Herald Yozak awoke as he always did, all at once and without even the slightest hint of the transition between dreams and the real world. He was and always had been a very light sleeper; as such he was truly startled by his visitor. Little Saori slept soundly against his chest. He couldn't help but smile at the cute sight of the small blue haired toddler curled up with his thumb in his mouth. Carefully he extracted himself from between Jissa, whose shoulder he'd been using as a pillow, and the small child. Then he pulled off the cloak he'd been using as a blanket, draped it over the boy, and carefully lifted him up out of the bed of straw before settling him down securely in the newly vacated spot, smiling slightly at the way the child cuddled closer to his Companion's furry form.

Jissa only opened one sleepy blue eye and blinked at him once before curling up more tightly around the small child, and surrendering to sleep again.

He glanced around the stable they'd spent the night in, noting the fact that Koran still slept soundly against Mandy's shoulder. He wasn't surprised; there weren't many people, even among the Heralds, who routinely woke up as early as he did. Even the birds were still asleep – and would be for at least another 2 hours.

Chuckling quietly to himself, he pulled on his boots, straightened out his whites, and left the stables. The first thing he did was find a well, draw himself a bucketful of crystal clear fresh water, and take a few mouthfuls before turning and carrying the bucket back into the stables to rinse out Jissa's bucket. Once that was done he left and got more fresh water to fill it up again. Then he went into the feed shed and procured a small bucketful of mixed oats and barley. Yozak poured half of it into the feed bucket hanging in the stall he and Jissa had claimed as their own. Then he performed the same service for Mandy, being careful not to wake the slumbering Herald at her side.

Finally he headed outside and put himself through a series of light (for him at least) sword drills. Once Yozak had completed that task, he carefully practiced things that came a bit more naturally to him – as a spy he needed to keep his body perfectly conditioned and each movement had to be muscle memory. So just like sword work, he practiced daily despite having more experience then anyone in this world could ever hope to have.

Once he was done with that, he wove his body through the intricate patterns of the Mazoku martial arts. He was about half way through with the easiest techniques when a very soft thud drew his attention. He turned and had to force himself not to smile at the sight he met.

Little Saori sat in a heap on the floor with an annoyed look plastered on his cute little face. Apparently the child had been mimicking him only to fall and land on his rump while attempting the last position Yozak had contorted himself into. That technique wasn't particularly difficult, but it did require one to balance perfectly and lightly on the ball of one foot, providing an easy spot to pivot from. He'd seen Conrart utilize it in full armor, switching into a different technique on the down swing to slice an opponent nearly in half thanks to the added momentum.

In slow motion, the vast majority of Mazoku martial arts looked like a dance, but in combat they were deadly and nearly unstoppable. Conrart was a master and an artist in their employment, but he rarely used them. He once said that they made him too deadly for his taste – Conrad disliked the fact that he was essentially a walking weapon, and one that Stoffel had happily thrown into the front lines, literally weeks after he'd graduated from the academy.

After that, Conrart decided to never reveal the fact that he was a master swordsman to anyone. He'd even gone so far as lying to Alberich about his skill level in hand to hand combat. Once or twice, he even allowed Kerowyn to mop the floor with him.

That only lasted until Vanyel started complaining about Conrad 'holding back' to Sayvil. The Companion almost immediately relayed that bit of information to Herald Kerowyn, who then proceeded to give Conrart a scathing lecture worthy of Gwendal.

It had been downright hilarious to watch!

From the roof at least, where he wouldn't be noticed.

Still smiling, Yozak shook the thoughts of his beloved best friend out of his mind and turned his attention to the child pouting a few feet away from him. He carefully picked up the small boy who looked at him with a sad, almost sulking expression, and tussled his hair before carefully showing him the technique again. He went through every one of the simple techniques with the child, mildly amused by the way Saori mimicked his every move.

