Sage Elvan, Taryn, and Jal walked past many shops in the center of Nik. They entered Cappi Dal Clothiers. Jan went directly to the back of the shop. “Cappi, my friend, I need your help,” it said to the Stafriez owner.

“Sage Elvan! It’s very good to see you. Home from your travels for a bit, eh?”

“I am.” The sage motioned for Jal to step forward. “This is Jal. It needs tunics and trousers.”

Cappi pulled out a tape and measured Jal. “Your apprentice is fooling you, Sage Elvan. This is a child in the early stages of metamorphasis.”

“It’s not fooling me. I’m aware of Jal’s age.”

Cappi led them through the racks of clothing. “Here are the tunics you like so much. With the splits up the side, pockets, and the case for a communicator.”

“Yes.” Sage Elvan took hold of a sleeve and felt the fabric. “We need some with defensive capabilities.”

“Defense?” The businessman’s eyes widened with surprise. “For a child?” The sage didn’t respond. “To withstand what?”

“Impacts, projectiles, and firearms.”

“I have several in the storeroom. The style is a bit different than yours.” He retrieved a gold one and placed it on the counter. The vulnerabilities are at the seams along the sides. This style is reinforced in the yoke and chest.”

“This will do. We’d like three.”

“What color?”

The sage looked at Jal. "We’ll take this one. The burgundy that I wear for formal occasions. Let Jal choose the third.” Jal followed Cappi to the back. After it chose a green, Jal put it on at the sage’s request. The trousers weren’t really trousers, Jal thought. They flexed to fit the shape of its legs and didn’t fit over its boots as the jeans had. The sage, satisfied with the fit, paid the storekeeper, and glanced at its time piece.

“We have time to get footwear,” it said to Taryn.

Taryn led the way to Canby’s Boots. Canby bowed, and the sage bowed in greeting. “How can I help you, Sage Elvan?”

“Jal needs a pair of boots, Chivali.”

“You have a younger apprentice than usual, Sage,” Chivali responded. “It’s a pleasure to have a young Stafriez come into my shop.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Jal replied.

Chivali measured Jal’s foot. “You are a metamorph, so you’ll need a boot that adjusts as you grow.” Jal winced as Chivali squeezed its foot. “You’ll need a bit of extra support along the inside.” When Chivali stood, Jal realized suddenly that he was very short, shorter than Taryn. As Chivali selected three pairs of boots from the racks, Jal studied its face. His ears pointed out straight and came to a sharp tip, and his face was light red. His mouth was wide and looked as if he had a perpetual smile.

“These are made from a Haybuti cheetah.” Jal was going to pull them on when Chivali stopped it. “What are these?” He pulled at Jal’s feet.

“Socks.”

Chivali burst into laughter. “Socks? Socks? Stafriez do not wear socks. Socks are for humans whose feet sweat. Stafriez feet do not sweat. You have no need for socks.” Jal pulled the socks off and the boots on. “These are created from gazelle skin.” When Jal tugged at them to put them on, Chivali took them away. “You shouldn’t have to pull so hard.” After Jal had tried on boots made from antelope, ostrich feathers, and elk, Chivali scratched his beard. He picked up one of the boots that Jal had been wearing.

“Teagren mosua? Where did you get these?”

“My uncle gave them to me.”

Chivali looked at Jal puzzled. “These fit well?”

“They do. I haven’t had them very long.”

“They are worn. Your feet are changing and pushed this part outward. I have teagren mousa right over here.” He brought one to Jal and Jal slid it on. Chivali squeezed Jal’s foot and it winced. “Let’s try the next size.” This one felt looser to Jal. “That’s much better,” Chivali observed.

He watched as Jal tapped the sides. Nothing happened. Jal tapped in another spot. “What are you doing?”

“The other ones adjusted when I tapped them.”

