, who was walking unarmed through the lower district of the capital city, wearing the weirdest outfit he'd ever seen, It consisted of fitted mostly dark-blue leggings of a course material that were faded in some places, a strange looking, short and loose tunic with no undershirt. He later learned that what Conrart was wearing was called jeans and a t-shirt. He followed his friend for about two blocks before he lost his temper with the fact that Conrart seemed oblivious to his presence, and attempted to tackle his friend as the man slipped into a back alley.

Conrart had simply rolled away and tossed him into a nearby rubbish heap. The shouting match that followed was one of the most intense of their friendship. He called Conrart everything from an insensitive lout to pompous jackass, and had then proceeded to rant at him in several different languages, describing lewd acts he knew damned well were not anatomically possible and demanding to know how Conrart could have put his friends and family through the pain and heartbreak of thinking he was dead for so many years, not allowing the other man to get a word in edge wise until he'd finished ripping him several new orifices. Conrart shouted at him to 'shut up and listen already' the whole time before he finally managed to inform him of The Great One's part in the whole fiasco!

He shook his head and pulled himself out of his memories, smiling at the thought of Conrart. The armband he was currently wearing had been a gift from the younger man 4 years ago. The leather was stiff but soft, with a small red dyed fox set into the center. It was one of his favorite and most worn pieces. The sleeve of his white shirt covered it from view unless the sun hit the fabric just right. Even so, the only thing to be seen of it was the red of the fox. He chuckled to himself—one of Conrart's first gifts to him had been a little copper fox charm. The then thirteen year old boy had simply informed him that the color of his hair reminded him of a fox's coat. The charm held a place of honor inside of the little pouch he wore at his breast, and had for a very long time. It gave him strength the few times he'd ever been in a tight spot.

He swung up into his saddle at Jissa's prompting, bidding Conrart a silent goodbye as they turned and left the Palace behind. He turned his head briefly, watching his home fade from view. It was odd how quickly Valdemar and Haven had become home.

~~~***~~~

A.N. okay another chapter posted. I'm afraid I've almost run out of prewritten and edited chapters so in a few months the chapters are going to be coming a bit slower I'll try to keep it at a weekly basis. Reviews help. Ask questions make comments people they help to give my muse a kick in the rump occasionally. It looks like my coauthors and I will be separated for a year rather than just 7 months so bare with us. Conrad is contracted to water and Yozak to air. For those of you who think it should be the other way around so did we at first – but being the science majors that we are – we researched and our hypothesis and it proved false. According to the things we researched Conrad's personality is closer to the description of a water element and Yozak's with air.