Finally, the village was awake. Men and women came from every direction with piles of tools and supplies on donkey and pony drawn carts and in hand. Kneeling down beside the small child, he carefully told Saori that he needed him to stay in the village and mind the older kids. The boy was far from happy but Yozak quickly explained that they needed to get that building up, and they needed to do it quickly. Frost was already on the ground, and in little more than a week's time the first of the true snows would fall.

~~~***~~~

Herald Holly yawned as she rejoined the land of the living, sighing she stretched out in the tumble of pillows and comforters she was using as a bed. Now fully awake, she looked around for her relatively Young internee. Conrart was a member of the Mazoku, which meant that she had no idea how old he actually was, although if she had to hazard a guess she'd say he was likely around 50 years old. He couldn't be much older than that; after all, he only looked to be physically 19, and the current king of the Mazoku only looked to be around 16 when he was about 22. Therefore, her internee couldn't be much older than 50 years of age, but that was still very old – at least to her.

She sighed when she couldn't find him. It sadly wasn't an unusual occurrence since Conrad was an early riser. He actually woke up at an hour that even a Herald would consider unholy! She glanced out the Ekel window, which confirmed her suspicion that the sun was only just rising. That meant that Conrad was likely just finishing up his morning routine of sword-drills, stretches, and an odd two hours worth of a strange but eloquent dance. She asked Conrart about it once, but the boy only told her that it was a form of Martial arts that was actually quite deadly. She didn't believe him.

Now she wasn't so sure.

He meditated and went for a jog every morning before vanishing for a Candle-mark only to return bathed, brushed, pressed and perfectly manicured. She'd seen him pull all that off in five minutes, so she couldn't help but wonder just what he did for the rest of the candle-mark.

No sooner had she thought it, than she found the answer to her silent question, in the form of a smudge of white up in the high branches of the tree that housed their Ekel. At first she thought it was nothing more than a bond-bird stirring, but then she realized that the thing was too big to be a bird, even a bond-bird. The Herald carefully extended her other senses, and discovered much to her dismay that it was indeed Conrart. What the hell was he doing that high up in the mammoth tree? Holly groaned in mild annoyance before climbing out the window and carefully making her way up to meet him.

Honestly, with the boy's unholy obsession with all things high he could have been a Taylderas. Like all the others, he was just as comfortable in the boughs of a tree as he was on the ground. It was damn alarming!

~~~***~~~

Conrart noted Holly's somewhat clumsy approach, but quickly wrote her off as being less than a threat; she'd probably fall off the branch if he so much as sneezed. Keeping an eye on her in case she did fall, he continued to play. It was an old song he remembered his father singing every night when they'd been on the road; it didn't have any music to it then, and his father had informed him that it never had. The song was actually written by his great Grandmother who had no musical talent beyond a beautiful voice and a gift for words. After his father died, Conrart spent the better part of a year writing the music to go along with it. Somehow, it had made him feel closer to the human half of his family, which was something he desperately needed at the time.

It was a complicated piece, but one he was very proud of; the melody alone was enough to remind him of the good times in his life, like the days spent in the saddle following his father around the world. He continued to make it look as though he was oblivious to her presence until he finished the song, remaining still and silent for a moment as the last notes lingered in the air.

"I didn't know you could play like that," Holly said as the last note faded.

Conrart arched a cinnamon colored brow, and set about cleaning and disassembling his flute. "There is a lot you don't know about me," he replied mildly, doing his best not to laugh at her expression. If she only knew who he'd once been, she'd likely faint.

: That's the first time you've thought of who you where before you become a Herald as if it were a thing of the past and not something you were simply taking a break from. : Vanyel told him gently. : Has my Chosen perhaps finally fully accepted the fact that he is now and forever a Herald?:

Conrart couldn't help but laugh aloud at Vanyel's playful tone. The stallion definitely had a point, especially since the brunette had had a very hard time adjusting to this abrupt change in his life. But he liked to think he was as much of a Herald as any other. : I love being a Herald. It's who I am and as much a part of me as you are, peacock. But I am still a noble and a demon. Even if those two things alone no longer define me, they are still there and always will be.:

:You'll do, Chosen, you'll do. : Vanyel replied, his voice laced with humor and approval.

"I suppose I haven't made much of an effort to get to know you since this internship started. Forgive me; I plan to rectify that," Holly informed him with a smile. His conversation with Vanyel hadn't lasted for more than a few seconds; in fact, if Holly weren't a Herald he doubted she would have even noticed.

