Conrart couldn't help the smile on his face as he wandered down the Vale paths, following quietly in Firesong's wake. The man was easily as dramatic as Lord von Kleist, but at least he didn't seem to suffer from Günter's infamous nosebleeds. A little less than an hour ago when the sun was high, Firesong had come for him. Not only did the man sponsor him for the position of Wingsib as he'd promised Vanyel he would, but had adopted him fully into the Clan K'Teva as his little brother.

Firesong's reasoning – when he'd attempted to argue – was simple enough. Apparently the man felt that because Vanyel had Chosen him, and Vanyel was the father of two of the clan's most powerful lines, that a place within the clans, and the comfort and protection that it provided was Conrart's by right. Conrart's objections and arguments about propriety and family ties had been overruled by the entirety of Firesong's extended family, who wholeheartedly supported the flamboyant mage's belief that since Vanyel had Chosen him, he was already family.

Yozak was going to have a field day when he found out about this!

So now he had two elder brothers, although he wasn't sure which of the two was technically the eldest. Obviously Gwendal was the elder in terms of actual years, particularly considering the fact that the man was 216. Hell, even Wolfram was chronologically older then Firesong, and he was only 97. The question was who was older physically? Gwendal looked to be around 30 years old, and Wolfram looked the equivalent of about 16. The problem was that he couldn't really tell how old Firesong was, and the feathered mask obscuring his face was simply not helping. However, he thought the man to be in his late 30's to early 40's.

He sighed, wondering just how his family would take the news of his literally being adopted into a different family. Suppressing the urge to groan, he dismissed the thought as inconsequential. He settled himself down on the plush carpet of grass and mosses that comprised the riverbank and tried to ignore his new 'elder brother' as the flamboyant man twittered on about how drab his name was. Conrart glanced up as Firesong's lifemate - the kesteretern – Silverfox sat down gracefully beside him.

"You'll get used to him soon, Youngling. He is as magnificent as his name entails; just remember not to get too close to the dancing flames or you'll be burned." Silverfox said in a tone oddly reminiscent of the Great Sage.

Conrart shifted slightly, allowing the Destier to pool in his hand and twine themselves around his fingers like slim snakes. "Thank you, I'll remember that." He replied calmly, raising an eyebrow as Firesong prattled on about the many possibilities available for giving him a 'proper Tayledras name'. Then he asked "Is he seriously contemplating changing my name?"

"Sadly yes," Silverfox replied, with a hint of exasperation in his tone. "I'm afraid once he gets an idea in his head, it's rather hard to get it out again and he is very fond of drama. Just remember, in the clans it's not what we call you but what you answer to that matters. He can't rename you, unless you allow it."

Conrart sighed, and continued to carry on an intelligent conversation with Silverfox while Firesong came up with increasingly odd and flamboyant names in the background. With the addition of Stormblade to the growing list of suggestions, he began to lose his temper with the flamboyant man who kept referring to him only as 'little brother' and muttering to himself about how drab the name Conrart was, and how no 'sibling of his would keep such a ridiculously dull name'.

Conrart resisted the urge to rub his brow, feeling his eyebrow twitch. "You don't have to worry about me getting burnt, I have enough experience with fire to ensure that I don't." he interjected mildly, flicking his fingers up repetitively in a subtle motion as he spoke, drawing the river water up as he did so.

"Firesong," he said simply, ignoring Silverfox's confused expression. "Conrart is fine."

He then proceeded to douse the aptly named peacock with a wave of river water shaped suspiciously like a small dragon. Completely drenched, Firesong gasped, sputtered and flailed about like a graceless wet cat.

"This was a new mask!" the man whined, still floundering about in his sodden mage robes, completely oblivious to the fact that his left shoulder with its supple leather guard was completely dry. Aya, the man's bondbird alighted calmly on a branch, with not a single feather wet or out of place, and showered them all with false sparks for the indignation, despite the fact that he had never been in any danger of a cold dunking.

Conrart gave the still sputtering, silver haired, adept a cheeky grin that was worthy of Yozak and rose gracefully to his feet. "As I said Firesong, Conrart is fine. It has served me well for over 130 years, and I see no need to change it now."