“You had a pair of my newest boots? I’ve only made three pairs. Two of them were purchased by off-world traders. The third pair was purchased by Dr. Eiske Bonnema. How can he be your uncle?”

“It’s a long story.”

“The enchantments worked!” A pleased look came over his face. “I have one pair available.” He ran to get it. Jal slid them on, then tapped them. Sage Elvan and Taryn watched as the dark grey boots visibly tightened around Jal’s feet and legs. “This is another test pair. I created these for extra speed and dexterity. They go up to the knee so you'll have extra support when you run and jump. I’ll give them to you for a discount, if you promise to let me know regularly how they compare to this first pair.”

Jal looked over at the two adults, who both nodded. “I’ll do that,” Jal agreed. It bent to slide them off.

“Keep them on,” Sage Elvan said as it handed Chivali currency. “You can wear the others as work boots.”

“I’ll take those,” Taryn said. With the boots and clothing in one hand, she waved her wand in a circle and stepped into it. “The Mirage in Nik.”

A few minutes later, Sage Elvan and Jal entered a brick building. They wound their way inside. A door opened and Jal felt the floor quiver. “It’s afraid of us,” Jal commented.

“No, it’s a machine.”

“A machine? Technology?” Jal said curiously. The sage agreed that it could be considered technology. The door slid open and Sage Elvan went to a counter. “We have an appointment.” Only a minute later, Jal stood in a tiny room disrobed.

Dr. Liv Gale looked Jal over from head to toe. "Your skin color has begun to change. The itching is pretty constant?"

"Yes. My uncle gave me an herbal treatment that helps a lot."

"Frequent urination is no longer a problem?"

"No."

"How about the achiness throughout your body?"

"I stretch several times throughout the day."

"Do you have questions for me?"

"Yes. What is causing the itchy skin?"

"It's part of the metamorphosis that you're going through. You'll shed your skin six times over the next three years, so about every fifteen months. Your skin will become darker each time."

"Is there a way to toughen it up?"

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"Why do you ask that?" Jal showed her its palms. "You might want to rub them with a lotion made from witch hazel and kidula."

Jal knew what those were. "Thank you. Would you look at my eyes? Are they completely healed? Do I still need the lenses?"

She studied Jal’s eyes for several minutes. “You’ve had eye surgery recently,” she observed. “Tell me what the doctor did.” Jal explained that the lens had been set in the correct position and it had been given a third eyelid. “It appears that everything has healed nicely. I can see the tiny scar where the tool was slid in to set things right, and the scars up here where the stitches were made for the eyelids. It was very professionally done.” She noted the name of the doctor from Kop in Jal’s record. "I suggest that you keep wearing the outdoor ones. They'll protect you from the sun. You don't need the indoor ones anymore."

She picked up her electronic record. "Tell me, how many times were you sick as a child?”

“I wasn’t.”

“You never got sick? Didn’t have the Capesian, Medi, or Pitsu ‘flu?” Jal shook its head. “How about broken bones or hard falls?”

“No.”

“You ate some bad food or fruit?”

“I ate a frog once and vomited.”

“You ate a lot of vegetables?"

“And a lot of bokan meat.”

“Bokan. That’s a type of bison. You might try adding some poultry to your diet.”

“Right.”

“Jal is in excellent health, Sage Elvan. I suggest that it have the immunizations for Capesian, Medi, and Pitsu influenzas.”

“Can we do that another day? Today I’d like for Jal to have the required immunizations to go to Shifos.”

“Malaria and red fever.” She asked Jal a few more questions, then left the room. She returned with two needles. “Are you left-handed or right-handed?” Jal looked at Sage Elvan, not sure what to say. “Which hand do you hold a pencil with or throw a ball?”

“I use both of them.”

“I thought so. We’ll put them in your right. Please extend your fingers like this.”

Jal stretched out its hand. She pushed the needle between its fingers. “Ouch,” Jan said calmly. She picked up the other syringe and injected it between the next two fingers. “Ouch.”