Conrart offered her a small smile and tenderly slipped the pieces of his flute into its padded leather case. "It's all right; I'm used to being judged based on what I am rather than who I am, that's what happens when you're only half Mazoku. So, what would you like to know?"

Holly blinked and then returned a smile to the young man seated before her. "Let's start with how old you are. Since you just said you're only half Mazoku, I'm going to guess you still age slower than humans but faster than other Mazoku. Based on that, I'd say you're 50 at most."

"If I was 50, I'd sill sound like I swallowed a whistle," Conrart replied with amusement. "And only being half Mazoku doesn't affect how I age," he added lightly.

Holly sighed. "Then just how old are you?" she asked after taking a moment to wrap her mind around the fact that her student was older than 50.

Conrart offered her a small smile. "I will have my 138th birthday come next Beltane," he answered simply.

"You're 137 years old?!" Holly said with an undignified yelp.

Conrart couldn't help but nearly fall out of the tree laughing. "Yes, I am."

"B-But, but, but!"

"I believe you've said that already," the boy commented with a chuckle.

Holly gaped at him like a landed fish. "But you look like you're not even 20 yet!"

Conrart continued smiling. "Actually, I'm about the human equivalent of 19. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

Holly laughed. "What exactly was that instrument you were playing?"

"It's a Mazoku-Double-Piped flute; old even by our standards and very hard to play. Legend has it that the last person to truly master it was Daikenjia, the advisor of the Great One himself. When I was little, I traveled with my human father a lot, both in Shin Makoku and across human territories. He was hired as a guard for a band of traveling performers, and one of them taught me how to play the flute. Later I begged my father to get me this flute. I thought that if I mastered it, people would forget the fact that I was only a half-breed." He shrugged one shoulder in a manner reminiscent of Yozak. "They never did forget, and it wasn't until after Yuri became our King and The Great Sage returned to Shin Makoku that I truly Mastered it with his help. I'm one of only four people ever to have mastered a Mazoku-double piped flute."

Holly merely stared in amazement.

~~~***~~~

Yozak smiled at the sight of little Saori shadowing his every move whenever he was in the village. The boy had taken to collecting twigs and small sticks while the adults and older children collected fire-wood that both the villagers and orphanage could use throughout the coming winter. It was a truly cute sight. He settled his own pile of wood down and waited quietly for the yawning toddler to leave his small bundle of twigs alongside the pile. It was definitely past the youngling's bedtime. He scooped the small child up into his arms and cuddled him quietly to his chest, sheltering him from the wind as he made his way back to the inn. Once inside, he carefully liberated two bowls of thick fish stew and a loaf of bread before making his way out into the stable.

Settling himself down into the clean straw, with his back resting against Jissa's furry warmth, he set his own bowl aside and set about feeding the small child in his arms. Once the boy had eaten his fill, Yozak then turned to satisfying his own hunger. After he was done, he settled the now sleeping child down against Jissa's flank and left him there while he went over to the village elder's house to convene with the rest of the adults who were in charge of readying the little orphanage for habitation.

He paused briefly before knocking on the old wooden door, feeling the now very familiar sensation of Jissa tapping into his senses. The sensation had taken an extremely long time to grow comfortable with, more time than the sensation of women's clothing ever had. However, like all Heralds, he'd grown accustomed to Jissa's senses brushing against his own.

He nodded to Jered who was the head of the village, as the man let him into the house, and noted Koran's slightly unfocused look as he entered the living room; there was no doubt that Mandy was viewing this little meeting through the same means as Jissa. At least they would still have the advice of their Companions, even if their respective 'lovely ladies' were currently babysitting a plethora of change-children.

~~~***~~~

Conrart smiled and clapped his hands politely as Firesong finished his rendition of 'The Dance of the Flames'. In accordance with the man's somewhat ostentatious personality, the dance itself was by far the most flamboyant rendition he'd seen to date. It had started out slow, with mostly simple footwork and small, precise arm movements. From there however, the dance had deviated from tradition. Firesong's Aya, who'd been seated quietly on his shoulder, joined in the dance by lifting her wings and showering him in false sparks. As the footwork and sinuous body movements sped up, Firesong added his own magic to the show with red, gold and orange lights that encircled his body, coiling around both him and his still sparking bond-bird until they both looked like fire given flesh.