"Fine then, if you really must keep such a drab name. Wait—130 years?!!" Firesong yelped the last bit, his voice shrill with disbelief.

Conrart raised an eyebrow, and adopted a stance Günter would have recognized from his days as the man's student. It was a stance that quite plainly said I-can-and-will-out-stubborn-you. His professor had always hated that stance, as it had always heralded the coming of a rather stressful day. "137 years to be precise. It has served me well; I'll not abandon it simply because you cannot see the value of it."

Firesong blinked behind his mask. Then he laughed, and proceeded to ring out his long scallop shelled sleeves. "You," he said mildly "are as stubborn as Dar'rin. But then I guess your reasoning is the same as his, little brother."

Conrart snorted in a very unprincely fashion; he was beginning to understand how Yuri felt in the face of Shori's 'big brother complex' and his own teasing 'Heika'. He however always referred to the young king by name after Yuri requested it, to the point that it had become a mutual game between them. "I have a name Firesong, please use it." He was fighting hard to keep a lid on his temper after his former outburst.

"Oh very well," Firesong said his voice full of exasperation. "Be dull and boring Con'rart. When you get bored with the name, don't come crying to me."

Conrart sighed, and didn't even bother with attempting to correct the other man's pronunciation of his name. "That is all I ask." He replied mildly.

Firesong nodded. "So," he asked after a second. "Are you a mage?"

"No, I am Mazoku." Conrart told him simply.

Firesong opened his mouth to reply but Silverfox beat him to it. "If you are not a mage, youngling, how is it that you made a serpent out of water and set it upon Firesong?"

"Mazoku are elementals."

Silverfox nodded, "Do you have sway over every element or just a few?" he asked after a second's consideration.

Conrart smiled, remembering a time many years ago when they'd had to answer Yuri's questions. "The powers reflect the soul." He said simply, unintentionally quoting Gwendal.

Silverfox smiled, "Judging by your personality and how expertly you extinguished Firesong, I guess you are a Water elemental." He paused long enough for Conrart to nod in response before continuing. "Are there any Ma'zo'ku who can wield them all?" he asked, tripping a bit over the pronunciation of 'Mazoku'.

"Only the Maoh," Conrart replied mildly, a look of pride on his face.

Firesong looked confused. "Maoh?" he asked after a second.

Conrart smiled. "Our king," he replied. He would have said more, but then the world began to spin.

He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't muster the energy to be concerned. He was floating, floating in a sea of euphoria, his body burning in pin sized sections and he couldn't bring himself to care. His knees buckled, and he went down. He was drifting, caught in a riptide of ecstasy, and struggling to keep his head above the water. Something was not right, but he couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why this was wrong.

Suddenly Vanyel was there.

He felt something; a sharp pull coupled with a wrenching sensation, as his Companion forcibly yanked him out of Yozak's consciousness and returned him to his body. The bond between himself and his best friend flared, and he screamed. A single agonized cry of "YOZAK!" tore itself from his mind and his throat. Overcome by anguish and fear, he fought for consciousness.

