Chapter 32: Change Children

Yozak let out a deep sigh—of course, because these things just couldn't happen to anyone else! He had no problem with change-children normally, but this… this was pushing it. They were currently in the tiny village of Deercreek, a little village that happened to have recently gained a change-child resident. It was a young woman who had learned to use her body and gifts to get exactly what she wanted. Her changes were subtle and likely only just noticeable to human eyes. For instance, her eerily green eyes only bore a slit about as prominent as the one's in Conrart's eyes. Slightly pointed ear tips stuck up from under a mane of wild platinum hair, and her soft skin bore the barest traces of a scale pattern.

According to the village women, she could get her way with any man that came through the village, from the traveling traders to the village mayor himself. Apparently the men never remembered giving into her demands, and the women reported a strangely musky scent accompanying the moments when she got her way.

She managed to sway Koren within just a few moments in his presence and a few subtle swishes of her hips. Yozak felt his blood raising at the way her modest clothing clung to her ample curves, and her bodice and shirt rose up slightly under the hand at her hip to give him a clear view of her navel. His whites were beginning to feel tight, and while the human half of his very being wanted nothing more than to do anything she wanted just so he could have the chance to use her to sate the burning in his loins, the demon in his blood saw no reason to even look at this inferior creature for pleasure, not while he still had two hands and the chance –however slim – of making Conrart his.

Images of the hypnotic little serpent change-child writhing beneath him gave way to truly erotic images that quickly drowned out any thoughts of her as images of Conrart flushed with pleasure and calling his name easily replaced them. That image did what her lithe body with its dripping sex appeal couldn't-

-- it got him painfully hard.

But it had an unexpected side effect—it did what even Jissa's frantic voice in his mind had been unable to do. It forced the two sides of his nature to come to a swift and sudden agreement.

She wasn't Conrart and thus not even remotely interesting!

He shook his head and clamped a hand over his mouth and nose, trying to force away the images the musk in the air was calling into his mind; carnal images which both disgusted and aroused him. Annoyed with the heady aroma, he used the wind to create a buffer between him and the hypnotic serpent given human form. It rather effectively blocked the thick scent she was producing. It also gave him an idea. Using his own gifts, he pulled the air currents away from Koren so that the man now stood upwind of her.

Koren blinked, shook his head and proceeded to have a sneezing fit. Yozak smiled, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow at the woman, noting as he did so that the slits of her eyes became far more prominent then even a full demon's as fear and rage rolled off her in heavy waves. She hissed at him angrily, the air rushing past her long needle sharp fangs as her long forked tongue flicked out of her mouth, tasting the air.

"I don't know how you did that, white coat, but it won't stop me." She hissed, stooping down to grab the two full baskets at her feet she bolted off into a dead winter corn field.

Swearing sharply in his native tongue, Yozak swung back into Jissa's saddle and together they gave chase. The woman was fast, and like a snake she wove expertly through the tall stalks. Somehow despite her strange hair color, she was very hard to see and keep track of. Only years of practice in the subtle art of espionage allowed him to trail her. In some ways, it was like hunting himself through the tall grass.

Finally, when they were close enough, he flung himself out of the saddle at her in a hair brained attempt to tackling her. His momentum carried them both to the ground as he wrapped himself almost protectively around her, and rolled them both to kill the remainder of the potentially lethal momentum. Swearing in a most unladylike fashion, she bit into his forearm, tearing open skin and muscle.

He howled in pain and cursed the woman in his own language, but otherwise he held still and waited for her to remove her long fangs from his arm – anything else would cause too much damage both to his arm and to her teeth.

After a moment she pulled back and came at him again for another strike, but he'd anticipated a second attack and moved his arm out of her range. It took a bit of work but he managed to pin her to the floor while she writhed beneath him very much like an infuriated snake. He held the cursing woman down while Jissa nosed through her baskets and he viewed its contents through her eyes. What was stolen from the villagers both surprised and confused him. It would appear that this woman was a bundle of contradictions.

Some things were new but most were old, worn, and in some cases in need of some repair. There were two blankets – a newly finished quilt, and one so old it was impossible to tell what color it had originally been, but it was well patched, made of good wool, and still serviceable. A few small bags of rice, flour and corn, some dried meat, three, small, day old loaves of stale bread, a broken figurine of a blue-eyed white horse and a white clad rider, a torn rag doll, a paper balloon, a new, blue dyed leather ball, and assorted dried and fresh vegetables completed the contents of her pilfered goods.