“You’re all set. Stop at the front counter on your way out and set a date to get the other shots.”

“That was easy,” Sage Elvan observed as they walked out the door into the street. “When I had shots, I yelled and screamed. But I was little.”

“Did you cry during your first haircut?”

“Of course.”

“The shots are much less painful.”

As they went down the row of shops, they passed a magic shop. “Look!” Jal exclaimed. “Those are igneous rocks. I’ve never seen any, except in books on my electronic tablet.”

“Those will be made into charms.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. Pieces are broken off as they’re needed. We’ll go back there after we’re done at the tailor.”

“The tailor?”

“You need a cloak.”

“I have this heavy coat. It’s made from bokan fur.”

“You need a cloak. You need to dress to fit in where we’re going.”

“Where are we going? That’s right, you said Shifos. What’s in Shifos?”

“There’s a conflict that I’ve been called on to mediate.” Jal looked at the sage. Jal had seen Haerm like this many times. Jal was silent as they went into the door marked “Jibben Goove, Tailor,” bought a cloak, and came back out to the street. The sage glanced at Jal but didn’t say anything until they had gone into the wizard’s shop for a set of basic charms and a wand. Sage Evan looked at Jal, concerned. “Are you okay? You feel odd from the immunizations?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve become very quiet. You look worried.”

“You’re the one who's worried. I’m just going to be quiet and stay out of your way.”

“Stay out of my way?” Sage Elvan stopped walking. “Why are you afraid?”

“Haerm always got mad when he was worried. There was plenty of yelling and throwing things.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“I never gave him reason to. I knew when to keep my distance. He had plenty of other targets.”

“You’re not talking to me.” Jal readily admitted to the silence. “I’m not worried,” Sage Elvan stated.

“You are.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The creases on your forehead and the tightness in your cheeks.”

“You’re right,” the sage admitted. “I am worried. I think there’s more to the conflict in Shifos than meets the eye. We’re going there this week. I need another day to plan the meetings. It’s time for the noon meal.” It waved its wand in a circle and they stepped into it. “The Mirage, Nik.”

Standing in front of the huge building, Jal swallowed hard. There were, what seemed like, thousands of people going in and out. The revolving doors turned and stopped, turned and stopped. Jal had never seen so many people! It wanted to run. “We’re here,” Jan said into the communicator.

“I’m in the apartment across from Victor Ben Nacri. He asked me if we could meet him in the restaurant. I’ll be down momentarily.”

As they waited, Jal looked around. He saw another person that reminded him of Chivali Canby. “Sage Elvan, is Chivali Canby from Zuphreon?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“He doesn’t look like any of the people we studied in history class. Is he from Mazeza?”

“Yes. He is a Maz. Have you studied the history of Mazeza?”

“A little. If he is a Maz, and that is how they all look, why was there a war? He looks similar to the picture I saw of the Eza. I thought that the Eza tried to exterminate the Maz because they looked different. When they rebelled, the Eza tried to make the Maz slaves.”

“The Eza did refuse to be enslaved. The skin coloring is what’s different. The Eza also tend to be more forward looking and believe that the Maz are not evolving as rapidly as they are.”

"Thus, they will have less intelligence and deserve enslavement,” Jal said.

“Yes.”

“It’s got to be frustrating to have judgement passed on you based on what someone thinks the future will be.”

“Exactly.”

They saw Taryn come through the lobby and met her at the door to the restaurant. Together, they entered the establishment and looked around. They were seated at the edge of a table that had an open cooking area in front of them.

“Jan! Here you are!”

“Vic, it’s good to see you.” They touched one another’s foreheads. “Please stand,” the sage said over its shoulder. “This is Jal Jomari. Jal, this is Victor Ben Nacri.”

“Jal, any friend of Jan’s is a friend of mine.” He lowered his head to Jal’s forehead. A buzz went through Jal’s body.

