Chapter 5.24 - The Subjugators

The white tyrants. Faceless demons. Rulers of the Flesh. Isil had many names for those that change. But the name he feared the most, the name that brought fear to his heart, was that of their slang. Changelings

Isil and his tribe knew that their time had come. His was one of several cattle races on the continent. Isil was aware of the histories that were told to him, as even cattle were given the right to gain knowledge, if only to make them better meals.

Before there were his people, the Forest Elves, there were his peoples cousins, the high elves. Under a religious decree, the High Elves had forced most of the other races underground, purging those that stood against their superiority. Even though the High Elves were physically weak, they had made a pact with the Changelings, who had acted as shock troops and did most of the fighting.

Afterwards, the High Elves betrayed the Changelings and over the course of several generations eroded their population, their histories, and their pride. As the histories tell, one of the last groups of Changelings found to be purged was mysteriously saved by a master wizard of unknown race. It was then that the high elves changed their search. Knowing they would need to create an army again for fighting this new threat, the high elves reinstated their changeling breeding program, and along with it brought back hosts of the other species to ensure they could train the changelings to their fullest potential.

This was, however, their downfall. While the Elves used prison camps as food for the changelings, the changelings acted in the shadows. They made pacts with the few surviving leaders of the newly resurrected species, and when the 6 changeling heroes had gained enough power, they turned on their creators.

In a form of genetic civil war, the changelings with a few of the penned races fought at full strength against the high elves of Endar. The changelings were of course victorious. As tribute, the other races would offer their strongest fighters in single combat to the changelings, and the changelings acted as their protectors for all of time.

Isil and his people, although genetically different from the high elves, still bore fragments of their heritage. Pointed ears, angular features, lithe frame, and a predisposition to magic were all that were needed, and to ensure the mistakes of the past were not followed, the changelings set out a decree. All races would pay a tribute of combat to the Changelings. And to ensure their powerful ritual magics were denied, All of those of elven descent will be denied the right to establish land, and must remain nomadic. In addition to their crime of their heritage, forest elves were banned from having anyone over level 20.

With combat prowess effectively hamstrung Isil's tribe included some of the oldest members at 40 winters. This was because their routes avoided combat, they did not interact with others, and they did not practice more than one magic per person.

Although this plan had worked for Isil's caravan, their luck was running out. Isil knew several of the oldest members were about to all rank up near the same time, and then the Changelings would hunt them down. So Isil's people were running. The lands outside their reservations were very dangerous, but Isil had to try. He had to give his tribe a chance to survive, if only to escape the shortened potential caused by the mistakes of their genetic past.

Isil pushed his caravan and once they made it to the mountain pass, Isil was horrified at the blunder he had made. As they set up camp, a blizzard descended. The changelings had timed their tribute in the spring to ensure that any who tried to run at the best of time to travel would be hindered by lacking their wisest and strongest members. And the plan had worked. The changelings had let them run because they knew that Isil's rebellious tribe would act as a perfect example to any of the other races that planned on standing up.

So as the early winter storm beat down on Isil, he spoke to the divines, 'please, deliver us from death. The story of our people cannot end here.

And for a moment the skies parted, and in the middle of camp, a portal appeared.

***

Serin watched chaos unfold in his town. Winter winds blew through the portal, and the people coming through were wrapped in large blankets for their protection. Coming through the gate, they were escorted to the open area of the square and set down, shivering in their blankets. Serin watched as his people dutifully helped over 200 refugees through.

Serin began to speak, using a bit of calm magic, as well as casting a large dome to endure the elements to bring the ambient temperature of the town square to that of a summer morning. "Welcome. I have raised the ambient temperature of our area up and my people are bringing you hot soup and warm blankets to help you. Do not be afraid. Whatever terror you left in your last life, it will not have followed you here."

Serin watched as Rufala, the changeling healer, went with a blanket and medical treatment bag in tow, and kneeled down. "We can switch your blanket, and I can cast healing magics to ensure that the elements do no damage."

As Rufala helped the person out of their frozen blankets and uncovered the form below, she dropped the soup, causing the bowl to fall and crash on the ground. Then she screamed. The person under the blanket also began screaming in terror.

Changelings were a rather stoic people, not showing fear against the strongest opponents. Additionally and unknown until that moment, the sound of a changeling's scream was objectively terrifying, so to make one scream, made the protectorate throughout the town to swarm to the location.

Serin watched as Bilol and his people looked afraid, and Serin could tell why. Unwrapped from this cloth was a race he had seen before. He remembered the guard he saw when he had saved Olma from the gate. The guard, with the beautiful angular features twisted into a sneer, was the same as this huddled frozen person.

It was then that this person saw Rufala, saw Bilol, and saw the armed and armored soldiers surrounding it, and they screamed as well.