"What the hell?" he shifted his weight slightly as the woman attempted to escape again. The strong scent of her musk was starting to fill the air, so he snorted in an attempt to rid his nostrils of her rich scent. "That's not going to work on me, so I suggest you start talking."

She muttered something about 'Change-children and the Shay' before launching into her tale.

~~~***~~~

Yozak stood there quietly gaping at the little hovel that stood approximately four hours away from Deercreek village and at least six hours from any other village or city nearby. Four children under the age of 13 grabbed a hold of some smaller children and bolted into the little hut at the sight of him. Three undoubtedly stolen chickens pecked the nearly frozen ground within reach of the large peg of wood that they'd been tied to, and a dilapidated old well stood off to one side, with the central beam barely holding up the battered, leaking bucket suspended from it.

He swore and shook off memories of his own childhood before he'd been rescued by Conrart and his father – this wasn't the time or place for reminiscing. Winter came early and hard to this part of Valdemar, and it was a wonder that this woman and the orphans she was doing her best to support had survived here for the better part of the past four months. It was currently the last week of November, and they had less than seven days before the first heavy snow fell. There had already been some snow in these parts, but it was light in comparison of what was to come.

"Children," Servana called quietly. "Come and greet our guest."

Twelve under-fed children came out of the useless little hovel, and he felt his heart break for each and every one of them. It was obvious Servana needed help. She was only one woman – and just barely at that. She was only 17, and very lovely; she should have been looking forward to her life. She was supposed to be gossiping with friends and dealing with suitors, not taking care of 12 children, some of which were less than five years her junior. Yet she was – and had been for the past five years.

He closed his eyes briefly as the children inspected him, wondering at first why these children were even in her care and not in a proper orphanage – but now he knew. In some the changes were as subtle as Servana's, but in the others the changes were as prominent as Healer Elizabeth's. He knelt down as a small child no older than two made his way over to him. The others hung back, obviously wary. The small boy tugged at a hand full of Yozak's fox- red hair as he scooped him up into his arms.

"You wike us," the little boy gaped, looking him in the eye and shivering as the cold air cut through the nearly useless rags he was wearing.

Instinctively, Yozak placed the small child on his hip and wrapped his cloak around him for warmth. Gazing down into eyes that were quite unexpectedly the same color as his own, he smiled and gently ruffled the child's metallic blue hair. Sorrow gripped his heart as he could only nod in reply.

"You hewp Naga?" the little boy asked.

Yozak turned his head and looked at Servana. "Who is Naga?" he asked calmly.

The girl bristled. "Nagashin," the name came out as a long fluid hiss as her forked tongue whipped out between her teeth, "is my mate."

"I will do my best for him," Yozak stated sincerely as he carefully handed her the child and his cloak. This time she didn't return it. At least she would see to the child's needs if not her own. "When was the last time any of these kids ate?"

Servana sighed. "Last night," she replied after a second. "Normally Syeth, Serren, and Dessshia help me to gather food to keep the little ones alive. Nagashin normally watches the little ones with Sydren's help. Syeth caught a rabbit last night and gave it to the little ones. It wasn't much but at least they had something in their bellies."

Again Yozak felt his heart breaking for the children in front of him. He knew what it felt like to be constantly hungry and cold. Before Conrart's father had come into his life with Conrad riding on a pony behind him like prince from a fairytale HE hadgone to bed hungry and cold most nights, curling up against his mother for warmth with only her tattered shawl to keep him from freezing to death.

After she died …

He blinked, and fought back the unexpected pain that accompanied thoughts of his mother. She died young, her life stolen by prejudice and hatred. But at least she had died for him, and lived every day for him, giving her only son the very best she could despite the painful hand they'd been dealt. If she despaired after their future, or worried over the man she knew he would grow to be in her absence, then she'd hidden it well.

He forced himself away from his memories and back to the present. He had a job to do now, just as Lord Dan Hiri Weller had a job to do when he'd rescued him from that FUCKING VILLAGE, and he sure as hell wasn't going to dishonor his mother's memory or Conrad's father's legacy by failing these children now!

