Changelings

Orientation

Flames danced in the ancient fireplace of the Life-Trade orientation lounge, their yellow-orange light flickering in benevolent abandon over the attendees. The circular chamber's stone walls held embedded sconces where candles burned, adding a brighter tint to the mellow light.

The room was long and wide, furnished with comfortable, padded chairs and couches. On the back wall, a damask-covered table held several trays of rich food and sparkling drinks. Four servants stood at the compass points. A guest had only to lift a finger, and his glass or plate would be refilled.

One had to keep the clients happy, after all. And the establishment could afford quality.

Arandur, the Elfin entrepreneur and owner of Life-Trade, looked with pleasure at the faces of his guests and tried to squelch the occasional, undeniable echo of misgiving. Not all were here with clean motives. He would need to take extra precautions with some of those traveling to the Upper Realm.

A gong sounded, and Arandur rose, his glass in his hand. My friends, I am happy to see you here this evening. I know you will enjoy your adventures in the coming week, and it is my pleasure to make sure that you do.

Around the room, the guests all smiled back at him, except for one. Arandur ignored the impatient look Malduren was giving him. Wait, what was the name he preferred? Ren, that was it. At any rate, all the guests were impatient at this point. It seemed to be the default emotion of vacationers everywhere.

He was much more disturbed by the ironic smile on Jaelen's face. Pondering her possible thoughts had already given him nightmares more than once.

Before we conclude our meal, I would like to inform you of a few... Arandur hesitated. They wouldn't like the word 'rules.' No elf did. ...guidelines that will enhance your vacation and prevent any awkward entanglements. He took a sip of his wine and studied the impact of his statement on the guests.

Most looked politely interested, but Jaelen's smile widened, showing the points of her incisors in disturbing detail. You mean rules?

Arandur frowned at her. I mean good advice to help you get the most from your vacation. He smiled at the other guests. Now, number one, it is important to remember that if you are discovered, your vacation may be terminated immediately. We reserve the right to send a team to bring you home and deliver the human you've been duplicating back to his or her life.

Discovery seems unlikely, Ren said. The dossiers you've given us are fairly comprehensive. And isn't the whole idea to live their life your way? That is your slogan, yes?

Exactly so, Arandur said. Which is why you are so strongly encouraged to read the host dossier carefully and commit as much to memory as possible. The researchers at Life-Trade make every effort to create a complete profile for you. It is your responsibility to study it in order to optimize your time in the Upper Realm and avoid having it cut short.

Kaimus, a tall, thin elf with an intelligent face and long, chestnut hair leaned forward. All right — don't out ourselves. Got it. What else? he asked.

You will want to make sure you don't leave anything behind when you return. If you purchase any souvenirs, don't forget them, because you will not be able to go back for them and Life-Trade is not able to retrieve them for you.

Not to mention the host's confusion when they come across things they never purchased sitting on their kitchen counter, Jaelen drawled.

Just so. Arandur nodded to the willowy elf, meeting her jade eyes only briefly before continuing. And of course, do your best not to harm any humans during your stay. Such things cause numerous issues for Life-Trade and might result in your not being invited back for future tours.

Jaelen twirled a strand of dark hair between her fingers and stifled a yawn. These are starting to sound a lot like rules, she said. Rules are boring.

Only a few more suggestions, dear lady, Arandur said. You must understand that your stay in the Upper Realm is limited to one week. You may not extend your stay, even in consideration of additional payment. You may, of course, avail yourselves of our services again in the future, but you cannot trade into the same life twice.

Yes, yes, no extensions, no refunds, Ren said. It's all in the brochure. Do we really need to go over it again?

Arandur gave him a patient smile. I understand your frustration, but not everyone reads the brochure in its entirety. There have been some incidents —

Just let him get on with it, Jaelen said. An elf needs her beauty sleep. She looked around the table. And it seems some of us need it more than others.

Kaimus chuckled. Don't be so hard on yourself Jaelen. You look fine, even if you aren't getting enough rest.

Jaelen scowled at him, and Arandur hurriedly broke in. "Finally, guests are asked to refrain from breaking any human laws. Retrieving you from a human prison would, of course, be attempted, but doing so represents a significant challenge. Any guest who does require such assistance will be charged a retrieval fee above what they have already paid for their journey. Further, no extrication will be attempted before the seventh day of a guest’s stay in the Upper Realm.

Elsyle, a slim-hipped, quiet elf with lavender hair and violet eyes, cleared his throat. What of human interaction? I'm told that many of the hosts have current relationships. Are we expected to maintain those?

Only as much as you choose to, Arandur replied. You may interact or not as you wish, to whatever extent you wish.

Elsyle grimaced. But what of the consequences? Is it ethical to leave the hosts to repair relationships we've damaged?

If it bothers you, just make sure you don't break anything, Ren grumbled.

Arandur stiffened. Our guests have no need to worry about ethical considerations. Our hosts are vetted and —

They're just humans, Jaelen said. Believe me, anything we do in their place is nothing compared to what they do to each other. Don't worry about it. I know I don't. Something shifted in her gaze, belying her statement.