This surprised Serin, and in an act of mercy, Serin put the elves to sleep.

Serin looked at Bilol and Ephraim, "Bilol, it is best that Ephraim's people take over care of the newest arrivals. We will figure out what is going on after they get a day to sort themselves. Serin looked at Jeffrey and Iris who had come to watch the event. "Jeffrey, Iris, this will be a matter of state that might take a few days to sort out. Dana will help you setup your embassy at this time."

***

"So that's how that happened." Isil finished telling his tale. Serin nodded. He sat across from Isil in a warm dry and well lit room that was constructed like the room of an inn.

Isil exhaled. He had come to terms with seeing a changeling. He had many questions that were written on his face.

Serin nodded, "so, in your story, you say that a magician saved one of the last groups of changelings. And this happened several hundred years ago?"

Isil nodded. Serin looked at Isil, "And you say that you are not of the high elf race? The ones that had persecuted the changelings?"

Isil nodded. "I am an elf of the forest. We were spared the purge by the high elves of Endar by right of kin. But we have always stuck to our dwellings in the forests and rainlands."

Serin nodded. "So you are aware there are changelings here, but not the monsters of your time. These are those that escaped through that magical portal hundreds of years in your past. What was hundreds of years ago for you, was only a few years for us. And standing before you is the magician of legend."

Isil's eyes went wide. Serin continued, "And I must apologize, but our entire conversation was being presented through illusion to the changeling and forest elf peoples. They needed to hear your history."

Isil looked afraid. Serin gave a quiet smile, "If you feel ready, I can bring in the leader of the changelings here."

Isil looked afraid, but nodded. Serin then called for Bilol. In walked Bilol. Isil sat stiff, afraid to move, and Bilol took a seat across from him, also visibly afraid. Serin then cast calming magic. "I know this will be difficult, but we need to have a dialogue between leaders. Bilol, what makes you different from the history that Isil told?"

Bilol looked alarmed but then calmed, "As citizens of this nation, we are bound by its rules. The first is that all plated beings are equal under the divine. And our people have come to understand that this slight disadvantage of available prey, adds numerous allies towards our survival. We grow more powerful through our differences. Those with a plate are equal in the eyes of the changelings."

Serin nodded and Isil looked confused, "If you don't mind the question, what is to stop the changelings from revolting?"

Serin smiled, "It is the agreement of this nation. Our nation of Haven has the unique magic of 'Open to All'. You may have seen it as simply a place for refugees, but it is so much more. Willingly coming through that gate, it makes you family. So long as coming to this nation you are not subjugated, that feeling persists. And the laws of equality presented ensure that we remain family. Even now, by coming through that gate, each of your other's prejudice is starting to be overcome by the feeling of loyalty towards each other as fellow survivors."

Bilol knew it. Isil knew it. Serin then looked at Isil, "Now, since Bilol has shared his reasons, what makes your people different than the high elves of Endar?"

Isil looked as if he was defending himself, "We are a peaceful people. Several of our tribes were wiped out for aiding the other races during the great cleansing of Endar. Our tribe survived because we turned our backs on the other races. For this the high elves left us be."

Isil exhaled, "however, the forest elves that survived were forced from their grove and banned from establishing another. We were made nomadic for several hundred years. And just as the high elves removed the histories of the changelings, so the changelings did to us, always culling our strongest and oldest."

Bilol looked angered, "I promise you this, Isil. We lived through the great cleansing. To hear that we became the same as the monsters we were accused of being, it troubles me and all my people. You will not fear us."

Isil looked relieved. "Bilol, I know that your histories were lost. There is a mandated holy text we must carry that speaks of the changeling people. Its nature is highly purist but it does talk about the secrets and powers of the changelings."

"Burn it. Burn all the copies." was Bilol's response. "We can rediscover our mysteries as we have already begun to do. We need not the poison that was written by those changelings who have fallen."

Isil was relieved.

Serin smiled, "Isil. Talk to your people. We can offer you a few options to help your race recover. The first, is if the concept of living in the same nation as changelings scares you too much, We will prepare a few autocarts and you may strike out on your own into the wilds. The second is you may stay, and we will do our best to create a home for you."

Isil asked, "May we make a grove?"

Serin furled his brow in confusion, "What is a grove?"

Isil smiled, "It is a forest of eternal summer. It is a home for the forest elves."

Serin smiled, "Yes, with a few caveats. Your grove will be a part of the nation, it will be open to others wishing to move in, and that the youth of the forest elves attend both the middle and elder sections of school so they may integrate with the various other races."

Isil's eyes grew wide. "There are other races here?"

Serin nodded. "Several. And we all live in relative harmony. Would you like to meet them?"

Isil smiled, "I think that would be wonderful."

***