He was not going to let nostalgia get in the way of his duty to these people.

Jissa wrapped him in a protective blanket of love and comfort even as he dug through his saddle bags after the emergency rations he had stored there. For a moment he rested his head against Jissa, drawing strength from the familiar warmth of his Companion. After a second he turned and handed the small bag of supplies to one of the older children; a young girl – Deshia, if he had to guess based on their names alone.

"Are You Deshia?" he asked as he handed her the bag.

The child shook her head. "No sir, I'm Serren. That's Deshia," she replied, indicating a scrawny, silver haired boy.

He blinked. "My apologies, Youngling. Serren, can you cook?"

The little girl nodded, with her long black braids bobbing in time with her enthusiastic nods. The child's brown eyes were haunted, and her face too thin – but he could see the spark of life inside her. She was a fighter then – someone who would fight for herself and her family. She was likely only eleven, and given her spirit he wondered if he'd ever see her in the company of a blue eyed white horse.

: Perhaps one day soon, but not today Chosen. : Jissa told him quietly. :For now our job is to keep them all alive long enough for that to even become a dream they might entertain.:

Thus recalled to duty he smiled down at the child in front of him - and got the shock of his life when a pair of soft, fuzzy, puppy ears popped up out of her hair and honed in on him. "All right, little one, there's dried food in there that should make a nice stew for you and your family," he said gently, firmly stepping on the urge to inquire after what she'd been changed with.

: A dog, I'm guessing… if the tail is any indication. : Jissa said brightly into his mind.

Tail? Yozak wondered briefly before noting the softly twitching appendage as the child walked away.

:Well, aren't we the observant one. Tell me, what was it your best friend's brother employed you for again?: Jissa inquired in a mocking tone.

Yozak ignored her. Honestly he was also surprised that he'd missed the fluffy appendage, but he wasn't going to let Jissa know that. He turned his attention back to the children in front of him. "Which one of you is the better hunter?" he asked.

"I am," the boy who answered was tall and lanky, with hard green eyes, but thankfully they weren't dull or cold. His brown hair was cut to his shoulders – but for his slit pupils you wouldn't have known he was a change child.

Then came the smile that showed a glint of sharp, backward-curving fangs.

"And whom might you be?"

The boy simply replied, "By process of elimination I would have expected you to know that, King's man." Deshia smacked the back of his head roughly and ordered him to 'mind his manners' before turning to Yozak and informing him, "this young idiot is Sydren."

"Thank you, Deshia," Yozak smiled, trying not to chuckle at the annoyed young man's expression. "Sydren, would you be kind enough to track down some meat for your friend to put in the stew? Anything will work, it doesn't matter how small – even a squirrel will do."

The boy mock saluted and darted off into the underbrush. Yozak shook his head and turned back to Jissa, liberating his medical supplies from one saddle bag before turning his attention back to Deshia. "I need you to take me to see Naga, and then I want you and Syeth to split up. I want one of you to take the younger children out foraging for berries and other edible plants and roots, and the other to take the slightly older children to gather wood. Everything from sticks to small logs –My Jissa bespoke Herald Koran's Mandy and the two of them are on their way with help. Do you understand?"

Deshia nodded and led him into the dilapidated building. As they walked inside, Yozak inquired after the names of the other eight children, listening quietly as his guide prattled on. "Zerrik is the boy with the green hair; we think he was changed with some kind of lizard. Serrik is his little brother with the cinnamon colored hair and the whiskers – he's a rat. Sinistera is the multi colored one – we picked her up in Rothwellen five years ago – we have no idea what she is, but she is definitely colorful. Oh and don't piss her off – her hair catches on fire. Seleth is some kind of bird – he's about eight years old now. Gafry is five – we picked him up in Oris a few years ago. I don't know what he is – if you scare him he rolls up into a ball – and it even has armor! Sellia I think is a cat – but I wouldn't know. She sure walks quietly for a four year old though. Solan is the one with the blond hair and he's ten. If you didn't notice his pupils, you wouldn't even know he was one of us. Saori's the little boy with blue hair you picked up; he's two. We only picked him up about five months ago." The boy shook his head and then added, "He was being put on display by a traveling merchant – they were planning on selling him."

Yozak was completely disgusted – how could anyone sell a child?

