by Demetri Grim
“No! Did I not just say only one exception to rule of names? Damn it! Exemption is for my name!” He clamped his hands over his ears and grumbled loudly, ”Bad enough already know your name! Don't want to reminder!” Beka shook her head, confused. Turning to find even Grey covering their hands over their ears.
“Okay! Fine! No names but yours. Call me whatever you want if you’re going to make a big deal about it.” She sighed, and jumped. A startled squeak escaping her as she quickly tried to cover it up with a chuckle as the forge’s vent started to whistle.
“Gah! What does that mean?!” Goldenhorn asked, jolting back as he took a step away from the loudly bellowing device. His ears flattening to his skull. “It going to blow up?” He shouted over the noise.
“No. If I did it right, that means it’s at the temperature I set the forge to!” She shouted back to him. “That's if, I set it right. Otherwise yea. It's going to blow up.” She grinned devilishly at the big oaf and winked. “How about if we're all still here in another five minutes we get to work!”
Chapter 19: A Familiar Face
The forge did not in fact blow up. The open grate of the forge device glowed lightly in the gloom of the large room as Beka worked. She had moved the stool and bench from the center closer to the forge for this next part. Considering she had to constantly return the coil of gold wire to the fire to soften, it would waste too much time walking back and forth. Brown—or rather Goldenhorn as he was wanting to be called now—draped himself over the bench, looking bored. Beka had been carefully working the gold along the carved grooves running over the top of his first horn for almost three hours. The original simple design had grown into an elaborate and stunning pattern, improved upon by Brown himself who after watching her for a couple days started giving actually sound design advice. At first she resisted, just wanting to finish and be done with the job, not to mention she did not want to admit the cow-faced Kathani actually had an eye for her work. But he convinced her to add more to the pattern with promises of better stories and more information if she agreed. As much as she hated to admit it, she could not resist that offer and the work was turning out better than she expected.
Goldenhorn huffed a long sigh and shifted his head lower, causing his horns to dip. She was slowly laying the gold into the top of his ivory horns and the angle was preventing him from seeing what she was doing. Beka figured having to remain completely still while she worked must have been taxing the brute’s patience. He was starting to huff and sigh a lot.
“Stop fussing Gold.” She thumped the top of his head right between the eyes with her wire cutters.
“Goldenhorn. Not gold. Why have new name if you shorten anyway.” He grumbled and huffed out a blast of damp air onto her leg. Making her jump and thump him again.
“Well it does not exactly roll off the tongue easy. Besides friends give nicknames right?” She smiled down at him as his eyes widened.
“Friends? Not sure how I feel bout that.” He snorted playfully at her glare.
“Fine don’t be my friend. At least I have Grey.” She patted the top of Grey's head. They were still in the shape of the little blond girl. They were currently leaning against her back, sleeping softly. They seemed to crave physical contact. Considering its was how they form a connection and take on new shapes, it was not that surprising.
Beka was not wrong when she thought Grey acted like a child. According to one of Brown’s rants, a changeling did not age by years. Instead aging somehow by how many forms they have. As they mature they can take on more and more forms, every shape adds another degree of intelligence and understanding for the changeling. It seemed a little convoluted to Beka but monsters were weird to begin with. True monsters like Grey doubly so. A changeling apparently chooses a form to take only once they are ready. Sometimes going centuries between forms if they chose. Beka’s own stolen image was only Grey’s ninth. The monster was literally that of a nine or ten years old human in development. Their overall intelligence limited to their biology regardless of how long they had actually been alive or how well they can mimic someone's behavior.
The little changeling stirred as she ruffled their hair. Grey whined in protest at the ruffling and Beka suddenly found her hand sliding over a grey dome of oddly sticky flesh as they shifted into their base form. The now-much larger Grey squishing her onto the top of Goldenhorn's head as they squirmed.
“Grey! Stop get off!” She tried to push back but the lanky and deceptively strong changeling refused to budge.
“Pest get off.” Goldenhorn rumbled and grabbed at Grey.
They slipped away before the meaty hand closed around their neck and glared at him with their oversized black eyes.
“So, Grey. Goldenhorn here was telling me a little about your people.” Beka coughed, leaning back from Goldenhorn and shoving his head back down onto the bench. She knew full well he let her; it was a good sign that he wasn't going to provoke Grey anymore. “Since we're friends now Grey, why don't you tell me about yourself?” Beka smiled. Perhaps the changeling will slip up and offer more insight on things going on than the Kathani might. She had been around enough kids Grey’s equivalent age to know they can, and would easily slip up on things they were not supposed to say. She scrunched her nose in concentration and got back to work laying the gold onto the Kathani's horn. I’m starting to sound like my Uncle. She grumbled lightly. Her uncle was always worming information out of gullible people at the tavern. Now here she was doing the same.
“Heh. That's no going to work.” Goldenhorn chuckled, forcing her to whack him again to stop his moving.
“Shush. I don't know what you’re talking about.” Her glare only made him chuckle again and give her a toothy grin. She knew she was not that easy to read. The cow was just too clever for his own good.