And lost, fading into the rising darkness.

~~~***~~~

:YOZAK!:

Conrad's voice tore through his enforced calm. Yozak came back to himself all at once. His body burned, and for a moment he was completely flabbergasted by the sea of endless green that had quite literally engulfed him. Then he remembered—the little village at the edge of Wyrfren woods, the two boys who'd become lost within its borders, the change-boars that had developed a taste for human flesh, and the man eating plant.

The man eating plant.

Ah Shit!

He swore, and began to struggle. There wasn't enough room to move, and he could barely reach his belt-knife. He gasped, fighting for every breath he took. Jissa's voice in his mind spurred him on. She flung him a line of power, lending him her strength, but it was the terror and pain in Conrart's voice that forced him to act long after he'd lost the strength to.

Yozak ignored the sharp pain that lanced up his arm when he unintentionally sliced open the palm of his hand. He swore, struggling to keep his grasp on the knife, his hand clutching the blade. He stabbed at the inside of the leaf with the knife, ignoring the burn of the plant slime as the enzymes washed over his cut. Blood dripped steadily down the groove in the blade, until it finally dripped onto the exposed flesh of the man eating plant.

A sharp sound, like water striking white hot stone accompanied the contact of blood and plant. His world shook violently, like something had picked him up by the scruff of the neck and proceeded to whip him violently about. The plant let out an air rending torrent of sound that was more primal hiss than shriek of pain.

Abruptly he was airborne.

Flying through the air in a less than graceful tumble

The ground rushing up to met him at an impossibly fast pace!

He landed hard, his back striking the earth with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs and leave him dazed. Above him the plant writhed in agony, emitting a string of noses he associated more with a tortured snake than a plant. Sizzling green goo sprayed forth from its leaves in manner reminiscent of spittle; it was as if the plant had unexpectedly ingested something it was horrified and disgusted by.

Despite himself, he felt vaguely insulted.

"I bet you don't taste good either, YOU DAMNED DEMENTED SALAD!!!" he shouted, rising to his feet, and shaking his uninjured fist at the thing, before attempting to wipe green slime from his face with the sleeve of his whites, only to realize he was bathed from head to toe in the sticky, green, mucous-like substance that still burned.

Utterly disgusted, he turned and headed off in the direction of a nearby forest stream, with Jissa trailing behind him. He couldn't see it, and he didn't know exactly where it was but he could sure as hell hear it, and that was all that mattered.

~~~***~~~

Conrart groaned as he crawled back into the land of the living, wondering all the while why he'd lost consciousness. Then he remembered—Yozak. Yozak was in trouble, possibly dying, and there was nothing he could do to help his beloved friend. Suddenly Vanyel was there, comforting him, soothing him, reassuring him. Yozak was fine, safe and out of harm's way. He relaxed against the mound of pillows, glad his dear friend was alright.

That was when he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. In fact he was naked except for his underwear. Someone had removed the bulk of his clothing and tucked him securely into bed. He felt a brief moment of panic flare in his breast before common sense returned. A nearly hidden door off to the side of the room opened, and he clutched the sheets to his body in mild alarm. It was only Silverfox.

"Oh good, your awake." Silverfox said mildly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a dragon sat on me." He replied, without bothering to give it much thought.

Silverfox raised one sculpted brow. "Dragon?" he asked.

"Giant, fire-breathing lizard; they're about 4 maybe 5 times the size of a Gryphon."

Silverfox flinched. "Ouch," he said after a minute. "Truthfully I'm not all that surprised though, considering you look like you where run over by an entire herd of Dyheli."

"Thanks," Conrart retorted sardonically.

Silverfox lifted one shoulder in a half hearted shrug. "So," he said after a few seconds of oddly comfortable silence. "Who's Yozak?"

Conrart blinked, startled by the question. Briefly he wondered where the other man had even heard the name. Then he realized he must have cried out for Yozak, either in his sleep or before he'd passed out. "I'm going to assume I said that out loud."

Silverfox smiled, "Yes, you did."

"Yozak is my best friend; we've known each other since we were young." Conrart replied after a moment.

"I see," Silverfox said simply, keeping his voice soft and unimposing. "Can you tell me where he is, youngling?"

Conrart blinked. "He's riding the Lake Evindim circuit, and is currently somewhere east of Ashkevron Manor." He replied without thinking about it. "Why?"

Silverfox smiled. "No particular reason. However, are you sure this Yozak is nothing more to you than an old friend?"

"What kind of question is that?" Conrart asked, his voice a study in controlled calm, as he tried valiantly not to go on the defensive. "Of course I am sure; we have been friends since we were boys. Why do you ask?"

The smile Silverfox gave him was reminiscent of the Great Sage and frankly a bit creepy. "Is it normal for friends to know each other's whereabouts so accurately when such a great distance stands between them?"

"I have always known where Yozak is and what he is doing." Conrart replied simply. "There are days when it's almost impossible to determine where one of us ends and the other begins."

Silverfox's smile was gentle, but Conrart knew it for what it was. That smile plainly asked 'I-have-led-you-to-water-now-will-you-drink?' The man rose to his feet and smiled at him before turning to leave. "Precisely, youngling; perhaps you should think on that awhile before you claim to be naught but friends with the other lad." He said over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

~~~***~~~

A.N.

Okay so here is the next chapter. What do you think? Please read and review.