~~~***~~~

Naga glanced up when Deshia came into the small corner of the room that he'd been put in. It was a small space underneath a rickety old staircase. It was also dark except for the small candle he had burning on a small ledge. The tiny area was hardly big enough for him and his mate to stretch out in, but it was a good place for a snake to live. It was warm, slightly humid, and its hard packed dirt floor gave it the same homey feeling as the numerous caves, abandoned dens, and enlarged burrows that he'd lived in since being abandoned after getting stuck in one of the first change-circles nearly 14 years ago. He'd been a little boy at the time, and a snake charmer associated with a group of traveling performers. The magic of the mage storms had permanently merged him with the king cobra that he'd been charming – and while his family had at first been delighted by the money they could bring in by putting him on display, they grew intolerant of him six months later when he refused to allow himself to be treated like a freak.

Then he met the girl who would later be his mate.

They had both picked up Deshia a few years later, and in some ways the young boy was more like a sibling than a child. Together they had traveled the known world picking up more and more abandoned change-children and managed to scratch out a life for themselves, never staying in one place for more than a week. But this was their first time in Valdemar; five months ago they were in a small village just outside of Valdemar's northern border heading south before winter set in, hoping to buy or steal enough supplies to get them as far as Waymeet without having to go through the forest with the 'killing trees'. They'd been planning to trade some of the beautiful multi colored feathers that grew under Sinistera's hair to get the things they needed. However, when Solan had reported the fact that the villagers were keeping a small blue haired child in a cage hardly big enough for him to stand up in and putting him on display with the intention of selling him to the highest bidder, Naga had ordered Servana to take the children and head south. He would meet them at Crook Back Pass with their new charge.

Servana had taken the children and stolen what they could before leaving. Their last hit had been loud and public – a diversion to cover the theft that Naga was about to pull off. He found the child right where Solan had reported him to be, shivering inside a cold, iron cage tied to the back of a wagon.

He'd seen the magic on the cage, and knew very well that he would suffer for liberating the child, but he didn't care—this little boy was the only thing that mattered.

They were able to travel for about another two months before the sickness had become too much for him. The hovel that his family was currently huddling in trying to survive was all that they could find. Despite Naga's pleading, they wouldn't leave him behind to find a warmer area. The truly heavy snows would be here within the week—he could feel it in his bones. His family would be in serious trouble if they didn't move or find some other way to insulate their little shack, especially little Saori who was a snake just like him and his wife. It was all his fault; if only he'd been strong enough to keep going despite the illness. If only he'd been able to make it past the comb and into Rethwellan; then they could have found somewhere warmer. If only he'd kept going – they wouldn't be in this mess.