Just out of curiosity, Elsyle said. What happens to the hosts while we live their lives?

They are treated very well here in Aelfholm.

Eyes sparkling, Jaelen’s brows rose. You allow them to run free in the kingdom? That seems dangerous. The gleeful expression on her face belied her words.

Not at all, Arandur said. Each host is given a room in the host-house here at Life-Trade. They have limited access to the out of doors, and they are adequately cared for during your stay in their lives.

According to whom? Jaelen muttered, and Ren nudged her.

They're going to throw you out if you don't shut up, he murmured, and Jaelen tossed him a hard look.

They can try, she said.

Ren rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Arandur.

That is all I have for you. Kaimus? You have been very quiet. Do you have any questions?

Kai nodded. I do have one. Are we allowed to use magic while we’re there? I’ve been told that humans don’t have the gift and wondered if using magic was against the rules.

It had better not be, Jaelen's green eyes darkened. I'll want a refund if it is.

There is no prohibition against the use of magic, Arandur said, his words tumbling over each other in his haste. Though we do suggest that you limit its use so that you may fully experience the life you've traded into. Humans do not have innate magic, though some do tap into the natural power of the Earth either by accident or design.

And get burned at the stake for it, if I remember my history correctly, Kai said.

Savages, Jaelen said.

No, I don't think they do that anymore, Elsyle replied.

Not for a century or two, Arandur assured him. Though we are working on a time-travel component for those who are interested. He glanced around the table, allowing the silence to build for a moment. Rubbing his hands together, he brought the meeting to a close. Now, if there are no more questions, please allow our associates to show you to your rooms. Your adventure starts first thing in the morning. You will find your transfer appointment and departure times listed on the agenda next to your bed. Sleep well, dear guests and happy vacationing.

The Stranger

Ren sat up in bed and rolled his shoulders, stretching the sleep-tightened muscles until they felt loose and relaxed. The stone walls were a rich golden yellow, reflecting warmth and comfort into the room. Checking the card on the bedside table once more, he verified his transfer appointment.

Nine o'clock, he grumbled. They've wasted half the day already. Could've gone last night for that matter.

He raked his fingers through his coal tinted curls and studied the clothes he'd been given. A pair of pants in a stiff blue fabric that held none of the comfort or artistry of his usual attire. A faded shirt, short-sleeved, but softer than the pants, at least. And what in Galadriel's name are these miniature pants? They don't even have legs, just holes to put your feet through. So constricting around one's nether parts.

I think you wear them under the long pants to prevent chafing. The voice came from the mirror, and Ren looked up to see the gentle smile of his sister.

Alara, good morning. You didn't have to call. I'll only be gone a week.

Alara's brow furrowed. I know, but I wanted to. Are you sure you want to do this? It feels dangerous to me — stepping into someone else's life. What do you really know about this human?

The dossier is pretty thorough, Ren said. I'll be fine.

You say that now, but —

I need to eat before my appointment Alara. Hug my niece for me, all right?

The frown deepened, but Alara didn't press. All right. Be careful Ren, please.

He smiled at her affectionately. I will, Sister. Don't worry.

Her image faded from the mirror, and he shed his tunic and leggings before donning the human clothing. Not as uncomfortable as I expected, he said to himself.

The square room held a bed on one side and a full-wall window on the other. Next to the window stood a table and chairs, elegantly set for two with bone china dishes and crystal goblets.

Ren crossed to the window and looked out on the Life-Trade park three stories below. The hotel, carved into the depths of a towering cliff face, stretched out to either side in a shallow curve. He could see long rows of windows extending in either direction indicating neighboring rooms. Some were occupied by guests looking out as he was doing. Others were empty, like blank, white eyes staring at the landscape.

Below, sheltered in the hotel’s curve, was a miniature forest. Ancient trees stood sentinel along the banks of a narrow, meandering stream. From this angle, he could not see the deer and other wildlife he had been assured lived in the green-space, but that did not mean they weren't there.

Seating himself, he directed his attention to the plate before him. Breakfast please, he said without looking at the menu lying on the table. Oatcakes and mead.

The goblet filled with golden liquid and a haze appeared on the plate, shifting, growing denser until the requested meal solidified. Ren sniffed appreciatively. Thank you.

No one replied, but he knew he'd been heard. The table acted as both a food provider and two-way communicator with the kitchen. The spell was advanced, but not complicated, though he wondered how often they had to renew it.

Sampling the mead, he smacked his lips. Most inns made their own, but he recognized the thick texture and delicate hint of orange as his favorite brew from his home village.

You've done your homework, I see, he said aloud. Can you tell me how to get to the transfer room?

The menu trembled under his hand, and he picked it up, finding that the text was rapidly rearranging itself into a map of the hotel with his destination clearly marked on the ground floor.

Excellent. Thank you again.