“What do you want to know?” Her own voice sounded from behind her. Beka did not have to look back to guess her copy was settling in behind her once more. Leaning against her back. Beka snickered. They must look like twin sisters at work on a farm. At least if it was anywhere else on Cross, and not the murder pits of the crazy elf magister.
“Let's start with the outfit. I actually recognize it. It's the one Lord Kindredstar wore when he commissioned my uncle and me for a weapon.”
“This one has Master’s clothes to double as the master silly.” Grey laughed. It was a lot louder and giggly than she actually sounded.
“Hey I don't sound that way.” She pouted.
“Yes you do.” They both said in unison. Beka smacked the muscle bound jerk in the head.
“Gah! Why you do this!” He protested right before his long raspy tongue slimed its way up her exposed shin, causing her to squeak and dislodge Grey from where they sat as she tried to get away.
“Okay okay! Stop! Sheesh.” She wiped the slobber from her leg with her shawl before fixing her skirt with a huff. “You are so gross.” Goldenhorn just huffed in laughter as she sat back down, ignoring him. “I know the outfit is so you look like him but why do you have it?”
Grey reverted back to their base form and shrugged, coming over to lean against Goldenhorn's side. “Told you was not going to work kiddo. You listen bout as good as Grey.” He chuffed in laughter again. As the gold ringlets of the little girl appeared and pounded on his side.
“Ok how about that form then? You take it all the time. Can you tell me anything about it?” She yanked the horn she was working on back into position with an annoyed grunt from the monster it was attached to. The little girl climbing onto the beast’s back. They started jumping up and down on him as if he was an overstuffed mattress.
“This was this one's first!” The changeling sang out happily. Still jumping on Goldenhorn’s back. He shrugged and grumbled, causing the little girl Grey to drop to her knees and cling to his thick mane. “It was a very long time ago.” They continued. “This one watched an old man fish, day after day from a little cave near the ocean.” The little girl flopped over backwards atop the larger mons
ter and kicked her feet in the air. “This one had to run away, all the time when stealing snacks from the old fishing man. This one just looked thin and grey then and was very little. One day a little girl was dropped off by an older lady that looked just like the little girl. Pretty blond hair and a long blue dress, all curvy and beautiful. But little girl did not want to stay. She cried and cried, then one day she ran away. This one followed her for days and days, but the little girl was so lost it was funny, and then she fell down a long hill with rocks. Splat!” Grey clapped their hands together once for effect.
“Oh gods Grey that's horrible! Don't make a joke out of something like that!” Beka swallowed and shook her head. The casual nature of Grey's terrible story unnerved her. She had to remind herself again and again that they were monsters. That her morals did not apply to them. A fact she sometimes forgot because of how intelligent they both were. Grey shrugged and rolled over.
“This one tried to help but was no good. Little girl was dead. The old man came looking for the little girl. Molly was little girl’s name.” They pointed to themselves and smiled. “When old man near cliff, this one took first form and called out to old man. This one was clever and took dirty clothes first. Before old man took this one home. He was so happy. For many months old man was watchful but kind. This one did what this one could to be best little girl for old man. This one finally had lots of fish to eat. And this one learned, and learned, and learned. Until the woman with golden hair came back. This one did not want to go with her. Shack by the water was by the cave in hill, it was this one's home. When taken to big port city this one run away. Too many people.” Grey hopped off the monsters back and squatted by the anvil of the forge. A lost and distant look in their copy of the little girl's eyes.
“What happened then?” She prompted. “Did you make it back to the cave? Or the old man? Is that old man the one you use all the time as well?”
“This one did make it back! And yes second form was of old man. Was easy and different. Happened right after this one returned.” The golden curls of the little girl became wiry and thinned, turning white. The wrinkled old man taking shape moments later as Grey’s voice became wizened and raspy. “When this one returned the old man was waiting. He knew what this one was. What this one had done, copying the little girl. He had long found where this one had buried the little girl, but he had let this one stay. This one found out that old man was not just a fisherman, but mixer of potions. He knew of this one’s origin.” The old man Grey sighed. “This one was still very little and the old man was very kind. He Let this one stay as the little girl. When the golden-haired woman came to see if the little girl had made it back, this one knew danger was near.” Grey rubbed their hands together and started to hobble back and forth as they paced by the forge.
“I think I know where this is going. Did something happen to the old man?”
“Heh, No… old man die of old age many years later. Can we go back to more interesting things? Like smithing? Yes?” Goldenhorn interrupted.
The old man huffed and kicked at the monster as their wizened face turned red.
“Goldenhorn! It was not your story to tell!” She thumped her pliers on top of his head with a loud crack.
“It was boring! And predictable!” He frowned and huffed at the two of them.
“Then why don't you tell us your story then?” Beka put her hands on her hips. Giving him her best stink eye.
“Heh, fine. Continue boring sob story.” He deflated a little on the bench and closed his eyes.
“That's what I thought. Now Grey please continue.” She made a point of yanking his horn as she got back to work. The entire top of the horn now glittered with gold, spiraling in sharp loops and organic waves that traced along the natural contours of the Kathani’s ivory horns.