“Greetings to you,” Jal said. Victor stepped back in surprise.

“A child? You’re traveling with a child, Jan?”

“I am. Jal is my ward. We’re getting ready to go to Shifos.”

They sat down and looked at the menu. “I don’t know what to do,” Jal whispered to Taryn.

“Choose a meal. Try this section.” She flipped the menu to the lunch salads. Jal looked over the offerings.

“I can’t decide.” Jal finally said. “I need help.”

“I suggest that you try a sampler,” Jan said. “That way, if you don’t like one thing, there will be plenty of the others.”

“It seems so...”

“So what?” Taryn prompted it.

“It’s a lot of currency,” Jal whispered to her. She shook her head and told it not to worry about it. “I’ll have the seafood sampler,” Jal decided. It watched intently as the chef cooked the meal and served it. When she was finished, the cook packed her cooking supplies onto a cart and went to the next table of customers.

Sage Elvan and Victor spoke at length about the situation on Shifos. Sage Elvan described its last visit to Mangul, a port city of Zibran. “There’s something odd happening with the shipments to Zaletori,” he remarked. “The Zibran inspectors keep opening food containers and damaging them in the process. They are insistent that the contents don’t match the shipping inventories. Accusations so far seem unfounded.”

“What are they expecting to find?”

“They are very vague. The war between the Haybuti and the Zibran has affected the food relief headed for Zaletori.”

“The volcanic eruptions have destroyed the acres that had been used for agriculture. I looked at the satellite feeds today. I believe that the people of the island need to relocate.” Victor brought this up several times during the ensuing conversation. “Jan, I’m going to ask the Director if you can help me after you go to Shifos to check on the shipping inspection process. I want you to join me in Zaletori. I’ll set up a meeting with the People’s Council. Let’s see if we can talk them into relocation.”

“We should find a similar place for them to be first, shouldn’t we?”

“I’ve sent a team out to check on a location on Trazene,” Victor said quietly. “I’ve not made our inspection public. It’s not an island, but I believe that the definite boundaries will ease the transition. The question is whether the area that I’m thinking of is uninhabited or not. We won’t know for a week or two.” Victor changed the subject. “You said Jal was your ward. Is it your new apprentice?”

“No. It hasn’t finished its first level of education.” Victor looked at Sage Elvan in astonishment. “I’ve been asked to serve as its temporary parent until a parent or grandparent is found.”

“Tell me more.”

“There’s not much to tell. Jal was raised by an Aphyxian couple. It came into the care of the Protectors, who contacted the Stafriez Pod in Kop.”

“Did you receive the communication from our council requesting that all Stafriez receive genetic testing and have the results forwarded for the database?” Victor asked.

“Yes. I’ve done that.”

“I’ll take care of mine this week. Any idea what prompted it?”

“You knew the Zuphreon leaders met with the Protectors and agreed to a planetary census,” Sage Elvan said. “The Stafriez leaders supported the vote and will be working in conjunction with them. Have you been assigned to work the census, Vic?”

“No. I’m monitoring the situation on Shifos. Maybe you will be.”

"I hope not. The Nekkian Council is scheduled to meet in a few months. Some of the proposals need more work.”

“You’ve been assigned as the Protectorate representative?”

Their conversation was interrupted by a waiter who came to the table, followed by a tall, slender female. “Sage Elvan, this woman has been pestering me. She insists that she speak to you. If you don’t wish to speak with her, I will have her escorted out.”

The sage rose to its feet. “What can I do for you?”

“I have come to warn you that this person that you are seated with is trouble. If you are smart, you’ll end your association with him!” She pointed at Jal.

“Oh?”

“Giel Moti, you are a troublemaker! Where have you been? You stole money from me and disappeared. Did you think I would forget?” She waved her finger at Jal.

“Who are you?” Sage Elvan demanded.

“I am Wenta Enuma. I own Dragonfire Brewing. I want my currency back!”