"Who's next?" Silverfox asked as he glanced around the small clearing they were all currently gathered in under the shelter of a tall old tree.

Firesong smiled as he sank down onto the raised root-bench beside him with a boneless grace. "Con'rart plays an odd-looking flute-thing. Have him play something for all of us to hear."

Conrart hastily stepped on his initial reaction to Firesong calling his beloved instrument an "odd-looking flute thing." That instrument was one of the few things he was truly proud of. In all the long and great history of his people and his nation, there were few who could claim to have truly mastered the deceptively delicate looking instrument.

That flute was also one of the only links to his carefree childhood days that survived his 85th birthday. That day, that event, had changed everything – even his relationship with Yozak.

Ironically, the true name of the instrument had long ago been lost – even the Great Sage didn't know or at least remember its true name. Everyone simply called it a flute because that was what it most closely resembled, but that's not what it was at all. The Mazoku double piped flute transcended a normal flute in the same way that a majestic dragon transcended a lizard.

Beyond that, it was in fact poorly named because it was neither a flute nor 'double piped'. It was a 'woodwind' of sorts, employing a tiny, shaved, bamboo reed hidden just under the sliding lip-rest. The best way he could think of to describe the instrument was to say that it looked like someone had created an enlarged metal coffee straw and shoved it into one of earth's metal flutes. So in reality the instrument actually had four chambers; two that were circular and two that looked like a slightly convex triangle. The two circular chambers were designed like the inside of a conch shell spiraling outward so that the chambers inside of the instrument's crown were smaller and closer together. It meant that even though the fingering of the instrument was identical to the fingering of a normal flute, it was a hell of a lot more difficult to play. It had taken him a full 6 months to figure out how to get anything more than an eerie squeal out of his beloved instrument, even though he was already a very talented flutist.

The song he'd written after his father's death had been written as music and originally played with an ordinary flute – the double-piped flute lent that song and any other played on it an eerie undertone.

Legend had it that the flute had first come to their people after they had formed a contract with the elements as a whole, and that this was the origin of the eerie sound. It was supposedly there to remind their people of the sacred contract between elements and elementals. That eerie undertone actually sounded different to each Mazoku who heard it, because it resonated deep within their soul. Yozak had once told him that the sound reminded him of a gentle spring breeze, whereas to Conrart it conjured up images of a clear mountain spring in the wintertime.

Because of this, each flute had its own name. However it wasn't named in the same sense as Talia's harp 'My Lady' or any of the other instruments named by a bard. When he'd finally mastered it, Conrart had actually heard his flute's name in the soft sound it made as it played to his soul for the very first time.

Hōzukimaru— his flute was Hōzukimaru.

It meant "Demon light", and was also a reference to the winter cherry.

He ignored Firesong's unintended slight to the instrument he played with such reverence, and carefully set about assembling it.

Hōzukimaru was an eloquent instrument with finely etched vines worked into the silver metal. He cradled it lightly in one hand and calmly considered what to play. After a moment, he brought the flute to his lips and began. As the soft slow melody of the element of Earth began to make its way out of his beloved instrument, he knew exactly what his soul wanted to play. He had nothing to fear here, not with Vanyel at his side. His beloved Companion would defend him against anything. He could give himself over to the music entirely, something he'd never been able to do in Shin Makoku.

The song of the Elements encompassed everything that his people were in music.

It started off slow with the steady, slow changing pace of the earth, and then spiraled into the many flighty moods of the air itself, before roaring with the rage of the fire spirits and transforming into the smooth ebb and flow of water before finally dwindling down into the soft gentle caress of a placid autumn spring.

After a time that seemed to span both an eternity and a mere second, he finally pulled himself away from the magic that the music wrought in his soul and lowered Hōzukimaru. Only then did he take notice of his surroundings.

:Pretty: A small voice said into his mind, and Conrart glanced up to find Ara sitting quietly in the tree above his head, with Cay by her side.

He couldn't help but smile.