“It is true what he says. The old man’s name was William. He did die many years later. But it was when the golden-haired woman came back that this one took the old man's form.” They weakly kicked Goldenhorn’s leg again and sat on the anvil with a heavy and almost authentic sigh of old age. “The golden-haired woman was mad. Very mad. She thought that old man had poisoned her daughter’s mind. This one found out later that he was actually a very good potion maker and was to teach the little girl his craft. But he had refused. So her mother came back for her. The little girl just ran away and died too soon to find that out.” The old man wheezed what was almost a giggle.
“That's not a joke, remember Grey? I just said that.” Beka grimaced again. Perhaps she could at least temper the story some. It was turning out a lot more morbid than she had hoped from the spunky little changeling. And wasn't giving her any new information on the Menagerie or Lord Kindredstar as she had hoped. Still it was interesting, almost like listening to the stories the adventures would tell back at the smithy. It helped pass the time as she worked. She could cope with this vaguely depressing origin of the strange grey monster.
“This one is sorry.” They hung their head apologetically, causing Goldenhorn to snort even though he was not looking.
“Quiet you.” She yanked on his horn and he started chuckling at her.
“This one will finish story now you bastard!” Grey kicked him again to no effect. “This one took the form of the old man and when the golden hair woman come back that night, she stabbed this one in the heart.” Grey feigned playing dead and fell backwards over the anvil, their voice echoing up from the other side as they continued. “When the golden hair woman left the old man was finally safe. Safe and thankful for this one’s sacrifice. But this one was not dead! This one moved this one’s core to another spot in the body so the heart that was stabbed was just for show!” The corpse of the old man laughed and twitched as Grey stood up.
“Pest, no more on that. That is secret you know. Takagi will no be happy you tell her this.” Goldenhorn shot them a serious look and Grey silenced themselves by turning back into their mouthless base form. Hanging their head low and looking bashful once more despite their lack of features. “Heh... fine… harm already done. You see kid, Changelings have magic core as true monster that act like heart and brain both. As long as it not damaged, changeling not die. It give them their power and is how Pest survived my beatings.” Grey nodded their oversized head so fast in agreement that it looked as if their thin neck would snap under the weight.
“That answers one thing that has been troubling me. Thank you Grey.” Beka smiled at them and squeaked as a long thick tongue slimed its sandpapery length up her shin again. “The bloody hell was that for!”
“I tell you fact! Pest gets credit? Rude!” He snorted again and tried for another swipe of his oversized tongue.
“Stop! Okay okay! Thank you too... Jerk!” She stood up to get some distance from him as she used the other side of her shawl to dry her leg once again. She was going to have to wash it for sure after this. “So gross...” She glared at him as he panted like a dog and drooled all over the floor with a toothy smirk before he started laughing. “You are not funny. I want you to know that... Seriously.” Beka tried to give him her best deadpan expression but she cracked almost instantly and in no time she was laughing along with him. “But, really stop bloody licking me!” She thumped him again and sat back down to work. Turning to look back at Grey. “So that was your first two, what was your third?”
“This one believes you know him,” they said in a regal, slightly nasally and very haughty voice. Their form going rigid as Grey's lanky body straightened, the image of Lord Kindredstar glaring arrogantly at her.
“Why was he your third? I thought it might have been one of the Primals.” She tapped her chin with her pliers. As good as Grey’s version of the elf Lord was, she found herself not nearly as creeped out by him. He just lacked the menacing creepy air, and the odd chill. With Grey being an actual monster it should have been the other way around. Beka had to bite back a laugh as the irony of it hit her and made her snort. She covered her blushing face when the Kathani's large amber eyes caught h
ers and he chuckled, mocking her with an exaggerated snort of his own. “Like you can talk.” She glowered down at him.
“This one lived for many years with that useless old man posing as his fake granddaughter.” Grey’s voice was now the perfect version of the elf’s hateful arrogant tones. “This one remained as the little girl until the old man’s passing. Then this one took his form.” Grey shivered and grimaced: it was an ugly expression on the elf’s narrow face. Beka could only guess as to why they were making it. Her own gut response to the elf noble was bad enough. She could only guess what the instincts of an actual monster would sense from the dangerous elf. “You know this one is quite good at potions after so many decades gleaning the old man's knowledge. Not good enough however to bluff the master. The master came to see how this one was still alive. It had apparently been too long for an old man to live.” Grey shrugged. Looking a little forlorn, he pressed on. “This one did not know that fact then, and so this one was found out rather quickly and... captured by the master.” Grey slouched with a defeated look on their stolen face. “High elves have so many tricks to find hidden changelings. Like using the master’s spell to remove-”
Goldenhorn growled loudly and jerked hard against the bench, heavy hooves crushing the stones under him. Grey's dully glowing blue eyes widening as his story came to a halt. Beka had to stifle a startled scream as her fight-or-flight instinct tried to make her run and she pulled away from Goldenhorn as fast as she could. It was the first time the gentle-yet-powerful monster had ever truly sounded threatening. His large amber eyes trained on Grey. They instantly reverted to their base form and tried to cower behind her, even though their lanky body was still twice her size.
“Whoa! okay... W-what is that all about Goldenhorn... Relax.” Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to calm the beast by softly patting his head.