His tongue flicked out of his mouth, tasting the air, but he was so congested and it hurt so badly just to breathe that he didn't notice the man alongside Deshia until he was kneeling right beside him. Naga tried to protest, but then he noticed the man's fox colored hair and slit pupils, and he suddenly relaxed, realizing that this stranger was one of their own despite the uniform he was wearing.

~~~***~~~

Yozak smiled down at the small child who brought him a dipper full of water. The boy couldn't have been much older than six, and judging from Deshia's descriptions he suspected this to be Serrik. He thanked the child kindly before turning back to the log he was splitting. It was part of an old fallen tree that lay across the back of the property. For now the smaller pieces were going to be used to create a supply of firewood to get the orphans and their two caregivers through the winter. Depending on the amount of help Koren could scrounge up, they would potentially be forced to use the old log to create weather proof walls. It wouldn't be much but they had to get at least one room and a small kitchen set up in the next week or else this ragtag family would freeze to death. It wasn't ideal, but if they could at least accomplish that, then the crown would pay to have a proper orphanage put up in the spring and the children could be properly educated.

Another herald- one of the mage gifted -was currently on his way from the nearest city with a healer in tow. Hopefully Herald mage Quinn would be able to lift the curse that Naga had recently encountered. After that it would be up to the healer to heal the resulting case of pneumonia.

He glanced up at the sound of bridle bells and the distinctive chime of silver hooves on hard packed dirt and rock. Since his own Jissa was currently wearing the abbreviated harness and chains that all Herald's carried with them into the field, and helping the children haul logs, he knew the sound heralded the arrival of Koren and the 'help' he'd managed to procure.

Setting down the small rusted ax, he went to greet the other Herald but was surprised by the fact that every man, woman, and child old enough to be of help currently stood behind the Herald and his Companion. Koren was on foot and standing at Mandy's side. The mare herself was laden with supplies; it looked like everything the village could spare in the way of tools. A boy no older than fourteen held the lead rope attached to an annoyed looking donkey hitched to a cart that was further laden with supplies.

Women looked out at the rundown ramshackle excuse for a hovel before them and tsked in disapproval. Their eyes softened at the sight of three young children returning with their arms laden with firewood – little Saori was with them struggling to keep up, his little arms overly full with small sticks and twigs.

"There is a very sick young man inside and the temperature is going to drop further tonight. Does anyone have a place these children and their caregivers can stay? A barn, or a place by the hearth at the inn? Anything to get these little ones and Naga into shelter would be much appreciated, and we need to do it quickly." Yozak pitched his voice to carry throughout the crowd.

There was a low mumble as the villagers started talking all at once. Finally an old man walked forward, abandoning his former spot on top of the cart. "These younglings – they're all change-children, aren't they Herald?" he inquired mildly. "Seems to me that be the only reason they didn't think to be askin' for 'elp afore now."

Yozak inclined his head at the man's question, and then added, "These people have been through a lot. Not many people understand the magic that changed them, and they've been run out of village after village trying to find a place they can call their own. Are we going to show them that Valdemar is like any other land? That her people are as cold and ruthless as the people who couldn't see past their differences? Or will we show them the kindness Valdemar was founded upon?"

The old man and the rest of the villagers nodded along with his words, and after a moment the old man spoke again. "Seems to me, we s'ould be neig'borly like and 'elp t'em, no matter what they be magiced wit'! My family runs the inn, the stables be well protected against a draft, and t'ere be room enough inside by the fire for this Naga. T'ese people need 'elp wouldn't be rig't nor proper for us to be turning them out 'Erald, Not w'en we 'az children of our own t'at 'ope to be 'eralds t'emselves."

Yozak smiled lightly. "Then let's get that cart unloaded. Naga's too ill to stand on his own, let alone walk. You can put everything inside the – well, what's left of the door at any rate."

They made short work of the supplies and then split everyone up into groups clearing the dead fall and tearing down several small structures (the remnants of a chicken coop) off to the side of the hovel. That took up the majority of what was left of the day, and the coming evening would be devoted to actually moving the children and their two caregivers into the shelter Oscar the old man was willing to provide.

Carefully they arranged a pile of old but serviceable bedding into the back of the cart. When that was done, Yozak turned and disappeared into the small hovel. It was a relatively short walk to the small space under the stairs where Naga made his bed, but it seemed to be endless. He could hear the sharp rasping, rattling sound the young man made as he struggled to breathe.

He wanted nothing more than to take away the poor man's pain. The fact that Naga had known he would likely die thanks to the magic on the cage holding one of his charges, and yet he had freed the child anyway spoke values about the man's character.

It was times like this that made Yozak long to have the healing gift of his people. Now he had his own gifts, but the one part of a Mazoku's magic that was taught to small children was beyond his grasp. The healing gift of this world and that of Maryoku were too dissimilar for the healers at the palace to teach him that one rudimentary skill.

He didn't know whether or not the Valdemaran healing gift could heal illnesses created by magic and curses, but Jissa told him that they could have a mage lift the curse and then have a healer handle the after effects. In Shin Makoku, a seasoned healer could have handled both problems on their own. A Mazoku's Maryoku dealt with the elements in their purest form, which was something humans couldn't even begin to understand or utilize. This was because demons were born as part of the element they used, and when they died their souls continued on as a part of that element. Just as fire could purify or destroy, so could water, earth, and air.

That was a fundamental truth they were all taught as youngsters.

His own inadequacy doomed Naga to further pain until the healer and the mage could reach him. For now all he could do was help Servana and the children, and pray to The Great One that they made it in time to save Naga. At the rate this was progressing he gave the man a week, maybe two at most, before the curse finally killed him.

He was careful as he scooped the other man up into his arms. Yozak was startled by how heavy he was; Naga was shorter and slighter than Conrart, and yet he weighed just a bit more. Blinking in mild surprise, he did his best to ignore the cold kiss of the man's dull, bluish black scales against the skin of his arms where he'd rolled up his sleeves earlier.

He noticed the distinctive U in the scales at the base of the man's neck and suppressed the need to shudder as realization dawned. Nagashin had been a young snake charmer before any of this happened. The snake he'd been working with all those years ago must have been a cobra.

It meant that Naga could probably kill him with a single bite.

Well, at least now he knew that the possibly venomous children running around outside would have been taught not to bite.

But that still didn't offer him much comfort.

~~~***~~~

A.N

Sorry this took so long I have another chapter being edited by the grammar Nazi so hopefully the next one will be faster. Read and review please.