Ren enjoyed the meal and checked the time. Eight-fifteen. A walk in the park would have been nice, but he found himself too anxious to enjoy it. Might as well head to the transfer room. Maybe they could take him early. 

Following the directions on the menu-turned-map, he arrived at the transfer room a full thirty minutes early. The reception area was large and round with several oval doors on the far side. A teak reception desk grew up from the floor. On it lay four files, each with a neatly printed name gracing the front.

A willowy naiad greeted him at the door, her leaf-green eyes gleaming faintly. The technicians arrived early as well, and they are already setting up, she said. If you'd like, we should be able to take you back in just a moment.

He hesitated, momentarily uncertain.

She tilted her head to one side. Or, if you prefer, you may have a drink in the lounge. The cannabis tea is especially delicious this morning.

No thanks. I'm ready when you are.

She smiled and whipped out a clipboard. Excellent. Just a few questions. First, is there anything about your general health that we should know? Heart conditions, recently cursed or put under a spell?

No, nothing.

Check, check and check. Next of kin?

That would be my sister, Alara Faloron.

Very good. And one last thing — In one sentence or less, what is your goal for this journey?

Ren stared at her, eyebrows raised. My goal?

Yes. What do you want from this trip? In a sentence or less.

Ren thought about it. Adventure, I suppose. A hint of romance would be nice as well.

That is a bit more than a sentence, but no worries. I'll condense it down. She made a note on the clipboard and then put it aside. Now, if you'll take a seat, your transfer attendant will be with you in a moment.

Following her gesture, Ren sat on one of the wall-hugging couches that lined either side of the entry portal.

True to her word, it was less than five minutes later when the far left door disappeared into the wall revealing a green-gowned naiad. She checked the clipboard in his hand and called his name.

He stood. I'm here, he said, and she smiled at him.

Welcome. If you'll follow me? She stepped back, stopping at the archway behind her to wait for him. The open door beckoned, and he followed.

The room she led him into was paneled in smooth, white quartz and sparsely furnished. It held a circular table on the right and a waist-high platform in the middle, both draped in spring-green silk. The table supported a flask of blue liquid, a bowl, and a small, tapered brush. Above the platform hovered a silver disk, flat and intricately carved with arcane symbols in a repeated pattern. Some he recognized, but several were unfamiliar.

My name is Arcadia, the naiad said. I will be guiding your transfer this morning. Please lie down on the table and relax. The procedure is swift and will cause no discomfort.

Ren approached the table and brushed his hand across the green silk. Should I take off my clothes?

Arcadia's lips quirked. Disrobing will not be necessary, though I am sure I would find it pleasant, she said, and Ren felt heat stain his cheeks.

He lay back on the table and tried to relax. Arcadia emptied the flask into the bowl. Balancing it in her left hand, she lifted the brush in her right.

Are you ready? she asked.

He took a deep breath. I am ready.

Do you consent to the transformation?

I do.

Closing her eyes, Arcadia chanted the spell.

"Hide his true face, but let his heart stay free.

Hide his true form, but let his mind see.

Hide his true self, but let his soul believe.

As I will so mote it be."

With each phrase, she dipped the brush in the blue liquid and swirled it over him in what felt like an intricate pattern. On the first recitation, the brush painted over his face in swirls and eddies. The second recitation covered his torso, including his arms and groin. A third completed the pattern across his legs and feet.

Everywhere the blue liquid touched he felt the skin beneath quiver and contract. It was painless, but extremely odd as if his body was melting and reforming at the same time.

A fifth and sixth recitation droned above him, but Ren was barely aware of the sound. His breathing was shallow but even, and it was hard not to twitch or start every time Arcadia touched him.

Finally, the spell was complete. Breathe, Ren. Slow your inhalation, yes, that's it. Now exhale, slow, steady. We are almost done.

Arcadia laid her hand against the silver disk above him. Closing her eyes again, she chanted,

"Protect his heart, his mind, his soul,

Preserve him now, so that his heart grows not cold,

In this journey may he contented be,

Guide him as he forward sees,

As I will so mote it be."

She laid her hand on his chest, over his heart, and he felt the warmth spread outward from her palm. The silver disk overhead brightened until he had to close his eyes against the fierce light. Then it faded.

The spell is complete. Would you like to look in a mirror? Arcadia's soft voice tugged his eyelids open, and he sat up.

Yes, I would.

She brought him a mirror. He looked into it and could not contain a gasp of surprise. In place of his tight curls was a head of thick, wavy hair, dark, but not his normal black hue. His olive skin was smooth and youthful and... He stood up. It felt as if he was shorter than normal.

The host is somewhat less tall than you are, Arcadia said. But otherwise your build is similar, so you shouldn't have too much trouble adjusting. We try to match you physically where ever possible. Are you pleased?

Ren studied his unfamiliar features in the mirror, stroking a hand across the neatly trimmed beard along his jaw. It wasn't a bad face, though not as handsome as his own. I am pleased, he said after a few moments. "This will last a